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chloe-skywalker · 11 months

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Awkward Situation - Paul Lahote

Paul x reader!Fem!Swan

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,541

Requested: Twilight imagine the part in New Moon where Bella slaps Paul and her little sister is their w/her Paul imprints on the reader and jacob isn’t happy about it and stuff like that. - @cokecola4211

Authors Note: I enjoyed writing this I tried to make it different from what I’ve read before. Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took awhile to post my queue has been FULL lol

Masterlist

Twilight Masterlist

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“Bella, maybe Jake just wants to be alone- or maybe some guy time.” Y/n suggested it to her slightly older sister. Bella and Y/n were hardly even a year apart in age but that didn’t stop Y/n from occasionally getting treated like a baby compared to Bella.

Y/n knew Jake and Bella had been spending a lot of time together recently and it seemed to be good for her sister after the Cullens left. But Jake had become sick or at least that's what he and Billy had been telling Bella. Y/n wanted to just leave it, he’d come back on his own either way. But her sister, no Bella , needed answers now and she wasn't going to wait to get them on Jacobs time.

Bella shook her head with a tight expression on her face. “No, Y/n. Something's up. Somethings wrong I can feel it.”

“Bella, we’ve both known Jake practically our whole lives maybe he’s just-” Y/n shook her head lifting her hand in q wave motion before dropping it down to her lap. “I don’t know, going through puberty?”

“His dad keeps saying he has mono but it’s been almost 2 weeks and he won’t even answer texts. Let alone calls.” Bella explained further as she pulled into the Black’s driveway.

“Maybe he’s still sick.” Y/n tried one last time as Bella put the car in park.

“Well, we're going to find out.” Bella stated before she got out of the car.

Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car to chase her sister muttering to herself. “This isn’t gonna go well.”

Bella knocked on the door and shortly after Billy opened the door. Bella had told the man in the wheelchair that she needed to see Jake, but all she got was that he wasn’t there. Next thing Y/n knew her sister had welcomed herself into the home practically going right over Billy.

“Bella.” Billy called after her but it was too late and Bella wasn’t listening anyways.

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Y/n said apologizing for her sister's actions.

Billy let out a sigh and sent a tired smile to the younger Swan. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n.”

It wasn’t even a few minutes later that Bella stormed out of the house and Y/n followed yelling after her. “Bella!”

“Hey!” Bella shouted and shoved one of the shirtless males Y/n somewhat recognized. “What did you do to him?!”

That's all Y/n could really hear from so far back. So she shouted out to her sister again, hoping to defuse the situation if she couldn’t just get her to leave. “Bella!”

“Y/n wha-” Jake spoke out suddenly standing beside the Y/h/c-ed girl.

“She dragged me here with her.” That's all Y/n had to say for Jake to understand what was happening. Charlie got Y/n in the devoirce so Y/n and Jake grew up together their whole lives as siblings in Forks. They could understand what the other was saying with just a look.

Jake nodded before looking back at the scene and then pointed “And that?”

“She slapped that Paul guy.” Y/n told him and that changed his demeanor.

“Crap. Y/n, stay back.” Jake said as he noticed Paul shaking.

Y/n wondered why but then she made eye contact with the Paul guy her sister was taking her anger out on. It was as if time showed for a minute. All the members of the pack put it together, and that's when Jacob flipped and inevitably so did Paul.

Seeing them turn into giant wolves Y/n ran to her sister. “Bella, you okay?” Her attention was drawn back to the wolves fighting not far from everyone. “Woah. Now that's cool.”

“Really, Y/n?” Bella asked, turning her head to face her sister in disbelief at how her sister wasn’t scared.

“What?” Y/n shrugged. In her opinion that was cool. Way cooler than Vampire super speed, the eyes, and sparkling under the sunlight someone dumped a 1,000 pounds of glitter on you. The Paul guy and Jake turned into Wolves! And not just wolves, Giant wolves. That's impressive.

“What just happened?” Bella asked Sam Uley she believed his name was. All the while Y/n was confused as to the looks she was getting from the others, a few she had grown up with just like Jake.

“Paul imprinted.” Sam stated looking at Bella. Then Jacob came out of the woods still looking pissed off.

“On Y/n.” Jake grumbled, clearly pissed off at the new found fact.

“Take her back to Emily’s. Bella too.” Sam told Jacob which resulted in a very loud scoff from the younger male. “That's an order Jacob. Embry go with them.”

“Hey, Em.” Y/n nodded to Embry. They have been friends for years. It brought comfort to Y/n, knowing someone else. Someone that wasn’t pissed that would be in the car with her, her sister, and Jake.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” Embry smiled. He had missed seeing her around since he phased.

“Why is Jake so pissed?” Y/n asked Embry hoping he could fill her in on what's going on exactly.

Embry sighed before explaining. “Him and Paul don’t get along, and he’s protective of you. As he should be, you're like brother and sister.”

“Why would he be protective over me when it comes to Paul? I’ve never met Paul before.” Y/n squinted with a furrowed expression as she questioned Embry confused.

“Paul should be the one to explain it to you. It’s not my place, or anyone else's in the pack.” Embry felt bad for Y/n. She had no idea what was going on and it very much involved her. But like he said it wasn’t his place to explain any of this to her.

Y/n nodded in understanding, kind of. But maybe he could explain something else to her. “Can you explain the pack part to me then?”

Embry nodded with a smile stretching across his lips. “Yes, I can do that.”

It wasn’t a long drive but long enough for Embry to explain about the pack to Y/n.

“Who’s place is this again?” Y/n heard Bella ask and she listened for Jake’s answer.

“Emily and Sam’s.” Jake answered as he got out of the truck.

Jake and Embry helped Y/n off of the truck bed. With a quiet thank you from Y/n they all headed inside. The only ones that weren’t there was Sam and Paul. But it didn’t take long for them to join in on the group.

“Can I talk to you? Outside. Alone.” Paul asked nervously looking softly at Y/n, to let her know she could reject his request if she wanted to. Y/n nodded ‘yes’ getting up to follow him.

“Over my dead body.” Jake growled, glaring with his eyes set on burning holes into Paul.

“Jake.” Sam said his name firmly. Making Jake stand down. For now.

“Come on.” Paul nodded his head towards outside Y/n nodded as well and followed him outside the small nice home.

They walked into the woods for awhile, Y/n assumed long enough to be far away enough so the rest of the pack couldn’t hear their conversation. “So, I assume that they explained the whole pack thing to you?”

“Embry did, yeah. But not the imprint part?” Y/n spoke with a unsure tone, hoping she got the word right. Paul nodded with a twitch of his lips. “Not the imprint part. What is that by the way?”

“Guess I should explain that part then.” Paul smiled, hearing her just say the word of what she is to him. That made him feel warm on the inside, which was a new feeling for him. He did like it though.

“Embry said it was only your place to tell me what it is.” Y/n looked to the still shirtless male with curiosity. What did it mean? What did it have to do with her? And why did Paul have to be the one to explain it?

“I have a spot I’d like to take you, and I’ll explain on the way.” Paul suggested there was a place he wanted to show her that only he knew about. Great view that he never that he never showed anyone.

“Ok” Y/n knew she was being way trusting with this stranger. But he felt trustworthy. She didn’t know why but he does.

Paul stopped them for a second in their tracks. He really needed to know something and it was bothering him that he didn’t. “I do have a question before we get too far that I should know that I do not.”

Y/n let out an amused breath before asking. “And what's that?”

“Your name.” Paul smirked

Y/n nodded with a smile. “Y/n. Y/n Swan.”

“Well, Y/n Swan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Paul’s smirk fell into a smile. He always teased the others who already had their imprints about how whipped they were, but now he was starting to understand.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97

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gay-dorito-dust · 20 days

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hey hey, was wondering if you could do a headcannon for jason and dick when their s/o is sick cause im sick as hell rn and need some comfort <3

I hope you get better anon and I also hope that this gives you something to chuckle at in the meantime.

Jason:

He’s like a mother hen when your sick and it wouldn’t been funny…had you not been sick and forcibly bed bound by him.

‘Jason.’ You groaned. ‘I’m dying.’

Jason looks at you blankly. ‘Hi dying I’m Jason, now take your god damn medicine.’

He takes your recovery more seriously and makes sure that you take your medicine on time when they were needed. And if you were to make things difficult for yourself, he will straddle you if needs be just for you to take medicine that you were upset wasn’t grape flavoured…

Will tuck the blankets right under your chin if you’re feeling cold and if you were still feeling cold, he’ll offer you one of his warmer hoodies to wear in hopes that they’d stop.

He honestly can’t either you sometimes but has to remember that he loves you and that he’d stick by you no matter what, even if you do act like an outraged child when sick.

God sake do not ask him to get you ice cream when you’re sick, he will forbade you from eating that crap. You’re meant to be getting better, not worse.

He even makes you a nice warm soup amongst other foods to help you during your recovery process also.

Jason may seem strict in his methods in taking care of you but he means well and will apologise if he thinks he’s been a bit too much of a dick by sitting bedside and holding your hand, kissing it every so often.

‘I’m sorry if it seems like I’m being harsh chipmunk, I’m only trying to help.’ He’d say.

‘If you’re being sorry for being a dick, then it’s only fair that I say sorry for acting so childish when you’re only trying to help. And I really appreciate you for everything you’ve done for me.’ You’d reply as you both let out a chuckle before you allowed Jason to take care of you without any complaints to be made.

You get better by the end of the week and Jason spoils you by letting you have all the ice cream you could dream of, but please for his sake don’t eat it too fast and get brain freeze.

Dick:

Will let you eat ice cream because how can he say no to your sad, sick face.

Even when sick Dick spoils the hell out of you.

Does not make the situation any better in all honesty.

He’ll probably take more offence that you were sick than yourself as he takes your temperature and tutting.

‘38°?’ Dick says as he looks down at the thermometer and muttering under his breath, ‘Not good.’

You only look at him blankly before sniffling as you cling to your plush frog, unamused. ‘I hate you.’

He’d might even get Hayley to help ‘heal’ you by just letter her be her cutest self and not currently crushing your legs, seeing as how she’s not a little blue pup anymore. she’s yours and Dick’s baby however and you didn’t care because seeing her try to nurse you back to health with her licking never failed to put a smile on your face.

‘Thank you sweetheart Im beginning to feel much better.’ You say as Hayley continued aggressively licking your arms, hands and face.

If you were to tell dick you were cold/still cold, his immediate response was the cuddle you but when you stop him to remind him that your sick, he only shrugs and probably boasts that he’s got great immunity before cuddling you. (Lies utter lies)

Let’s be honest he probably ends up getting sick after you start to recover and demands for you to repay him for taking care of you.

dick is okay at making food but might mutter ‘this isn’t the way it looked when Alfred made it’ under his breath while making you some simple soup before consulting Hayley, who only whimpers and shies away from it.

‘Take out it is then.’ He’d say and tries to take credit for it once it comes, but you see through the bullshit but we’re too sick to say anything about it.

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ichangedmycornyahhname · 1 year

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Miguel O’Hara x spider-person!reader

Summary: Reader returns to the web of life after a run in with another spider person. Miguel of course isn’t too happy to hear about them interfering with other dimensions.

She gulped, hands fiddling with one another as she walked through the twisting cavern where all of the other spider people resided. She knew she had screwed up, but she wasn’t about to let someone punch her and get away with it. Even if it may or may not have screwed up a timeline or two. Typically she’d find a way to avoid such a thing, or at least fix it. But this time, he had found out before she could do anything.

It’s not as though she didn’t like Miguel. In fact, the two had flirted once or twice. But it would seem their little fling was merely that. A fling. Which is why she was expecting a harsh lecture from the man.

She entered the lab he stayed in, the bright red, blue, and yellow lights beginning to overstimulate her eyes. Yet the large dark figure standing amongst it all is what kept her attention. “How many times do I have tell you?—“ He turned around, the lenses of his mask narrowing as he glared down at her. “You don’t go off without back up. Now you’ve gone and messed everything up Y/N.” He wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. That was why his words irritated her so. Her brows knitted, her twisting into a frown as she spoke up.

“You go out without backup all of the time Miguel. So how is this any different.” Her snarky comment seemed to do something to the Spider-Man, because he now found himself curling his hands open and closed as he inches closer to her. “Is that your excuse Y/N?” His curt response didn’t come as any shock to her, and all she could seem to do was shake her head and cross her arms. “That’s what I thought.”

That little comment only added more fuel to the fire. Her eyes narrowed beneath her mask, her arms unfolding as she turned around and began to walk away. She wouldn’t listen to his idiotic comments. Not today. Instead she attempted to excuse herself before she said anything she would regret. Although it would seem to be too late for that. In an instant she found her body being pushed against a cluttered desk, her cheek smushed against the cool metal. Her wrists were pinned beside her head, large firm hands grasping each. “Miggy— what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting sick of that attitude Y/N. Always rolling your eyes and making stupid jokes.” She jolted, the soft graze of a needle drawing her attention. Except, it wasn’t a needle. It was the small talons on his finger tips gently pricking at her suit. The odd feeling brought an even odder feeling within her stomach. And soon she found herself trying to look back at Miguel who was currently teasing at her shoulder blades with his fangs. They were sharp and prickled her back in just the right way. “Miggy..” She sputtered as her back arched, hips curving up in an attempt to get even the tiniest bit of friction. “Sit still.” Was all she received.

His hands traveled down her body, slowly trailing down her back, following the slight curve of her spine until finally his hands remained firm on her ass. His thumbs grazed over her bottom, squeezing and fondling as his kisses along her back trailed down. “Oh crap—“ Cool air slipped into her suit as the crotch area was torn through the middle and something warm intruded. Miguel’s finger rubbed circles around her sensitive area, the soft fabric of her panties drawing a chuckle from him. “So quick with comebacks, and now you’re wiggling your hips for me like a slut. How cute.” The sarcasm in his voice almost made her tell him to shut up, but his tongue interrupted before she could get another word out. The warmth of his tongue felt unfamiliar, as did the resounding slap that echoed through the place. Her ass stung, a whine leaving her as his thumb rubbed circles around the stricken area. “You’ll be fine.” He grumbled before he began to lap at her cunt. His tongue worked at her clit, licking and slurping lazily. And while he wasn’t even trying, she found herself humming softly at his touch. He continued to lap at her while using his hands to keep her in place. “Damnit wait-“

For once Miguel actually listened. His tongue no longer pressed pleasantly against her body, and he instead stood from his knees. “I didn’t mean literally- I just-“

Smack

A yelp of surprise bounced off the walls, her head lifting as Miguel’s hand remained stuck to her behind. A small smile was on his lips, the lenses of his mask narrowing ever so slightly. She knew that look. Miguel lifted one of her legs, hoisting it onto the table so that one leg was up and the other supported her. The bottom half of his suit was pushed down to his upper thighs, his happy trail peeking beneath the upper half of his suit. His meaty thighs flexed as he moved himself closer, and that’s when she felt the soft tip of his cock. It rutted against the side of her thigh, precum sticking to her skin as his hands found the small of her back. “Keep your legs spread like that. It might be a tight fit.”

“Miggy please! I can’t-“ Papers that had previously been on the metal desk were low strewn about, littering the floor. Her cheek was pressed against the desk, Miguel’s hand tangling in her hair as his heavy thrusts drew a moan from her each time. She could hear his hot breaths, and feel the way his abs flexed against her back as he leaned against her. Miguel’s fangs pricked at the top of her ear, his harsh pants making her clit throb. His hand that wasn’t occupied with her hair came down to squeeze at her curves, just as her pretty cunt squeezed perfectly at his cock. She gushed around him, squelches filling the room as he continued to pound into her.

Miguel was growing rougher, needier. He slipped his cock out and lifted her from the desk. Her feet met the floor, shaky and uneasy. “Spread your legs a little more. I won’t fit if you don’t.” He demanded as he kicked her legs apart a bit more. His hands returned to her body, one finding her neck while the other rested on her lower abdomen. “God, I was hoping you’d act like a bitch so I could’ve fucked that attitude out of you..but seeing how you melt for me..” His cock slipped back in, his hand trailing down from her stomach to her clit. He gave it the occasional rub, synchronizing it with every thrust. The act only drew more moans from her, her head lulling back onto his chest. “If you keep groaning like that I might cum mi amor..” His words, while a warning, only lured her in. She began to roll her hips as best she could, the friction causing Miguel’s breath to hitch. “Fuck you’re really are my slut huh? Cmere.”

His hips fucked into hers, the resounding slaps of skin being drowned out by their moans and groans. His cock throbbed inside of her as her orgasm caused her to tighten up. “Oh crap miggy…” She cursed under her breath. “Yeah I know baby..” He responded as his lips found hers, a slow sensual kiss ensuing. His finger swirled at her clit as he slipped his cock out, now fucking her thighs instead. The combined stimulation had her hunching over, her legs shaking as her orgasm crashed over her. “Y/N you’re spilling all over..fuck me.” Miguel groaned out, his head falling back as he bit back a moan. With his jaw clenched tight and sweat sheening his forehead, he came. Spurts of white decorated the messy desk, along with Y/Ns spider suit.

“Well fuck..if I would’ve known that was all it took to get you to fuck me then damn..” She chuckled breathily, her hands grasping at the desk as she attempted to steady herself.

“Shush, don’t ruin the moment..” Miguel placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, a groan leaving him as he wrapped his arms around her torso. “You’re still in trouble.”

#smut #spiderman #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara #x reader #miguel o’hara x reader

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hughes86-43 · 26 days

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“I’d kiss you if I didn’t just throw up” with Jack in which the reader is sick and Jack takes care of her. 😍

okkkk anon, love this idea (sucker for taking care of reader)

“I’d kiss you if I didn’t just throw up”

warnings - sickness

It was sometime around 4 am, but honestly, you weren’t really sure. You’d been up for around an hour with your stomach hurting. However, you turned to lay on your side, thinking it would help but it didn’t, and now you’re running to the bathroom.

You open up the lid to the toilet and begin throwing up all that you had in you. Within seconds, you feel someone come into the bathroom and kneel down beside you to hold your hair up. You spent probably five minutes in that position, with Jack rubbing circles on your back and whispering sweet nothings. You could feel your body slowly becoming weaker now there was nothing left in you.

You take a second to recover then reach to flush the toilet and close the lid. You groan out, “I think I’m done.”

“I’ll get you a washcloth after I put your hair into a ponytail,” Jack says as he reaches over to grab one of your hair ties on the counter. “Here, baby, lean over here some.” He gently guides your hips closer to him, trying not to move you to fast incase your stomach is still upset. “Stay there and I’ll grab you a washcloth.”

You groan out another mumbled response and lean back against the wall. “I feel like crap, my stomach has been killing me for an hour,” you say to Jack who is wetting a washcloth under the sink.

He rings it out and walks over to place it on your forehead. “Here this might help a bit, you’re burning up.” He sits down beside you against the shower and rubs circles on your thigh.

You relish in the comforting touch he gives you and how much he cares for you. You slowly lean your head onto his shoulder and whisper to him, “I’d kiss you if I didn’t just throw up.”

He lets out a smooth laugh, and says, “It’s okay, love. There’s plenty of other times for kisses. As soon as you brush your teeth, you’ll get a kiss.” You laugh at his response, and you can feel your eyelids about to close.

Jack must notice because he starts to get up. “Baby, if you’re feeling okay, let’s head back to bed.” You just nod your head as he picks you up to take you back to bed.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics

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loveinhawkins · 10 months

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When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.

It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.

And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.

A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.

He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.

But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.

He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.

He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.

Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.

Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.

But the chatter isn’t helping.

He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.

He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.

His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.

Something’s cracking deep inside him.

He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.

Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.

He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.

He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.

Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.

“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.

He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.

Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.

“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.

Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.

Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.

“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”

“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”

But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.

The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.

Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.

“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”

It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.

“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”

He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.

Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.

Steve doesn’t mention it.

“I can get you some food,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”

He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.

Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”

Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”

Steve doesn’t answer.

Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.

No. That’s not…

He wants… he wants…

“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”

He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—

The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.

He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.

“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.

Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.

“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.

“Thanks,” he manages.

“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”

Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.

And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.

Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.

Steve crouches by the side of the boat.

“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.

“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Eddie, it’s—”

Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”

He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.

Just a hair’s breadth away from…

It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.

“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.

His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.

Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.

Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…

The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.

Eddie can’t breathe.

“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”

A snap.

Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.

Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”

Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.

Something warm.

It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…

He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.

No.

He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.

“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”

“I know,” Steve says.

His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.

And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.

A hand-warmer.

He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.

Eddie breathes in again. Out.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs.

Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.

“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.

He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.

“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”

Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…

“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.

Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.

Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.

Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.

“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”

“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”

Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”

It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.

Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.

He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…

It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.

Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…

It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.

And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.

Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.

He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”

“We know,” came an already distant chorus.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“And if anyone hears about this—”

“We’re dead!”

A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.

And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.

Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.

It was…

Eddie wakes up warm.

The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…

He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…

It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.

He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.

But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.

His hands are warm.

And that’s something.

#this is my first ‘the boathouse’ fic! ❤️#pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and the party

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

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Hello! I love your writing, especially the cult of the lamb stuff lately (I’m absolutely obsessed with the game) and was wondering if you could do something for Lamb with a follower! Reader that’s cynical but devoted to the cult because the lamb saved them, and how their relationship with the reader would evolve into something romantic?

Awh thank you!! This game is still an ever-present obsession ghshghs

.........

"Another gift? What's the meaning of this, Leader? Is there a reason for-?"

"Calm yourself, [y/n]. I only wanted to show my most devoted follower some appreciation."

"........."

"You can open it." Awkwardly shuffling their hooves, Lamb stood there as they watched you slowly unwrap the gift they had given you.

You wouldn't say it was "generous", considering how such an exchange is usually preceded by a favor ranging from assistance with a ritual to being forcibly converted into a demon.

It's not how most of your fellow followers would think, as they'd praise their leader for giving them presents and swear undying loyalty to them.

You're a little bit different.

After seeing that Lamb's gift was a golden plushie made in their likeness, you just frowned slightly. "It's...cute." Then you stuffed it into the pocket of your robe. "But don't think you can just woo me over with trinkets like these. If you're trying to turn me soft like the rest of your-"

"There is no ulterior motive behind my nice gesture, I can assure you. And this cult isn't making anyone "soft"." They scowled back, nearly baring their sharp teeth, but managing to hold back.

"...sure. Now may I be dismissed?"

"Yes. You may go back to whatever you're doing."

Huffing, you left for your sheltered home, leaving Lamb to reflect on why your attitude was so....foul today. But then again, they remembered a very important trait of yours that a few followers shared with you:

Cynicism.

Right from the start, your faith in this cult was low. And your loyalties weren't so easily boosted by gifts, confessions, decorations, and sermons...and yet despite your pessimistic ways of thinking, you've yet to actually dissent.

Dissenters usually began with the most cynical of followers, but you never acted like you hated Lamb themselves nor the way they run things here.

In fact, it's true you're the most devoted. You've gone to every sermon, assisted with rituals when needed, and even guided the young on the ways of this cult and aided the elderly.

You were everything Lamb wanted...

The only issue was your attitude towards their kindness.

But after a little bit of mindreading, they were aware that you've been in a different cult long before this one.

Your former leader had also done nice things for you, providing the basic necessities you've craved....all to make you gullible and willing to follow their every word.

Then they betrayed you to the Bishops of the Old Faith without a warning. You've done no wrong and never spoke out against anything they've done.

You never mattered to them. You were just a means to an end. A tool to help strengthen their cult and appease those "gods".

So even after Lamb saved you from the sacrificial altar, that bitterness and fear lingered. You were hesitant to let your guard down....especially when you became showered in gifts as thanks for your devotion.

In the back of your mind, you anticipated when they'd betray you when you least expected it--or perhaps they'd listen to the ludicrous idea of sacrificing or jailing you as some sick "prank" by another follower just to entertain them.

Surely, you were all just tools and entertainment to this sheep, right?

Yet there was a big part of you that didn't want to believe that..

You wanted to believe they were genuine in their gestures.

..........

"The Lamb has abandoned you all!! They are no hero!! They will fall to Bishop Shamura!!!"

"...really? It's too early for this crap.."

After going to bed feeling somewhat content, you woke up feeling groggy and annoyed as you heard some dissenter shouting nonsense outside. You drew back your shelter's curtain to see Hauras stationing himself near the shrine, holding a megaphone made of twigs.

Normally, the elders would be doing their morning prayers at the center, but with the scorpion being an absolute nuisance and a danger...they had no choice but to pray elsewhere.

It's no surprise that he was gonna be sour over his defeat and subsequent indoctrination for a long time, as he was the last of Shamura's keepers.

Speaking of whom, Lamb was still on their long crusade to finally kill the last standing bishop for good.

Even so, that pest thought demoralizing the cult's faith in them would be effective. But you weren't going to listen to this all damn morning.

And besides, your leader has tasked you with collecting lumbar as some new trees have recently sprouted. You've chopped them all down.....except for the one Hauras was standing right beside.

Lucky you.

Rolling your eyes, you just went ahead to make yourself breakfast, eating as you watched the other followers closely. A few of the overzealous ones shrugged off his words and continued on with their day, although some of the newer members looked confused and even anxious, thinking he was right about Lamb.

At that point, he began drawing a small crowd, but as you finally approached with an axe, they dispersed.

Hauras sneered, eyes literally seething red. "What do you want?"

"I wish you would take your little tirade elsewhere so our elders to pray here. Plus I need to chop down the-."

"You're [y/n], aren't you? The one who always second-guesses Lamb's "kindness"?" He chittered with a small smirk. "I've seen how you've acted around them...you hate them, don't you?"

"I don't hate them." You scowled. "They saved-"

"Sure, they saved you...but only because you're a means to an end." He taunted. "You don't have to lie around me. You think they're selfish..greedy..and no different from the Bishops of the Old Faith. They seek to replace them, but they won't replace Lord Shamura. I may have failed, but I know they-"

Fed up, you swiped the megaphone from his pinchers, throwing it towards a nearby boulder and smashing it to pieces.

He gasped. "How DARE YOU-?!!" After trying to whip his tail at you in retaliation, you dodged and managed to trip him, causing him to hit the ground hard as he laid on his back, groaning.

Then you stomped on his tail, hearing his pained yell that attracted the attention of other nearby followers. You, however, paid no mind to them. "You talk too much."

"R-Release me!!"

"I can....but first tell me one thing, Hauras."

"...what?"

"How badly do you need this stinger?"

His eyes widened with terror as he saw the blade of your axe glistening in the morning sunlight, hovering dangerously close to where his stinger connected to the tip of his tail.

"N-No.." He shuddered. "You wouldn't dare.."

"Then maybe I ought to tell Lamb you're singing praises about Shamura...and we'll see if it's more than just your stinger that you lose." You had a menacing glint in your eyes.

"Please..they would never-!!"

"[Y/n]. Hauras."

You both froze and looked to see Lamb suddenly standing there, their expression full of bewilderment at what was happening before them.

The moment you took your foot off of Hauras' tail, he scrambled to his feet and ran over to them. "Great Leader! They threatened to rip out my stinger!" He kneeled down, feigning tears. "You must punish them! They are-!"

"I've heard everything, Hauras." They cut him off, giving him a stern glare. "You're dissenting again, threatening our elders, and I'm honestly getting quite sick of it. But don't worry about defending Shamura anymore...for I've claimed their heart."

From the pockets of their cloak, they revealed the purplish thorn-wrapped organ, surprising both of you.

The scorpion, however, got up and scurried away to vomit somewhere, utterly repulsed by the sight and smell of blood.

It's clear to say he wasn't going to dissent anymore.

You scoffed. "That was one of Shamura's finest warriors, capable of melting his enemies from the inside out....and he gets disgusted by that?"

"It surprised me, too." Lamb glanced at you, smiling a little as they put the heart away. "I appreciate you defending me in my absence-"

"He was trying to put words in my mouth, and I didn't like that." You quickly spoke, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Like all scorpions, he was being a little pest...and this cult has no time for that."

"...that is true. The One Who Waits wishes to speak with me after I've broken all the chains, but for now..allow me to help you cut down this tree." The Red Crown flew off their head, turning into a gleaming axe in their hands. "It's pretty sturdy-looking. Should give us enough lumbar to improve the shelters."

"....alright. Thanks for the assist, Leader." Was all you said before heading over to the tree, while they hung back for a moment to process what you said to them.

A simple thank you.

That was all they've been wanting to hear from you for a long time, and you said it! To them!

It made their smile grow tenfold, before they quickened their pace in following you, ignoring the calls of their other followers. They could feel their own tail wagging with delight.

Were you finally warming up to them?

............

"Come dance with me, [y/n]!"

"...I don't dance."

"In this cult, we do. Now c'monnn.." Lamb tugged on your hands, pouting much like a needy child as you rolled your eyes.

Who would have thought someone with such a sweet face would change the lands of the Old Faith forever?

At last, they usurped the One Who Wait--or Narinder, as he was called--proving themselves worthy of the crown that many, yourself included, believed they didn't deserve.

Although you were still shaken up after being kidnapped and almost sacrificed to him (alongside the entire cult)...you saw that terrified look upon your leader's face, and realized there's no way they could have known..

Narinder had tricked all of you, and Lamb fought back not just for their own life, but for everyone's as well.

Especially yours.

That's what ultimately restored your faith in them.

Once everything was said and done, a huge celebration commenced--and lasted for three whole days.

Tonight, for the grand finale, Lamb wished to have a dance around the bonfire. You and your followers worked hard to gather as much wood as possible, before they ignited it at sundown.

It was a beautiful sight, seeing the red flames flickering and the smoke rising high into the night sky, lighting up the cult grounds and golden decor. And seeing the followers cheer, dance, sing, and play music was a lovely thing to witness.

You, however, felt content with just observing the scene..

Or at least, until a certain sheep approached and offered you a dance.

So maybe they did find a way into your heart after all, but you insisted on entertaining them with only one short dance. Just so they stopped pestering you.

Yet it lasted longer than you thought.

Together you two shuffled, twirled, and swayed..all while some other followers took inspiration and danced with their significant others and crushes.

Yet all you could focus on was Lamb and their surprisingly elegant motions.

Nothing else.

Eventually, you both settled into a slow and gentle sway, embracing each other with them burying their face into your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The blush on your cheeks was nearly as red as your robe at this point.

But you took in this peaceful and intimate moment, your hand gingerly stroking the back of their wooly head. The Red Crown was absent, instead being on the ground beside your feet, looking up at you.

For a brief second, you gazed at it, your blush worsening as it gave you a single wink. 'Huh..they're comfortable enough to leave it off in my presence..? They trust me this much?'

"Is it wise to leave your precious crown where any fool can just steal it, Lamb?"

"Why? You fancy stealing it yourself, hm?" They looked up at you with a teasing smile. "You're the most precious thing to me..the crown is just a tool at the end of the day."

"Like all the followers you work to th...."

You stopped.

It suddenly just occurred to you that they called you "precious". But why?

Were they infatuated with you?

Were you infatuated with them?

Lamb tilted their head. "What's wrong, [y/n]?"

You only gazed back at them, at first completely tongue-tied as you saw the curious glint in their eyes, alongside the red fire that reflected off of them.

It made your heart beat fast. Heat rose to your cheeks again...and it wasn't because of the flames.

That's all it took for the final wall to crumble.

You sighed quietly, relaxing your shoulders as you offered them a tiny smile. "Nothing, my dear leader. For the first time since you've saved me, I feel...at peace being here with you. This place, and you, make me feel....safe."

Lamb nearly teared up at your words. "I'm glad. Would you like to be-?"

"Yes."

Their ears perked up with surprise. Now it was their turn to blush as scarlet covered their gray cheeks. "You...knew what I was going to say?"

"You're not the only mind-reader around here, Lamb." You chuckled at their cuteness. "If it's alright, I'd rather...take it slow. No rush to do a marriage ritual."

That took a big weight off their shoulders.

You understood what they wanted the most. You've always understood them better than anyone. Even Narinder himself.

They were so elated they couldn't help but pull you into a kiss, not minding all the followers gasping and cooing at the intimate display.

None of them mattered, though.

Only you two.

#clanask #anonymous #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #cotl lamb x reader #cotl lamb #follower reader

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