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lonelysucker7 · 5 months

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Strangers on a Train

⚠️ Chapter 2 ⚠️

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 3.9 k

Warnings: mentions of violence (but very brief), criticism towards art, parental issues (also brief), profanity once again!!

Not proofread!! But enjoy!!! ☺️

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The doors didn’t open until 11.

It was a Wednesday, and lucky for you it was a promised short day. Your work didn’t require much as a tour guide. Walk, talk, and answer questions for the art enthusiasts or students from schools that booked their tickets for days like these. And people talked. Often, even with your short time, this went on for hours without a stop.

Every art was displayed for the eye with the likes of van Gogh and Matisse, but obviously van Gogh was for the win. You’ve lost count how much you explained the importance of his life work so you didn’t really need to rehearse any mental notes and directions you were going to use. With much ease, you walked through the halls of the museum, pointing and gesturing with your hands around his paintings, remarking about the paint strokes delicately put into the work and adding backstory to them.

Occasionally there were the usual interruptions with “experts” who bragged about their knowledge regarding the tragic painter. Patiently you kept hearing them go on and on, until letting them finish when they took the hint from the crowd they wanted to move on. You didn’t bat an eye, thanking them for their contribution but silently remarking in sarcasm

“Well fuck, have my job and live my life!”

As you passed by van Gogh's Self-Portrait, you heard the crowd behind you murmuring amongst themselves in admiration. You stopped with them in front of a dark room with the exception of the interior displaying hanging LED lights, falling down from the ceiling in the style of vines colored in violets and pinks. The background offered the effect of neon lights sprawling across the walls in a manner of adding that mystic effect. It was a small forest of wonder after all.

“This is ‘Pipilotti Rist’s: Pixel Forest and Worry Will Vanish’. The artist hailing from Switzerland is always testing art in technology, intending them to be very engaging with her themes of naturalism and wonder. Composed with LED lights in the form of hanging vines and a new art form expressing human regeneration as visual imagery. There are even couches in there to relax in and dream alongside the projections shown on the walls. Maybe losing yourselves in a fantasy wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I recommend it,” you suggested with a slight smile. You stood near the doorway, scooting aside to let others take a small peak at the show.

Behind you, you hear a soft snort coming from behind the walls. Looking over your shoulder, you immediately frown with a roll of your eyes as you notice the familiar someone. Your co-worker/ friend, Bethany grinned to herself as she mimicked your speech, mouthing the words while puppeting it on her hand. Holding the urge not to call her out in the middle of the crowd, you made a small quick clap and urged your crowd to continue with you to finish the tour.

“Tickets will be available once the date is posted on the website. There will be rules regarding the exhibition so make sure to look over those if you intend on bringing children or other!”

………………………………………………………………………….

“You had me in the first half, I won’t lie. I mean, I thought your whimsy quips didn't manage to weave itself in your talk like it does out of nowhere. Because if it didn’t, I wouldn't believe you’d talk that professional.”

“Mmm, well, when you spend so much time talking about works on illusions and dreams coming to a reality, I guess you get sucked in it too. Just happens.”

The first group of touring was done for the first hour and a half, and now you found yourself having a scrutinizing conversation with Bethany about your style of work. You both were in the average noise breakroom, taking your lunch break while still keeping the time.

Getting the job was hard but you managed that getting yourself out there to effectively communicate with people required you to get yourself out of your comfort zone first.

Easy said, easy done.

One sacrifice to offer to the devil of the work was all you needed. Pretty soon your boss became impressed with your way of words, even when it seemed you lacked effort in them at first.

When you told your parents about your job, you expected them to be a little less than happy about it. That expectation was quickly dismissed as they were thrilled you had finally achieved a job (even more when they heard insurance was graciously offered to you.) Your dad joked with you about sending money their way, but you’d always cut it off with the excuse of your break coming to an end. Same case with your mom, though it was more about your college degree even being used at all.

“So what was all that money for?”

You didn’t know how to respond without becoming upset.

And you met Bethany, the security guard, meandering in the locker room. A rough start as she searched through your duffle bag for a pack of cigarettes, and to her disappointment, you didn’t have any. But you offered her gum instead and she took it without hesitation. And throughout the months that came, you got to know her better and became friends. She was in her late 30’s, single, not so much of a hopeless romantic instead preferring to stay on the side of logic and reason.

A bit “evil” you wanted to say, maybe a little too noisy but nevertheless you tolerated her presence and grew to appreciate her. Not once did she leave you out of any hot topic that roamed in the museum or her life, so you felt somewhat special being let in her inner circle.

“Ever watched that old Spanish film called ‘Open Your Eyes?’ You asked Bethany with an expectant stare from across the room. A perplexed expression crossed her features as she pulled out her casserole lunch from the microwave and made her way back to your table. She saw your sad looking ham sandwich in your hands and said

“No, why?” She tilted the veggie casserole towards you to offer in the stead of your meal and you kindly refused. You responded casually

“Because the exhibition that I talked about kinda reminds me of that movie. A dreamlike fantasy you end up losing yourself in because your reality sucks. That movie is all about that.”

Your friend made a small tsk and wagged her finger as she picked on her casserole.

“Don’t think it was the artist's literal intention to have you forget reality. Much less your worries actually vanish. All that is just for show.” Bethany mused as she picked her food, pushing away a piece of broccoli on the side of her plate. You frowned, staring at your ham sandwich with little interest. You replied assertively.

“Yeah but it's in the name. How can it not be?”

“I don’t know, I ain’t an expert in that okay? Answer it yourself.”

“Okay, fine.” A silence lingered over you both, until Bethany asked between mid-chew

“Why exactly did you ask?”

You mulled over the question of why. Maybe it was those people from the tour who interrupted so much. Maybe it was looking back on your old home life. Or the memories of what happened in the morning which flooded through your mind and you got goosebumps because of it. Suddenly you felt embarrassed to even tell. You wanted to hide under a rock from your reality. You confessed with a grim reply

“Cause I’m always wondering if my reality is a dream or my hell right now. Van Gogh was in a limbo, so where am I?”

Bethany being Bethany; cringed at the statement, making a disgusted face as she settled her fork down.

“Okay, okay enough with the philosophy and comparing yourself with dead artists. Look, I'll pinch you if you want to see if you're here with me, weirdo.”

At that you laughed breezily a bit and shook your head, responding smoothly

“No thanks, I’m good as it is. Anyways, I want to finish my lunch before I start touring again. That last group sure had its professionals. I was starting to wonder if I needed to call our boss and quit right on the spot just so they could do the job for me.” You took a bite of your sandwich with a slight grumble and chewed on it with a sigh. Bethany side glanced at you from her food and shrugged.

“Oh come on, you know Boss-man would cry if you left. You’re one of our best. You’re just overthinking it. Like you usually do with that guy on the train. Speaking of which….” Bethany leaned closer to you, you leaning back as a response from the grinchy like smile growing on her face as she rubbed her hands together.

“...You saw him again, didn’t ya?”

You stopped chewing midway of your food. No doubt you did tell her about the stranger. Fifty fifty you regret coming down to this, but she was your friend and you were dying to tell someone. In fact she was the only one you’ve told.

Bethany had remained invested in this topic for as long as you can remember, especially since you maintained your personal life private from many around you. Bethany knew some things. But glimpses of your romantic (if you wanted to coin it like that) life was like striking gold for dear Bethany.

Your eyes glanced away from her creepy smile and your mouth scrunched to the side as you mumbled

“Yes. And?”

Suddenly, she slams her palms on the table that shook with a rattle, causing you and others in the breakroom to jump. Looking back at her you almost yell with a slight strained voice, pieces of your sandwich falling abruptly on your lap.

“Was that necessary?!”

Bethany ignored you, and continued, “Did you finally ask if he was single?!”

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head, incling down at the floor from your seat as you picked up your mess from the floor.

“Of course I didn’t! You know I wouldn’t even think of asking him that. Would you have done the same?” You argued with your voice wavering a bit from the intensity, even breathing a little slowly to calm your nerves. Wrong question, you knew your answer already. Bethany crossed her arms and haughtily replied.

“Yeah, I would’ve done it if I was really that interested. Are you not? How long are ya gonna keep stalling yourself my dear co-worker? Can’t stand the idea of being rejected?”

Your brain couldn’t even process all that, leaving you gripping your thighs anxiously and your mouth gaping without a single word being uttered out. Once the calmness settled, you managed to hush out

“I’m trying… of sorts. Yeah, I’m scared shitless if I get rejected, who wouldn't? And good god Bethany, I already told you he doesn’t seem to be the type you straight up ask on those things…”

Bethany huffed a laugh, and shook her head as if she wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“Yeah but, how long have we been talking about this guy? It’s the same shit! ‘Oh I wanna talk with him this’ and ‘I wanna talk with him that—’ Please just do it, you’re killing meeeee…” Bethany whined, grabbing your shoulders from behind and shook you.

You flick your fingers on the hands on your shoulders and manage to get them off of you. As Bethany peers close to your face, you look back at her as a dark look crosses your eyes.

It finally came to your mind that you were still on your break and the whole staff room was staring at your commotion from the corner of the room. The sound of the water dripping from the sink could be heard in the background.

Pushing your chair back, you stood to let the blood flow through your legs again and moved to toss the pieces of sandwich near the garbage disposal. As you sat back down with a melancholic feeling, you mumbled,

“Everything at its time. Don’t rush me, okay?”

You buried your face in your hands continuing to mumble incoherent complaints in them. Bethany surrendered her hands in the air as she slumped in her seat and started to absentmindedly pick her casserole again.

“You're too respectful. You shouldn’t.”

You snapped your head up, glaring slightly.

“We’re strangers. I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. Some random creep asking if you're single out of nowhere? That raises so many red flags if you hadn't noticed. You know what… think I might need that pinch now.”

Bethany reached to pat your back with mild consolation, still with that smug smile and a borderline joy of taking in your pain. Now you just felt tired and yearned to go home. Sadly it was only 2 in the afternoon so you’d need to wait 3 more hours. You then hear Bethany say in a tranquilizing tone

“Take it easy. Listen I know you’re a dreamer, and you keep dreaming okay? I don’t want to burst your bubble. But while that train keeps on moving and he keeps riding it, you should shoot your shot. Never know if he’s gonna be gone the next day. Uncanny events always force someone to move out of here.”

Hearing her make that statement, raises a the hairs in the back of your head. Maybe a part of you refused to accept that fact, but you knew it was the truth. It was either take it or leave it. How long you’ve spent pondering on the thought of talking to him… oh a very long time, that you already made yourself clear on the train. You clenched your jaw, gulping quietly as you spoke with hesitancy.

“I’ll try… but I’m sure things will end up falling short of my expectations.”

“No no, I’m certain you’re gonna do fine. You have a way with words. Your personality is pretty good. And you are…” Bethany leaned back to take your form from head to toe and back over again with an easy smile “...You’re pretty hot enough to catch someone's eye. Although I’m not saying looks are everything. Say, if he saw you today, did he make any sign that he looked even the slightest interested in you?”

You scratched your cheek for a minute or two in thought, then you finally shake your head and simply responded

“No.”

“No?” Bethany repeated bluntly. You shook your head again. You made a slight tilt as you added,

“Although we did hold a stare for about 15 seconds. Does that count?”

“Hmm, it's something. What else did he do?”

“Er, well he did this funny thing with his lip. It went back a bit. Like…like he tried to…” Bethany watched you intently as you reenacted the funny lip jump. She only thinned her lips as a teasing smile started to form, until she burst, pointing a finger at you gushing.

“Oh my god, did he try to smile at you?!” Bethany's smile must have reached its limit as it was already way too wide and way too disturbing to hold eye contact. You chuckled nervously with a half-shrug.

“I guess…? It would be a first actually.” An attempted smile from him… it made your chest feel fuzzy from that thought. Still though it could’ve meant anything. Bethany giggles, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you close to her. You winced a little, smelling the breath of onion from her casserole as she whispered.

“Just go talk to him. You know you’re brave. Wake up and make it a reality. Got one life, so don’t waste it.” She gave you a small shake in her arm, before the weight was lifted off of you. You fixed the collar of your uniform and looked at the time again. Your break was over. Her words of encouragement suddenly pushed you to actually want to do it.

Like previous times of course.

“I suppose so huh? Tomorrow we’ll see then. Thanks Bethany.”

She gave you a small thumbs up as you both stood up from your seats. Both of you then stepped outside of the breakroom, departing with a side hug and left to finish the day. You waved at your crowd from the end of the hallway on your left and approached them with a professional welcoming smile.

Maybe I should do it tomorrow. Nothing can go wrong from here… right?

…………………………………..……………………………………

Now your day is over. And your pained feet were dying to get home.

But as expected you were held back for a couple reasons. First was to finish answering some questions from the guests, and then your boss whose news reached to his ears about you and Bethany “fighting” in the breakroom. To which you denied sincerely without trying to smile. You two could never.

In consequence, those actions from both parties have left you to forget the sun set earlier in the month of July. Crap.

5:45 P.M, and you also missed your train. You sent Bethany a text asking for a ride, but you deleted the message as you recalled her mentioning in the morning about a dentist appointment after her break. Meaning you were going to need to walk home.

Fuck.

Adjusting your duffel bag on your shoulder, you climbed down the stairs while keeping a taser you borrowed from Bethany close by in your pocket. You quickly took a left from the station and started jogging slightly as you wanted to avoid any possible encounter with people. Not at this hour, no siree.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this. But not regularly either.

The approximation from your work to your apartment was about 30-45 minutes depending how fast you got there on foot, but you knew you weren’t gonna get there anytime soon. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched as you jogged without a stop for breath became awkward as hell.

You passed by the town shops that still had their lights on, staying close by them as you needed to see the cemented path ahead of you. For a summer night the air felt a mix of cool air and warm heat, making you start sweating anyway. Man you felt that adrenaline and motivation push your limits already.

The night sky wasn’t all dark as it was being illuminated by a full moon and the stars sparkled brightly. You huffed a breath as you turned a dark corner.

Only a couple more blocks, I can do this.

You began to feel a little dizzy from your excessive jogging and weariness of your feet starting to catch up with you that you immediately slowed down. A sharp pain from the side of your ribs irked you to recoil and grab on to the wall to lean on. Ragged breathing started to fill your ears as you took a breather and your eyes scanned your surroundings.

You had entered an alleyway with no exit. Dark and murky.

A sudden crash from a nearby garbage dump from the exit of the alleyway, caused you to stagger back with alert. Your hand fumbled in your pocket as you pulled out your taser and kept it to your side as you looked over your shoulder, just to make sure nothing from the darkness or exit came out.

You were so wrong.

From the pit of your chest you felt your heart drop to your stomach as you saw something moving towards the entrance of the alleyway. Dark shadows plastered on the wall from the light reflected off the moon and a growling noise seemed to rumble out. It resembled that of the creature and you almost had a feeling what it was. It started to become closer and closer.

You bite your tongue trying not to make a noise, stepping back into the shadows but without realizing it; your heel accidentally stepped on a piece of glass breaking it loudly.

Shit—-

You let out a scream as the creature rages in the alley about to grab you with their sharp claws.

I’M DEAD, I’M SO DEAD—-!

Your panicked thoughts were cut off aggressively as you were pulled upwards by something that grabbed your back shirt. You felt it snap off of you as your body was being rag dolled around by something keeping you close.

And very tightly; your back was being dug with their immense grip on you. More growls and yells were heard by your ear and your eyes couldn’t focus on it. Everything was a blur of colors red, black—-

Red and black? Hold up—-

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around the neck of this something you realized… it was none other than the Scarlet Spider himself.

You stared in awe at his red lenses, seeing your own face back at them. And oh man… his breathing sounded hotter up close. Of all places you finally met the hero. Yet that didn’t stop you from feeling scared as the webbed hero was swinging swiftly in the air with the web in one hand from a great height. The feeling was just like when you were a kid, being pushed on the swing and feeling the air pressure wacking your face. So you gradually held on tightly.

Yeah—you wanted to throw up right then in there.

Below you a grassy patch of land was coming into view. A playground from the nearby school you knew close to your home. With a loud thump you both landed on the ground safely, the noises of growls faded away in the distance.

“Hey… you can let go now,” You heard a low rough voice speak from the mask. You didn’t realize you closed your eyes and you opened them, raising your head away from his shoulder. Dumbly, you shakily let go of the hero and a soft thud from the padding of your feet was audibly heard as it touched the grass.

As your arms slid from his shoulders, you only noticed that the hero was just leaning down for you when he suddenly straightened up from his inclined posture.

He was much…taller.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a gruff tone. A soft gruff tone if you heard carefully.

You shook your head just to quickly revert it to a nod as you silently answered his question. He answered it with a nod of his own as he craned his neck to look at you up and down for potential injuries.

“Good. Don’t be wandering out at night—it’s dangerous you hear? See what almost happened to you back there? Almost became a snack.”

If you had enough energy you would have laughed at the warning. You didn’t answer, just stared. An impatient snap to your face woke you from your trance.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“U-uh, y-yeah… t-thanks…” You stuttered softly.

A beat.

The hero stared at you in silence and for a moment it felt like he wanted to say something. From the looks of his hands on his sides flexing their fingers, he seemed to hesitate doing something. He didn’t do anything. Finally, he said in a rather plain tone,

“Go home now. Take a pill for the nerves and a day off. You’re shaken up, I can tell.”

“U-uh h-huh…” you managed, as the jelly legs found themselves on your legs when you turned around to walk. You were numbly questioning the creature that almost killed you and the urge to ask him came to you. You wanted to say something else to him as you turned around to face him once again—-but he was gone.

Damn. You wanted him to stay a little longer.

Home it is then. You pulled your duffel bag—-correction, nothing.

You scan all over your body for anything and you let out a frustrated groan as you realize your duffel bag was lost back at that alley. Worst of all, you didn’t even know which one.

Well… at least you had a spare key under your mat.

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11/27/23

Hello there!!

So yes I was working on this really really hard. And you have a friend yay! Maybe you’ll expect another chapter in two weeks (I know, I’m bummed out too.)

Alright so… here’s the thing.

I was drafting where this story will head and here’s what I have in mind: Kaine technically left Houston right? Because of… stuff. But what if… what if he came back?

I have hopes for that. So this fic is where that intends to go. Where Kaine technically comes back to Houston. He has his friends back (minus one if you have an idea who), and he’s basically trying to start all over again. That’s all I can say for now.

And yes of course he still has The Other (not all fanfiction is canon remember!)

This journey is likely gonna be long folks. With super long paragraphs. And a hella amount of plot.

So… enjoy every moment and thank you for your support. You guys keep me going 🤗

—LonelySucker7

Next: Chapter 3

Previously: Chapter 1

19 notes · View notes

fleursbending · 1 year

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𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥, 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲. | Neteyam Sully

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : Hi, I was wondering if you could write a Neteyamxhuman!reader where the reader takes the bullet for Neteyam, so they transport her soul to her avatar and they become really emotional upon waking up and seeing her human body, dead and they all (sully family and metkayina clan) have a funeral for her human body. Neteyam comforts her and mourns with her??

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : neteyam x human!reader (eventual na'vi!reader. sully family x reader, ronal x reader (platonic).

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : thank you @karmascale for requesting this! this was a challenge to write and i hope i did your request justice! i did a few minor tweaks just to make the story flow better. this slightly deviates from the original plot in the movie! feedback is once again, much appreciated - i love hearing ur guys thoughts! this piece is my prized posession 😭😭😭 if there's any mistakes pls lmk! reader is gn!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, blood, funeral, angst, mourning/grief, eventual fluff, gsw, death, detailed descriptions of pain/slipping in and out of consciousness, seizure.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.6k words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @odessa-is-my-queen

closely helped me through writing this so here is something to listen to if you want to get even more immersed ↷

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄. That's the only thought that had been drilled into his mind ever since your body had struggled to stay afloat after jumping off the ship.

The once crystal clear blue waters were now tainted with an angry scarlet colour. Neteyam did not know what the source of it was. His heart had sunken, missing a beat when your head had not popped out of the water to cheer with the rest of them.

"Wait, where's Y/n?" Neteyam, panted as he tried to catch his breath.

Prior to all this, he had expressed how you should have gone back to Awa'atlu. But your eyes had a fire that even he couldn't shoot down. His family by definition was yours as well. You just couldn't sit this one out, not this time.

Your struggled gasps answered his question, your head bobbing back underwater only to resurface seconds later.

"Nete, I think I've been shot." You groaned in pain, as you struggled to stay afloat.

"You are such a skxawng, Y/n!" Neteyam cried, immediately swimming over to your side as he helped hold your much smaller body up.

"Hey, that's not nice." You tried to retort jokingly, only to cough up blood right after you had finished your sentence.

You weren't supposed to be there. Your link machine was experiencing issues, Norm was fixing it. Tuk, and Kiri, had brought you out to the ocean as you waited. You've been begging to see baby Ilu's ever since the Metkayina clan allowed you, Norm, and Max to stay behind after Kiri's seizure. Now seemed like the perfect time to do so, but they couldn't have been more wrong about their decision.

When you three had seen Lo'ak rushing off to warn Payakan about the tracker. Your friends not trailing too far behind him, you all joined too. You believed Lo'aks words from before, you didn't know such brutal consequences would come from such actions.

It was you and Neteyam who fled to drop the tracker further away, only to witness in horror as your friends were trapped in a net, being lifted by Ikrans and dropped on the large ship.

Only months ago were you all held captive, but the stakes are larger than life now. You were horrified. Neteyam curated a plan, only on the ship to cut them out of their restraints. Then you'd all head back together. But Lo'ak wanted to save Spider, and a sky-person turned Na'vi was blocking your freedom back into the water.

You weren't supposed to be there. He thought he got you out there safely, how stupid of him to think that.

His amber eyes caught sight of your gunshot wound when he and Lo'ak pulled you on top of Tsireya's Ilu. His world was crumbling around him, and all he could do was apply pressure.

"It hurts!" You grunted, the pain like nothing you've ever experienced before.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry, Y/n." Neteyam shushed you, trying to give you some comfort while calming his own worries.

His father's words began to repeat in his mind from the training lessons he used to teach his kids when they were far younger. This one focused on sky-people and the type of weapons they use. The damage it can cause.

"Son, a bullet wound is deadly - only if there is an exit wound."

How did a bullet even hit you? It should have been him. Now he felt like he was paying the price.

Neteyam cursed to himself, yaymak.

"We must bring Y/n back! They can help them there!" Lo'ak interjected, trying to get everyone's attention. He was worried for his friend who wasn't even in their Avatar body. The tensions were through the skies that gloomed down on you all.

Tsireya, clutching onto her dear friend for life - nodded hastily. Yipping at her Ilu, they made haste back to their village.

Neteyam previously thought his greatest loss was the time he missed out with you. But now there was a chance of truly losing all of you. He couldn't bare the weight that train of thought held over him.

When his parents had told them that they'd have to leave all they'd ever known. He knew you wouldn't follow in their footsteps. They didn't even have a foolproof plan. And it would be too dangerous for you, your avatar was not ready yet.

He wanted to stay, but his family needed him now - more than ever before. They wouldn't allow it anyway.

"I will wait for you, Nete." You had told him, speaking so softly. Your words were full of warmth, full of promise. You sounded so sure, and it reassured him so much. He was utterly devoted to every fiber of your being. You already encompassed his entire mind. Each decision he had been making lately that would benefit his future, always circled back to you.

If he closed his eyes he'd still remember every minor detail of that day. The day he had to say goodbye. It was gutwrenchingly beautiful.

You stood on a tree trunk, and he wanted to curse Ewya for having to make humans wear masks. Because as your tiny hands grasped his face, his fists clenched in sheer desperation to caress yours. But he couldn't, not with that damned mask in the way.

Instead he opted for tucking a stray braid behind your ear, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. His hands hovered over yours above his face, before grasping them. You'd never get over how they dwarfed yours, how it felt to bask in his warmth. It felt like a reminder from Ewya that you were destined to be together.

You could see the tears he was trying not to shed, and feel the way his hands were slightly shaking. His ears laid flat, tail hung low. And it felt like a punch in the gut, a harsh reminder of not knowing when he would come back here.

The fear of not knowing when you'd be in each other's presence again.

His gaze kept traveling between every feature of your face. The boy did not have any artistic ability in his bones, but he'd be utterly dumb to not remember every minute detail that he had fallen for.

This wasn't earth, there were no devices that could reach as far as they were hoping to go. No mailing system. They'd have to rely on their trust for one another this time.

With purpose, you held his chin. "I. Will. Wait. For. You." You had annunciated every word.

Determination flickered in his eyes, and his hands held onto your mask, the part that covered your cheeks. You blushed, he'd never done that before.

"I will wait for you, Y/n." He declared as his forehead met yours.

"Come on, bro!" Y/n suddenly said, wait what?

His shoulders were being shaken, and he was brought back into the harsh reality.

"Hop on!" Lo'ak tugged on his arm, as he and Spider waited for him. Neteyam swung himself onto his Ilu. They raced back to shore.

He briefly saw Ronal ushering a member of the Metkayina clan who was holding his Y/n, into a mauri.

He started to head towards them with Spider when he realised Lo'ak wasn't following. He quickly turned around and beckoned him over, only to witness him hopping back on his Ilu.

"What are you doing?" Neteyam hissed at him.

"I have to go back for Tuk and Kiri! They are still there, mum and dad as well." Lo'ak explained.

"I'm coming with you." Spider walked back over, Lo'ak wanted to argue about it - but knew they didn't have time.

He could see the conflict in his older brother's eyes.

"I got this brother. I know that doesn't feel reassuring. because I usually don't. But this is our family, I won't fuck this up." Lo'ak insisted, he didn't want to risk a slim chance of potentially losing anyone else.

"Lo'ak...-" Neteyam tried to change his younger brother's mind.

"Please, trust me. You're going to regret not being here if Y/n gets worse." Lo'ak contested, he knew he was right.

Neteyam shut his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Contemplating his choices, he knew what he had to do.

"Go, but be alert. This isn't a raid back home!" Neteyam said.

Lo'ak nodded in acknowledgment, turning his Ilu and heading back to the ship in the distance along with Spider.

When they were nothing but a speck in the distance, he quickly rushed over to the mauri he saw Y/n and Ronal enter.

He rushed in, his heart somersaulting at the sight before him. You were pale, too pale. Your chest barely rises up and comes back down. He could tell you were on the verge of losing consciousness.

"Please mother, let me ask for the humans!" Tsireya begged as she continued to try to stop the bleeding.

"Fine, go get them." Ronal allowed it, continuing to do her ritual.

Tsireya was about to get up, but Neteyam stopped her.

"I can do it." He mumbled.

He made sure his comms were on the channel that had a connection with both his parents, Norm, and Max.

"Norm, Max.-" his voice choked up.

"I don't know what you are doing right now, but Y/n is dying. I need you to come to the chief's house, now! I don't- I don't know what you need to bring but just what you can! Please!" Neteyam pleaded as he fell by your side, his fingers running through your hair.

Blood splatter was speckled on the inside of your mask, and you blinked slowly in response to his barely there touch. Gazing up at him, a pained smile graced your face.

"Neteyam, is that you?" You asked.

"It's me, I'm here," Neteyam replied, tearing up at your whimpers of pain.

"We're on our way! Eta is 3 minutes!" Norm's rushed voice sounded through his comms.

"Tell her we are here. I am here." Neytiri's voice sounded forced, holding in the emotions she was truly feeling at that present moment.

"Okay, okay. Mom is with you, she is rooting for you. You hear me, Y/n? We all are!" He hoped his words were giving you strength, he felt like anything he could potentially do wouldn't be enough. Neteyam could only pray to Eywa that his mother would be okay after what she had just heard.

Neytiri loves you like you were her own, to this day she cannot pinpoint why she held such prejudice towards Spider but not you. Maybe because his father killed her own and the fact he had destroyed her clan's sanctuary.

Your mother and father were fierce, in a sense they were seen as warriors through her eyes. Alongside Trudy, they had pioneered the revolution against Colonel Quaritch and his followers. Y/n's mother had worked side by side with Grace, while your father worked on the front lines.

Right before the battle, she had confided in Neytiri.

"I am with child. If anything ever happens to my family, please take care of her." Neytiri took this newfound information in and agreed, deep down only hoping for the best. They were some of Neytiri's and Jake's greatest allies.

But Y/n's father was killed taking a stand, and with too much sorrow in her heart. Y/n's mother carried you to full term. Only to pass away after being with you for the first three months of your life. Neytiri nurtured you alongside Neteyam. She too just like Neteyam, could only pray to Ewya that you'd be okay.

"I'm scared," you spoke so quietly that if he wasn't as close to you as he was. He wouldn't have heard you at all.

"It's okay to be scared, I've got you. You're going to be okay." Neteyam emphasised with you, trying to offer more alleviation to such a dire situation.

"We're here- fuck." Norm cursed, as Max unpacked a few things.

"Nete, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep." Drowsiness was tempting you, and the pain was beginning to fade into nothingness.

"No! You must stay awake!" Neteyam tapped on your mask, but your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

You started to seize.

Ronal and Tsireya continued to chant, as Norm turned her on her side.

"There's too much blood, Max!" Norm shouted.

It poured out like a languid waterfall, strangely just like some of the ones back in the forest. He felt the dread tugging at him, he was losing you.

He held your head to stop you from potentially hurting yourself even more when suddenly your body slumped. Your breaths come out in wheezes.

Neteyam could no longer hold back his tears, he had never felt so helpless and petrified. He wished the rest of his family was here, in a room full of people - he felt stranded.

Max clocking onto this, pitched out a thought. "I don't know if it will work, but I have an idea." He held a flashlight above Y/n's eyes as he spoke.

"What is it? We'll make it work." Neteyam insisted. He would do whatever it takes to be able to rid you of this agony.

Ronal eyed the boy, understanding his struggles. Then stared at the humans who were fumbling over Y/n's body, using foreign devices.

"You wish to transfer Y/n's soul to their avatar," Ronal replied as she listened to your heart. It was weak, but still persisting.

Max gaped at her, the Tshahik must have put two and two together.

"We cannot save Y/n from these injuries, they are fatal. That is the only way." Max further explained, not meeting Neteyam's eyes. He knew what he was suggesting was an ultimatum larger than life. But he could not see any other way, you were already advancing further in succumbing to your wounds.

"What you are asking of me is something that has only been done a few times, not once has it been performed in our clan. As the Tsahik I cannot guarantee this will be successful!" Ronal protested as she continued to tend to you however way possible.

Tsireya continued to plug Y/n's wounds, listening in, as Neteyam hesitantly let go of your hand. Moving to Ronal, he kneeled down before her.

Ronal noted one thing, the eyes she was looking into were drastically different from how she remembered them moments ago. Now it was untamed, yet persistent.

"I know my family has caused enough destruction. I know you never wanted us here in the first place. You believed we would not do our part, and I cannot fault you for thinking that way. We have learned your ways, adapted like my father did." He then motioned to you behind him.

"So will Y/n. In your eyes, sky people come from demon blood, but their parents fought on Toruk Makto's side. They made a difference, just like Y/n has started to do here. Y/n is an excellent fisher and healer. The children in this clan have warmed up to them. Because that's the effect they have on people! I swear, if you give them this second chance, they will be forever grateful. And if it doesn't go the way we wish for it to, I will not put the blame on you. The decision of whether or not she passes through the 'Eye of Eywa' only lies with our great mother." Neteyam held his chin up high, not bothering to wipe away the tears that began to stream down his face.

Ronal looked at Neteyam for a few more beats, before shifting to look at you.

"Prepare them for travel, we do not have much time before they get too weak for the transfer." Neteyam cried out in relief, thanking the great mother as he moved back over to you.

"Stay with me, just a little more Y/n," Neteyam begged, squeezing your hand encouragingly.

"I can't feel anything Neteyam, please I'm scared." You whispered to him, and he tried to put on a strong face. But he couldn't even imagine how scared you must be if he was already paralyzed with fear. All he could do was pet your head. and give you continuous kisses on your hair and forehead. Ewya, please be with us right now.

"Where are they?" Neteyam could hear his mother calling for them outside.

"In here!" He beckoned them over.

"Tsireya, get your father and gather whoever can come with us. We must leave to the Coves of the Ancestors, now." Ronal advised her child.

She quickly halted what she was doing and dashed outside of the mauri.

Neytiri's hand fell to her mouth at the sight of you, weeping as Jake whispered comforting words to her.

"Mother." Neteyam looked up at her, not knowing how to proceed from here.

"Ronal, may I bring her on my Ikran?" Neytiri in just a single moment changed face. Time was of the essence.

"Yes, you have not been where we are going. Follow along with us." Ronal commanded, gathering her things and getting ready to ride.

At this point you were slipping in and out of consciousness, but Tsireya had been able to temporarily stop the bleeding. Neytiri cradled you in her arms as she walked outside, calling for her Ikran.

The Sully family and Metkayina clan made their way to the Cove of the Ancestors. Ronal could not shake the feeling she had thought. That no matter what - they would end up holding a funeral there tonight. She dared not to voice such feelings.

Neytiri stayed leveled, flying closely side by side with Jake and Neteyam. She kept looking down at you through the short journey, checking on you. She wasn't the only one who was doing so though. Neteyam as well kept a close eye on you. Sometimes his Ikran would brush too closely to Neytiri's. She let it slide this time.

The last time Neteyam was here, you were in your Avatar body. You both had a deep love for sacred places to the Na'vi, and this one wasn't any different. Neither of you has heard of the place before, but it didn't squash the appreciation you both had for it. He recalls not just being in awe of his surroundings, but also of you. Your eyes held something remarkable, full of wonder. You'd given him one of your big grins, the one that only comes out in times like this. Your deep appreciation for monumental sites like this made him think of how your heart was just pure gold.

"You'd make a great Tsahik one day", is something he had cheekily said to you. In return you gave him a smack on the shoulder, scolding him. He harbored such great memories from that day, he loved it. He could only desire to relive that instead of all this.

The wind swooshed in her ears, but Neytiri faintly heard you say, "I like it here." She grinned down at you tearfully.

Truthfully, you don't know much about where you came from, to you - Pandora was and always will be your home. Nothing could compare to the beauty it beholds.

"Me too," Neytiri spoke wistfully.

You all were approaching the spirit tree, submerged in the ocean. It glowed like no other. The clan began to make a circle around it, linking their arms.

"Jake, we have their avatar!" Norm called from a rock not too far from the tree that they were safely able to land on. They had left before everyone else to get there ahead of time.

Jake flys down to them, retrieving your avatar.

Neytiri and Neteyam go to the same rock. They step off their Ikrans as Neytiri treats them like a feather. Your whimpers of discomfort do not go unnoticed.

Ronal and Tonawari approach them with a large leaf of sorts.

"You may place her in here," Tonowari told them.

You looked peaceful, too peaceful. You were placed in the leaf, as Ronal began to float you closer to the Spirit tree. The Sullys closely followed behind their Tsahik.

"Jake, attach their avatar to the spirit tree" Ronal ordered.

Jake nodded, placing a mask on your Avatar and activating it - an idea of Norms and Max as you would be underwater for an unknown amount of time. He connected your queue to the tree, the closest he could to the surface.

"We must put them to sleep for the ceremony to start. If you'd like to say anything to them, now is the time." Ronal gave you moments of privacy, swimming over to members of the Metkayina clan to further explain what was going on.

Neteyam couldn't remove his eyes from your Avatar that was shifted with the current of the ocean. Swaying whilst attached to the Spirit Tree, he'd never seen your Avatar look so lifeless.

Jake waved him over, "Neteyam, they are asking for you."

Tuk was crying, her head leaning against your own. You quietly spoke to one another, even while in agony - you managed to make the youngest Sully giggle.

Neteyam drew closer to you, even if you were facing away from him. Like clockwork, you felt his presence. Your head slightly turning to acknowledge him.

Tuk moved back, latching onto Lo'ak as she cried into his shoulder. The entire Sully family have given words of encouragement to Y/n, Jake especially - explaining the process and how it felt passing through "The Eye of Eywa". He could only pray you'd get that far. He was truly hoping this wouldn't be a repeat of Grace Augustine.

"This is not goodbye. When you wake up, I will be by your side the entire time. You are not alone. Oel ngati kameie." He stated, headstrong - like his father.

Neteyam wanted to wipe away your tears, he wanted to lean his head against yours without the obstruction of the mask. He realised that very soon, it could be possible. If you make it through this, that is.

"Neteyam I-I, Oel ngati kameie." You stuttered, voice cracking. That was all you can manage.

Ronal expectantly surveyed the Sullys, Neteyam nodded. It's time.

"We will now begin the consciousness transfer. Neteyam, connect them to the Spirit Tree. You may rest for the time being, Y/n." Ronal announced, everyone, witnessing their mighty Tsahik.

Your eyes fluttered shut, Neteyam looked at his family, before taking a deep breath and bringing their limp body to the Spirit tree.

His eyes widened as one of the leaves reached out, attaching itself to your back. Eywa, are you here? A comforting hand met his shoulder, his foundation. His family.

The Sullys linked their arms as Neytiri and Neteyam held onto you.

The Spirit Tree was alive, its light brightening a tenth fold. Flickering, as it seemed to react to the chanting of the clan. The Sullys could only cling onto each other more tightly as each leaf on the spirit tree lit up. It was fascinating to witness, they were just hoping it would work.

Before they knew it, the lights ceased. Ronal from above the surface halted everyone, before diving down to where you were. Tonowari, Tsireya, and Ao'nung trailed behind. They all looked to you expectantly, hoping for any sort of sign.

Gasping you awaken, struggling to catch your breath as you immediately check your surroundings. Neteyam almost choked on the water as your eyes opened, he tried to get your attention but you were too lost in your own world.

You were in the water, but how were you breathing? The mind-numbing pain was gone, and you definitely felt different. You were trying to remember and process whatever had just happened. Oh yes, the ceremony. It must have not worked, you're still wearing a mask.

By instinct your hands move to cover your face in shame, instead, you see that it's your avatar's hands. You tilt your head down, the legs, feet! It's all blue. Did it actually work?

Neteyam swan closer to your side, pointing upwards. Signing to you to swim up to the surface, you nodded. Detaching your queue, you made your way to the surface - the Sullys except Neytiri followed behind closely.

This time when your head pops out from the water, there is no bullet wound. You weren't bleeding out, you were truly Na'vi. You've miraculously been given a second chance at life.

You removed your mask as grateful tears streamed down your face. You gaped at Ronal and the Metkayina clan, "Thank you, thank you so much." You spoke to them all, signing "I see you".

When you reached Ronal, you brought her into a hug. The soon-to-be mother of a 3rd child was in shock, looking at Tonowari. The man could only grin, urging his mate to return the hug. And so, she did just that.

"Y/n!" Tuk screamed in delight as she swam over to you, you disconnected from Ronal. Mouthing "thank you again", she let a smile slip as she took in your words.

You hugged Tuk, looking at Neteyam over her shoulder. He was looking at you, differently. It was expected that he was always more attentive towards you. It felt all too similar to when he tried to remember every piece of you before parting ways. He was in disbelief.

Neytiri came up from behind Neteyam, a large leaf in her grasp as Jake helped console her.

Neteyam let Y/n lean their head on his shoulder as he squeezed you, kissing your cheek. They all realised what exactly, or who Neytiri was carrying.

Your human body.

You didn't want to look, it felt far too strange to do so. While your avatar still held features very similar to that of your human self, most of what resembled your parents felt futile. It just wasn't the same anymore, and it never would be again.

You felt grateful that you were already aware of how it felt to live amongst the Na'vi in an Avatar body. Navigating this body isn't rocket science, you've been in and out doing so these past few months.

Tsireya comes, with a handful of flowers and seashells. She delicately spreads them around in the leaf.

"In our village, we give back energy to the ocean, the sea will allow their past self to rest peacefully." Tsireya indicated to the ocean floor beneath you all that held a yellow glow.

Neytiri leans her head down, kissing your now-closed eyelids. She felt a sense of deja-vu creeping up on her. Her family follows her actions, all of them kissing your eyelids, their own unspoken version of goodbye. As Neytiri and Jake brought your human body down to the sea anemone that awaited for you, all you could think and wish for - was more time.

You didn't understand why the circumstances had to be like this. As you watched that version of yourself begin to disappear, it physically felt like a part of yourself went with it.

Y/n no longer felt naive to Pandora. They knew more than most about this beautiful luxury. Now that they'd been gifted with a body that was stronger, and more capable. They would stand with their chin held high and fight. Just like their parents had done.

Slowly everyone disperses, making their way back to Awa'atlu. Neteyam can see how drained you are, he silently beckons you to follow him. They make their way back to his Ikran, flying back home.

Everyone's asleep. You had tried to do so yourself, but you only got a good hour in before being awoken by the thoughts circling your mind. Poor Neteyam was exhausted, so it didn't take much for you to escape from his hold and make your way outside.

You let yourself sit on the shore, gazing up at the twinkling stars and endless skies. Squinting your eyes, you saw someone making their way back. Ronal.

Her cyan eyes widened seeing you, hopping off her Ilu she walked over.

"Can't sleep?" Ronal inquired at the obviously distraught child.

You shake your head, no.

Ronal sighed, "I understand, today has changed your life. It is good that you have such a strong support system."

All you could muster was a grin, "Thank you, Ronal. I know I've said that countless times today. But I don't know what convincing it took, but I will forever be in debt to you."

This time, it was Ronal who shook her head.

"I am your Tsahik, you have proven to not be useless here. But that Sully boy, he begged for me to do whatever it takes to save you. I'd like to believe Tonowari would have done the same for me if I was one of the good sky people. You are essential to Metkayina, you are one of us now."

She let her hand linger on your shoulder. Before you could get a response in, Ronal was already walking away back to her mauri.

You looked over your shoulder, she'd done the same.

Speaking it out didn't feel enough, therefore you signed it instead.

"Oel ngati kameie." She did the motion in return.

As she walked inside her mauri, someone else caught your attention.

Your Neteyam.

He darted over to you, a worrisome expression plastered on his face.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" He blurted out, lifting your arms to check if there were any wounds.

"I am, not physically though. Thank you for worrying about me, Nete. I am mourning what I've lost, what those demons have robbed away from me." You explained to him, your hand movements were erratic as you were still trying to come to terms with everything yourself.

Neteyam clenched his fists, before bringing you into his embrace. You leaned your head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. It dawns on you, you could've lost this.

Your grip tightens, truly taking him in as you bring your hands through his braids. You could've lost him.

He seemed to be coming to terms with the same realisation. You heard him sniffling as he breathed you in. You made him lean back, your thumbs following his tears as you gently brushed them away. He nuzzled his face into your hands, his body shaking as he tried to conceal the depth of his emotions.

Neteyam tried to speak, his mouth opening only to close again. You let him reign his thoughts as you continued to gently caress his defined cheekbones.

You gazed into his eyes, they were dark, lost. He seemed worlds away from you..

"I simply cannot live in a world that doesn't have you in it." Neteyam spoke through clenched teeth. Like uttering those words was a physical blow to his gut.

"Nete...-" You tried to offer words of comfort, only to be cut off.

You let him - because you understand him.

He exclaimed. "You are my home! You are my person! It should have been me, Ewya worked her miracles today. But seeing you now, compared to how you just were. I keep doubting if you are even real."

Neteyam could not meet your coaxing eyes, his hands were gripping your arms for dear life. Truth be told, when he had woken up and you weren't there? He had thought the ceremony was a sick joke he had curated to cope. His heart almost gave out when he went outside the mauri only to see you sitting in the same spot you always seemed to endeavor.

"And you are mine, I am here. I am real." You carefully removed his hands from your arms, placing one on your cheek and the other on your heart.

"The great mother has given me a second chance, all thanks to you. Do not beat yourself up for something that was out of your control. We've already lost so much time, I cannot afford to dwell on it any longer." Your words settled in his soul, making itself an oasis there. It was like a thwack to the back of his head, just like the ones you'd do when you scolded him.

You're really here. He could breathe.

You were right, it all has already happened. All you can do is move forward. That you can both do, together. As a pair, you were an unstoppable force.

His eyes that were so lost a few moments ago opened, with newfound sparks of hope. A new sense of purpose. Behind all that flickered rage, directed at the sky people. They would pay for what they've done to you if they crossed each other's paths in life again.

You beamed at him, he looks so radiant at this moment. He let you lean your head on his shoulder as he held your hands in his. He traced random patterns on yours as he looked down at them.

"Tanhi, I forget even now your hands are still smaller than mine." He smirked at you as you snarled at him.

"Shut up, skxawng!" You giggled and he could only grin in return, giving your hands a gentle kiss or two.

Between one another you talked about your favourite memories of when you were human through the rest of the eclipse. Neteyam chuckled at one he was specifically fond of as you continued to rant about it.

As his nose nuzzled into yours, your cheeks became a deeper blue hue at his actions. He couldn't be more grateful for the Great Mother and her ways. Neteyam decided to take this whole experience as the beginning of something else entirely.

Eywa has secured a lifetime with you. His father was right, his family is a fortress. He will no longer take that for granted.

Neteyam may not become the Olo'eyktan like his parents were preparing him for. But wherever either one of you went, the other always followed. He will protect that honour for as long you'll let him, and he hopes it lasts for this life and every other one that the world demands of him.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

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#junie's library 📚✧.*#atwow #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #ronal x reader #atwow spoilers #avatar x reader #sully family x reader #bro this piece is my bitch 😭😭 i worked so hard on her!1!1 #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #accepting rqs for avatar though feel free to send them through!#୨୧ ⁓ junie's corner ⁓ ୨୧ #neytiri ily <3 #Spotify

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qaxqxd · 10 months

Text

Painkiller

♡Pair: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Genre: minor Angst / fluff

Warning: Injuries, blood. Incorrect British slang and spanish.

A/n: Miguel can release how much Venom he wants to release, so this doesn't paralyzed (Y/n)

Summary: You got injured from a mission and Miguel basically decides to numb your pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Miles! Watch out!" You yelp as the Lizard bites you.

You made sure the Lizard didn't bite Miles. Its sharp teeth sink into your inner thigh. You punch the Lizard to get its teeth off of you.

As you did you swung a web out to a nearby building. Getting on top of it to check out your wound.

"Hey- Are you alright?" Miles swung by. He was in a panic.

You hissed in pain as you checked your wound. Your suit was ripped where you were bit. Bloody bite mark.

"Im- fine." You huffed. "Call for backup. Without Miguel's knowledge. " You spoke while holding your wound. And Mile did as he was told.

He called in Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr. They jumped out the portal seconds later.

"S’You called it, mate." Hobie shrugged. As the three realized you were injured.

"Oh my god- (Y/n)- are you alright?" Gwen crouched to take a look at your wound.

"I'm fine, don't worry." You shook off your wound. Wincing slightly when you push a towel onto it.

"Uhm, guys there's a Lizard down here." Pavitr pointed as he played with his bangle.

"Right, that." You sighed.

"We'll get that handle for you." Miles laid a hand on your shoulder. "Trust us." He smiled. You sighed.

"Well you better not tell Miguel about this." You winced.

"You s’betcha." Hobie swung off the building. As well as the other three jump off the building too. You panic when you saw, your watch glow.

It was Jess. Thank god.

"Oh- hey Jess.. how's the baby coming along?" You smiled.

"What's going on? And why did Miles call for backup?"

"Oh! I told him to. You see this… Lizard is pretty strong?" You gave a low chuckle.

"But!" Before Jess spoke again.

"We have it under control, promise." You plead, hoping she doesn't send herself or even worse Miguel.

You knew Miguel was going to bench you after this injury. So you made sure he wasn't going to find out.

And if he does Miles might not survive another day.

Jess nodded, turning off her side of the call. You lead back on the smashed concrete that was behind you.

But goodness.

It hurts like hell.

+-~-+

The four spider people lead you to the Medbay, making sure no one sees you. Once you got there. Miles used his Medbay card to check you in and out. Making sure no one knew you were injured.

Your wounds were patched and clean. You were almost healed. Expected the part where you're limping. But, it was very light, so no one could notice it if they were a mile away.

After you left the Medbay you went back to your Spider-dimension. Going back to your apartment.

You quickly changed and lay in your soft cold bed. Taking a break. Your injury was sort of aching. Miles said he would sign you out.

Somehow, he likely would have made it worse.

"Morale. Where. The. Hell. Are. They." Miguel frowned.

"Somewhere?" Miles flailed his shoulders.

"Somewhere? SOMEWHERE? They're your partner, estúpido. How could you lose them?" (Stupid)

"Do you like them, aye?" Hobie added. Which seems to have shut up Miguel.

The room was silent.

"I'm going to check their watch." Miguel Ignoring Hobie's question would make everyone confused.

Miguel turns on your watch's camera. Everyone was bracing themself for Miguel to yell.

But he didn't. More like he was mesmerized. The screen was big.

You were lying in your bed, covers right on top of you. The watch right on top of your nightstand.

How Miguel was staring at you, everyone in the room knew Miguel had the fastest crush on you.

Lyla snapped him out of it. He was embarrassed. A deep scarlet red rose around his face.

"You can leave, now." He turned behind to see no one there. He let out an annoyed sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

+-~-+

Few days went by and you tried your best to distance yourself from Miguel, hoping he didn’t notice you were injured. Going on missions when needed, making sure to lower suspicions. This didn’t help your injury heal at all.

It only got worse. It was only time before Miguel caught on. He noticed your constant limping when you came back from every mission.

He called you in one day.

“Yo, you need something?” You asked, webbing to his platform. Trying to stand still as possible.

“You want to tell me what you’re hiding?” He glanced at you, with his arms crossed.

“I’m fine.” You said.

“What?” He frowned more than usual. “You're injured?”

Oh shit… He didn’t know?

“No-? What I meant to say is ‘What do you mean?’ ” You fidget with your hands. Not like he was going to believe that, but you still tried anyway.

He walked up a bit closer to you. You walk back a few steps, almost falling off the platform, till he catches you by the suit. You wince slightly. Miguel seems to notice you wince. His frown turned into a concerned face.

He carried you bridal style on to his desk.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked, searching around your body.

“I told you, I’m fine. You got off the desk landing on your bad leg. You hiss slightly, crouching a bit. Miguel lifted you back on the desk.

“Eso no suena bien. I’m not going to ask you again. Where does it hurt?” (That doesn’t sound fine.) He looked at you. As he pressed around your leg, as soon as he heard you whimper in pain. He ripped the thigh part of your suit.

“You owe me a new suit.” You said, wincing.

“Lyla, make (Y/n) another suit.” As the orange hologram appears.

“You got it, bossman” As Lyla puts up multiple orange screens.

Miguel's eyes widened when he saw bandages, bled through.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” His voice softened. You look away from him.

“Didn’t want to be bench.” You shrugged. You heard him sigh.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it feels like an ant bite.” You said sarcastically.

“Have you taken painkillers yet?” He asked.

“No, those don’t do much.” You sighed, aching at every movement.

“Could I perhaps try?”

“Giving me medicine?” You frown.

“Do you trust me?” He crouches to your knees.

“Yeah?”

“This might sting a little.” He spoke, spreading your legs out a bit.

“What are you-” You whimpered, as he stuck his two fangs into your thigh. You felt a cool numbing to your leg. It was a relief, but you were blushing like crazy.

“Better?” He asked, with a faint pink expose on his cheek.

You nodded at him with a million thoughts in your head. Your heart was beating a little faster than usual. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. You always had a small crush for Miguel, but you never thought anything like this.

“You might not be able to walk for a little.” As he started to re-bandage you. “You shouldn’t be moving at all, either way.” He carried you off the platform into his spare bedroom.

“Take me out to dinner first, O’hara.” You joked. As he placed you down on the bed.

“Sure, when you get better.” He placed a light kiss on your forehead.

Wait what?

W.C 1.2k

#miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel spiderverse

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irisvault · 2 months

Text

◜ 🎒 ◞ cotton spider ↪︎ peter parker

peter parker x gn!reader. miscommunication. oneshot. lowercase intended. established relationship. || 0.5k words

summary; you’ve always loved your stuffed spiderman doll like your own son, but you’ve never shown peter because.. well, he is spiderman. nothing can get past someone with radioactive blood though.

no different from your usual friday nights, you were aimlessly flitting through the seemingly endless pages of homework you’d been set for the week. you sighed, rubbing your tired eyes, and promised yourself you’d do it tomorrow.

you groan into the pillow, and reach for the blur of scarlet you could see from the corner of your eyes. “what should i do, spiderman?” you say to it, as if it were a friend. you supposed, in some ways, it was, but it mostly functioned as something to throw at walls when your frustration got the better of you. poor spidey.. you think, and kiss his imaginary injuries better.

you get the sense that stuffed spiderman is telling you to go to the kitchen for some food, so you agree with him, and bring him down with you. “what do you spiders even eat..?” you say, thinking back to peter’s huge lunches, fuelled by his hyper-fast metabolism.

you reach for a cupcake from a four-pack you bought recently and place spiderman on the counter. “don’t look at me like that..” you say, returning his stare. “spiders don’t eat cupcakes.”

you take a bite of the pink-frosted cupcake, relishing in the sweet taste. god, you could not get enough of this. vanilla is too good.

glancing over to spiderman, you ask, “would another one hurt?” spiderman obviously agrees with you. “good choice.” you take another cupcake and bring spiderman back to your room, but before you can even think of eating your second cupcake, a tall figure stands in the door.

“y/n!!”

peter?

you blink, and suddenly realise you’re holding a stuffed animal version of your boyfriend, so you naturally scramble to shove it under your pillow.

“haha…” you laugh, trying to act natural, “hey peter!”

peter sees through you. maybe it’s his tingle? “what was that?” he asks, suspicious. stupid tingle.

you try diverting the conversation, “cupcake?” you smile saccharinely, but your skin crawled with irritation at the fact that it was your cupcake. desperate times call for desperate measures, you suppose.

“ooh!” peter exclaims, “yes please—“ he grins, taking your offer, before realising your cunning trick worked on him.

you try to seem calm, though your nervous fiddling seems to catch peter’s attention.

“y/n.” he says, matter of factly, “you’re not cheating on me, are you?”

your eyes widen with shock, “what!? no, oh my god.” you rush out, trying desperately to assure him of your innocence.

“then— what do you have to hide?” he grimaces, “y/n/n… are you looking at… you know..”

you gasp, grabbing your pillow and thwacking him across the head, scandalised. he lets out a surprised yelp, but he notices the plush that you had hidden.

“oh my god…” he mutters, before howling with laughter. you realise your mistake, and go bright red, hiding your hands in your face.

“stop laughing!!” you protest, throwing the pillow at him once again.

“ow—!” he cries, but his grin remains the same. his lips quirk even further upwards before he asks, “how long have you had him..?”

you pout, sending him an evil look. “you’re making fun of me.”

“i’m not—!” he counters, but the fact he’s doubled over with laughter tells a different story.

you grab spiderman, and pat his head. “spidey doesn’t like being made fun of.”

peter’s expression morphs into one of incredulity, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “spidey?”

#spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x gn!reader #y/n #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #gn!reader #marvel fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction

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lovelettersforthedamned · 7 months

Text

Too Close For Comfort

--genre + trope: collegeAU! hurt/comfort, angst, sfw (safe for work)

--pairing: tsam!peter parker x gn!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--author's note: FIRST FIC! WE UP!!!

--gif credits: @peachyspaceslvt

Tuesday, October 19

The late-night air feels crisp during the height of fall. Summer had faded away along with the memories of weekend trips with Peter dancing around in your mind. It had become easier to fall asleep while waiting by your windowsill for your masked hero, but never flawless. You look out of your window to see the gleaming lights of the city reflect back into your eyes. “Every light is another story, another life”, you think to yourself. Trying to distract yourself until Peter comes home is not easy, considering your eyes are threatening to close. You’re dozing off when you hear the groaning of the metal from the fire escape. Your eyes snap open at the familiar sound.

His gloved hand reaches for his dirty mask, the familiar shit-eating grin on his features, “Good Morning, sweetheart.” He’s being a smartass.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” you retort back. You back up from the window as he lets himself into your shared apartment. Your eyes dance across his familiar figure, and that is when you notice a limp in his step as he walks towards you. Turning on a light to confirm your speculations, your eyes lock onto a scarlet red footprint marking your wood floors. “Peter,” your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, “W-what happened?”

Peter turns, studying his own footprint marking the floors, he chuckles, “Nothing.” Your eyes flick from the mark on the floor back to where he stood, trying to figure out where the blood was coming from. Your gaze locks onto the torn flesh on the left side of his abdomen. Your eyes widen in shock. Rushing towards him, he frowns in defeat.

“This!” You point at his sides, “This is nothing?” You snap.

“It’s fine,” his voice comes out flat as he tries to brush past you.

Trying to reason with him, “In what world is this considered ‘fine’, Peter?” You continue to follow him around the room. Making occasional stops at the kitchen cabinets as you collect supplies to patch him up.

“In my world, this comes with the job! You wouldn’t understand, sweetheart.”

You stop in your tracks, as you digest the words he barked out.

He notices the sudden shift in your demeanor and takes a step towards you. You take a step back. “(Y/N), wait-”

“No, it’s fine,” You raise your hand in defeat, “Since I wouldn’t understand, I’ll leave you to it,” Shoving the supplies into his arms as you walk away. The deafening silence was almost too loud for him to bask in. He winces as he hears the bedroom door slam shut. He can’t move, paralyzed where he stands in the dimly lit kitchen. The thoughts of the moments prior swim around in his mind. A sharp stinging pain pulls him out of his transfixed state. He groans out of annoyance, along with his wound, the weight of his own words ignite a new pain in his chest.

In their dimly lit bedroom, your glimmering eyes reflect the same city lights you were distracting yourself with not even an hour prior. You’re thinking of the moments that led up to this pointless argument. Thinking back if the dispute was even worth it. Your mind is swallowed by the never-ending spiral of your own thoughts when a faint knock at the door pulls you from the abyss that is your mind. You rise from the comfort of the mattress albeit still smelling like last night's events.

Opening the door, you’re met with a pale-faced Peter, coated in a sheen layer of sweat. He’s leaning against the doorframe, clearly doubling in pain. He’s still wearing that stupid smirk, the same one he wore earlier. His eyes are half-open, lidded in exhaustion. Muttering a repeated ‘I’m sorry’ before his knees buckle and his broad frame collapses straight into your arms dropping the supplies at your feet.

Your knees wobble as the weight of your neighborhood Spider-Man nearly crushes you as you lug his unconscious frame towards your bed. Laying him on his back she reels away to assess the situation. Fuck…His suit’s still on. Trying to peel down his suit while he’s passed out is not an easy task. The suit sticking to his damp skin due to the dirt and sweat caked on from his outing earlier that night making it harder than needed.

You managed to get the suit lower than the injury still bleeding at his side. Quickly you stand, making your way to the abandoned items on the floor. Running them back to Peter as quickly as possible, your hands shake as you drop and sort the things on the bed beside him. You pour the rubbing alcohol onto a washcloth and carefully begin cleaning the perimeter of his wound. His body jolts under your working hands and a small hiss of pain is heard from his lips. His breath comes out as shallow gasps as you continue to work. You look up at him and his mouth is moving, but you can’t hear anything. Your gaze falls back onto the task at hand without hesitation, not knowing that Peter has been mumbling faint apologies this entire time.

There is more movement coming from him as you continue to work, catching your attention. “(Y/N), I’m sorry.”

Yet your hands don’t falter at the words, too zoned in on the task at hand. “We’ll talk about it later, just let me help you,” You whisper. The only noise gracing your ears are the sounds of his shallow breaths and the hammer of your own heart in your ears.

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean to snap I just-”

Tears begin to form on your lash line, “Peter please,” You beg, “Just let me help you right now.” You glance up at the man through your lashes, He frowns, but he continues to let you work as you finish cleaning the outside of the injury. You grab the small bottle of antibacterial salve, “It’s going to feel cold.”

Getting a small amount of the paste on your hand you slowly begin to rub it across the laceration. “Fuck,” He groans out of discomfort. You continue to work the remedy around the skin before grabbing the gauze and medical wrap.

You sniff and clear your throat before asking him, “C-can you sit up a little?” He slowly sits up and his muscles tense under your hands. After laying the gauze, you begin to wrap his abdomen. As you finish your work, that’s when you realize how close you two are.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look up at him, finding his gaze already melting into yours. Both eyes not threatening to stray from one another, but actually doing the opposite. His gaze softened as a form of an unspoken apology.

--author's note: what were last night's events??? what are tonight's events???? don't forget to like, reblog, and comment!!! love you bye.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #andrew garfield peter parker #college au #hurt/comfort #sfw #marvel #angst #light angst #gn reader #tasm!peter oneshot #oneshot #reader insert #sassy peter #first fic

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

Loved your angst works sm... Can i request Diluc/Ayato/Ningguang x gn reader where reader is d worded already

thank youu angst is always so fun (but painful) to write 😭 this prompt was so good i loved doing it sm, hope you enjoy

༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

Content: angst, reader death, established relationship

ft. Diluc, Ayato, Ningguang

DILUC

For a moment, he could only kneel by your body in denial. Despite his pyro vision, a freezing sensation gripped his chest - seizing it in an icy grasp, although not as cold as the morbid embrace he held you in.

Your patchy, frayed messenger bag was still slung loosely over your limp shoulders, its contents spilling out. Carefully packaged food sitting in the pools of your blood. The lunchbox still bore your crimson-stained fingerprints, as though the last thing you thought of was delivering a meal to your lover.

“I told you not to go after me…” Diluc’s eyes squeezed shut as that terrifying, overwhelming cold thawed into searing anger.

“I told you, it was dangerous.” A trembling hand brushed your hair out of your face, delicately tracing your features - still fixed so prettily, even without the life that coloured them.

He only kept his hand gently braced against your cool skin, desperately trying to ignore the redness blooming in your chest, the sticky feeling webbed between his fingers. The scarlet hue seemed to engulf him, flame transforming into the most twisted form of anger - a guttural scream bordering on a sob left his lips, red and chapped with how hard he’d bitten them to stifle his previous cries.

Red was a complicated colour. It was the love you’d given him, a love you’d never have run out of. The pleasant warmth, the heavy infatuation, the fiery passion Diluc had felt for you. It was the colour of blood, which cutely tinted your cheeks red whenever he leaned into you. Red was also the colour of blinding anger, dark crimson and bitter in nature.

Red was all Diluc saw as he threw himself into slaughtering and infiltrating the Fatui following your passing. As if the rivers of blood he spilt could make up for the blood that no longer ran through your veins, as if the pain he inflicted could measure up to the pain he felt. Perhaps, this too was a form of coping. Busying himself in such matters rarely left him alone with his thoughts - thoughts that inevitably wandered to you.

He’d visit your grave whenever possible, sitting there for hours on end. He’d declined to have you buried behind the Mondstadt cathedral, instead opting for you to lay near the shaded grapevines of the winery. You’d always adored that place, remarking on its fairytale-like scenery. Diluc could only hope you were happy with resting there forever, eternally engulfed in the warmth of benevolent sunshine. Maybe, if things had gone differently, he’d be running with you through those vines and lawns - laughing beneath the cloudless sky. Although, he was simply grateful that he could still lay with you in the shade. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel your caress.

AYATO

The Commissioner lived in a political web. Sinewy tendrils of sticky silk stretching from person to person, forming an intricate lattice of relations and lies. Like a spider, he'd learned how to navigate those thin iridescent paths - knowing where to step, and how to weave it to his will. Countless others had become entangled in his traps, hopelessly ensnared.

But you'd gotten caught in his web, too. How cruel it was, that he could only remain neutral, that he could only school his expression into one of controlled stoicism. He couldn't even hold you in his arms as he wished, forced to stand back and watch as the crowd of people in the courtyard hushed.

You lay on the tiled ground, eyes glazed over.

"How did this happen?" Ayato was shocked at the coolness of his tone. His hands dug into fists, concealed by his long sleeves. The early morning sun peeked tepidly over the gated estate, as though even it was scared to show its face.

"We are unsure, my lord. They were found here in the morning, it appears to be an assassin sent by a political rival."

"Find them at once. Everyone is dismissed from the courtyard."

"Yes, my lord."

In the quiet of dawn, your lover was finally alone. As he sank to his knees by your side, he was no longer the Commissioner, nor was he the head of the Kamisato clan. At that moment, he was simply Ayato. And he felt rather like a small child - pressing his hands to your cold face in an almost juvenile hope that you'd smile for him again.

"I'm sorry... for ever meeting you." Ayato held your hand, eyes brimming with unshed tears. If only you didn't know him, then you wouldn't have gotten caught in the crossfire. If you hadn't been stuck in his web, you'd still be alive.

Ayato hated himself, for being so selfish. Selfish for daring to bring you into his life, selfish for basking in your love - only to be the cause of your premature demise.

In those minutes, he was weak and vulnerable. Out of public view, Ayato could let his tears fall freely. He hadn't been there for you, even in your last moments. When you'd given him unimaginable happiness, what had he given you...? For a Commissioner who seemed to have everything, he realised it was never enough, or at least not for you.

Following your death, Ayato would drown himself in work again. For a while, he sought revenge in the futile hope that it would honour you - but in his heart, he knew he only wanted it in the name of selfish repentance. He'd never truly move on, finding time in his busy schedule to visit you whenever possible.

How lovely it would be, to be unchained from his own web? Ayato wanted nothing more than to be freed from the burden of responsibility - perhaps then, he could lay down beside you and finally rest for a while.

NINGGUANG

Surprisingly, there was a very big difference between a lovers' oath and a lover's oath. The position of one apostrophe could change the meaning entirely. The former was made and upheld by two or more partners, whereas the latter was kept by only one.

The oath Ningguang had made with you to stay by each other’s side forever had turned from a lovers’ oath into a lover’s oath, with her being the lone lover seated by your side, holding your limp hand. Although you wouldn’t be able to stay with her, she’d still treasure you - even if it was in her memories.

Your death wasn’t sudden, or unexpected. You’d been severely ill for some time, and Ningguang had known you were slipping away. The Tianquan had devoted all the time she could into caring for you, sparing no expense when it came to finding a cure. But even Baizhu couldn’t prevent the inevitable.

You lay in the bed, eyes closed peacefully - making you look as though you were merely slumbering. A faint smile was etched into your face, as if you’d had a pleasant dream. Ningguang smiled bitterly, barely registering the wetness of tears falling down her cheeks. If you were dreaming, then she could only hope that she was part of it.

Like a tangent, you and Ningguang had crossed paths, only for those lines to stretch away from each other once more. Although you had continuously insisted that the mere fact that you’d met her was a miracle, Ningguang couldn’t help the emptiness that came with your absence. Your warmth was gone, your voice no longer echoed around the Jade Chamber. Ningguang would never smile at your victorious expression after she let you win a game of Go, and there would be no more peaceful afternoons sharing stories over tea.

Ningguang was very busy, but she’d set aside her schedule to mourn. Her grief was not sharp and intense, only numb and gradual. It came in the unremarkable hours of the evening, when she’d turn her head to show you something and realise you weren’t there. It’d be in the emptiness of her desk, lacking the little trinkets you’d put there. It’d come, uninvited and unanticipated, when Ningguang’s fingers subconsciously reached out for a hand that wasn’t there.

She’d often sit by your graveside in quiet contemplation, simply feeling the time pass and watching the skies darken. Lotuses were beautiful flowers, born from mud. In a way, their existence was quite poetic - symbolising hope for a better existence despite humble beginnings. Ningguang herself had begun in a hopeless place, although she believed the metaphor described you better. Amidst the folly of Liyue Harbour, you were the lotus bloom. Perhaps, you were simply too good for this world.

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

fic req for ben reilly x gn reader where reader's luv language is gift giving and it SHOWS (spoiling him <3)

GEGHIVURBVOIRBI YES ANYTHING FOR MY BOY 🫶🫶🫶

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

ben reilly x reader with a gift giving love language

"good morning, mr. reilly." you greeted him as you smiled at him, looking at his hunched over figure by one of the columns. "oh, hey... sorry, you caught me at such a harrowing time..." he muttered as he looked over at you with half-lidded eyes, trying to play it cool around you. you gave him a slight look of worry as you walked over to him. "oh, is it not a good time for me to give you your daily fix of my brownies, mr. reilly?" you asked him in a gentle voice. at the mention of his daily fix of your homemade brownies, his eyes widened and he jolted upright.

"oh, yes please--i mean... s-sure, i guess. but brownies don't fill in that deep, black void in my heart." he says as he poses dramatically, running a hand through his hair as he darts his gaze towards you, who was stifling a laugh at how silly he seemed. "well, it'll certainly fill up the 'deep, black void' of your stomach, mr. reilly." you said with a grin as you handed ben the intricately wrapped and designed bag of brownies you made for him.

ben's eyes sparkled for a bit when he gazed at the beautiful wrapping, but he tried his hardest to keep himself composed and brooding. "i... suppose they are good for that, thank you." he said as he tried to hide the blush on his face as you giggled and nodded. "i know they are, you always beam about how lovely they taste. i love it when you say that about my baking... you're my number one taste tester, mr. reilly, i don't know what i'd do without you!" you exclaimed, which effectively pierced ben's heart with an arrow as he looked at you with a small flustered smile on his face.

"i am? i-i mean i am." he said as he cleared his throat and pretended to be nonchalant about this, when internally, he was so giddy at your praise. "you sure are. oh, and, i was also... also wanting to give you this." you said as you pulled out from your bag a crocheted scarlet teddy bear with a light blue ripped hoodie that uncannily resembled him. "it's my teddy ben, i made him, and... i kinda thought of you while i was making him." you said with a sheepish smile as ben gasped silently at the sight of the teddy bear.

"he's... he's perfect." ben said with a few tears of joy in his eyes. you felt flustered at his admiration towards the bear and handed it to him. "take good care of him, give him all the hugs you have to give, remind him he's doing well and is the coolest scarlet spider bear i know." you said with a grin as ben pat the small teddy ben with such love and gentleness in his touch. "but... what about me?" ben asked with big puppy dogs eyes and a quivering lower lip. "aren't i... the best scarlet spider you know?" he asked you with a soft voice as you pat his head and chuckled. "ben, you are the best spider person i know." you said with a beaming grin, which sent ben over the edge and hugged you tightly.

"th-thank you..." he said as you hugged him back. "of... of course." you replied, wishing he gave some warning before he lunged forward to wrap you in his arms, but you didn't hate it--the best spider person you knew deserved all the hugs you can give anyway.

#ben reilly #ben reilly x reader #ben reilly x you #ben reilly x y/n #ben reilly fluff #atsv #atsv ben reilly #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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ichorai · 2 years

Text

no plan ; peter parker.

track four of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; peter parker x gn!reader

synopsis ; it was the small, spontaneous moments with you, peter realized, that made all of this worth it.

words ; 1.7k

themes ; fluff, established relationship au

warnings / includes ; mild cursing, dancing in thunderstorms, peter being lovesick </3

main masterlist.

The thundering rain whispered tales of tranquility as the midnight sky rumbled, grey clouds littering across the horizon. You watched the city from the window of your apartment, wrapped in a thin fleece blanket and a mug of steaming tea in hand. You toyed with a piece of frayed fabric, humming absent-mindedly.

After taking a sip from the still-too-hot tea, you settled into a chair, tucking your knees up to your chest. A book was cracked open with one hand, and you began reading, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips.

It was only a chapter later when your eyes started to droop. Perhaps it was the warmth of the sweet tea lingering on your tongue, or the waning light of the vanilla-scented candle on your desk, or the calming sound of thunder echoing across your room that lulled you into such a state of drowsiness.

Needless to say, you were abruptly ripped away from the enticing prospect of slumber when you heard three rapid, successive knocks. Initially, your sleep-addled mind had presumed the sound was coming from your front door, but you quickly realized that it was most probably the sopping wet man in red and blue spandex hanging upside down outside your window.

Your eyebrows inched higher up your forehead in part surprise, part exasperation.

Leave it to Peter to show up at your apartment in the middle of a thunderstorm.

He tilted his head at you, rapping the glass another three times when you made no move to let him in. You snapped out of your reverie, rushing forward to push your window open, pulling him in with a grimace.

“Ugh, Peter,” you bemoaned, wrinkling your nose at his dripping form. “What are you doing here? I don’t want you swinging around in the rain, it’s—”

Your words trailed off when your boyfriend ripped his mask off his head, hair incredibly mussed and cheeks flushed scarlet from the snapping cold of the rain. He remained silent, hands clutching your hips and pulling you closer to him. He smelled of faint petrichor and toothpaste—which wasn’t entirely a surprise because you could see a bit of dried toothpaste on his jaw.

Another complaint was just on the tip of your tongue, but it was quickly forgotten when Peter dipped forward, his lips melding over yours. You froze against him for just a millisecond before caving, one hand resting on his chest and the other snaking upwards to curl over the damp tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck. His nose lodged against yours ever so gently as he kissed you, mumbling something incoherent against your lips before smiling into you.

“What was that?” you asked, pulling back slightly to lick at your thumb and wipe away the toothpaste on his jaw.

“Nothing, nothing,” Peter softly said, pressing cold kisses along the side of your neck. “You know, between work and being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, it feels like I barely ever get to see you. I was just saying I missed you, was all.”

“Is that right?” came your reply, fondness seeping through your words. “Could’ve given me a call before dangling outside my window. What if I was busy or something?”

He ran his nose down the column of your throat as you leaned against your desk, allowing him to shadow over you. “I would’ve waited for you.”

His frigid fingertips crawled beneath your shirt to rest against your warm stomach, and you hissed at the sudden sensation, lightly swatting at his bicep. “Peter, you’re freezing! And you’re getting my desk wet!”

The way he looked at you made your stomach coil.

“Well, you better warm me up, then,” he quipped, a suggestive lilt to his tone.

You supplied him with a roll of your eyes and a couple kisses littered over his lips, cheeks, and nose, before gently pushing him away from your desk towards the bed. The mattress groaned in protest beneath both of your weights, but it went ignored when he tugged you closer, biting your skin and breathing you in.

“Are you up for a little swing around?” he asked, practically preening from your touch when you started rubbing your fingertips over his scalp, occasionally pausing to gently pull at the roots of his dark hair.

“What kind of swinging?” you said, arching a brow. “Because I’m not going out in this weather, Peter—”

“Come on!” He jutted out his bottom lip in an overexaggerated pout. “It’ll be like those cheesy romance movies—but instead of dancing in the rain, we’ll be dangling off of skyscrapers!”

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “Nothing about that seems romantic at all.” After another second, you leaned forward to press a soft kiss over his sulky lips. “Fine. But if either one of us catches a cold, I’m spoiling the ending of every movie we’re watching together.”

“You wouldn’t!” Peter gasped with faux-offense, before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You’re evil.”

The two of you dissolved into a bout of laughter, and he swiftly motioned for you to hold on to him. You stuck out your tongue playfully, but wrapped your arms over his neck anyways. With that, he fumbled to pull his mask back over his head and clambered out the windowsill.

The rain felt much harsher than it looked. The drops struck your skin like small pebbles, and the wind whistled wolfishly into your ears. You clung onto Peter even tighter as he shot out the web fluid and swung the both of you away from your cozy apartment, into the heart of the city.

“Oh my GOD! PETER!” you just about screamed your lungs raw when he pretended to drop you mid-air, before zipping down half a second later to scoop you back up. He was laughing so hard that you could hear him over the raucous thunder.

Eventually, he deposited you onto the rooftop of another apartment complex just a couple blocks away from yours. There were rows of potted plants along the edges, along with sodden coils of fairy lights that were most probably broken by now. You shivered, the cold biting a chill down your spine, but you relished the droplets of water landing on your skin, smiling when a gust of wind sent you straight into Peter’s arms.

It seemed he wasn’t lying when he said he had wanted it to be like the cheesy romance movies—he grasped your hands in his and slowly twirled you around, slowly swaying to a song that neither of you could hear.

“This feels so weird,” you said once he pressed his chest along your back, nosing your cheek fondly. “We look insane, Peter.”

“I know,” your boyfriend replied with a chortle, before spinning you around again and kissing you once more. “But sometimes weird is nice.”

You hummed your agreement, snaking your arms over his neck and leaning into him.

The two of you danced (or, awkwardly shuffled around) for the next ten minutes or so before the rain started to thin out. You wiped the rainwater off your face with a grin, then did the same to Peter with the dripping sleeve of your sweater.

Offering you his hand to swing back home, you graciously took the extended limb and held on for dear life as he threw the both of you off the building.

Instead of sliding back into your window, the two of you opted to dance around on your building’s rooftop, scuffing the damp gravel with your shoes. He carefully observed the stars, the late-night drivers, the way the moon danced within your searching eyes.

Peter felt like he had swallowed a jar full of honey—his throat grew thick and hesitant. So he was grateful when you sat down, legs dangling off the edge. He followed your lead, sweetly kissing the side of your temple.

No words were exchanged. None really needed to be.

The two of you watched as the sun began to rise hours later, and your eyelids were drooped to no return. Your head had found its way to his shoulder, breathing evened to a steady rhythm.

The sun bled the sky a soft peach, followed by clementine and tangerine hues.

“Come on, baby,” he said, suppressing a large yawn behind his mask. “Let’s get you into bed.”

As carefully as he could, he shifted so that he could hold you in one arm as he climbed down the walls of the building, dropping onto the black gratings of the fire exit’s staircase and crawling to your window. He took great care as he slipped in, making sure you didn’t hit your head on the sill.

Dutifully, he set you down onto your bed and rid you of your damp clothes, doing so with a fond smile permanently etched across his mouth.

How’d he get so lucky with you?

He found a shirt in your drawers that used to belong to him just a week ago, but he didn’t mind. Peter rather liked the thought of you wearing his clothes.

You drowsily cracked an eye open as he pushed your head through the shirt hole, kissing your cheek and crooning something that you didn’t quite catch.

He motioned back to the window, and you just barely registered that he was saying goodbye.

“No,” you muttered, reaching out to limply make a grab for his wrist. “Stay here, Peter. Please?”

Your boyfriend didn’t even hesitate before splitting into a bright beam, yanking his own spidersuit off to slip beneath your warm blankets. He found it amusing that you had little plushies of your favorite Star Wars characters littered amongst your pillows—Darth Vader’s soft lightsaber was poking the side of his head.

“You’re cold,” he whispered into your wet hair as he sidled himself against you.

“And whose fault is that?” you lazily droned back, lacking any bite.

Peter mustered a tired laugh, littering slow, saccharine kisses down your neck and jaw. “I love you.”

It was silent for a second, and Peter was nearly offended that you hadn’t said it back, before he realized that you had already fallen asleep in his arms.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x reader #marvel fanfiction #peter parker series #peter parker angst #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker ff #tasm!peter parker #marvel fluff #peter parker drabbles #peter parker imagines

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fun-k-board · 8 months

Text

I want him.

GIVE. ME. REQUESTS (⁠┛⁠✧⁠Д⁠✧⁠)⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

ALSO FOR HIM.

#ben reilly #scarlet spider #spiderman #spider man #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #ultimate spider man #ultimate spiderman #ben reilly x reader #ben reilly x male reader #ben reilly x gn reader #atsv x reader #atsv x male reader #atsv x gn reader #atsv x fem reader #ben reilly x fem reader

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rasparagus · 2 years

Text

scream!

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader

summary: you take a buff guy to a haunted house. he is suddenly not so buff. fluff, halloween themed, whiney cheol

warnings: idk, fake blood? this is all very tame

word count: 1.1k, look at me writing something over 1k wow

request: hii ro , this is my first request ever, but like seungcheol n gn!reader at a haunted hotel/house type event??? - @strawberri-uyu

a/n:more notes at the end but just wanna say thank you nico for the request xoxo hope you like it

every year, halloween is a holiday that you must celebrate to the fullest. you dedicate unreasonable amounts of time and care to the plastic spiders skewed about your apartment and jack-o-lanterns full of the best candy left outside your door all week for the kids in the building. you’ve marked your calendar with all the parties you’ve been invited to, and the four different costumes you’ve prepared are hung neatly and safely in your closet waiting to be shown off.

this time last year, you and seungcheol were newly dating, so you’d spent most of the holiday festivities during october with your friends, only meeting him and his absurdly large friend group at a bar halloween night. since then, you’ve had the chance to wrap him up in your numerous halloween plans, the first of which is a haunted house. from the time seungcheol picks you up until you’re waiting in line, it’s hard to contain your excitement.

“you’re really excited for someone who’s gonna be running out the exit door in a few minutes,” seungcheol tease.

“excuse me? sorry, cheol, but you’re literally so easily scared. i’m a pro. halloween is, like, my thing.”

“ok, yeah, maybe i am a little bit of a chicken,” he takes care to emphasize the way he says ‘little.’ “all i’m saying is i bet you won’t last the whole thing without freaking out.”

“put your money up, then,” you challenge, giving him a smirk. he nods as a bites his lip and pushes a stray hair from his face. you swear you can see his chest puff out and his chin get a little higher. you do the same in an attempt to show your brazen confidence.

when you start walking through the house, you think it’s mid-tier at best. the spider webs look like elementary art projects, the blood on the walls are too scarlet to even feel real, and you swear you can hear some of the actors talking about their next break in the room over. oh but seungcheol? you’d think he was transported right onto elm street. his normally broad shoulders have narrowed themselves and he’s hunched down a good three inches shorter than his normal height. despite the obvious fear in his body, he’s still giddy. he’s smiling so hard you can see his gums, and every time you look over to observe his face, his eyes are glimmering.

“are you actually scared already?” you ask him. “we’ve barely even started.”

“what do you mean,” he whines and leans a little into your side. “it’s kinda creepy, admit it.”

you hum mockingly in response, walking further down the halls. it isn’t until you’re fully enveloped in darkness that your heart starts to beat a little faster and suddenly seungcheol’s embrace starts to feel a lot more comforting. he shoots you an i told you so, but the two of you keep moving nonetheless.

as you approach the last room of the house, your confidence is through the roof. your posture has straightened, your face is decorated with a wide smile, and you’ve even taken time to admire the creepy 17th century paintings—rather than merely looking straight ahead for the nearest door.

when your attention focuses away from the spookily ornate walls, you realize you’re walking past a guy writhing on the floor. you’re not sure what he’s supposed to be exactly. a zombie? a patient of sorts? all you know is he’s crawling around with blood on his face. you decide the best course of action is to ignore him, so you do. you direct seungcheol to walk a little off to the left in order to avoid the actor. as you do so the actor’s hand shoots out at your ankle with needle-like precision. as soon as his fingertips reach your skin, your heart leaps and your amygdala is in full force. for the first time in the night, you let out an oscar-worthy scream that shocks you just as much as everyone else in your vicinity. your knees give out briefly and seungcheol pulls you up immediately. your brain is so filled with fear sirens that you actually miss the way his thick arms feel as he lifts you to your feet. you don’t, however, miss the way he starts laughing hysterically as your misery. with one hand on your chest and the other squeezing the life out of seungcheol’s arm, you hobble to the exit, which is thankfully very close.

as soon as you see the door you lunge toward it, bringing a still-laughing seungcheol flying along with you. not even ten seconds after you’ve exited, seungcheol is clicking his tongue and smugly looking toward the night sky.

now it’s your turn to whine. “save it, cheol.” you peel yourself away from his side to save a sliver of dignity.

“and somehow i was the one labelled a chicken. i think you literally left bruises on me!” he lifts up his sleeve to show off the nail-shaped crescents you left on his arm. “look! look!” he repeats as he contorts his face in the most pained pout he can muster.

“you don’t understand. i was literally attacked in there!” you defend, barely containing your own laughter.

“no, no. don’t try to explain yourself; the damage is done.” you pout and he giggles, slinging his arm around your shoulders. “that’s what i’m here for anyway. big, strong cheol to save the day.” he flexes his free arm.

“let’s not forget how scared you were in there.” you begin to mock his whines and squeals from earlier in the night.

“okay, okay. how about we both agree to let each other live this down and just take that bet money and grab a milkshake, yeah?” you can’t help letting a lovesick, jolly chuckle out from your chest as nod your head and seungcheol leans in to kiss your cheek, sealing the deal.

feel free to reblog, comment, and send in asks :)

a/n part 2 blah blah: thanks for reading muah. i tried to make this as seungcheol-y as possible (characterization-wise) and I’m not sure how successful it was. pls let me know. but also if your criticism is mean don’t let me know bc u will never see me again and that is actually a very real promise lmao. just…if something in the fic is off let me know nicely pls. also guys…the ending is not my best work i’m sorry hahaha i just wanted to wrap this up and get it out before i procrastinated too hard and halloween was here. also i have insane cramps today. and legend has it reblogging my fics makes the cramps go away….

#caratwritersclub #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fics #seungcheol fic #seungcheol imagines #seventeen imagines #ro's.fics #mutuals #nico #scoups x reader #scoups fluff

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lonelysucker7 · 5 months

Text

Strangers on a Train

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader!!!! Might be even the first one lol.

Word count: 4.6k

Reader is a bit insecure but still shown to have confidence in themselves. Tried making this as neutral as possible and let me know if I need to make any adjustments or corrections! And tell me what else to add in the tags as I am so unsure! This is not edited by anyone. Reader is between 20-30.

Warnings: Profanity (for those who don’t tolerate it), mentions of violence, angst

Anywho enjoy!

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

You lived alone.

Practically an adult now, not needing anyone to worry about you. At least that’s how you felt trying not to doubt your new independent life. Your parents suggested one of them could live with you temporarily until you felt truly ready.

Did they not trust you enough?

Trying to ease their worries by saying how you would be fine and how your job helped keep you financially stable, was more than enough to take the hint you didn’t need them.

And yet… the little kid inside you berated you for being so stubborn and perhaps wrong at your choice. You practically dismissed what may have been more than a helping hand. Or something. And not only because you were confident finding your way around purely by instinct but the fact you alone moved far away from home— landing yourself in Houston, Texas.

Why out of all places, you’ll never understand.

Maybe because like most popular states in the United States of good ol’ America, Texas was politically wild. Always something new coming up in controversial and culturally relevant ways. It applied the same to Houston. It was grand. It was sophisticated and complicated. It was intimidating. You’ve only been there once in your life to visit a relative and somehow that experience never left you. It stayed.

It was perfect for you, your siblings said. You were complicated enough already, why not move to a place that met people of your type? Most nights as you stared at the popcorn patted ceiling, you mulled on their words with a dumb grin on on your face. A new form of excitement you began to secretly crave outside your typical hometown awaited in Houston. Outside of your own comfort zone being a ‘neighbor next door.’

In school, many of your fellow peers and teachers saw your potential leaving and pursue anything that outweighed them career wise. The big bucks waited for you. For others, they might have envied you to your grave as you gained immense approval that they could not. In your chair as spoken approval words filled the air, the sharp stares of fellow students stabbed around your body.

What a goody two shoes… what a liar… you weren’t better than anyone.

I’m sorry, leave me alone, you thought painfully to yourself. Your nails forcefully digging a little on your thighs. Yet you smiled all the way through.

Through a series of obstacles that included breaking up with childhood friends reducing to one trusted, a close call with drugs, off and on flirting with peers you thought had something going on but never resulted in anything, and maybe a couple drinks that you sneaked in your system…you graduated high school with average grades and made your way to college. You left everyone behind. And you felt nothing but pure numbness that eventually emotions caught up to you three days later. Not that you let anyone know.

College was the first time you felt your parents had trusted you with the most faith they had in their children. It was far away from where you lived, breathing new air and feeling the change of atmosphere as you walked around campus. Occasionally you called your parents and siblings to check up on you and them in return. College gave you a taste of what independence was, some form of responsibility that only you felt could navigate yourself through the ups and downs.

And it surprisingly tired you. But it was okay, you assured yourself. Somehow you’ll make it just fine.

You always did.

…………..……………………………………………………………

BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEPPPP— SLAM!

6:00 A.M.

The alarm had abruptly woke you up with a start. That horrible sound of the typical ‘beeps’ that only grew louder by the second if you ignored it until it finally wakes up your ignorant ass. You slammed it with a hand, a low grumble emitting from your lips as you flexed your palm from the stinging pain. Must you live in such a way? Sure. You could’ve used your phone instead, whereas provided you with elegant ringtones not needing to stress you and make your morning hell.

But no. You’d only feel too relaxed, feeding more pleasure to sleep than waking you up to fullfill another uneventful but still lively day.

Another day in Houston, your mind mumbled to itself. This wasn’t college anymore. Now you were a full time working adult.

So you woke up, turning your body on your back as your eyes scanned the room. Surprisingly unlike back at home, the sunshine here arrived early. Light peaked through the white satin curtains and filled the bedroom with a happy glow of orange hues. You took in the soft noise of a fan running in the background to keep you fresh in the night. After all the temperatures here weren’t merciful to your body.

Your eyes squinted a bit moving another direction of the room, taking in the sight of your desk becoming more untidy. Pens, paper, a couple of thumbtacks, and paper clips spread across the surface calling to be cleaned up. You frowned a little from the sight. You weren’t messy most of the time. You had to do something about it later. Eventually you set your sights on a calendar from across the room. A big red circle marked in about a week from today, black bold letters scattered over the number as if there was much enthusiasm to give but you clearly knew what it was.

Your birthday! A small half smile crossed your lips as the thought settled in. Obviously you would get phone calls from your family in the next upcoming days so it won’t be too hard to go forget.

Okay that’s it. A small giddy feeling bubbled in your chest and you felt it was enough to start your day. You squirmed a bit on the bed, stretching your stiff muscles from your arms and legs (even getting an ankle spasm scare hah), and sat up. From the heavy warm cotton blanket you were comfortable underneath, your body departed with a goodbye as you got off the bed.

………………………………………………………………………….

6:15 A.M.

You pulled down your boxes of cereals from the cabinet trying to debate which one was better, eventually sticking with the colorful “Lucky Charms”. Shuffling your way to the living room, you grabbed a chair and dragged it to you sitting down with the cool bowl in hand.

As you ate comfortably, your hand reached for the remote of the T.V and flipped through the channels. Various channels displaying morning cartoons, advertisements for useless things, and then…

BREAKING NEWS: THE SCARLET SPIDER DOES IT AGAIN!

Your eyes widened a little as you watched the hero of Houston swing down in front of what must have been a shootout and (you couldn’t help but laugh) watch him grab a couple civilians from the scruff of their shirts and toss them out of the way. Live coverage from earlier you figured as the background barely showed any sunlight. Seemed that the activity happened near by the Houston Zoo.

It was comical the way he did his work. Munching on your breakfast you observed how flexible and fast he was, noting the red and black suit hardly become untouched by the flying bullets. The camera ducked down behind injured cars, capturing the action in jagged movements and you heard a breathless reporter talking to the station.

“We’ve obviously seen Scarlet fight before, but this— this absolutely boggles your brain. I mean just look at those fists, and those — oh my god, did you see that?! That guy just sliced a finger off!”

The cereal in your mouth almost spat out as you jumped seeing the Scarlet Spider whip his head around to face the camera and jumped from a lengthy distance and landed in front of the car they hid. The cameraman let out a strained yelp as he clutched the camera, daring to raise it up… to his figure.

Shit, you had enough fans in your home but seeing him in his suit and muscles practically stretched out from his work absolutely made you sweat. The red glare of his lenses reflected back the image of the camera and his fists were clenched seriously by his sides. A smug smile and dumb giggling got you choking on your cereal, even more so when the hero grabbed the reporter and the cameraman in the air.

With all that strength, you could imagine it wasn’t a problem. The camera panned down at the Scarlet Spider; him shaking just the minimal. Heavy breaths sounding hot and stuffy from his mask were heard through the camera as the hero finally spoke

“THE F——…?! What, doesn��t this scream to you ‘Save your a—es?’ Stop recording and get yourselves out of here! Move it!”

His ragged breathy words sent chills to your spine. He seethed it with so much intensity that it was harsh, it was intimidating… maybe even a bit sexy. You swallowed a spoonful of those bastard little marshmallows, making a face as you felt them enter a wrong tube.

More popping noises of guns in the background could be heard, and the Scarlet Spider dropped both men on the ground as he returned with a growl to his work. The cameraman and his fellow reporter somehow managed to escape the scene unharmed, and unsurprisingly they laughed the whole situation off.

“Wow, that was… quite the experience! Better write that part in my resume, huh Mark? Not that it matters…”

Your sights still drifted to meet the cameraman’s focus from a now safer distance still catching the action happening. The Scarlet Spider grabbed a gun out of a mobs hand and flipped it to punch him with the butt of it, then grabbed another man and slammed him into a wall.

You noticed the time and it was almost 6:30. Sighing as you left the table, you quickly washed your dish without much to think and placed it aside. As you moved to the bathroom, the T.V in the background still exclaimed the success of The Scarlet Spider and tried to get a word from him. Of course, nothing.

In the shower, you reminisce the Scarlet Spider and his unusual style of being a hero. You didn’t know if it was normal, but it was something that you found yourself thinking about most of the time.

Earlier when you meant by how comical he worked, you meant to say how strangely funny the Scarlet Spider worked with fists and not the webs he had on him. Unlike Spider-Man in New York, you noted silently how it seemed that the Scarlet Spider intentionally brought himself to face the danger. Made contact directly with the person, stepped in and pushed away whatever morals he may have (or not at all) and went down with it in a brutal way.

Didn’t seem he’d shy away from a bloodbath. Rather he welcomed it. He was different. You were aware of the supernatural forces that Houston encountered now and then and his webbing seemed to have only been useful then. For now, with the normal civilian and criminal, fists were his only friend.

Warm water poured on your back, slid down to your feet as you pondered on a single thought.

Who was he?

…………………………………………………………………………

7:15 A.M

Once after a rather lengthy shower, you changed into your work clothes and kept your eyes on the clock. Your work required you to travel by commuting on a train so it was necessary to arrive sharp on time. One thing you learned arriving in Houston were people, elderly and youth fought for a seat. No one liked standing just to sway from the movement of the train whenever it stuttered to a stop. It was just painfully awkward.

You chuckled at a memory that resurfaced from your dense brain. On the day of your first ride, you had a job interview and as you reviewed the paperwork in your hand, the train stopped and caused the papers to fall out of your hands. You were one of the unlucky ones standing that day. You remembered how you had to get on your knees and mumbling apologies that fell on deaf ears just to get your papers back in your hands. Even more so you felt embarrassed as one stranger grabbed a full fist of them and shoved them on you.

You didn’t catch who it was, but you faintly remembered scars on their hands and you raised your head to see who it was. And no one with scars in their hands seemed to be in sight. Maybe they left abruptly as soon as the train stopped.

But despite the wrinkles on the paper and leaving you mad all day, you were thankful they were all there. And thankful to the stranger who bothered to help when no one else could…

………………………………………………………………………….

Making sure you had everything in your worn out duffle bag, from your lunch, extra pencils, and some other miscellaneous item, and a last minute check of your face by the mirror, you hurried out of your apartment.

You were greeted by the warm morning sunshine glaring down at you, and you responded to it with a little smile. For a second you fumbled with the keys as you locked the door and then quickly moved down the brittle metal stairs, feeling the wind blowing your still showered head.

Some of the neighbors that stood outside their lawns mowing the grass greeted you and you automatically greeted back, quickly picking up more speed on your footing to avoid conversation. They were all very friendly and who had noticed you new and fresh to the neighborhood. But even so you couldn’t help but notice a couple of them stare at you with a feeling of uncomfortable interest. For now as they didn’t say or do anything out of line, you were safe.

You crossed the streets with a little jog as the pedestrian light turned white with the little person, eyeing the cars almost with a suspicion never knowing if they suddenly moved an inch of their car. You made it safely, continuing to jog to the station just about 5 minutes left from where you were.

The morning was still early, but Houston jumbled and rumbled with life. You could hear the distant drilling of concrete from a construction site, the vendors preparing their carts with a sizzle of their grills, and kids goofing past you on their way to school. Today seemed to be a good one, and you clenched your duffle bag close to you with the faith on set.

7:45 A.M. and finally you arrived on time at the station. Out of breath you leaned on a post to calm down your racing heart and gulped cool air to your lungs. You ignored the people next to you staring at you oddly and took your time breathing (maybe even exaggerating just for your own amusement.) As if breathing wasn’t normal, good god.

But you pulled out your wallet, lining up behind a couple people as they stood in front of a machine that gave them their ticket depending on the train they were to aboard.

The METROrail was a system you had difficulty understanding at first, figuring out the routes and time through trial and error. It took a while but overtime you got into routine and it became familiar to you. You were young, but old enough to remember something that big made you proud. You could have bought a pass sure, but there were METRO police officers who usually got on board the train and checked either way if you truly got on. No one could be sure.

But you were going to take your usual. “The Red Line” as the station coined it was a more popular route that took everyone to the main destinations in the important parts of Houston tourist attraction. Hence the morning train being full of people. The train passed by districts, medical centers, museums, etc with ease.

In fact a museum, you worked in one to anyone’s shock. To be more precise the Museum of Fine Arts as a tour guide to youth and anyone who cared.

As soon as you got your ticket in hand and waited by the sideline, you flipped your wrist to check the time on your watch.

8:00 A.M. Where was that—ah.

At last the train arrived in all its glory, breaks making that familiar soft screech on the pavement. The doors opened with a swift movement with the cool air of a running AC inside. You realized how suddenly the weather outside must have gotten hot already, the sun now burning on the back of your body.

You waited a few moments, politely letting a group of ladies with children and a man in a wheelchair get on first. Eventually it was your turn, getting on with ticket in hand and small stepping a bit behind people. Once on board your first instinct was to find a seat. And what do you know.

A seat.

You sat your bum immediately down, a silent cheer of happiness as you completed the first part of your morning with no trouble. Well your face showed a smile and a hint of smugness as you eyed those standing. Even better your seat was right close to the exit. You let yourself relax on the seat, the chill of the AC cooling you.

And then you were off.

………………………………………………………………………….

Whenever you boarded the light rail train, you kept to yourself. You liked talking, but most of your conversations seemed to end abruptly or fade once the other person drifted off. You once tried engaging in a conversation with a man next to you asking for helpful survival tips when you were new to Houston, but he waved a hand saying a mere

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling it today. Bother someone else okay?”

And you did. But the same thing happened, you might as well you quit trying and figure it out yourself. Sometimes you went back to that thought: If any of your parents lived with you, would things be simpler? Maybe. That way they’d immediately get their answers from connections and some sort of extroverted communication to anyone. They were good at that sort of thing.

You sighed, brushing that thought away. Now you were bored.

For fun you did one of the few: checked your phone to read the latest pointless celebrity gossip, the weather, politics, your messages, just adult stuff. Or you observed the people who rode the train with you, different or new. You weren’t afraid to think you had favorites. Of course you did.

There was a elderly woman in her mid 60’s who smiled to herself as she read an absurdly erotic novel with the typical hot, young, hair shoulder length blonde cowboy on the cover carrying a pretty woman in his strong muscles. Oh and shirtless too, how can you forget. The woman was a regular, often waving at you occasionally as she saw you but never engaged in conversation. Sometimes you picked up a heavy scent of vanilla? Jasmine? Well she reminded you of your mom somehow.

Then there was a wannabe DJ, a young man in his early 20’s sitting in between two men with newspapers in hand, as he jammed his head to a tune in his headphones. You often saw him chatting out loud as he bothered a stranger next to him about the plans of becoming a musician and tried showing off his set. And you felt bad as the rest on the train argued with him to silence his instrument. But you admired his determination.

And finally… him.

He sat alone in a corner, a heavy serious expression on his face as he snoozed. A rather buffed guy in his late 20’s you assumed. His arms were crossed, stretching the material of his black sweater in small wrinkles and you wondered what had him so bothered. Or was he like that already?

You stared at him a little more, watching his sleeping figure lean onto the wall, his gloved hand coming up to scratch his stubble alongside his jaw. You don’t remember if he was there the first time you rode the train but if he was you did feel somewhat upset never to notice him.

A man with shaved growing brown hair, you thought he rocked in it so well unlike most. You could tell he was very tired, noticing dark circles forming around his eyes. Perhaps he took the train home, maybe working at night as he was always here hours before you. Sometimes he didn’t ride at all. For someone so young, he seemed to have seen worse days. His face changed every time you saw him. Either he was covered in dried up blood near his lip, a swollen bruise under his left eye, or a bunch of unicorn themed bandages stuck unevenly on his face. What did stay the same were a few peppered scars across his face. You felt yourself start smiling.

He’s really handsome.

You shifted in your seat as your brain whispered that confession, even glancing at him to see if he may have read your mind. As if. But his injuries left you concerned all the time, the urge to ask him if he was okay stayed on your tongue. Did he not have anyone to tell him anything at home? A family? A…significant other? Nope, better not start getting there. Your thoughts moved on trying to take in another thing from him. Standing out to you as amusing was something in his expression as he slept.

He frowned in his sleep. Almost pouting, as his bottom lip jutted out a little and his dark thick eyebrows knitted together. Not many people frowned from your knowledge, so you’d always ask yourself what he was thinking. And he gave you the vibe that he was intimidating. The clothes he usually wore weren’t, just a simple black leather jacket or sweater, a plain t-shirt of any color underneath and blue weathered out jeans with work boots. His hands were covered in leathered gloves, and you didn’t piece together a reason. It was summertime, the worst time to wear gloves at all. Unless it was for a job? He did look like he worked hard for a living. Yet the opinion didn’t stick the same for others. Most of the time the people standing stared at him with unease and maintained a distance away from him. Like if he were some sort of thug.

He just slept peacefully. And you liked that.

You wondered if he knew this was common for him. To be seen in some sort of inferior way. You shook your head, knowing you were assuming way too much.

Never once have you made a move to talk with him, unsure if he’ll take it in a friendly way. You always wanted to, sometimes lingering your stare on his sleeping form way too much for the sake of moving. The questions always burning with curiosity. Butterflies always formed in your stomach whenever you rode the train, taking a seat near or far from him. You were always daydreaming what would have happened you were lucky enough to sit next to him. However they weren’t good ones. The what-if’s filled your mind

What if he doesn’t like me already?

What if he gets annoyed that I talked to him first?

What if I’m the reason he stops riding this train?

The thoughts were loud in your head, making you clutch your bag with a nervous swallow. And suddenly the weight of stupidity fell on you.

You weren’t anyone to anyone here on this train. Much less to him. You didn’t know each other. You didn’t understand why it mattered to you.

You were both strangers on this train.

Traveling to a destination that drops you off without much of a beat.

DING!

Your thoughts were broken when the train stopped. Was it your stop already? Your head turned upwards towards the little sign on the doorway that indicated the stop. And the robotic voice of the announcement made itself clear.

No… it wasn’t yours. It was his.

Both your eyes met as he finally awoke and briefly seemed to take in your presence from across the cart. You felt yourself freeze and unable to look away, blood rushing from your neck to your ears. Your heart thrummed excitedly and yet terrified against your chest. He just simply blinked and the corner of his lip made a funny jump pulling back. You couldn’t tell what that meant but his deep brown eyes seemed to tell another story.

Like they said, “Fuck off.”

He reached down his seat, pulling out a backpack of sorts and slung it over his shoulder. There was another thing that always impressed you when he stood.

It was his height.

Good grief… He practically towered everyone here. What was he? 6’2? 6’4? Whatever he did for a job must have been easy with a height like that. No doubt it made you feel small. The only con there was for him unfortunately the ceiling of the train itself. He needed to duck his head just by an inch to get out. You weren’t sure what the average height for a person in Houston but whatever it was certainly did not meet his standards.

He stood up from his seat, moving towards the exit that happened to be next to you.

Oh no.

To your silent panic, the door was being stalled by the man from the wheelchair, a train assistant putting down the accessible ramp for him. That wasn’t a problem, no it was okay. Just the fact he was now lingering next to you as he waited to exit, your knees almost touching his leg.

You lowered your eyes to your duffel bag on your lap, playing mindlessly with the pins of popular bands you loved. You could feel his stares looking down at your head, and you didn’t want to look up. Oh my god why did this have to happen…?

But eventually the group of people who were waiting for the whole process to finish began to move. His legs disappeared from your sight in front of you, now moving to the exit.

The doors closed, and now your stop was on its way. You didn’t want to look back. But you did. You looked behind you from out the window, and as the train moved, saw the back of his figure walking away from the station. Head down with his legs producing smooth strides as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Even his hips swayed a little.

Huh. He had some sass to his walk.

You returned to your original position in your seat, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you held. Was it really that scary? Hell yeah it was.

Some impression you made there. Must have been a pain for both of you, but much more for him. Your thoughts kept drifting back to his eyes. They held so much intensity you could tell they judged you in some way, silently looking for a reason to even bother looking at you at all.

Was it personal? Did he actually seem to show some interest in you or was it nothing? Whatever it was, you chose not to assume immediately. He just seemed like he had a bad day. That’s all…

Time passed by so quickly, you arrived to your stop in no time. The Museum District. And off the train went as you left the station. From there you kept grounding a simple reminder:

Stop overthinking, overreacting, you are a damn adult! That’s kid stuff!

You grind your teeth, as you climbed the steps to the Museum and opened the door to enter.

But one thing was clear. One thing you finally understood from this whole thing of complicated absurdity. It wasn’t even hard. You just simply refused to accept it.

You entered the locker room, placed your bag inside and pulled out your ID card. Closing the locker door you made your way outside the room to start your day. As you exit, you swung the door closed with a rough slam to it.

Admit it will you?

You sighed.

You had a crush on this stranger.

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

11/18/23

Hey… thanks for reading this :)

I don’t know if I’ll put out another chapter, but we’ll see okay? Bye.

Edit: Chapter 2 is up

—-LonelySucker7

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