#I was literally less than .2 miles away

[roylustang]

Apologies to the person who’s yard I puked in I tried to save it for the government funded public park but unfortunately I don’t really decide these things

[musical-chick-13]

Once again: the so-called "General Fandom History," in terms of which things get held up as Iconic™ or Well-Done™ or Worth Analyzing™ has disproportionately focused on (cis, abled) white men. Some of us would like to not have everything be focused on this one demographic and would, in fact, love to not constantly hear--implicitly or explicitly--how stories about people like us are inherently less interesting or less worthy of telling.

"Remember your history," WE KNOW THE HISTORY. AND WE WANT TO MOVE ON.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room.  He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

 “Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector. 

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler. 

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

 Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2 sneakpeak

[valentine-writes]

hii!! i was wondering if you could write headcanons for like the main four spider-kids (miles, gwen, pavitr and hobie) with a reader who like smacks people when they laugh really hard? preferably w/ a reader thats a spider-person but its up to you! :3

aggressive affection!

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, dude used once in a gender neutral way, mentions of bruising and minor injuries (but nothing crazy), spider-person reader, reader forgetting that being a spider-person makes them stronger,,, um. (°ー°〃) oops!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

author's note: YES I CAN YES I CAN!! this prompt iz so funny AUWWUDH I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!!! つ﹏⊂ also super excited 2 get to write more of them becuz AWUDGWAAHWGHWAGUAGH I LOVE THESE CHARACTERZ SMM,,, also excuse me if there's more repetition or typos than usual,,, im eepy ( つ᷄ ‸･ )

GWEN STACY headcanons

▸ the first one to fall victim to your little habit. she doesn't mind in the slightest, mainly because she's generally pretty welcome to friendly touches- even if it is slightly more aggressive than she had expected. frankly, you could've literally bitten her and she probably would've reacted the same.

she's a little awkward about it at first, pausing mid laughter as you deliver playful hits to her shoulder and bicep. she playfully shoves you away at first, like, "haha– what– what are you doing–" but quickly warms up to it

▸ here's the thing though. she 100% will do it back. if you're both joking around and losing it over something, you end up hitting each other through laughter. and it'll INTENSIFY. at some points, everyone's wondering if you two are actually beefing or not ur not. itz the way u show affection 2 one another,,, in the strangest manner

when you're assigned on missions with her, you usually end up chatting– and then you find something hilarious to giggle abt and everything goes off the rails

y'all will return to HQ bruised asf like "nah man the anomaly didn't even touch us."

jessica and miguel DEF pick up the fact y'all goof off and beat each other up before even locating the anomaly HWJEJNDNE

unfortunately– gwen is slowly paired less with you on missions becuz of this. they can't have you distracting one another a girl can never have fun fr </3

nothing that some good behaviour can't fix! just try not to give each other a complete smackdown while on duty and you'll be paired together again in no time! hopefully...

▸ both you and gwen forget that being spider-people involves super strength. and though you're both used to taking a blow or two, it stands plain and obvious that the two of you can get carried away. gwen especially. she's just a little rough sometimes– not like she means to be.

sometimes, the dull ache from the bruises she left leave you wondering if you're both a little too funny for your own good. at least she makes sure to take care of it and hold back,, when she can.

when it's your turn to get carried away, she sees your eyes widen as you splutter a million apologies to her. but every time you deliver one hit too hard, she insists it never hurts much as you think.

"dude, it's okay. you can chill out." gwen reassures. "besides, i'm built tougher than that."

she flashes a grin at you, and it's almost convincing. like she didn't even feel a thing. you know better though– gwen definitely has days where she's more sore than she'd like to be because of you. not like she'd ever admit. she likes the random play fights between the two of you.

though, you will admit that the amount of trips to the infirmary in search of ice packs is getting just the teeniest bit absurd. people are starting to ask questions at HQ-- which is fine. the frozen bag of peas gwen offers to you for your injuries works just as good as any ice pack ...it's been sitting in the bottom of her freezer for God Knows How Long but you don't need to know that

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ you see how this guy interacts with people???

hobie's used to friendly touches, and initiates physical contact without overthinking it. that little shoulder shake he does w/ miles makes me smile everytime i heart hobie. ALSO AAUWHEHWH LEBRON AND DWAYNE'S HANDSHAKE BEING HOBIE'S AND PAV'S?? I ADORE.

you really think something as little as a few friendly punches and hits bothers hobie "forehead-kissing-the-homies-goodnight" brown??? /lh + /hj but man platonic physical affection hobie. like. hear me on this one.

▸ he's 100% cool with it– actually initiated it before you did. nothing crazy, a light smack on your back or arm as he laughed with

eventually, while joking around with you, realized you had the same habit

you end up hitting each other quite a bit– but he's not as accidentally aggressive as gwen is. laughing with hobie won't get you hospitalized, he's cognizant enough with his strength to know how much to hold back.

▸ then again, there are times where you get carried away. hobie's quick to shake it off, not feeling the effect of the hit until later– if you notice and apologize, he'll just shake his head and shrug

"nah, nah– it's fine." he insists, chuckling a bit as he rubs the spot where you smacked him. "there's been worse."

and yes, objectively, you know that's true– but you both fight villains in your everyday life. of course there's going to be worse than just a hit too hard. he won't accept an ice pack– but will joke that you could just kiss it better instead

that earns a groan from you, smacking him again in the arm for good measure as he snickers

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ doesn't hate it!! not against it!!! find it surprising at first. he didn't expect a playful punch to his arm in response to his little joke, but watching as you giggled uncontrollably, hitting him lightly– he decided that he didn't mind too much

he knows you don't mean any harm, so it's cool with him! he's rolling with the punches literally every time you two are losing it

▸ if you land a smack on him that ends up being a little too hard, he'll definitely try to play it off awkwardly, rubbing it and nervously laughing when you ask if he's okay

"oh sh–" you promptly stop, your smile fading as concern floods your face. he winced slightly at your last hit and it was much to obvious to ignore. "you good, miles? i am so sorry–"

"me? yeah, yeah– it's cool!" he replies dismissively, giving you the lightest punch back. miles laughs nervously at your completely unconvinced expression.

"bro. cmon. be real."

"that? hah– nahh. barely felt it." spoilers!!! he felt it

you keep it in mind to dial it back a bit when with miles, because he barely hits back and hates admitting when it actually hurts.

you'll get an occasional "ow–" with a little chuckle, but he refuses to acknowledge that you might be a bit too rough. he jus doesn't wanna hurt feelings man :(

you're his friend who gets a little too carried away sometimes– and that's fine!!! besides, he can't let gwen and hobie have all the fun.

"you holding back on me?" he asks you, noticing your hits have gotten weaker.

"what's it to you?"

"i can handle it. 's fine!! really!" miles says. there's a beat of silence as you stare at him incredulously.

"and you didn't bruise last time?." you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah."

"...say swear."

miles raises his hands, sighing. "ok, look–" HE WANTZ 2 ROUGHHOUSE W/ HIS FRIEND TOO OK (*ﾉε｀*) besides. u and gwen and hobie seem to have so much fun w/ it,,

▸ because of his stubbornness, you oblige, pulling your punches just a little less when having a little laughing fit with him.

as a result, miles develops a habit deflecting your hits while absolutely losing it. gently shoving your hands away as you smack him, both of you doubling over laughter

miles will say sumn he knows you'll find a lil too funny and just,,, *cue continuous hitting and blocking as he predicts literally Every Movement you make* he's literally learned to parry becuz of u HAJWBDKDNEN

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ the type to pretend to beat up his friends while making punching noises when he's bored

he's just lightly tapping u with his knuckles going "pow– pow pow– bam–" under his breath HANWJENDN IM SORRY I FIND THIS FUNNY. i also. do this. (｡･･｡).

and ur like "...uh. ok."

he's def not opposed to it!! when he has the energy, he's all for it!!! pavitr's playfully hitting, shoving you away, gasping for air as the two of you giggle over something that's only really funny to the two of you.

he's pretty energetic most of the time, and it manifests as you "brawl" with each other as you laugh over some stupid joke.

▸ when you hit him a little too hard, most of the time, he doesn't even notice until the aftermath manifests as a bruise or two on his arms– but even then he doesn't care.

however,,, there are occasions where he initiates it, laughing and smacking you– and when you're laughing with him, raising your hand to hit back, he'll gasp dramatically, recoil instantly and get all dramatic about it i'm projecting all the things i do onto pav i bet u cant tell /sarc

pav the minute you decide to try and get him back– bar for bar, word for word:

he's just a little guy,, a little guyy,,, nooo,,, itz also his birthday,, he's a little birthday boy– HWJWBDN SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS

this is a bit that he drags on FOREVERRR like itz the funniest thing in the world

▸ ALL of his hits are a little too hard. he does the fake beat up thing a lot but when you two are roughhousing, you're the one reminding him to chill out through stifled laughs

he'll immediately soften the blows quickly at your request, knowing it's probably best for you to remain as uninjured as possible when not doing mission. can't have your shit rocked before you even face a villain!!! his hits end up somewhere between hobie's and gwen's– an almost perfect middle (*´꒳`*)

almost.

occasionally, he'll literally just... take the hits. not like miles where he's deflecting. he's jus standing there laughing while you smack him. which is a concerning sight for anyone who isn't used to your antics!!!

this happened in hq once and peter b, who happened to be walking by, lowkey thought you were straight up attacking pav

upon hearing the two of you giggling though, he figured that he wasn't witnessing an act of violence and didn't have to step in

[reareaotaku]

No Where 2 Run

Part 1: I Want 2 Watch You Bleed Summary: You have to find a way out, but with Miles' eyes on you constantly, it makes it near impossible Tw/Cw: Being Held Hostage [Practically], Paranoia, slight NSFW/Non-con, More Porno-Magazines mentioned Taglist: @littlebrattsblog [Might make a part 3 where she actually escapes? ]

You had to figure out a way out. You weren't exactly sure how you were going to do it, but you were more determined than ever. There was only problem; Miles. You could feel his eyes on you constantly, like he was waiting for you to make a mistake.

Just as he said, he didn't tell anyone that you tried to leave, especially Mrs. Grose. He probably kept it to himself, because Mrs. Grose would fire you if she knew. Speaking of keeping to himself, that's quite literally the opposite of what he did. Your responsibilities had somehow changed to not only taking care of Flora, but also Miles.

Mrs. Grose was seeing Miles improve while taking an active interest in school and excelling in his studies without causing bodily harm to another student. Probably because he had a new special interest that he inflected his sadistic nature on; You.

Though, you may have just found your escape thanks to Flora. She had mentioned Miles' 18th birthday, which was around the corner, which caused a lightbulb moment. At 18 he'd be considered an adult in the eyes of the law, though, it seemed he already knew what you were thinking.

"You still planning on leaving?"

You didn't respond, but it didn't bug Miles. Instead, you focused on folding clothes.

"You think when I turn 18, you can go to the police or something? Even if you were, what would you say? Besides, who do you think they'd be more... 'inclined' to believe?"

"You think they wouldn't believe me?" You finally respond, grabbing a shirt and folding it tightly.

He smiles, "I didn't say that. Money can make people do... irrational things."

"So you'd bribe them?"

"Extortion sounds better-"

"Extortion is like blackmail-"

"Which is what I'm doing to you." He reaches for a bowl of candy next to him and unwrapping a piece of hard candy. He pops it in his mouth, sucking. "Besides, if you were to leave, where would you go?"

"Anywhere," You offhandly remark, not putting to much aggression into it.

"You know if you stay, you could be happy," He gets up from his seat and walks towards you, though stops a foot away, "You'd never have money problems-"

"But I'd be stuck with you."

"You make that sound like a problem." He was angry and you could sense his aggression rising.

You decided to change the subject, "So, speaking of you turning 18, any plans?"

The mood quickly changed and you could sense the air had less tension.

"No. There's not much I want."

You could feel his gaze on you. Looking you up and down, like a predator watching it's prey, but it's probably how he saw you- prey. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Miles flickers his eyes up to your face, wishing you were looking at him. "Actually there's only one thing I want- from you anyway."

You huff, rolling your eyes, "In your dreams."

"Who's to say dreams can't become reality?"

---

You knew he had the keys somewhere in his room. Thankfully you had found the perfect moment to look when he was outside with Flora teaching her to ride the horses. You pulled out his nightstand only to be met with multiple torn-out porno magazine pages. They were obviously... used, but that wasn't the disgusting part.

The girls in the pages looked like you. Though you decided it was a coincidence... Sure, they had h/l [Hair Length], h/t [Hair Type] h/c hair. And so what if they had s/c skin and e/c eyes. It also didn't help that their bodies looked like yours.

You decided to stop looking at the pages and push past them while making a mental note to wash your hands. Your eyes nearly lit up when you saw metal. You reached for it, but froze when hearing a voice.

"What are you doing?"

You squeezed the keys inbetween your hands, before looking back at Miles. "Nothing. Just cleaning out your drawers."

He looks you up and down, his eyes being drawn to your hands, before looking back at your face, "Clean out my drawers? I don't need them cleaned."

"You need them deep cleaned-"

"I like it the way it is, so you can leave."

"Okay... Yeah." You get up, wipping your clothes, before walking past him.

"Oh, Y/n?"

You turn towards him, "Yeah."

"If you wanted to go through my sex stuff, you could just ask. I'm not ashamed. I'm more than happy to show you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine; Not a good shiver either, though you decide not to respond.

---

It was dark again. So dark you couldn't see a foot in front of you. You decided this time you could leave and you wouldn't stop if you heard him. You rushed down the stairs, trying to stay as quiet as possible, though a part of you didn't care.

You smiled when seeing the car- Though when you put the key in and turned, the car didn't start. You heard a knock on the window, causing you to groan because you already knew who it was. You manually rolled down the window before glaring at the male.

"You think I didn't know you grabbed the keys? Besides, I took out the battery the last time you tried to leave. You should have been smarter than that. Though, I find your efforts cute." He laughs, an evil laugh that just makes you angrier. He leans on the window, "So are you coming in or are you going to try and escape again?"

"You know this isn't the end, right?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

[mossyivy]

Imagine if you finally give into Leon and give him that other baby he’s been nagging at you for…🤭

You’d both announce it to your little girl by surprising her with a shirt that says ‘Big sister!’ Or something like that, and she’s very much start crying as soon as you two tell her what it says and means.

She’d quite literally start sobbing and throwing a tantrum, saying that ‘Daddy’s gonna forget about me!’ ‘Daddy’s gonna love the baby more than me!’ Or ‘The baby’s gonna take daddy from me!’ Sometimes along those lines. You couldn’t help but laugh, reassuring her that this baby didn’t mean that she’d be forgotten or less loved.

As the months flew by, your little girl would definitely fall asleep against your bump, saying it was ‘to listen to her heartbeat.’ Because yes, the two of you are having another little princess.

Leon would come home after a mission, seeing the two of you on the couch, taking a little nap together. Head against your belly, patting your little girls back as she slept. How cute.

- Anon! 🎀

🎀anon you beautiful fuck I love you so much!

(Just for future reference I'll be calling these baby girls Violetta 'Violet' (oldest) and Cecilia (youngest).

Violet's upset hearing the news. Inconsolable at first, even threatens to runaway to her Uncle Chris's house to go live with him, his wife (aunt) and her 3 cousins (2 girls and 1 boy). But then she finds out that since she'll be getting a baby sister they need space in her room for the baby so they end up turning the basement into a giant playroom and suddenly this baby is the greatest thing to happen to her.

Ofc, she'll warm up to the baby. Cuddle up to her mommy when daddy's away, promising him to look after her because she knows how daddy gets when he's away from home and her. She can only imagine what he's thinking leaving her, mommy and a baby in her belly!

Immediately starts trying to take Leon's responsibilities. Even if he's only gone for a week Violet's doing daddy's job. Dishes, taking care of the yard (poorly but at least she tried) watering the plants. You wouldn't let her do any repairs and that upset her but she got over it pretty fast. But you didn't realize how often she actually paid attention to Leon's mannerisms until there was a storm coming while he's away. You call for her in the house. Violet doesn't respond...

You start panicking thinking maybe she went outside and then you open the front door. You see her standing on the porch staring out at the dark clouds. Hands on her hips... just like Leon does when he's thinking.

"'Bout a couple miles out." She has no idea wtf that means, but daddy says it every time so she does. You end up taking a picture of her staring out at the clouds from the front door and send it to your husband captioned 'Come get your child 🙄'

Every night he's gone though you two cuddle and end up sleeping in the big bed while Violet reads her books to the baby. Even watching movies together.

Leon ends up coming home a day early and walks in after dinner to find you and Violet curled up on the couch. Her little head on your belly. Leon just smiles, moving to curl up to you on the open side after giving Violet a kiss on the head. He puts his head on your shoulder and hand on your belly and feels the baby kick against his hand.

He's exhausted but so happy to be home. And he gets to come home to this everytime he leaves...

[writingstoraes]

miles away 🛫

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: believe it or not this is another unattended draft i decided to give some attention so, lmk what u guys think!

about: you and charles are in a long-distance relationship, but not for long!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, carlossainz55, and 452,195 others

yourusername supporting the red team even from miles away, even if i have to wake up at 3 am most of the time ❤️

charles_leclerc I have saved you so many paddock passes...

yourusername à bientôt mon amour :) Will see you soon, my love

lecslove queen of destroyed sleeping schedule 🤭

yourusername that's exactly what i am!

scuderiaferrari We thank you for your support even when you're far from the team, Y/N 🙏

arthurleclerc Charles keeps glancing at the garage like you're there please just fly out here

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, pascale_leclerc, lilymhe, and 531,953 others

yourusername copped some new ferrari and cl16 merch in spirit of race week! wishing you the best from here, charles_leclerc 😘

charles_leclerc J'aimerais que tu sois là, mon supporter numéro un ❤️ Wish you were here, my number one supporter

landonorris Your reunion when????

cl1655cs y/n outdoing it in the ferrari and gf department im afraid

luvermilton the day y/n and charles finally get together in person then the world will achieve peace

tayspop they've been together before! i think they've gotten together twice but for short periods of time cause y/n's work requires her to be in another country so they're in long distance!

hamilecs CUTEST COUPLE

charles_leclerc

liked by alexalbon23, maxverstappen, yourusername, and 1,203,943 others

charles_leclerc More than a year since we last saw each other in person - I miss you more than ever and I love our little traditions that keep me sane 🤍

lestappensz FAVE COUPLE

landonorris Please get together again you guys are actually my parents

sainzchamps i'm just gonna say what everyone's thinking: we need a charles and y/n reunion

yourusername you're just saying this cause the next race is at 2 am here

charles_leclerc I know you'll be watching, you love me too much yourusername afraid so 😣

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 342,294 others

yourusername charles' facetime sagas: pick your fighter 📱 i have so many of these because we never let a day pass by without a call, even if it's only last less than a minute. missing him a little more today.

lecsferrari THE 3RD PIC THANK U QUEEN

landonorris Parents...

charles_leclerc Booking a flight right now ✈️

yourusername not if i beat you to it

carlossainz55 So that's why he went back inside the yacht

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,249,381 others

charles_leclerc Biggest susprise and blessing of today yet: I never have to be away for so long from the love of my life. Glad to have you back, my love ❤️

yourusername still can't believe you didn't believe lando when he said i was waiting at the airport

charles_leclerc He's pranked me about seven times I was just being real 🤷

landonorris MY SECOND PARENTS TOGETHER AGAIN?

yourusername i'm literally just a year older than you

lestappenraces LOVE IS ACTUALLY REAL

livelovelecs wait omg y/n is staying?

charles_leclerc Yeah, not letting her go anytime soon 😊

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 452,149 others

yourusername hardcore cl16 fan finally watching her favorite driver ever race on track in person 🏎️

charles_leclerc Excited to finally have you here, baby

yourusername catch me at the garage then 😘

arthurleclerc Finally! Weepy Charles no more

pierregasly Make sure to drop by the Alpine garage too, Y/N!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lorenzotl, pascale_leclerc, and 763,294 others

yourusername from being miles away to having you next to me, biggest upgrade so far 🤍

carlossainz55 The ants are biting all of us...

landonandos what a view (i'm so jealous)

charles_leclerc Do you have a crush on me, I'm already taken

yourusername yeah i heard your girlfriend is really pretty 🤭

----------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz, @boherahpsody @storminacloud @leclercdream (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist or if i forgot anyone that asked to be tagged, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

notes: aaaa its been some time since i posted something but yeah my classes start in less than 2 weeks so im trying my best to go through all the requests and drafts i have hehe lmk what u guys think!

[tripleyeeet-archive]

IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, MAYBE (2)

SUMMARY: It's always been hard being the sibling of a superhero. Lately though, it feels next to impossible.

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,136

WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent, descriptions of a panic attack/dissociate behaviours, inappropriate use of medication/alcohol consumption.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, first of all, the amount of love I've received from this fic has been insane??? Like, y'all really knocked it out of the park, both here and on AO3 and I'm absolutely astounded? Thank you so much! You guys have literally motivated me so much so hopefully this chapter lives up to the hype of the first? :)

CHAPTER LIST / LAST CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

-

“God, I am never drinking again.” 

You stumble into the living room with your hands against your eyes, palming the sockets roughly. It’s morning, maybe even early afternoon, and already the sun is pushing through the blinds, coating the apartment in enough light that it makes you squint. On the couch Miguel grumbles under the covers as you walk by, pulling the fabric over his head as he readjusts his position, directing himself away. 

You’re surprised to see him there but say nothing, opting to wander into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, noticing a fresh sticky note on the fridge: Call me when you’re up —Pete!

Hm, he must’ve gone over to MJ’s for the night.

Peeling the note away, you continue your trek for hydration, grabbing a glass that you fill and chug down twice before feeling satisfied enough to continue. Or at least, enough to survive considering just how sore you are. From your knees down you can feel the leftover aches from walking home; the many miles you’d managed to travel in your drunken state now heavy on your mind. There are at least one or two blisters on each foot thanks to your poor choice of footwear while the muscles surrounding your shins feel like they might actually be burning through your flesh.  

As you walk back through the living room you try not to groan at the pain, turning your attention to Miguel who’s now reluctantly awake. 

“Morning, grandpa.” 

You walk over and press the sticky note to his forehead, ignoring the way he swears under his breath and looks at you with narrowed eyes. 

“It’s not nice to assault people with sticky notes before they’ve had coffee.”

Shrugging in response, you walk back to your bedroom to grab your phone, listening to the creak of your couch as Miguel shifts out of place. 

It’s weird that he’s still here. After everything that happened last month, you were certain you’d never have to see him again. Being Peter’s boss and not much else, he’d become nothing more than a disdainful memory as time went on. A poor impression from the past that Peter never talked about. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting to hear about him so soon, much less see him, especially without his mask. 

So seeing him here, sitting so nonchalantly on your couch is a bit strange. Off-putting in a way that leaves you emotionally winded as you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your notifications. 

There’s about half a dozen apologies from Peter alone, each variation more extreme than the last. Mixed between there’s a few memes and a picture of him pretending to cry on MJ’s floor with the caption sorry for being the worst brother, which you immediately save for future use. There’s also one from Harry asking you to send him a work email that you ignore and another from Gwen once again asking you to come for brunch. 

You glance at the time, noticing that it’s nearing eleven. She and Harry are probably already at their usual spot, munching away on overpriced, organic eggs and inhaling mimosas. (Something you'd normally enjoy but can’t quite fathom doing thanks to the pain currently rippling through your body.) 

Groaning, you curl further into the bed, feeling your head shift like an ocean wave that sends you flying across the room. In response, you shut your eyes as tight as possible, hoping that if you roll with the movements you’ll get used to them faster. 

Immunity through the power of will and all that. 

“I see you’re still alive.” 

You refuse to open your eyes. You need to focus on getting better —on pushing through the swirling motions that attack your brain because if you don’t you’ll be stuck here all day, helpless and in pain and way too dizzy. No longer will you be a person, but instead a shell. A fragile casing of sensitive flesh stretched over bruising bone that will slowly but surely deteriorate over time. 

“Are you always this dramatic?” 

The urge to argue persists, flowing through you just quick enough that you find yourself opening one eye, noticing his stance. 

He’s standing nonchalantly in the centre of your room; hands placed neatly on his hips. On his face, the tiniest of smirks pokes out of the corner of his mouth, prompting you to lift your head, blinking at what feels like a rare sight.

“Are you always this hostile?”

“Only in the morning.”

“Even towards complete strangers?”

“Especially to strangers.”

“Makes sense why you don’t have many friends.” 

“And how would you know that, stranger?”

He’s got that teasing tone that Harry always has. The one that sounds so condescending that it borders flirtation. Immediately it makes you roll your eyes and direct your attention back to your phone, realizing just how little you want to continue this conversation. You’re too hungover. Too sick and tired to do this whole back-and-forth thing, so instead you call Peter, putting the call on speakerphone with a sigh.

It rings twice before the other end clicks to life, a very joyful and awake Peter greeting the both of you. “Good morning friends, how are we doing on this beautiful morning?”

Almost in unison both of you grumble out a quiet fine that makes Peter laugh, prompting you to look at each other with shared disgust. 

“Are you hungover?”

“What do you think?”

“Gwen called me this morning,” he says, changing the subject. “She wants to go for brunch.”

“That’s nice, but I will not be attending on the account of the fact that I’d rather die.” 

“So dramatic,” Miguel chimes in.

Ignoring him, you place your phone onto the pillow next to you and tighten the covers around your throat.

Your head is still spinning but less so, the waves feeling more like lakeside tides than oceanic swells, leaving you thankful. There’s nothing worse than the spins after a night out. You can handle the stomach aches and even the vomiting but the second you can feel that mental drift you’re a goner. 

“Okay well, MJ and I are going to go if you change your mind. Miguel, you're welcome to come too.”

“No thanks,” he says, unsurprisingly. 

There’s a pause after that. One that lasts a solid five seconds but feels like a lifetime longer thanks to the way Miguel continues to stand there, staring at your pathetic frame tucked haphazardly beneath the covers. 

“You know staring is rude, right?”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, and weird too considering I barely know you.”

“You saying it’s weird for strangers to stare at strangers?” 

“A little, yeah, so knock it off.” 

He gives in, his eyes diverting towards the window before they move to the door, motivating his body to leave the room without another word. Once he’s gone you let out a sigh of relief and listen to his footsteps, hearing the way they move through the living room and into the kitchen. 

It makes you wonder why he’s even still here, taking up space in a home he isn’t really welcome in. You figured it was obvious from the beginning that he was nothing more than an overnight guest. A protective stand-in meant to slip away in the dead of night with no word or note. He was never meant to linger the way he is now and a part of you wonders if he already knows. If instead of picking up and applying said social cues, he’s opting to ignore them for some higher purpose. 

It wouldn’t make much sense but then again, you don’t really know Miguel so maybe he’s just a lingerer. Maybe he’s socially awkward and doesn’t understand that when you’re being mean to him it means you want him to leave your house so you can vomit in peace. 

“I see you guys are getting along.”

“Swimmingly.”

“Did you two have a good night?”

“Yes, oh my god it was amazing!”

“Really?”

You offer a fake laugh that Miguel walks in on, raising his brow in confusion. “No, we had a terrible time. Your boss is mean, Peter.” 

Offended, Miguel opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it, watching the way you smirk beneath the covers, watching his brows knit together.

“How am I mean? I walked you home didn’t I?”

“Sure, begrudgingly.” 

He scoffs, his palms moving to encompass his hips again. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to enjoy walking you home. I’ll remember that next time.”

Next time?

You narrow your eyes and stare directly at him, noticing the way he mirrors your expression. It’s subtle at first, the way the crinkles of his eyes sort of deepen to match the lines across his forehead. His skin is rough —aged looking most likely due to the fact he probably slept terribly— and the bags beneath his eyes are the heaviest you’ve ever seen, even rivalling Peter’s on some of his rougher days. Like you, he looks more like a corpse than a person, his face devoid of anything other than the sickened frustration of having to deal with your attitude.

“I’m gonna be honest if you’re ever running late again, please call someone else.”

It’s obvious you’re talking to Peter but as you speak you continue staring at the man in front of you, glaring at the way his weight shifts beneath your gaze.

You hope he’s uncomfortable. You hope he’s embarrassed or at least feeling a little self-conscious for acting like such a child in a space that he hopefully never feels welcome in. If you were him you’d certainly be.

“Yeah, so, anyway, is that still a no to breakfast or…?”

-

You’re beginning to regret ever wanting to get involved in Peter’s double life. Or at least, its most recent developments. Up until last month, everything was fine. Simple and controlled and not at all hectic like it is now. Back then, everything was smooth sailing when it came to helping. Your only responsibilities being lie to May and make sure the window was always unlocked before you went to bed. Two very mundane tasks you could practically do in your sleep. 

Nowadays, it feels like an endless loop of stress. Kind of like when you were eighteen and just finding out that your brother was a superhero for the first time. Everything is complicated again. The stakes feel higher than ever before knowing the truth that there’s a world out there just like yours, endlessly repeating. That instead of just one Spider-Man there’s probably a million variations doing the same thing Peter’s doing. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you look at everything differently —intensively. With each new person you pass you wonder what their version is like somewhere else. Are they still male or female? Are they younger? Older?

As you walk into brunch alongside Peter and MJ, it’s all you can think about as you stare at Gwen, remembering her counterpart. How she looked so familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. 

You realize now that it’s because she’s your Gwen, but not. A direct copy but a good decade younger. They have the same hair colour and eyes and that little gap between their front teeth and upon seeing her it makes you wearily shift into your seat, putting on your fakest smile. 

She’s already a bit tipsy when you arrive, you can tell. Her eyes are half closed and the grin plastered across her face is hazardously wide. 

“Oh, my god, hi! I’m so glad you came!”

If it weren’t for the table between you she’d be pulling you in for a hug, tightening her grip around your shoulders until the air inside you was gone. You inhale nervously at the thought, wondering if other Gwen would do the same. 

It’s hard to tell what traits transfer over. Considering she’s a spider person in her universe it’s more than likely she’s completely different, right? Perhaps relating more to Peter. It’d make sense that all spider people kind of have the same vibe. Perhaps like your brother, they’re nerdy and into photography and have partners with nicknames that double as their initials. Like him they'd live double lives, trying their best to find the balance between being crime-fighting arachnids and regular civilians with the help of their sisters. 

Or brothers. You figure in other universes you’re probably a guy too. Hell, maybe even in some you're the spider person having to navigate through life with the help of your brother. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Pete grins, pulling out the chair beside you so that MJ can sit down. “Somebody had a bit too much to drink.”

You shoot him a look as he sits at the head of the table, sticking out his tongue for good measure. 

You hope in the universe where you have superpowers you give him a hard time. 

“It’s fine, we overdid it too,” Gwen says, looking at Harry who rolls his eyes and looks at Peter, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. 

“Hope you wore a condom,” you say, at which MJ and Gwen gasp, both of their mouths curling into cheeky grins that you can’t help but share. 

Its always been obvious that the two of them are together, even though neither of them would ever admit it. It’s weird but Gwen says it’s a part of the intrigue, having this unlabeled relationship that she can just ride without the responsibility of making it a bit deal. 

Both you and MJ think it’s because she secretly likes the drama of it all, but knowing how she’d react to such a claim, neither of you says that out loud. 

“Did you make it home okay?” Gwen changes the subject before anyone can even join in, making you sort of sad because you love to tease. 

“Relatively. Threw up on the walk home but that’s New York, baby.” 

“Walk home?” Harry questions.

You freeze, remembering Miguel. He doesn’t exist in this world. At least, not to anyone other than you and Pete and maybe MJ. You’re not entirely sure what he’s told her but you figure she knows in some capacity because he wouldn’t have called you otherwise. 

“I mean drive, sorry, drive home. I’m still hungover.” You try to laugh it off but Harry and Gwen share that look. The familiar one where they think you’re lying but know better than to actually bring it up. It’s the same look they give you sometimes when you’re covering for Peter and you hate it, feeling your chest tighten every time it’s shared right in front of your face. 

It reminds you of how you felt having Miguel around. Something about the way he looks at you every time you talk fills you with that familiar twang of insignificance. Like whatever you say isn’t good enough. 

With your friends you know it’s because you’re insecure about your lying capabilities. With Miguel though, it’s different. Yes, it feels the same physically but emotionally it’s an entirely new set of feelings. Ones that have you second-guessing their origins, remembering the way your stomach would twist each time he’d insult you. Each time he’d look at you with those dark eyes and pouting mouth. 

Thinking about it now, he reminds you very little of Peter. Aside from the moniker of Spider-Man the only similarities (so far) you can confidently say that they share is the art of sarcasm and deflection. The way their voices can become so monotonous at the drop of a hat is unparalleled, even with all the tension, and it’s frustrating. 

It makes you wish you didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. Like Peter and Miguel, you wish you could box it all up in the form of calm words so that nobody even got the chance to look at you the way Harry and Gwen still are. 

Secretly, you wish you were the spider person of this universe. Not because you want to save lives, selfishly. No, you mostly just wish you were stronger like them. Less like yourself and more like your brother who sits at the head of the table holding MJ’s hand with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. 

And not so secretly, you want what he has. You want to be confident and to have people look at you in a way that’s filled with adoration. To have them survey you and conclude that you’re decent rather than picking out your flaws. You want May to look at you with fondness. You want her to be proud of you in the same way she’s proud of Peter and to affirm your belief that you’re doing alright for yourself even without filling her desires for grandkids. 

You want Harry to look at you with respect. To stop looking through you just because you’re Parker’s sister who just so happens to be smart too. You want him to take him as seriously as he takes Gwen without the sex. Without the implication that to be valued, you need to provide him with something worthwhile. 

You want Gwen to appreciate everything you do for her. To stop taking advantage of you at work and in life —to provide you with the comfort of an actual friend. 

You want value, you decide. Whether that’s through the gain of superpowers or not. All you want is a little bit more than you’re given and you wish you could express that as you sit at the table, watching everyone talk and laugh as if you’re not really there.

Beside you, MJ leans into Peter as he talks, resting her chin on her hand in longing silence while the two across the table sit, completely engrossed. You try your best to listen in too, picking up that the story involves his boss over at the Bugle. Something about how his last few pictures of Spider-Man were so good he nearly fell off his chair. 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and pull out your phone, scanning the screen mindlessly, clicking on apps and profiles over and over again until the waitress shows up and asks for your order. You get a mimosa regardless of your hangover and a bagel breakfast sandwich with all the extra fixings, knowing you need it. Then you wait. Wordlessly exhausted, wishing that instead of deciding to tag along you’d stayed at home under the comfort of your covers.

-

Once you step over the threshold of your apartment you let out a sigh of relief and sink into the couch alongside Peter who rubs his face. By now your social battery is running at a negative ten, making your mind fill with nervous thoughts that have you frowning as you curl into yourself, clutching your knees to your chest.

You shouldn’t have gone, you decide then. Regardless of the extended invitation, it was obvious you were only invited because Gwen was drunk and felt bad. That’s usually how it went nowadays. 

“They’re a lot, aren’t they?”

Peter’s always known how much you struggle with people —how you overthink every interaction after it’s happened. It’s how it’s always been and he’s used to it. 

As you nod, you feel his hand against your shoulder, tightening. It’s a gesture of understanding but at the moment it feels like pity so you brush him off, frowning even harder. 

“You okay?”

You aren’t. You’re overstimulated from the amount of interacting you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours. From Harry and Gwen to Miguel and back you haven’t had a break all day and you can feel your mask slipping. Physically, your chest is aching for a breath you can’t quite get, the realization of your interactions pushing you over the edge and all you want to do is scream.

You were such an asshole today. Sure, you’re always kind of mean but this morning specifically felt like a step above the rest with the way you argued with Miguel as if you knew him. As if last night was just another night between you, adding to countless others. You were brash and unwelcoming and rude, and despite how you feel about him sometimes, you still feel pretty shit about it.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.” 

Your tone is stubborn, dripping with an arrogance that has Pete sighing because he knows he can’t do much. When you’re in these moods all he can really do is let you live through your anger —to explore the hate you feel inside in private. It’s how you’ve always done things. So when Peter looks at you with sympathy you can know that’s it. He won’t press the matter further. He’ll just get up and leave and go to MJ’s for the night. Check-in in the morning like he usually does.

As he stands you’re met with feelings of both relief and regret, watching the way he carefully pats your head and steps over your legs. Inside, your stomach drops as he wanders to the doorway, slipping on his shoes and coat without saying a word, knowing that it never solves anything —just makes it all messy. 

Again, like always, you wish you were like him in these instances. Because maybe then you could have a normal relationship that doesn’t rely on boundaries you wish didn’t exist. Instead of pushing everyone away you could sit with them —talk to them. Express instead of repress. Prove to them that the love you want is the love you deserve. 

If you were in any other universe you’re certain you could do it. In this one though? 

You’re too scared. 

-

When you’re alone, it happens, the calm before the storm. 

As the hours move and you lay exhausted on the couch staring at your phone, you find yourself scrolling. Distracting yourself from the inevitable breaking point by watching YouTube video after YouTube video. First, you start with your usual poison, simple documentaries about things like haunted houses or murder cases that remained unsolved. Lazily, you click thumbnail and thumbnail, half absorbing all the names and dates and details as you lie prone, trying not to think about it. 

It takes hours for you to fully accept your emotions and when you do it’s a mess. Now lying in bed, it’s nearing eight and your deep dive on unsolved mysteries has turned into videos discussing the topics of the multiverse. You’re not sure why you decided to delve into all that but regardless, as you do you’re in your head again, clutching a pillow tightly against your cheek as you try to steady your thoughts. 

You bet Miguel’s world has a version of you that’s nicer. One that treats him with respect. They’re probably a spider person too which is why he looks at you with such disdain every time you argue. You’re a lesser version of them —no comparison. They’re better and it drives you insane, thinking that the approval of a man you hardly know is important. 

Aside from Peter, there’s absolutely nothing connecting you. You’re from different worlds both literally and figuratively, so it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

Except that it does, doesn’t it? Deep down, regardless of how well you know one another, this man has managed to find his way inside your skin. You’re not sure when or how or why but somehow he’s always there, lingering at the back of your mind like a memory. Like he’s absent until he’s not —until something reminds you that he exists and that he thinks you’re too inexperienced to understand that he doesn’t like you. 

You figure he doesn’t like you because you’re stubborn. You’re sure there are other reasons but that’s the only one that really jumps out. The way he speaks to you is a direct example of that. Changing subjects often, he doesn’t like when you push his pull. Doesn’t like when you defy his authority or pry. He wants complete and total control and when you’re around he knows he doesn’t have that. You don’t trust him enough to give it.

His version of you probably gives him whatever he wants. Probably spoils him by following him around like some lost fucking puppy. They’re probably older than you —experienced— and have the backbone of an earthworm. 

He probably loves it. 

Shoving your face into your pillow you let out a loud groan, letting the tears well and overflow against the fabric of your pillowcase.

It’s sudden, the storm. Erupting out of nowhere over something that shouldn’t matter. Quickly, there’s a rage that fills inside you, quietly creeping from the depths of your soul in the form of breathless gasps and shaky hands. 

You turn upwards to face the ceiling, the tears coating your eyes in a layer of disarray. You can’t see anything but the blurred beige above you. Everything moves like brushstrokes across the canvas, thick and liquidy and not quite good-looking. It makes you blink in annoyance and throw your forearms over your head, trying to stop the world from letting you see or shake or feel anything other than regret. 

It’s painful, the storm. It feels like a deep wound being opened back up again. All the build-up of scar tissue is there, shoved amongst the perfectly good parts. Usually, they linger there together but as the wound is peeled open by your own hand, you can feel the worst of it start to push. 

As it surfaces, you can feel the catalyst begin to wake. The rate at which the chemicals in your brain begin to increase, pushing you over the edge.

It fucking hurts. 

By now your wound is gaping, ripping at the base of your chest. It’s hard to breathe under all the pressure of the damaged flesh. Under all the memories of a life you once thought was good. Decent 

In another universe, you hope to god you feel just like this. Like the world is caving in and you’re the last survivor. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone —so beside yourself while everyone else so carelessly continues moving. 

It helps calm the storm. Thinking of you —another you. Regardless of if they’re better or worse or completely equal to you, the thought of this feeling extending across the expanse of a place you don’t quite understand fills you with ease.

It closes the hole in your chest —pushes all the tainted flesh back inside for safekeeping. Slowly, it settles into something you can handle again, sewing up the edges that’ll inevitably leave a new scar. 

As you sit up from your bed, brushing past the tears to clear your vision, you feel your breath begin to steady. A slow one-through-five inhale, followed by another one-through-five exhale, each one becoming stronger than the last as you look towards the window, noticing the familiar blue and red spandex standing silently on your fire escape. 

He doesn’t move when you notice him. Doesn’t fly through the air or duck out of sight. Standing there, it’s as if instead of flesh he’s made of stone, unwavering in his attempts to watch you carefully through the window. It’s scary if you’re honest. The way he looks so detached from the world. Even without seeing his face, it’s as if there’s nothing behind the angered design that adorns his features below. His emotions feel completely blank underneath the fabric, making you wonder. 

What’s he thinking about?

As you inch toward the edge of the bed, you see him twitch. It’s subtle. The fingers of his right hand sort of jolt lightly in the air, and it’s over before you can even think about it, so you don’t. Instead choosing to forget as you move towards the window. 

Surprisingly, he still doesn’t move. All he does is breathe, letting the rise and fall of his chest ruin the image of his fixed stance. He’s nervous, like you, you determine. Scared, like you.

It motivates your movements, pushing you through the room until you’re standing in front of the window, reaching for it with shaky hands.

Why hasn’t he left yet?

You push open the window, slowly, watching his body begin to move towards it, his leg pushing through the moment you step away.

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t respond. At first, you assume it’s because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say but then he moves. Lifelessly, he brushes past you and wanders into the living room, forcing you to follow as he drops onto the couch with a groan. 

Seriously, why is he here?

You open your mouth to repeat your previous question but are interrupted by his mask. Almost instantly, it disintegrates before your very eyes, revealing fresh injuries that have you holding your tongue because laying there, he looks like Peter after a rough night. Maybe even worse thanks to the shiner that takes a good portion of his left eye. 

“Do you have any painkillers?” 

You don’t even respond before you leave the room, wandering into your bathroom to grab the usual meds you give Peter. They’re prescription, originally given to you for period cramps, but they do wonders on a battered body.

When you reenter, Miguel’s face is scrunched in pain, struggling to find comfort. Because of this, you practically run to the kitchen, grabbing all the usual items: water, ice packs, scotch, carrying it all in one go. 

“What’s the scotch for?”

You untuck a glass from the crook of your elbow and settle on the floor beside the couch, pouring it halfway to the top before downing it.

“None for me?”

You pour another one. “You’re not meant to take it with pills but Peter always says it makes him sleep better.”

“Okay.” 

You’re no doctor, but you’ve experienced this same formula countless times. If he takes one pill with one full glass of water then drinks the scotch, followed by another water he’ll be out like a light in no time.

“Pill, water, scotch, water,” you instruct, watching him closely as he follows suit, chugging back everything in under a minute.

After it’s done he settles into the couch again, tucking ice packs against his face and chest before glancing your way with a grin. “Stuff’s nice. Goes down good.”

He sounds like he’s been hit by a bus, his voice rubbed raw, scratching your brain in a way that makes you squint as you pour yourself another glass.

“Good cause it cost a pretty penny.” 

“Yeah?”

You nod, opting to sip this one, still feeling the burn of the other radiating throughout your chest. “Ben bought it for me. A graduation present or something.” 

“Wasn’t that ages ago?”

“Your point?”

All he does is grin and close his eyes.

-

TAGGING: @fandxmslxt69 @buckysblondie @leucoratia @avatricu @rexxesgirl @hoe4fiction @erissco @dil3mma @ashjbu @mfrnchsk @sanjisluvbot @deputy-videogamer (if you'd like to be added fill out this form)

[fandxmslxt69]

Here For You

Jake Lockley x f!reader (Steven Grant x f!reader, Marc Spector x f!reader mentioned briefly)

Warnings: Some swearing, negative self talk um...Jake being so <333

A/N: Can y'all tell I'm running out of GIFs to use I need to rebuild my collection. ANYWAY. This is funny because y'all REALLY liked the first soft Jake Lockley (thank you!!) and i literally wrote that one in like 2 hours and this one took a week + editing and I actually don't like it a lot but...here it is? I will probably write fluffy comfort stuff for the other boys + other characters but that will be to come <3 I'm gonna tag a few people who really liked the first one in this but please don't feel obliged to read!! THANK YOU <3

-Clem

Synopsis: You were starting to feel the negativity creep up and take hold of your mind again, but luckily, Jake is always there to make you feel better.

Word count: 1529 (mm.)

Bad days sucked. Everyone had them, but sometimes it really felt like the world was out to get you more than it was there to help. You were in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables as you waited for Jake to get home from work. It felt childish, to feel so out of your skin, but your mind couldn’t stop running through every small awkward thing that happened, or every wrong step you’d taken.

Maybe you should start working out more.

Maybe you should eat less.

Maybe you need to find a better job. 

Maybe you did need to get better clothes.

Maybe you needed to start putting in more effort. 

Maybe you weren’t doing enough, despite feeling so drained from all the work you did. 

Maybe you needed to just do better. 

You shuddered, feeling the icky feeling snake through your body and cover your skin in an uncomfortable layer. You sighed, putting everything down as you dug your palms into the edge of the counter, stretching out and taking a deep breath. 

It’s okay. It’ll go away soon.

You screwed your eyes shut, trying to ease the overwhelming ache in your chest. It grew and took your body captive, settling a heavy weight over your shoulders and on your heart, making your mind feel sluggish. “Cariño?” You heard Jake’s gruff voice before you saw him as his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you steadily and pulling you into his chest. He still had his gloves on and his work jacket, and his voice was laced with concern. “Cariño, are you okay?”

You took a deep breath, leaning your head back as your body melted into Jake. “Mm…yeah,” You mumbled halfheartedly. You hated doing this to him. It was like a broken record. Everything was perfect until one bad day led to all three boys running and crowding over you to make sure you were okay. A day led to a week, and sometimes when you felt really shitty, even more, and it just left them extremely worried and on edge. You always tried, you really did, to keep it at bay and try to keep the bad days away, because you hated seeing them worry and you hated how it always came back no matter how hard you tried, and it made you feel like you just couldn’t be properly happy. It made you feel horrible and guilty for worrying them so much. But bad days always come, no matter how hard you try and of all three, Jake was always the first to catch on. He noticed the way the tension started building, how you’d start sleeping less and isolating yourself. It became clear signs that he tried to catch early, but it slipped sometimes, out of the blue and it constantly made his heart hurt to see you ache so badly.  “Yeah? You sure?” He pressed his lips to the top of your head. “Yeah…I’m sure. Just a little off,” He hummed. “Yeah? Why?” You shrugged, turning around to wrap your arms tightly around him. “Dunno. Bad day I guess,” “Aw, poor bebita,” You could practically hear his mind whirling a million miles an hour trying to run through the past few weeks, to try and maybe catch a problem. You felt horrible, because you had no way of explaining to him that there is no problem, sometimes you just didn’t feel good- but he found that hard to understand. If you were upset, there had to be a reason, right? And he’s going to search for that reason so he can find a way to fix it. 

But when you don’t give him a reason, it makes him feel useless and that makes you feel even shittier. 

“It’s okay!” You tried to reassure him quickly, pulling away to give him a small smile.  “It’s fine, please don’t worry about it. I’m just being a burden again,”  His face quickly changed from a soft pout to a confused look. “What?”  You frowned, detaching yourself from him. “What?”  “The-” He shook his head. “Burden? Who said you were being a burden?” “No one! No one said-it just slipped, bad habit right?” You tried laughing it off, noticing the way he frowned deeper with concern with every passing second. You quickly turned back to making dinner, trying to ignore him and the suddenly awkward conversation. “Amor.” He said firmly. “Hm?” “Look at me,” “I’m cooking dinner, I can’t,” “I’m serious,” “So am I,” 

When he didn’t offer something back, you thought you had won the argument, until you felt his strong arms wrap around you tightly, lifting you and effortlessly placing you on the counter. He reached over and turned off the stove, before turning his attention back to you as he placed himself between your thighs, hands firmly gripping your waist as he searched your face. “Alright princesa, no more avoiding confrontations. What’s up?” “Nothing,” You tried pushing him away, but he wouldn’t budge. You tried wiggling away, but he held you right in place. “Jaaaakeeee,” You whined. “Let me go right this second,” “Absolutely not,” He pouted, his big brown eyes melting into the biggest, saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen a man pull before. “Put those away!” You covered his face with your hands as you looked away. “Mi vida por favor…” He trailed a lazy kiss down your jawline. “Tell me what’s wrong,” You grumbled, feeling the fight dissolve in you. “That’s the thing. Nothing is wrong! Everything is perfect! Job’s going great, money is awesome, life’s going absolutely wonderful and yet for some fucking reason I’m once again feeling like shit, even when everything’s going right!”  He deflated a little, surprised by your outburst. “See! You’re even stunned speechless,” You ran a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “I just- I’m constantly dumping my problems on you and you’re forced to put up with them, even when you have your own issues to deal with. I mean- for fuck’s sake Jake, you just came home from work and you’re probably exhausted and need to rest to go out again later tonight and instead of letting you rest and giving you something to eat I’m sitting here complaining and whining!” He looked at you for a solid minute after your outburst, eyes roaming over your face as he stayed silent. “You really think you’re burdening me?” “I-...” “Don’t you always tell us it’s okay to ask for help?” He shook his head, his hands rubbing your side gently. “Why do you go back on that when it comes to you, hm?” He smiled but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You’re allowed to ask for help, bebita. Especially here,” 

You hummed, kissing him back. “Okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be worrying you so much,” He shook his head. “No more apologising. We’re gonna go sit on the couch and talk, and I’m gonna order food-” “-But-” “No buts,” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “And we’re just gonna chill, okay? Until you feel better,” “I don’t deserve you,” You felt your eyes tear up again, and this time you didn’t bother trying to stop as the tears fell over the edge. You weren’t sure why you were crying. The joy of having him by your side? The feeling of relief, knowing you don’t burden them? The overwhelming sense of love you feel for this precious, devastatingly handsome man?  Probably. “I love you,” “I love you too, and we’re here, I’m here for you, through anything and everything, got it?” You nodded and he kissed you again, before pulling away and smiling softly. “Now. Food?” You laughed, feeling the ache that engulfed your body earlier starting to make room for absolutely unfiltered joy. “Yeah, food sounds good,”

[babiestbubbles]

Across the Spiderverse Agere Beach HCs

I'm so insane about them /pos (I plan/planned on writing a fic, but I've lost motivation so have the ideas instead)

Miles, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie decide to have a fun little beach day, but when Pav gets a bit too excited and Gwen starts to get a bit too motherly... Hobie and Gwen find their hands full with two Spider-kids who can't sit still. While I love Miles and Pavitr being an iconic toddler duo, in reality i think Miles is a toddler and Pav has to be watched 24/7 or you'll turn around to him with a mouthful of sand. Gwen is built like those middle aged white-moms, when it comes to going to the beach She packs a HUGE sun-hat, an entire cooler she makes Hobie carry for her, 2 stuffed tote bags. Literally EVERYTHING. Like, they had to go with a car (Gwen or Hobie drove) bc miss gurl brought like half a house

The children (Miles and Pavitr) are so hyped but when they get there, Gwen makes them each stand in the parking lot and she COATS them in sunscreen. Pav literally looks like he's about to implode from the stickiness, Miles is just mildly inconvenienced by it.

When they acutally find a spot in the sand Pav and Miles ran straight for the water but before they could move 3 feet Gwen was like "ah ah ah. Get back here rn" and made them help her set up a whole ass tent and a set of beach chairs for her and Hobie and stuff

Also, Hobie overpacks/is a mom just as much as Gwen, he's just sutble/silent about it So his tote bag, has like, floaties for pav, a paci/teether, snacks, sippys, bottles he has AN ENTIRE BABYGATE in the car, in case they need to section off a place for pav so he doesn't wander off (Pav can very much swim btw, he can swim possibly the best out of all of them, Hobie's just super overprotective of his baby) [The gate is less for contatining him when he's a Spider on a mission and more when he's reeeeeally little and they don't want him wandering off into the water without supervision

It's also ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY Hobie is just, a first time mom and would rather overprepare than risk being unprepared] Speaking of Pavitr… He's so accidentally mischievous. Like, obviously he's cheeky sometimes, but most times he gets himself into trouble and he has no idea that he's done it

Gwen and Hobie: "Pav, don't go in the water without supervision" nods (10 seconds later, them finding Pav sitting in the shallows) "What did we tell you about going in the water?"

Pav, who doesn't know what 'water' is but wanted to go splashy splashy: O_O

By the time Hobie and Gwen have found pav and brought him back to the their spot in the sand, Miles is running around with a crab in his hands screaming for help and saying he picked it up bc he was curious but is scared it'll "Bite" him if he puts it down

NOW MILES Is the most chaotic toddler ever Gwen was so relieved when she found out Pav was a regressor bc she was like "Thank goodness I have a second caregiver to help me watch Miles at the beach or I think I'd lose him" She turns around for like two seconds and Miles is like half a mile away from her looking for an ice cream truck.

[sweetlittlegingy]

In The Mood For Chaos

"He knew her in a way no one else ever could."

“You corrupted her soul, what else did you expect”

🍒 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Callsign Cherry Masterlist

🍒 Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/N 'Cherry' Bishop, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Y/n 'Cherry' Bishop

🍒 Word Count: 7.3k

🍒 Warnings: Parental death, angst, POW and very sensitive topics, Bradley... idk what he's doing today lol, swearing, breach of trust, loss of friendship (and love...), protective Jake, protective Bob, mourning, a lot of crying, drinking, dark headspace

🍒 A/n: I would like to note that I know how sensitive this topic is and I want to caution anyone that is reading this. I could never know or capture all of the feelings that families go through, and if you have been through this situation or lost anyone while they were in the military, I'm sending you my deepest condolences and am sending you all the love.

🍒 A/n pt 2: I just wrote this in the last five hours and cried a lot. It wasn't supposed to be an angsty story, but we've got multi-layered characters here.

🍒 Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

Your chest heaves as the sweat drips between the swell of your breasts, and the sound of your shoes hitting the packed sand keeps a steady tempo for you to run to. The sound of waves crashing barely reaches your ears, as you push yourself harder. You catch sight of the sun starting to peak up over the horizon, which causes you to check your watch.

4:45

4 miles in 45 minutes wasn’t horrible, but it was nowhere close to your best. You had woken up at 3, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. It was the same reaction every time you came back to San Diego, maybe it was how abruptly your grandparents took you away, maybe it was a visceral reaction that you had no control over, or maybe you were still that broken little girl.

It was most likely the latter, though you don’t allow the thought to float around long in your head. It’s how you had ended up running, any way to get away from the reality of the situation. Quiet literally running away from your problems. 

The bay curves around, low tide with an expanse of sand that led right up to the house you rented. Your eyes cast across the bay and find the small white house, placed perfectly on the beach and close to the base, with a small dock off the back that connects directly to the harbor.

You only let yourself look at it momentarily as the sunrise lights up the expanse of sand, before focusing back on the path in front of you. A harsh breath pushes from your chest as you break out into a sprint, a gasp toeing the line of a cry. Your chest burns and you relish in the pain, anything to take away how your heart hurts.

You reach the pavement of the street that’s a straight stretch to the bungalow, 1 more mile. You had been pacing yourself, but as memories flash across your mind you could care less. You needed, to feel something that was physical pain, to prove you were still breathing. A sharp ache settles in your side, but you can see the front porch from a distance and so you push harder.

A grimace crosses your face as a metallic taste settles in the back of your mouth, and your chest aches, but you can’t stop not when you were so close. Another gasp releases from your chest and causes you to push that final step more.

You don’t make it to the door, the moment your feet touch the grass, you collapse. Your chest heaves in pain and have to spit out the mucus coating your throat. Though the tint of red proves that it was more blood than spit. You roll on your back as your gasps, turn into silent sobs.

Your body aches and screams at you for your reckless behavior, though you settle in the pain. Letting it pull you down and consume you completely. Your therapist had once told you that pushing this hard, was a form of self-harm. You stopped seeing her after that appointment, it wasn’t that you couldn’t come to terms with your trauma. It was the fact that it was the only thing, other than flying, that could clear your mind.

Besides, it wasn’t the worst thing that you could do.

No, you’d gone down that road while in high school. Jake was the only one that knew just how far things had gone. As much as you despised him now, for a long time he was your only reason to keep breathing.

...

You wipe the steam from the mirror, before towel drying out your hair. The sound of a door closing is followed by a knock on the door.

“Hold on Bobby. Your coffee is in the kitchen too.”

You hear a small hum in reply, and you laugh lightly. Bob was never a morning person and in the last two weeks, you had made sure that you had his coffee ready before he got out of bed. It’s not that you liked waking up early, but more so that sleep escaped you regularly.

You grab the oversized tee shirt from the counter, before slipping it on your frame. For going shorts, the old Texas longhorn’s shirt covered enough and it wasn’t as if didn’t Bob hadn’t already seen everything. One of the perks of living with each other for 4 years, it had become such a regular occurrence that it no longer phased either of you. You were quite positive that you could walk around naked, and the only thing Bobby would comment on would be the set of tan lines that adorned your skin over the past two weeks.

You slip out of the bathroom and head toward the kitchen, wanting to make sure that he had indeed found his coffee, but also that he didn’t steal yours. You almost laugh at the sight of his half-naked form leaning over the kitchen table, while keeping his coffee tucked in close.

Though the cup of coffee sitting opposite of him, has you smiling as you slip into the seat across from him. You slip your cup silently waiting for Bobby to at least get half the cup in his system before you try and hold a conversation. You glance at the oven, it was only 6:30 and you didn’t have to be on base until 8 and the drive was only 15 minutes. Your eyes fall back to Bob as an empty cup now sits between the two of you. You snicker as he rakes a hand threw his hair, it causes his baby blues to settle on you.

“It’s Saturday tomorrow, Bobby. Two whole days for you to sleep in.”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t wake me up.” His tone is teasing though your smile falls into a frown.

“I didn’t mean to wake you; it’s just being back here.”

Your words have his sleep-deprived brain clearing and the apology is already sitting at the tip of his tongue. Though you stop him before he has the chance, by giving his hand a small squeeze. His hand settles in yours and gives you a squeeze in return. You had lost so many people throughout your life and couldn’t have been more thankful that you had him.

The pair of you sit in silence, enjoying the quiet morning before the chaos of your everyday life commences. The past two weeks had been relatively calm, other than the sublet jabs that Rooster and Hangman like to throw at you. It was funny, and it only got worse as you stayed slightly ahead of them in all of the exercises. It had gotten to the point that you were just taunting them; dogfights were your favorite. Maverick had switched to having someone from the class be the enemy target and somehow.... by some luck unbeknownst to you, the three of you always ended up in the air together.

The three of you had kept the jabs surface level, nothing digging too deep that would actually cause damage. You weren’t willing to risk losing your place on the detachment or let some feud put anyone else in the squadron at risk.

Your eyes shift back to Bobby as he rises from his chair and takes both of your cups to the sink. His hands settle on your shoulders as he stands behind you and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Cher.”

Your hand reaches up to clasp one of his hands, giving it a squeeze and a small kiss. While Bobby knew everything, it didn’t make actually talking about it any easier.

“Thanks, B.”

The nickname slips from your lips and causes Bob's hands to tighten, as a full laugh falls from his lips. You rarely called him B, and when you did it was used to break the tension in the air. That first night that the pair of you tried to see if you could be anything more, you had made a point that you wouldn’t be moaning Robert or Bob. So, B became the given name, and well... it only landed you two in a fit of laughter. It was your own personal inside joke.

...

Your eyes scan the hanger as you and Bob make your way to your seats, though as your eyes settle on a familiar face a massive grin appears on your lips. Bob had already made it to your seats, and you give his shoulder a gentle squeeze to get his attention from Phoenix.

You nod to the front of the hanger, toward the group of older gentlemen talking before the day starts. His eyes find the dark head of hair that had been missing for the last two weeks and gives you an understanding smile, before pushing your hip forward lightly.

Your boots echo through the hanger, and you can feel the different sets of eyes find your passing figure, though you pay them no mind. You come to a stop just behind the three men, waiting for Maverick to finish his sentence. You see Warlock’s shift to see you and give you a small smile, which makes your own smile grow as their conversation ends.

“Admiral.” Your tone is steady as you say it, and you quickly wipe the smile from your face as he turns.

“Lieutenant.”

His face remains serious as the pair of you stare at one another. You can hear the rest of the pilots behind you quietly talking about the pair of you, though you pay them no mind. Slowly the stern look turns into a full smile, though yours stays in place waiting.

“Hey, kid.”

The nickname makes a full smile break across your lips and for a moment you’re a little girl again. His arms reach out to hug you, though you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and grasping on like you were worried he might slip away.

“Hi, Uncle Beau.”

Your throat catches as you say it and cause Cyclone’s arms to tighten around you before letting go. The both of you pull back and give each other one last smile, before falling back into line. You nod at the other two men who hadn’t moved, each of them giving you a small smile. You give the three of them one last smile, your heart already finding some form of peace over the fact of having your godfather close. 

Your smile falls as you turn and make direct eye contact with Hangman and Rooster, before brushing passed them to go sit with Bobby.

“Lieutenant Bishop,” Cyclone's voice echoes through the hanger and causes you to turn back around. “Come see me later, we’ve got a few things to talk about. One of them being Lieutenant Commander Adams.”

Your eyes widen slightly, the man might have only been your godfather, but he sure took the job of vexing any of your “friends” seriously. You can hear Bob laugh to the side of you and your arm punches out to hit him on the shoulder.

“Of course, Admiral.”

You sink down into the seat next to Bob who is still snickering beside you, “You think it’s about you and Adams in that f-18? What were you doing again?” Your face blanches slightly, though your eyes remain trained on the whiteboard. “Going over how well you could grip the yoke?”

You slowly turn to Bob, who has a cheeky smile taunting you. Your eyes find Payback, Fanboy, and Phoenix who are practically leaning over the back of your and Bob's chairs to hear. Each of them looks at you while trying not to smile, which they are failing phenomenally at.

“Fuck you, Robert.”

Your tone is anything but harsh, and a small chuckle breaks from your chest as you rest back in your chair.

...

Once again you had been chosen to be the enemy target for the dynamic idiot duo, by now you were sure that Maverick was doing it as a way of “therapy” for the three of you. The two of them stop at their own F-18s as you head farther down the tarmac, though Rooster’s voice yelling at you has you turning around to see what it was now that he was bitching at now.

“What do I have to do to get on the Cherry Popping List, Cherry?”

You almost let the words go over your head, though the small snicker at the in pulls you back. The comment and action not only affect you though, as you watch Jake tense up and glare at his wingman. If looks could kill, Rooster would be six feet under.

“Sorry, I’m not one to lower my standards.” A smile crosses your lips that has Rooster standing straighter. “Especially for pilots that can’t get into the Academy on the first go.”

You don’t wait to see his reaction, already knowing that Maverick holding his papers was a sore subject. You’d heard the rumor when the three of you were in the Academy, though hadn’t realized it was true until you heard Maverick and Rooster arguing last week.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to get in the air, as you hear the pair chattering across the coms. You stay low level, just above the hard deck, waiting for them to get restless.

Rooster's voice cuts across the frequency again, “So Hangman, tell me, was she any good? Figure asking from someone with first-hand experience is better than nothing.”

Rooster's laugh echoes across the radio, and for the minute you give them, before you're officially pissed, Jake doesn’t say anything. You glance up and see their pair of F-18s right above you before you pop up. They’re separated just enough, and they have no clue that you’re just under them, soon to be on top.

“You should worry about your own sex life Rooster; I’ve heard quite a few underwhelming reviews.”

The sentence slips off your lips, though before either of them can reply you shoot up through the pair. Sending each of them off to the side in a barrel roll and now it’s your laugh that echoes across the coms.

“What the fuck was that.” Jake’s voice rings out and breaks up the laughing fit you were having due to them both gasping.

“It’s called, I’m about to kick your ass and win 50 bucks from Coyote.” They both go silent trying to figure out what you mean. You knew that the rest of the squad would be listening to the coms, specifically Javy. “Ain’t that right Javy? This will make ten-”

You're cut off before you can finish, “We’ve gotten tone on you six times.”

You roll your eyes at Rooster, as you bring the nose around and find the two of them.

“No, you’re right Rooster. You’ve done such a good job of coming in second, too bad there’s only one winner.”

You go silent after that, paying neither of them any mind. You need to focus and not worry about the birdbrains; you also knew that your silence unnerved them. Just another perk. It doesn’t take long for you to get behind the pair, though it’s Rooster who you have your eyes on.

He had constantly been trying to piss you off. While Jake made comments, dumb snappy comments, Rooster was like a lover scorned and picked at every little thing he could.

He���d almost brought up your dad the other day, after seeing a picture of your father and Cyclone standing side by side on a carrier. Both of them had been deployed and it was one that you personally had tucked away at home.

Though just as the words “Your father” slipped passed Rooster's lips, Hangman had thrown him a glare that silenced the man. For a minute you saw Jake, not Hangman, though the flash of his green eyes to you was quickly covered up and Jake was gone again.

You didn’t know if you could ever forgive either of them, you had never really thought about it until now, with every look that Jake gave you, you questioned yourself. Could you ever risk opening up like that again, giving someone that much power over you.

Sure, Bobby knew everything, though the “power” he had over you was different than Jake did. Jake held a power over you that terrified you, your bond ran deep and though it was broken, you had never been able you get rid of it wholly.

The pair of them split and you immediately follow Rooster, he’s just in front of you and with every second you’re gaining on him. You’d need to get tone soon; Hangman would be circling back around any moment and on your ass.

“Hey, Chicken” Your words cut through the radio before tone rings out alerting everyone. “Your dead.”

You hear Rooster swearing over the coms, though you're too focused on finding Hangman.

“Where’d you go Hangy.” Your voice is condensing and as it slips over your lips, you level out to find him directly in front of you. The pair of you heading directly for the other.

“Hey, Cher” His laugh has you gritting your teeth, though neither of you hit the button to get tone, even though you’re directly in line.

“You really wanna do this?”

“I missed our games, sweetheart.”

Every second brings you closer, and you can hear chatter echoing through the radio from the rest of the dagger squad.

“You should know better than to play this game, Jake.” The name slips out, though you don’t even realize you’ve said it.

“Just break off Cher, easy as that.”

“Then you do it.”

“Y/n Marie Bishop,” Bob's voice cuts through and gains your attention. “break off. Cher, you don’t need to do this.”

You don’t reply and Jake’s right in front of you now. He doesn’t say anything either and you silently wonder if still remembers how the pair of you played it in the Academy before he ruined everything. You’d gotten caught a couple times and had your fair share of ass chewings. Though if there was anything Jake was good at, was sweet talk his way out of anything. Even when a higher-up was threatening to ground you.

There’s a round of voices echoing through the coms, even Rooster freaking out slightly. Though they fall silent to your ears as one voice echoes out.

“Y/n” Your name falls from his lips so gently that it makes your heart ache. The last syllable of your name passes Jake’s lips and you both break hard right, just barely slipping passed the other.

You’re not sure how to feel knowing that Jake had remembered; did it mean anything or was it just a random fact he hadn’t forgotten?

...

Before you know it you're back on the tarmac, slipping your helmet off and tying your flight suit around your waist. The afternoon heat had become unbearable, and your sweat had made your damn shirt cling to you like a second skin.

You see Hangman and Rooster both climbing from their jets, chatting back and forth, though you can’t hear what they’re saying. Hangman catches your eye, though doesn’t say anything. Maybe he would have if the rest of the squadron wasn’t making their way across the tarmac, Bobby leading them as his lethal gaze settles on you, not wavering in the slightest.

You step toward Bobby, as his eyes asses your sweating form. His hands settle on your shoulders, and you give him a tiny smile, knowing that you were about to get your ass chewed.

“You’re, okay?” The question doesn’t surprise you; Bob had always made your health and safety his first priority when it came to ripping you a new one.

“Yes, Bobby. In one piece, and ready for the Floyd ‘I’m disappointed in you’ speech.”

The answer causes him to laugh, before pulling you in for a hug. A quiet whisper of comfort is muttered against your shoulder and has you tightening your hold before pulling away.

By now the rest of the group, as well as Rooster and Hangman had formed around the pair of you. Your eyes move around the group and each of them looks at you in stunned but apprehensive silence.

“Bob might not be ripping into you, but I sure as hell don’t wanna be there for when Cyclone gets ahold of you.” Fanboy’s comment has a smile breaking across your lips, as you pluck your sunglasses from Bob’s shirt pocket. Bobby clicks his teeth before a small chuckle pushes pasted his lips as he shakes his head at you. Your eyes leave Bob and you give the rest of the squad an award-winning smile.

“You would be surprised just how good I can sweet talk someone,” You move towards Fanboy, and pat his chest gently as you pass. “Especially when it comes to my godfather.” The words are thrown over your shoulder, though you keep walking as a round of questions breaks out.

“Seresin, let’s move it.”

Your tone is harsh, though has both you and Hangman questioning when he became Seresin to you again.

...

“What in the hell were the two of you dumbasses pulling out there?”

Cyclone paces behind the desk that both you and Jake stand at attention in front of. Though before you can answer, Jake speaks up.

“It was my idea, sir.” Both yours and Cyclone’s head whip to look at Jake in bewilderment. “I wanted to make a point that this mission was serious, that it is life or death.”

Cyclone hums though his eyes don’t leave your own, “and you thought playing chicken, with government property, was the proper motivation.”

A sharp nod comes from Jake while his eyes remain dialed in on the bookshelf behind Cyclone.

“First of all, even without hearing the audio from the coms, I would always know this was something Lieutenant Bishop orchestrated.” Cyclone’s eye glances at you, though you’re quick to move your center focal point to something behind him.  “Secondly, don’t think that I forgot about the shit you both pulled in the Academy.”

Your eyes follow Cyclone’s gaze to Jake as he mutters that last word. By the way, Jake’s eyes widen slightly and the harsh tone of your godfather, you know that your flight habits are no longer the topic at hand. The silent stare-down between them would be unsettling, if you didn’t know how big of softies, they both were. The clearing of your throat has them snapping out of the daze.

“I’m not grounding you, not when the mission is so close.” A sigh you didn’t realize you were holding leaves your body, you had yet to be grounded in your career, and the thought honestly scared you. The closest you fell to your parents was in the sky. “But I promise you, if either of you pulls that shit again, I’ll ground you the second the mission is finished.”

While you knew that Cyclone was being a hard ass, was because it was his job. On base, he would always be Admiral before Uncle, though the flash of worry in his eyes tells you that it wasn’t his only reason.

“Lieutenant Seresin, you’re dismissed.” Jake glances at you as he leaves though your focus remains forward, silently trying to figure out just how much Cyclone knew about yours and Lieutenant Commander Adams’ agreement. The clicks behind you and the sight of your uncle sighing so heavily does nothing to ease your worrying mind. A nod of the head to the chair directly across from his own causes you to sit.

“What did Adams tell you about the mission?” Your head cocks slightly, this was defiantly not the direction you thought and prepared yourself for.

“Only that Jake and Bradshaw were going to be here.” There you go again, how had he in such a short amount of time, have you back to using his first and last name. You had stopped using them after everything and started only calling him Hangman. He hated when you called him by his callsign, always said it was too impersonal.

Your uncle’s silence paired with the tick in his jaw, causes your chest to tighten. He was never this serious when it was just the two of you, that wasn’t the type of relationship you had. The last time you remember seeing him like this was the day your grandparents took you back to Texas, while you bawled and clutched onto him and your Aunt Julie begging them to change your grandparents’ mind.

“Y/n, Sweetheart, we need to have a talk.” You quietly suck your teeth, and your eyes instantly land on the file Beau sides across his desk. The bright red letters spelling out classified aren’t what catches your attention, it’s the black letter under it, in such blocky letters ‘BISHOP’ glares back at you.

“Honey,” your eyes leave the smile, and the small tremble in your bottom lip, confirms to Cyclone that you have an idea where the conversation is happening. “you were so young when everything happened. I didn’t have the clearance to tell you, even if I wanted to.”

You force a harsh breath through your nose, silently begging for whoever controlled the universe to not break you absolutely with whatever lies with those pages.

“But with you getting placed on this mission, Commander Kazansky, and I both agreed that you should know. That you had a right to know.” 

The words catch in your uncle’s throat and have your eyes flashing to him. You wish that you’d have stayed focused on the file because seeing the eyes of one of the strongest men you know lined with tears makes it all worse. Makes whatever you’re about to read more real.

“What part of the story wasn’t true? What’s it have to do with this mission?” you’re surprised that he can even hear you, with how quietly the words slipped passed your lips.

“We’ve been watching the location, where the Uranium plant is for a long time, honey. It wasn’t a plant back then, it was supposed to be some ragtag militia group that broke off Russia’s military.”

Your hands twist in your lap as you boot intently taps on the floor. You can’t bring yourself to grab the folder, too consumed with the voices bouncing around in your mind. They hadn’t told you much back then, just that it was supposed to be an in-and-out mission. Things went wrong, and they lost him. They’d given you minimal details, you were only seven and you’d never questioned what happened.

Because you knew what happened.

Didn’t you?

“We didn’t have the right intel and it wasn’t until we were right over them, that artillery that rivaled ours at the time, started going off.”

A harsh breath leaves your uncle as he turns and pulls a 5th of whiskey from a bottom drawer. The seal is still intact and the snap of it echoes threw your ears, as your eyes slightly blur in and out of focus. A glass is sat in front of you, though you can’t seem to make a move for it.

“Your dad’s plane went down in a clearing; it was the perfect spot. The safest crash site we could have asked for.”

The shake of your uncle’s hand as he downs the rest of his glass has your gaze, you’d never seen him so unkept. Beau Simpson was the top of the top, the United States Navy’s poster child for god’s sake.

“He was gonna be fine, we’d already called in e-vac.”

The shake of his voice as your eyes refocusing and the red-rimmed eye’s staring back at you aren’t one’s you’d ever seen before. Not in this capacity at least.

“They appeared out of nowhere,” your jaw clenches and it’s surprised your teeth haven’t cracked. “they had him out of his plane, before any of us to circle around and get a shot.”

Your body lurches forward slightly and it feels like all the air had been ripped from your chest and the ringing in your ear only gets louder as your uncle talks.

“We were able to bring him home, the week before your mom passed.”

You hadn’t had a panic attack since you were a teenager, though the way you gasp for breath as the words break from you. “That was three years later.”

How you ended up pacing is beyond you,

“don’–” your hands brace against the back of your chair as you rock back on your heels. “Don’t tell me that they had him for three years.”

“That they held him captive for three years before you could get him.”

Your legs fall out from under you and cause you to harshly crash to the floor. Your breath shutters, as you wrap your arms around your knees. Your eyes fall in and out of a hazy as flashbacks of his funeral filter through your mind. “He was alive for three more years, and you swept it under the rug. They had a funeral...”

Your eyes meet Cyclone’s as he watches you, and it breaks you even more. He was fully prepared for you to hate him. You can hold his gaze, instead, you find the folder that lies on the desk still. Without a second thought, you scramble up for it, you knew that whatever it was going to break you. But you had to know.

Cyclone's hand lands on it at the same time yours does, holding it firmly on the desk.

“Sweetheart, you know now. You don’t need to see; I shouldn’t have even gotten the folder out.”

“I need to. I need to see just exactly what I’m going up against, the reason that I’m going to fly this mission and kill every last one of them.”

Your throat is raw with pain, though the drip of hate that seeps from it echoes even after the words died out.

The folder slides from your uncle’s hold and you grasp it cowering back to the corner of the room settling against the wall. The file just sits in your lap, and your hands shake while they ghost over the top though you make no move to open it. Cyclone doesn’t move from his chair and by the time your fingers pry the file open, you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting in silence.

The top page is just logistics and a few photos of the landscape you’ve studied endlessly over the last two weeks. Even after 23 years much hadn’t changed, sure they had a runway and a couple more buildings now, but you and your father had studied the same location.

Your tears had stopped falling by now, the realization that your mother had only lived long enough to get buried with your dad settles in. She had been so numb and broken, but still holding it together for you. Nights that you cried yourself to sleep, yelling at the universe for taking him from you. And yet she knew.

She knew that he was somewhere, possibly dead, possibly captive...

Death would have been easier, clean-cut. Without the constant wondering.

Without the small piece of hope that you’re, she held until the very end.

The next page has your stomach turning, and your hands shaking as they ghost across the page. Tracing the fuzzy images, and even though your heart aches, you could feel that blank numb feeling settling in with each page you flip. It’s the last page that kills something within you, your body acting on its own accord as it starts to shake.

It was your father

the lacerations lining his back and chest

the caved in eye socket and broken jaw

the burns and carvings spread across every inch of skin

it was your dad

but the once bright blue eyes were dimmed

dead

he was dead

three years of mutilation

23 years later and now you finally know

but even still it didn’t change that he was gone.

And somehow it felt like a piece of you was too.

Your feet push up from the floor, though the shaking in your hands remains. Your foot sets are slow and careful as you place the folder back on your uncle’s desk. Though the last page remains in your hands, slightly crumped from the grip you have on it.

Those first years in Texas were hard, you missed your parents, but you knew they were together at peace. Now, there still together and at peace... but the truth tares into you in a way that their death hadn’t even been able to.

“Y/n, sweetheart?”

You can barely find the strength to lift your eyes, and the sight of heartbreak looking back at you is only worse. Your head shakes, though the words can’t seem to form. You knew that he would want you to talk about it, but you couldn’t. Not with so much more on the line with this mission. You could finish what your father started; you could do one last thing for him. You would let the pain consume you for the next two days, but when Monday came, you’d shut it down.

Your nose sniffles and your eyes ache. You were tired, so emotionally and physically tired. A knock at the door pulls Cyclone’s attention though your eyes stay settled on the folder. You hear the voice and while you would usually have some snip to say to him, you had nothing. The whiskey bottle sets on the edge of the desk and the hand gripping the god-forsaken page reaches out and grasps it. Your hand drifts off the side of the table, you can’t seem to find the strength to carry it and so it just hangs at your side.

You turn to find a silent Rooster staring at you, they had been talking but stopped at some point now both of them quietly watching you. Your eyes glance back to Cyclone and you can see that he wants to talk, to protest your leaving.

“Not today. Not tell I finish this fucking mission.” Your empty hand points at Cyclone, though your voice lacks your usual conviction.

You can hear him start to say your name, though before he can you sidestep passed Rooster and leave. Your shoulders brush and cause the pilot to turn and watch your disappearing figure. Rooster glances back to Cyclone, though he doesn’t meet Rooster's gaze. His eyes stay settled on the folder on the desk and just barely Rooster can make out your last name.

...

The sound of the Hard Deck door has Bob’s head snapping up in hopes to see you. Jake had shown up two hours ago and said that Cyclone kept you to talk. It didn’t seem like anything out of the normal, plus Cyclone had made the comment about Adams, Bob was sure that you both were just having a good catch-up and laugh.

Though the uneasy face of Rooster coming through the door gains his and everyone else’s attention. It’s a little busier tonight, but Rooster makes it through the crowd in record time and aims straight for Bob.

“Something happened.” The comment is aimed at Bob, though it gains the attention of the whole group and causes them to surround the pair.

“What are you talking about?” Bob was usually meek and mild around the group, though with you missing and Rooster now, his voice comes out hard and demanding.

“Cherry, Y/n.” The use of your name doesn’t go unnoticed and the sight of Rooster now racking a hand through his hair and pacing causes an uneasy feeling to settle over the group. Before Bob can reply, Hangman’s voice cuts in and if you’d have heard it, you would have known that it was Jake. At that moment he was your Jake again.

“Bradshaw, stop fucking pacing and talk.”

“I don’t know what happened. I had to talk to Cyclone about some paperwork, but when I got to his office Y/n was there. Just standing in the middle of the room, gripping onto some paper and not saying anything.” His pacing starts up again, though he keeps talking. “I was just going to ignore it; tell Cyclone I’d talk to him Monday. But the look in his eyes as he watched her, he was barely holding it together. Before I could leave Y/n grabbed the 5th of whiskey and went to leave, she was a shell, guys. Cyclone tried to stop her, and I don’t know what she meant, but I’d never heard her sound like that. Broken, completely vacant.”

“What the fuck did she say Rooster?” The curse word falls from Bob’s lip so naturally, it would call for some attention, though with the problem at hand, no one seemed to notice.

“She said ‘Not today. Not till I finish this fucking mission.’ The words were barely a whisper and then she was just gone. I caught sight of a file on Cyclone’s desk, was classified but it had Bishop blocked out across it.”

You and Bob had this location rule, that you would always keep it on for each in case something happened, and he had never been so thankful. He hears Hangman release a round of curse words as the group talk trying to figure out what to do.

The small dot that lights up Bob’s phone has him releasing a breath, though the location was on the edge of the water, and he didn’t have any idea where you would be around there.

“I’ve got her location, but I don’t ha–”

The phone is ripped from his hand by Jake and before Bob can say anything Jake shoves the phone back into Bob’s hand and turns to leave.

“You’re not going to see her, Hangman.” The comment halts Jake and causes him to slowly turn around and assess Bob. “You’ll just make it worse; you need to say here.”

Jake’s shoulders tense up and the five steps to Bob only take him two. The pair of them stand eye to eye and causes Javy to try and slip in between them.

“Floyd, don’t fucking test me right now.” Bob doesn’t falter at the words and instead steps that inch closer. “You might know a lot, but this, you don’t know fucking shit.”

Jake’s voice cracks slightly and Bob’s stance softens slightly.

“I know exactly where she’s at and I’ve got a pretty good idea of what it’s about. So, I’m gonna go and if you try and stop me, I’ll put you on your ass so fucking quick.”

“Thought she didn’t mean anything to you anymore?”

“She has and always will mean everything to me, Floyd. And right now, she isn’t Cherry. She’s the little ten-year-old that I hugged and held every day that first summer. That little girl needs me and I’ve fucked up a lot, but this. You would have to kill me, to stop me from helping Her.”

...

How you ended up back here, you’re not sure. Call it survival mode that took you back to your safe place. You hadn’t been here since you were fifteen, when you and Jake had flown in for your mother’s, and you guess your father’s, five years.

You’d stripped out of your flight suit after you finished 1/4th of the bottle, finding a pair of shorts in the back of your jeep. Then found your way out to the little cove, it was just off the trail you ran this morning and from it, you could watch the one place that should have been your forever home. But lost the glimmer and shine after they died.

You lift the bottle and the lightness of it has you looking at it in wonder of how you had already put over half the bottle away. Your toe’s dig deeper into the sand as you take another drink. The tears flow from your eyes freely and the burning sensation that should be in the back of your throat is missing.

The sound of feet walking across the slippery rock path, that’s slowly disappearing as the tide rises, gets your attention and you find the one face that you're surprised to see and yet not at all surprised. Jake was the only one you’d ever brought here, he was the only one you trusted enough once upon a time.

“Are you Hangman or Jake today?” Your eyes cloud over and cause you to look back out at the water as he stops just to the side of you. “Cause there’s only one of them that I’m gonna talk to.” You try to sound strong and sure of yourself, though the end breaks through with a small laughing cry.

“Hey, Darlin’.”

The name causes a sob to release from your chest and finally breaking down around the only person you’d ever let fully in. For this moment none of the bullshit matters, you’d need him. You needed your Jake, and he’d come.

His arms wrap around you as your chest heaves, and you can’t seem to catch your breath. Though the hand against the back of your head and the chest you rest against feels like home. He rocks you gently, whispering soothing words against the crown of your head, separated by a kiss every now and then.

Time seems to escape you, though you know it’s been a bit because the tide has risen, and yet Jake hasn’t let go of you once. Your breathing has finally slowed and matches his, grasping onto the one thing that has always grounded you. Even through the bullshit, the thought of Jake, not Hangman, but Jake always settled you.

“What happened, honey?”

Neither of you had talked, other than Jake’s quiet muttering, you had disconnected. You pull back from the warmth of his chest before your eyes then fall to the crinkled piece of paper sitting under the whisky bottle. You don’t make a move for it, you couldn’t look at it again. One of his arms slips from around you to grab the paper, and the small whimper that leaves your chest has Jake’s other hand tightening around you.

“I got you.” You cling to his shirt as another kiss is placed on the top of your head. The sudden tension that rips through Jake’s chest confirms that he’s finally looked and knows exactly who he’s looking at. Anyone could see the resemblance between you and your father, but Jake had come to know him on a deeper level. Through each picture, letter, and tearful night Jake knew him through your eyes. He knew what he meant to you.

Another shaky breath falls from your chest, at the thought of the image and Jake is quick to discard it. He leans back from you, to look at you, needing to see what was racing through your head. He lays a hand across your cheek and gently wipes the falling tears away.

“That was three years after his funeral.” He’d never seen you so broken, not even during the first years you lived in Texas. His brow creases in question and the words fall from your lips so vacantly. “They had him for three years, Jake. They... they... they”

The sentence doesn’t make it passed your lips, as another sob breaks from your chest. You fall back into his chest and the arms wrapped around you hold on to you a little tighter. You miss the shutter breath that matches your own, the harsh breath that shakes through his chest. The words try to break from your lips, but only quiet mutters bounce off of his chest.

“I know, darlin’.” You miss the tear that falls from him. “I’ve got you; I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that, curled up in Jake Serein’s lap. The home that you lost.  And somehow found again.

 He was your Jake again...  

[foxcantswim]

Who Are You? Chapter 5 || F!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Y/N is in love with Wanda... But Wanda is in love with Spider Noir. The thing is, Y/N and Spider Noir are the same person - But Wanda doesn't know that. Y/N has a secret identity to uphold. (Everyone lives AU - Set after DS:MoM)

F!Spider!Avenger!Reader x Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Words: 1.9k

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Angst, Chaotic Archer and Chaotic Assassin, Y/N freaking out-

"I've known you for less than a day and you already know who I am." You held your head in your hands as you leaned back in your chair within your office, a familiar face followed you into the room and closed the door behind them.

You had been in the medbay overnight as the doctors kept an eye on your vitals. Once the intruder had entered and announced that they knew who you were, you promptly passed out - most likely due to your injuries which were still healing, but also due to the fact that your heart was beating at a million miles per minute.

As the sun rose, you were allowed to leave. Your vitals had stabilised due to your much fast healing abilities. You had headed towards your office and tapped the button on your wrist in the process, effectively removing the suit.

Someone other than Wanda had figured out who you were... This couldn't possibly get any worse, right?

"It wasn't too hard to figure it out."

"Wanda is going to kill me. If you find my body, you know who did it," you groaned, banging your head on the table. You sat up and looked towards the girl, "How did you even find out?"

"When you're an archer you tend to focus more. It was pretty easy, to be honest."

Kate. Bishop.

The one person you had barely interacted with at all within the Avengers.

"Seriously?" you asked.

A moment passed before she shook her head, "No. Yelena told me. She said you were stupid for drinking water so carelessly."

"Yelena knows too?!" you scoffed, panic rose within you, "This just keeps on getting worse. Why would she even tell you this?!"

"We kind of tell each other everything. We agreed on no secrets between us, it makes things easier."

"I'm guessing Natasha knows, too," your heart was beating fast. Wanda was supposed to be first. Not second, or third, or fourth.

Kate shook her head, "I don't think so? She didn't say anything about telling her. And I sure as hell haven't told Clint."

"This is a disaster," you muttered, head in your hands.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so reckless..."

"Coming from you, that's an insult," you rolled your eyes, "You haven't exactly got a good track record from what I can tell." The anger, panic and hurt within you was sending you into a spiral.

"Ouch," Kate cleared her throat. You let out a loud groan, frustration seething throughout you. "Hey, hey, hey, if it makes you feel any better, I promise not to tell anyone. Hand on my heart," she assured, placing her hand on her chest.

"What about Yelena!?"

She nodded, "I will make sure she doesn't either."

"B-But what if Wanda reads your mind? Or Yelena's? She'll find out who I am one way or another!"

Kate tried to dismiss the thought of how creepy it was that Wanda could just invade anyone's mind, "We won't give her a reason to. We'll just go about our day as normal..." she paused before leaning on the desk, "Also... You seem pretty set on not letting Wanda find out. Why is that?"

You had a glare on your face before you quickly turned away from Kate, "No reason," you muttered.

Kate leaned her head in closer, raising an eyebrow before a smile made its way onto her face, "I know that look all too well. I've experienced that look myself."

"What are you talking about, Bishop?" you groaned, returning to gaze back towards her.

She laughed, "The 'I'm so in love but I'm too dumb to do anything about it' look."

"Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?" you grumbled before turning on your computer. You needed literally anything to distract you right now.

"Yep," she said, a smile still on her face. She then stood up, "But you didn't deny it."

"Go away," you waved towards the door.

Kate hummed before making her way towards the door, "You know I'm right," she shrugged, "I'll catch you later anyways."

As she opened the door, you groaned before calling her, "Kate?" she turned to look at you, you finally managed to crack a smile, "Thanks. For not telling anyone."

With a nod, Kate smiled wider, "No problem, Y/N." She left, softly closing the door behind her.

Your smile quickly dropped as you heard her footsteps grow distant. Your heart was still beating way too fast. You couldn't believe that you had betrayed Wanda like this.

"Y/N?!" a voice coming from the doorway caused you to jump, "Have you seen Noir around? She's supposed to be here today and I wanted to check up on her. The doctors told me she left the medbay earlier this morning."

Shit. You forgot that you were supposed to be around the compound as Noir today, you had promised Peter you would spar with him later on in the day too. Something about him wanting to prove that he was indeed the best spider around.

"Errr... Nope. No I haven't," you coughed awkwardly before turning your attention back towards the monitors on your desk, "Sorry, W-Wanda. I will let you know if I see her, okay?"

Wanda sighed, you could hear the sadness in her voice, "Yes. Thanks." She made her leave quickly, you did your best not to turn your head and look at her.

You released a breath you hadn't even realised you'd been holding. Your heartbeat had only recently calmed down, but after seeing Wanda again - it quickened at an alarming rate.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, deciding that you had enough time before Tony would come in for the papers. You had exactly two hours before anyone was supposed to check on you. Without thinking, you ran to the door and slammed it close locking it. You headed over to the window, throwing it open, you pressed a button on your wrist in the process.

Peeking out the window to make sure nobody was around, you decided that it was safe and jumped out. You promptly ran around the building, hoping to not get caught, as you made your way towards the front doors of the compound.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you made it, you pushed the doors open and headed inside.

"Hey, Noir!"

You turned your head towards the voice, "Oh, hey, Spidey."

Peter laughed, "Weren't you supposed to be here earlier? Wanda's been looking for you."

With a nod, you replied, "Y-Yeah. After what happened last night, I... thought it would be best if I headed home to clear my head. I'll apologise to Sam and Steve for not being here."

"As long as you're still up for a spar later? It's okay if you're still... you know."

"I'll let you know, Peter," you sighed, "Sorry if I can't."

In truth, you were still experiencing mild aches and pains all over. Taking a grenade blast surprisingly does that to you.

"Hey, no worries! There's always next time," he reassured you, "I think you should go and find Wanda, though. She seemed pretty worried."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Thanks, Peter."

Nodding, he waved you off and walked down the hall.

It was now time to find Wanda.

You passed by a number of different Avengers, all greeting you and asking if you are okay. Most of them also mentioned Wanda.

"Y/N L/N!" an excited voice sounded from behind you, "I've been looking for you!"

"Shhh!" you hushed, turning around, "Do you want everyone to find out who I am?!" you whisper-yelled at the blonde.

Yelena grinned, "Oops," she soon nodded, "You're lucky I tolerate Kate Bishop. She has persuaded me not to tell anyone."

"I would be really grateful," you said, turning your head away, "I'm just not ready for anyone to know yet. I'm trying my best not to freak out knowing that you two have found out. I don't even know how you managed to, I was so careful."

"Careful?" Yelena laughed loudly, "I'm a highly trained assassin, Y/- Noir. I notice things. Like you being a fool by drinking with your mask so high up."

"Oh, god, so that means Natasha knows, too!" your eyes were wide behind your mask.

Shrugging, Yelena shook her head, "I'm not so sure about that. She's pretty dense. If she does know, she hasn't showed that she does."

You really hoped that she didn't.

"Noir!" a voice caught your attention from down the hall. You looked to finally see the little witch you had been searching for, "Finally!" she exclaimed, a smile on her face.

Yelena laughed quietly as you approached Wanda, "Hey, I'm so sorry I disappeared and-" Wanda simply pulled you into a hug, releasing a thankful sigh. The rolled her eyes before making her exit.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Wanda tightened her grip, your body flinched at the pain but you shook it off - anything to be kept in Wanda's arms.

"I'm all good because of you-"

"What were you thinking?!" her smile dropped as she pulled back, "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

You shook your head, startled by her sudden outburst, "What was I supposed to do? Just let you take the hit?"

"You could've gotten us both to safety!"

"I couldn't think of anything other than making sure you were safe, Wanda," you tried to your best to explain, "It was a heat of the moment thing. I would do it again."

Of course she couldn't stay mad at you for too long, she went back in for another hug which you gladly accepted, "Noir..." she said with a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," you held her tighter, "After that time we took care of the civilians in that burning building... I can't bear to see you like that again, Wands. I can't promise you that I won't jump in front of another grenade for you."

"I hate you," she muttered into your shoulder, "But you know I would do the same for you."

"I know you would," and you hated the idea of Wanda throwing herself into danger for you.

As the days went by, you knew you wanted to tell Wanda who you were. But first, it was time to get to know her as Y/N. Not Noir. You had already gotten to know the majority of the other Avengers as your civilian self, Wanda was just the final target for you to conquer.

"This is disgusting."

"Yelena, it's not disgusting!" Kate gasped. Her and Yelena peeked round the corner to watch you and Wanda.

Yelena nodded her head, "Yes. Disgusting. Love is disgusting."

Scoffing, Kate replied, "Is that so?"

"Yes," a smirk played on the blonde's lips.

Kate couldn't help but roll her eyes, however she couldn't stop the smile from appearing on her face as she continued to watch.

HAVE A GOOD DAY OR ELSE-

I really appreciate all the love and feedback you guys give, it means so much to me!

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[walkingstackofbooks]

I was thinking last night about how it would have affected Julian if he'd arrived a few seconds too late to that Cargo Bay in Hard Time and Miles had died in front of him (because that's always a fun (distressing) scene to imagine 👀) and that kind of spiralled into a whole canon-divergent 'verse...

Because then I got to The Quickening, and while I don't think Kira and Dax would have let a more emotionally-vulnerable Julian actually stay on the planet by himself for that whole time, if they did (or if he refused to beam up/ threw away his badge so they couldn't find him/ idk otherwise made it so they had to leave him) (because if anything he's going to be even MORE convinced he has to save every life he possibly can) it would obviously be even more devastating.

And I can imagine that, after all that time that Julian has spent with Ekoria and looking after her, Trevean might ask if Julian's going to take her baby or leave him to be raised on Teplan. In the canon universe Julian's obviously like *nervous laughter* "no I think he'll be better off with you... I could not raise a child" but in this 'verse he's entered his Feeling-All-The-Loneliness-Feels phase early and so is like "fuck I can't raise a kid but also I Literally Cannot Leave This Child It Would Kill Me" and so he takes Ekoria's baby back to DS9.

He takes his kid to the medical conference he goes to with Jake which, valid, but then they get the distress call from Ajilon Prime* and he's like "I can't take my baby to a warzone" and Jake's like "I'll look after him, it sounds like these people need you" and Julian's pretty torn but also he does Need To Save People so they go and, uh. Like I think reactions are pretty mixed about the baby but Julian is literally a Lifesaver so no-one's gonna complain too much and some of the patients want to hold Maris (the kid's called Maris after Ekoria's husband I decided) and it's sweet, y'know, to have a moment outside of the war and pain with this tiny lil bab.

[*Umm yeah this was just me jumping to the most fun (traumatic) events to imagine as I tried to go to sleep so forgive me but...]

Obviously Jake doesn't go off to the runabout with the kid so he still gets lost and when he returns Julian's cradling the baby and idk but my heart just imagining the scene where Julian's like "I should never have brought you here, what was I thinking?" is just MORE with him having his own son there too.

And then we skip to IPS/BIL and Julian's in the prison camp not knowing if his baby is alive and then coming back to realise the changeling has been parenting his son for a month (and having to run multiple test on Maris to check if his baby is actually his or if Maris is a changeling too) and also no-one even noticed he was missing even though apparently his kid had been crying like all the time (and fuck, how fucked up is that going to leave Maris because that sort of thing affects kids when it happens that young, right? anxietyyyy)

(also Miles would have noticed I wasn't me, Julian thinks. because he needs more reasons to feel sad.)

And then DBIP in this 'verse makes me UNHINGED because IMAGINE a Julian Bashir who hit his depression point a season earlier but has been teetering along okay since Maris came along now that he has this whole little life to look after and he will do Anything for his child. (okay apart from stay away from warzones when there are people to save but you know. basically anything)

Anyway yeah so Julian's got Maris with him in Sisko's office when Jadzia turns up with his parents and he is FAR less able to cope than canon Julian is because 1. more emotional instability, but mostly 2. he is a Dad with a Kid and NOPE he cannot have his parents anywhere near his baby that is Not Happening.

He has his oh, my god moment and then hands Maris to Sisko being like "Your grandson is lovely, Commander" and Ben and Jadzia are like ??? but play along and Julian finds some quarters for his parents and by the time they've got there with all the small talk of "hah, for a second there I thought you'd be telling us we have grandkids! when are you going to settle down with a nice girl, Jules?" he's ready to burst but his kid's still with Sisko so he just excuses himself with "I've got to work" and hurries back...

Dax and Sisko totally haven't been gossiping about him and they're all like "So what was that about? Grandson??" and he's like "You saw how they kept calling me Jules, right? I haven't gone by that name since I was 15. And my dad saying he had to convince me to do medicine?? He hated the idea of me being a doctor. I had to study for Starfleet in secret because he just couldn't let go of the idea of his son being a famous tennis player. And now he's convinced himself my career was all his idea!" and is getting angrier and sadder and Maris starts crying and so he's hushing him like "it's okay, i'm sorry, i'm not angry with you, i love you, you're safe, i'm not going to hurt you" -- just idle things he's not really thinking about

Ofc Sisko and Dax are immediately on it like, "Why are you saying that? Did your parents hurt you...?"

And Julian's like a deer in the headlights, and awkwardly replying, "Not, like... My father didn't get as angry with me once I was seven and had grown up a bit, got more capable.. and I hit my growth spurt when I was 14, I got bigger than him, he didn't really do anything after that."

And Sisko tells him, "that's not really an answer."

Julian: "Isn't it?"

...

And then Sisko gets Kira involved to kick his parents off the station and you think the augment reveal isn't going to happen because Julian deserves a break and his parents are gone and can't fuck it up anymore ...

BUT, nah: Zimmerman - realising he's not going to get his precious interviews after all - decides to bug Julian's parents (because what's privacy when you have a job to do?). And then Rom realises that Zimmerman is cocking up a load of things on the LMH deliberately because he doesn't want to replace the EMH* and looks into Zimmerman's files and finds the report he's going to send and blackmails the guy* (there's gotta be a rule of acquisition about that right?) into not sending the report.

[*Not my idea -- this was the original plan for the episode, though with Miles, not Rom.]

Also after all this Julian really feels like he needs to punch something he goes to Quark's to viciously hurl sharp pointy objects at a board because that's the next best thing -- but also he hasn't exactly done that since Miles, and why is the fucking dartboard still up anyway it's not like anyone else ever uses it so he has another minor breakdown over that and tries to rip it down until Leeta drags him into a storeroom.

(oh yeah I totally think Leeta would have broken up with him when he turned up with a baby -- like not in a mean way, just in a "i'm sorry Julian, I love you, but I'm not ready for a kid (and also you did just leave me for a month without sending a message and you definitely didn't think about me before agreeing to adopt the kid, did you?)" kind of way, y'know? but they're still friends and she still definitely cares for him.)

(idk when rom tells julian what he did to zimmerman but when he does he's also awkwardly like "oh and i wish you and leeta all the best and julian's like ???? and rom's like "i saw you with her in the storeroom earlier. she called you sweetheart" or something and has assumed they're back together.)

--

And that's as far as I got but I just had to write it up so far because it has haunted me all day and I just need to get it out there.

Thanks for reading my stream of thoughts 💔

[ingravinoveritas]

hi again! you might already know about this, but i really felt like bringing it up to you!

turns out michael's mom is pretty active on twitter and these past few days she's been engaging nonstop with tweets talking about aziracrow being in love. she's definitelymichael's #1 fan, but i couldn't help noticing the amount of not-about-characters stuff she seems to engage with too. Among tweets talking about Aziraphale's loving stare, queer fans making our usual queer jokes and remarks about them, michael reading fanfiction, miles maitland gifs, there's a good amount of... this. She surely has liked random stuff among the 14.6k rts/likes she has, so i'm attatching some examples of what she's been liking and rting because-- what the hell (i even spotted one of your tweets in the mix!) she even liked a tweet calling AL and GT innefable wives ??

my first thought was how embarrased i'd personally be if my mom was seeing comments online about me and my best buddy being madly in love, let alone engaging with them, but after it settled i'm just... in awe that this probably +70 y/o woman is being this supportive over social media 😭 so heart warming (btw i'm sorry for randomly popping up into your questions twice today- i have literally made this account after finding yours, feeling a bit less alone in the world)

(Grouping these two Asks together since they are related.) Ask #1: Hi there! No need at all to apologize for being in my inbox twice in same day. I'm so glad that my blog has been helpful and meaningful to you, and that you felt compelled to write in as a result. Welcome aboard!

So, Mama Sheen. She's been doing this for years--at least since 2019, when I first started following Michael on Twitter--but I will tell you my slightly crackpot theory, which is that for a while back in the day, I thought that maybe her account was actually Michael's secret alt account. (What better place to hide than in plain sight, after all...). I'm not so sure about that now, of course, but it's been really interesting to see her retweeting so much shippy stuff involving Michael and David, and as both you and @tamose pointed out, she especially seems to have ramped it up since GO 2 came out.

I also wanted to touch on you describing Mama Sheen as Michael's #1 fan, because although I wholeheartedly agree, it's a curious thing to me that we can more easily see her as Michael's number one fan than his own girlfriend. It's Mama Sheen--not AL--who has been retweeting all of this, who's been cheering him on, engaging with fan content, and retweeting all things Ineffable Husbands/GO 2. I've written on my blog previously about how I've never really seen AL be supportive of him (and how she spent much of 2020 and 2021 making fun of his appearance/fat-shaming him), as well as how she is not at all part of that polyamorous/throuple dynamic with Michael, David, and Georgia. And while I know the lack of engagement and carefully calculated interactions/posts could be chalked up to her not being able to promote the show due to the SAG strike, that doesn't really excuse her tepid support of Michael himself.

(Also, don't even get me started on the cringeyness of Georgia and AL as Ineffable Wives, not to mention how insulting it is to David and Michael personally and to their work as professionals to suggest that they are replaceable/that Georgia and AL (or anyone else) could play Aziraphale and Crowley and give us the same dynamic and chemistry we saw on screen...)

But yes, going back to Mama Sheen, I have long thought that she seems to ship Michael and David, and how sweet and heartwarming it would be if Michael brought David over for tea or dinner--especially because his own mother passed away several years ago--and no doubt Mama Sheen would dote on him and make sure he's fed and happy. It's especially interesting to contemplate when we see this picture from the Bright Young Things UK premiere in 2003, which almost looks like Mama (and Papa) Sheen posing with Michael and his kilt-wearing Scottish boyfriend:

Beautiful. Well, it's certainly something delightful to think about, at any rate. Whatever the case may be, I fully agree that it is lovely to see Michael's mom being so supportive and accepting of her son, particularly in the midst of such a hostile, anti-LGBTQ climate in the UK. We love you, Mama Sheen! ❤️

[the-trans-anon]

Insomanic Spider-Man and Revenge

Something that's really interesting to me is the theme of revenge in the insomanic games, so I wanted to go game-by-game and discuss how revenge is used. This post is gonna b long so putting a read more

Spider-Man (2018):

In the first game we have Martin Li and Doc Ock. Both completely destroy their lives in pursuit of revenge.

Martin Li goes against the values he formed FEAST with, completely betrays everyone who worked for him. He hates Norman Osborn because Norman killed his parent, but in his attempts at revenge Li does the exact same thing to not just Miles but SO many other familes. How many people do you think he killed in not just the bombing but also the many shootouts the Demons cause? In the Devils Breath plague? He wasn't the one who unleashed it in the end, but he still planned to.

Doc Ock falls down a very similar path. He takes a tool that was originally meant to help and heal, and uses it to hurt. In his desire to cause Norman's downfall, he not only brutally attacks and nearly kills one of his closest friends, but also kills SO many people with Devils Breath. And, completely unlike Li, he feels little to no remorse for it. Doc Ock feels like the people who died deserved it, because they put Norman in power.

In the DLC we also have Yuri, who turns against her friends and coworkers in her attempts to destroy Hammerhead, but Yuri is less about revenge destroying someone and more about a "the ends justify the means" mindset. While she does have a theme of revenge in her story, I feel like its less present in her actual character arc. She less destroys her life and more takes her life down a different path. She recognizes that the system can't give her what she views as justice and so decides to take it into her own hands.

Spider-Man: Miles Morales (2020):

Ok, Phin. We don't know a ton about Phin before she started working towards revenge, but from what's there: my interpretation is Phin ends up going against the values that her brother died for in her bid for revenge.

Phin's brother (his name escapes me) lived to help others, and the Second he realized his research was being used for not only capitalist greed but also harming people he wanted to put a stop to it. Phin, in attempting to finish what her brother started, completely loses sight of this original goal. She hurts people, a lot of people, including her closest friend, and almost basically sets off a bomb in Harlem.

Phin wasn't stupid, you can't convince me that some part of her didn't recognize the risks. She was so angry and so convinced that she was the right one that she ignored the harm she was doing until it was too late.

Spider-Man 2 (2023):

Peter's character arc in this game is a direct parallel of Doc Ock's arc in the first game. Thanks to the symbiote weaking Pete's self control, he wants revenge on Kraven and hurts the people around him in the process. He turns Harry's kindness against him, gives MJ the cold shoulder, and literally attacks Miles. He's angry and upset and he doesn't know how to handle it other than taking it all out on Kraven.

Similar to how the arms affected Doc Ock mentally, while the symbiote does affect Pete mentally the emotions and desires he feels are still very very real. In direct contrast to Doc Ock though, Pete is given a chance and he takes it.

Miles didn't save Peter, Peter saved himself. But if Miles hadn't been there and hadn't supported Peter, Peter never would've gotten rid of the symbiote. Miles said to Peter: "I know you're angry but you're hurting people who don't deserve this, you need to stop" and, unlike Doc Ock, Peter listened and took the steps necessary to bring himself away from that path.

Meanwhile, Miles ALSO has a big theme of stepping away from revenge. Miles' entire character arc in the second game is him looking at how others ruined their lives through a search for revenge, looking at his own desire for revenge, and saying "I'm good. I don't want to go down that path"

Miles comes close to killing Li at least twice. If he would've actually killed Li is debatable (I personally believe he wouldn't have), but there's two times where Miles has an opportunity to kill the person who put him and his family through so much suffering, and he considers it.

Miles wants Li to suffer, he wants Li to feel even a fraction of the pain Li made Miles feel, but by the end of the game Miles is able to recognize that that doesn't help him or him mom recover from what they went through, it just causes more pain. Miles decides that he doesn't want to hold onto that hate, that he wants to move on, and so he does. Which gives Miles one of the most emotionally mature character arcs in the entire series.

It looks like the theme of revenge is gonna continue into the third game, with Doc Ock wanting to make both Norman and Pete suffer, and Norman wanting to make the Spider-Men suffer. It's just really interesting how every game has dealt with this idea of the harm revenge can cause.

[keeshya6]

Last Chance

Chapter 1 - The Last Thing You Expected

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M (Eventually will be E. 18+ only, minors dni!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You had been happy once. That was a long time ago. Then life had just gotten in the way.

And after that? The world ended.

Since then, you've just been trying to survive. You definitely didn't think you'd ever run into your past, much less have a chance to try again.

Content Warnings and general info: This will be both post- and pre- outbreak. There WILL be spoilers from the show. Slow burn, kinda. You'll see what I mean.

I do avoid most specific descriptors for Reader characters, but she does have long-ish hair, though texture and color are not specified. She also blushes, though I don't specify just how noticeable it is. Character will have a background/history. I tend to treat a Reader character like a role that people can step into, rather than her literally being the person reading it. The Reader character also has a nickname.

First chapter doesn't really have much to warn about other than minor flirtation. That's about it. I will include more warnings in future chapters.

Lastly, this is a pretty short chapter, just to get us started. Future chapters will be longer, I'm sure. Possibly, significantly longer.

Also available on Ao3

I hope you enjoy!

----------

Chapter 1 - The Last Thing You Expected

----------

This can't be real. 

There's no way that's him. No way. 

You haven't seen him in two decades. Since the day you broke your own heart and boarded a plane out of Texas. That was over a thousand miles away.

And about four months before the world ended.

You swallow thickly, your brows pinching together into a scowl as you look at his back for another moment, trying to quiet the rapid beating of your heart.

"Tommy?" His name comes out of you with a bit of a squeak and you have to clear your throat. 

He stops, mid-sentence in ordering a drink at the bar of The Tipsy Bison, and turns to look at you. 

You hadn't meant to be rude and interrupt. You're just so surprised.

You're not the only one. 

Tommy's eyes narrow a bit as he looks at you, faint recognition showing in his expression, like he's trying to place your face. 

He hasn't changed. The same dark hair, worn long. Same small mustache. Same dark eyes. Handsome features worn a little bit with age, but not much. He still looks just like you remember Tommy Miller looking. 

Those dark eyes finally light up with realization and his brows shoot up towards his hairline. He gasps out your name before giving a laugh of disbelief and coming off of his barstool in a rush to scoop you up in a hug.

You squeak again in surprise and then you're laughing, too. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you return the hug as he lifts you off the floor for a moment. 

When he sets you back down on your own feet, he's beaming at you. "What are you doing here, Eeps?"

You give an exaggerated sigh and roll your eyes. "Oh God, I forgot about that nickname."

Tommy grins down at you. "I did, too, until you made that noise."

You scrunch up your nose at him before you're both laughing again.

Giving a firm squeeze to your shoulders, he guides you over to the bar. "When did you get into Jackson?"

It takes you a moment to maneuver yourself onto one of the tall barstools and then he sits on the one next to you. "About a week ago. Just…been getting settled," you answer with a shrug. "How about you?"

"Almost two years ago now," he says with a slight shrug. 

You give a little nod in acknowledgement, and then a quiet moment passes before you smile at him again. "You look good, Tommy."

He smirks, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. There might even be a bit of a red tinge in his cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks, Eeps. Things have been…pretty good lately." His smirk becomes a grin and he seems to get lost in thought for a moment. "Yeah…Jackson's been good to me," he says with a firm nod, focusing on you again. He reaches over, lightly bumping your knee with a fist. "You're looking good too!"

You snort softly and laugh. "Should've seen me a week ago. You wouldn't have recognized me at all. Amazing what a week's worth of decent sleep and some good food will do."

His face splits into another brief grin. "Yeah, it is." Then, Tommy hesitates for a moment, growing serious before asking, "Where were you before?"

You fidget with the bottom hem of your shirt, absentmindedly, giving a small shrug as your expression turns sad. A little haunted. "The Portland QZ. It… it got overrun a few months ago."

A noticeable cringe crosses his features. "Damn. Sorry."

Another shrug lifts up your shoulders. "Fact of life now," you murmur.  Then you give him another strained smile. "But thanks." You pause for a moment, before your curiosity starts to poke at you. "What about you…before here?" 

Tommy turns on his stool to face the bar, waving to catch the bartender's attention before looking over at you again. "Umm… a few different places. Boston, for a while. Then, worked my way across the country."

"Oh, wow," you gasp out, your eyebrows arching sharply. And you thought it would have been a long trip from Austin. "Um… were you-"

You cut your question short when the bartender steps over. Tommy requests a whiskey for himself and gives you a questioning look. 

"Oh… just a beer, please?"

The bartender nods and turns to grab your drinks as Tommy focuses back on you. 

You're fidgeting again, this time tapping your fingertips one at a time against the pad of your thumb. It's an old, nervous habit.

"All the way across the country, huh?" you ask, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. "On-on your own?"

A soft, knowing smile crosses Tommy's lips. "No. Most of the time I was with friends."

Friends. 

Not family. 

You nod, grateful for the beer that's placed in front of you. Grabbing it up, you take a long swig of it as he takes a swallow of his whiskey.

When you look back at Tommy again, you sigh shakily. That knowing look hasn't left his face. You both know the questions you are avoiding asking.

You're scared that you already know the answers. 

You thought you had moved on a long time ago, never having expected to see anyone from your past again. 

Just seeing Tommy alive, so far from the life you knew him in before, is a miracle. This world has so few of those to offer anymore.

It's too much to ask for another. 

Tommy is the one to break the growing silence between you though, taking pity on you so you don't have to voice your question. 

His words steal the air from your lungs. 

"Joel's alive, Eeps."

—

"Um, hey there…"

You had nearly choked on a gulp of red wine, surprised by that voice. Thankfully, it had come from behind you, and you were able to cover up your mishap by gently clearing your throat before turning. 

Swallowing hard, you had turned on your toes to find the source of the voice as it spoke again.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced yet, Miss."

Oh, Good Lord. If that luscious baritone -with just a hint of a fry to it- wasn't as sweet as a good, Georgia-peach iced tea, then you didn't know what was. 

And the face that came with it?

Well, if they made men like this in Texas, then you thought you just might be able to learn to like it here after all. 

His words had finally clicked in your mind and you gave a little smile, shaking your head. "No. I don't think so."

Eyes of the warmest and richest russet brown you'd ever seen watched you closely, seeming to study the details of your own eyes as you took in the details of his. Tiny lines at their corners deepened as he gave you an almost bashful smile.

"Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to fix that," he said, a bit of a drawl coming through.  His broad shoulders moved in a shrug before he offered a hand. "M' name's Joel Miller."

Your tongue darted across your lips as unexpected nervousness pricked at your mind, your stomach a bit of a flutter.  Reaching out, you couldn't help noticing how his hand dwarfed your own, yet his grip was gentle as he shook it. 

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Miller," you said, after giving him your name and a soft smile.

His rumbling chuckle made a warmth dance across your skin, and you prayed to whoever might listen that you weren't actually blushing like a silly school girl. 

"Please, just Joel is fine. If my brother heard me called 'Mr. Miller'... well, I'd never hear the end of it."

You laughed a little at that and nodded, nervously tucking a rebellious lock of hair behind your ear. Lifting your glass of wine, you took a sip of it to give yourself a moment, to gather up your nerves and tuck them back away where they belonged. 

After that sip, and a clarifying deep breath, you felt a little more composed and gave him a warm smile. 

"Okay, Joel it is." 

Oh well, jeez, why did he have to smile like that? You had just gotten that threat of a blush under control!

Then you blinked in realization. 

"Oh! 'Miller'. You're with the new contracting company that saved our bacon on the top floors," you said. 

Now he almost seemed to blush with a single-shouldered shrug. "I don't know about 'saved your bacon', but yeah. That's my company."

You definitely knew that Miller Construction had saved your bosses some hassle. You were part of the architectural design team for a new high-rise hotel in Austin. The build was nearly done except for the top two floors, which included what would be the highest costing suites, when the previous contractors had started pulling some tricks in an attempt to renegotiate their contract. The firm you worked for had nearly been forced to agree to the new terms just to meet the deadline,  when Miller Construction came around with a bid that saved them time and money. 

In fact, it was such a good deal that you had wondered how the new contractor could possibly be making any money off of it. It turned out that it was a fairly new company. The owners, a pair of brothers that your boss knew from when they worked for a different company, were just getting started on their own and trying to build up their customer base. 

Your smile had brightened a bit. "Oh, I know you saved us a bunch of hassle," you said. "And we appreciate it."

His smile widened, enough for a single dimple to cease one cheek. "Well… I won't argue it. I'll happily accept your appreciation," he had drawled. 

Oh boy. You were in trouble.

And this time you knew you were blushing.