#did you finally get Jess before the event closed?

[chiisana-sukima]

if heaven/hell hadn't been vying for the apocalypse, do you think sam ever would have reasonably had a shot at escaping / having an actually good and healthy life? just curious about your opinion! :)

I think the root problem was Azazel, and that neither Sam nor Dean could've done better than they did in canon as long as the instigating event of Azazel's deal with Mary remained unchanged. Plotwise, as long as Azazel still wants Sam to rule Hell's armies, everything is still essentially the same up to the point when Dean goes to Hell and Sam is killing himself with drugs and alcohol trying to get there too.

Ruby's machinations are the first thing that would've gone differently in a No Apocalypse universe, and although Jared didn't start playing Sam as having overt, symptomatic PTSD until after the Cage, even without Ruby this is still a man for whom the only way out is through. He would've gotten himself to Hell one way or another, simply because he couldn't tolerate having Dean there in his stead. And given time in Hell as an inevitability for both of them, I can imagine it ending worse than canon, but I can't imagine it ending better.

In the bad (complimentary) spn in my head, the most likely outcome would be that since there would be no rescue from Cas, Dean would be a demon by the time Sam managed to get to him and Sam would eventually end up the King of Hell in order to protect Dean. The CW's spn I don't think would go that far, but before the first writers' strike cut s3 short, they were planning on having Sam go "fully darkside" (whatever that means) to rescue Dean, so I can't see that ending well either.

I want to specify though that I think Sam did get out and live a good, relatively healthy life. He died at home of natural causes at what appears to be a reasonably advanced age, with his apparently well-adjusted adult son at his bedside. Since the cycle of violence in spn is represented by failure to accept the death of loved ones (Mary->John, John->Mary, Sam->Jess, Dean->Sam, Sam->Dean, Dean->Sam again, etc), the reversal at the end with Dean asking Sam to let him go, Sam doing so, closing down the bunker, and having his own child who as an adult lets him go in turn, represents the end of the Winchester curse.

I don't think Sam ever recuperated 100%. He names his kid Dean after all, which is touching, but also kind of concerning given Everything. And the shrine of dead family pictures with no photos of living family to balance it out is a bit weird.

But, blurriness of his gender-nonconforming husband wife notwithstanding, this is a montage of a good life:

He's happy. His son is happy. He goes to parks and has a home and is proud of his son for studying and playing catch.

I assume the Sam of this montage still has PTSD. Jared still has MHIs irl and still sees a therapist after however many years, and he was the one who embodied Sam's PTSD for us on screen. I still have PTSD that I got when I was 10, and I'm 60 now and my daughter is 27. It's a disability. But the hard parts don't mean you haven't had a good life in total. Barely pulling through at 38(-ish, the age Sam was when Dean died his final death) doesn't mean your disability won't be well-managed at 48 or 58.

A lot of Sam fans feel that because when Sam died his Heaven was back with Dean, sitting in the passenger seat of Dean's car, listening to Dean's music, presumably following where Dean leads, without Dean first having had a chance to grow beyond the damage he had and passed on to others, it means Sam didn't escape his past. Tbh I think this interpretation is valid. I don't think any of the writers of spn through the years could imagine a story in which the members of a relationship are truly equals, treat each other as equals, and are treated by the narrative of their story as equals. We live in a society.

But I'm not naive by any stretch, and I nonetheless can imagine it, I'm better than them, so I'm satisfied. I don't want a revival, and the more time goes by for J2M to grow out of a plausible age range to set the revival before the finale, the less I want one, for precisely this reason. I prefer my own version of the future.

[casuallyawkardd]

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind Pt III

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: Miguel and you get the chance to get to know one another better while on a mission

Warnings: fluff, mentions of drug use but nothing crazy, super evil villain watch out, not fluent in Spanish so lemme know if I mess up

A/N: Finally the long awaited next part of the series! Thank you all for being so patient with me and I hope it holds up to expectation 😊 Also I finally made a masterlist for this series!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

One thing you liked about Nueva York was that you could see the stars at night. In your universe's New York, the lights alone would drown out their natural light, something you missed seeing back in your hometown. But here, they were plain to see, sparkling down on you from the open sunroof. Maybe someone in this universe developed lights that didn't snuff out the natural light of the world, that or maybe the future was less smoggy.

This wasn't the Nueva York you were familiar with, not technically anyway. What had Miguel called it? Earth-928C? It was another version of Miguel's home, one where there were enough differences that they were their own separate universes, but not so much so that it was classified under a different number. Speaking of Miguel..

"Remind me why I was chosen for this mission?" you asked, breaking the silence between you two. The man in question gave you a sideways glance, not looking too happy with your tone.

"Because Jess is already on one with Peter B and she suggested I take you instead," he answered matter-of-factly, nostrils flaring as he let out a huff.

"And...why did Jess have to be the one to come?"

"You know, you ask a lot of questions."

"And you avoid a lot of them," you quipped back, shooting him a half-hearted glare before sighing heavily, arms crossing over your chest. "I get the whole 'mysterious leader' thing, but I don't think it's too much to ask for a little more detail-"

"I needed someone to pose as my date to this event," Miguel cut you off. You awaited further explanation, but the other spider seemed to think that answer would suffice. It certainly explained the given dress code for the mission. Miguel sporting a suit, appearing like a simple black, but was shown to be a deep red when the light hit it just right. His eyes gave you the up and down, as if just now seeing your ensemble for the first time. "You clean up nice."

"A simple 'I like your dress' would work, O'Hara," you huff.

"Fine, I like your dress, happy?" he retorts and you roll your eyes, the compliment not as sincere when you have to pull teeth to get it.

Yet another moment of silence followed as the car drove on, a divider keeping the driver oblivious to the conversation between you two. "What's the mission?" you asked finally, "I know you mentioned something with anomaly capture, but we were in a rush so..."

"Ay dios mío," Miguel pulled up an image on his gizmo. "A variant of Doctor Octavius was detected here," he pointed to the flashing dot on the map, "that building just so happens to be where Alchemax is hosting their annual charity event. Make sense?"

"Mmm," you hum, "and do you expect that they'll just let us walk right in?"

"Of course they will," he said, clicking the hologram away and leaning back against the seat, "the Miguel of this universe still works for Alchemax, he's expected to be there."

"And you plan to pose as yourself in this dimension?" Miguel nods to confirm your thought. "What if the Miguel from this universe comes too?"

"He won't."

"And you know that because..?"

Miguel didn't respond, looking out the window as the car came to a stop. "We're here, let's at least pretend we like each other."

Stepping out, Miguel offered you his arm for you to get out of the car with ease. The building before you was tall, much like the skyscrapers of your universe, only maintaining that futuristic quality most things seemed to possess in Nueva York. The lights you could see from the top floor told you of your destination, all that was left was to make your way inside.

"Why the cameras?" you asked, indicating with a nod of your head to the flashing lights and large crowd around the base of the staircase that led to the entrance.

The sight made Miguel grimace, "Paparazzi," he spat the word, "makes sense, these things usually attract that kind of crowd. Celebrities, billionaires, anyone Alchemax can sucker into funding their projects." His disdain for the company was evident, as to why he had such a deeply rooted hatred for it, you had yet to hear that story. "Come on, let's just go in. Try not to be obvious." Before you could respond, he was already leading the way; his arm linked with yours as the two of you managed to slip inside.

The way up was uneventful, one high tech elevator ride and you were on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city. According to Miguel at least. On the way up, Miguel had shared the plan: lie low and wait, plain and simple. It wasn't like his usual plans, Miguel seeming to prefer getting in and out as quickly as possible, anomaly captured and sent to HQ in the blink of an eye.

"There's too many people," he explained, "one wrong move and this building could come crashing down with everyone inside. Just act natural and let the target reveal itself to us." Just how dangerous was this variant?

You were reluctant, but chose not to argue with his plan, especially once you saw the venue. The event was being held in a ballroom of sorts, designed for events such as this one. The room was large, accented by a stunning silver chandelier. There were tables for guests to sit at on the borders of the room, many already occupied by elite figures chatting away about business and what have you. Horderves and cocktails were being distributed on metal trays that hovered about the room. The room, the people in it, all that you saw combined into a reminder of just how advanced Miguel's universe truly was.

"Miguel?" a man's voice called out, the owner coming through the crowd. He was an older man, tall like the man at your side and equally well dressed, if not more. "Well, isn't this a treat?" There was a teasing tone to his voice, offering a hand that Miguel stiffly shook.

"Mr. Stone," Miguel mused, forcing a smile to maintain the facade, "How are you this evening?"

"Well," Stone replied, looking in your direction, "And who might you be?"

"Oh, just Miguel's date," you tell him, throwing your name out there as well.

Mr. Stone smiled, taking your hand in his, "I doubt something as lovely as you is 'just Miguel's date,'" he said before planting a kiss on the back of your hand. A gesture that made you want to retract your hand immediately, but you kept with the pleasantries.

"Well...I'm-"

"My girlfriend," Miguel interjected, pulling the unwanted attention off of you.

"Girlfriend?" Stone seemed surprised by the bit of information. "Didn't know you had one. Thought you were becoming a sort of recluse."

Miguel just shrugged, despite the comment seeming backhanded, an insult hidden behind a pearly white smile. "Well I have to get out sometimes," was all he said and Mr. Stone nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

"You should spend some of that time coming into the lab. I'm sure your team's been missing you."

"I'll think about it." Before the older man could continue, Miguel placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward and through the crowd, finding solace at an empty table.

"You know him?" you dared to ask, based on the sour expression marring Miguel's features.

"Tyler Stone," was all he said, huffing in annoyance, "He's in my universe as well, or I suppose was. This version doesn't seem to be as much of an entitled prick at least."

"Oh," was all you had to say, glancing around the party. Whoever this Stone person was, he seemed to have struck a nerve in Miguel, making him more irritable than usual. Something you didn't plan to tolerate all evening. "Miguel?"

"Mmm."

"Why the hell is everyone in every version of your universe so damn tall?"

Miguel paused, looking around confused before looking back at you, "I'm sorry?"

"I mean really, I've looked this room up and down and I'm pretty sure I'm the shortest one here. What's the average height, six foot three?"

He hummed in amusement, "Six foot one for women."

"Nuh uh."

"And six foot six for men."

"What the hell!?" you guffawed, your dramatics making a small smile appear on your partners lips. "What are they feeding you in the future?"

"Dunno, better food?" he shrugged, sitting back in his chair, posture more relaxed than it had been. "Anti-gravity tech is more normalized in my universe too. It's been proven to have an effect on the development of kids."

"And you know that because..?"

"Did a report on it in middle school."

"Of course you did."

"Keep the snide remarks to yourself," his tone hardened for a moment and you wondered if your attempt at lightening the mood had struck a nerve, but he continued on. "You know, I'm sure Vada could benefit from some anti-gravity therapy."

"Hey, my little lady is perfect at the size she is," you warned, the smile on your face keeping the conversation light hearted. "Plus, I want to savor her being small for as long as I can."

Miguel chuckled, "Ain't that the truth."

The air around you two seemed to shift with that little comment, your smile slowly fading in sync with his. You felt like you should say something, break the ice once more to relieve the somber air. "Miguel, I-"

"Es suficiente," he interjected, rising from his seat and adjusting his suit. "We need to stay focused. Start searching for the target, let's get a move on."

Complying, you rose to your feet as well, stopping after taking the first step to follow. "...No."

Miguel froze at the single syllable, turning to look at you over his shoulder, "What was that?"

"No," you repeated, his eyes now narrowing at you. "You were the one who said we needed to lay low, right?"

"...Yes, but-"

"Well," you interrupted and his jaw set in annoyance, "then we should take advantage of where we're at. Enjoy the party and all, yeah?"

"That's not-"

"If you need to get a hold of me, just call me on the gizmo."

"No, Y/N, we need to stick together," Miguel reached out to stop you, but you were already walking off, a platter of bruschetta catching your eye. Miguel let out a deep breath through his nose, "The anomaly could be anywhere, it's dangerous to be on your own."

"I'm not alone, I have you," you called back to him playfully, trying not to laugh at just how peeved he looked. "Let loose O'Hara, don't be such a stick in the mud. Is that whole wall an aquarium?"

You never knew rubbing elbows with the elite could be so...enjoyable. It seemed many found your conversation refreshing, a change of pace from the usual, high society vernacular. It helped that they had expensive taste as well. The food was immaculate and you regretted not bringing something to stash away extra. Something Vada could have tried when you got home.

Speaking of your little one, she had managed to get a hold of you through Lyla. You had been hesitant to let an AI watch over your daughter, but considering she looked to be in one piece, it looked like this little experiment worked out just fine. Vada was even ready for bed, hair washed and wearing fresh pajamas. The call was to simply say goodnight, you promising to tuck her in when you got home.

"Tell Miggy I said goodnight, too," your toddler demanded, making you laugh.

"I will. Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Mama."

As soon as you hung up, the group you had found yourself in was bombarding you with questions. 'You have a daughter? How old is she? Sounds like she misses her mother, huh? Why didn't you bring her tonight? Who's her father, maybe we know him? Is it Miguel?'

"Oh no, nothing like that," you had to chime in, waving your hands defensively, "I had her with my ex, she's too young to come to something like this." When they pressed for more information, particularly about Vada's father, you provided some dodgy answers before making the executive decision to excuse yourself.

The balcony seemed to be the place most people were going to get a moment of peace. It was dimmer, the only light coming from the windows looking into the ballroom. Some were having a smoke break, while others used the fresh air to keep the alcohol in their stomachs. Miguel was among them, neither drunk or smoking, leaning against the balcony on his own.

"This doesn't seem like the place to find a Doc Ock anomaly," you teased, coming to stand beside him.

He acknowledged you with a sideways glance before looking back at the city below. "Didn't get the chance to investigate much. Too many people trying to talk to me."

"Oh no, whatever will you do?"

"You're hilarious," he matched your sarcastic tone with his own.

"It must be nice though, people seem to like you a lot here. Or.. I guess the Miguel of this universe, at least." You looked over at him, debating your next words. "Miguel, how did you know he wouldn't be coming tonight?" You could see his jaw set, eyes now purposely avoiding yours. It was frustrating to say the least. "Come on, Miguel. Why can't you just tell me?"

"It's none of your business, that's why."

"Oh, but it's yours? Cuz it's you in another dimension? Tell me, when do I get to know the 'business' of every other version of me?"

"You know what? I'm getting real sick of-" Miguel whipped to the side to face you, his shoulder bumping yours and you stumbled to catch yourself. That seemed to give him pause, Miguel going quiet once more as the two of you now stared at each other. You were trying to understand what was going through his head, but his expression was as hard to read as ever. Blinking slowly, he let out a heavy sigh, going back to leaning against the railing. "It's just personal, alright? The Miguel of this universe and I have... a lot in common."

You didn't say anything, not sure what you would say anyway. Leaning forward on the railing, your eyes focused on your fidgeting hands, looking up when Miguel continued. "He's addicted to Rapture, a disgusting drug that Alchemax developed, just like I was," reluctantly his eyes met yours, gaze softer than it had been before. "except I succeeded where he will inevitably fail. He'll perform an experiment to get rid of the addiction, but it'll backfire. He'll be dead by the end of the week."

"Oh, Miguel, I.. I'm sorry to hear that," you placed a sympathetic hand on his forearm. You bit your lip in thought, unsure what to say under these circumstances "That must be hard, knowing a version of yourself is going to... you know."

Miguel just shrugged off your touch, "It wouldn't be the first time," he replied, you frowning at how quickly he brushed it off.

"Still, I'm sorry," you repeated, Miguel only humming to show he heard you. The two of you didn't say much after that, but it wasn't awkward like the other periods of silence between you tonight. There was tension, but time seemed to help melt it away. It began to feel almost natural, the kind of quiet you were used to sharing with a select few people. The breeze came in, cool against your skin, save for the part of you that pressed against Miguel's side, welcoming the warmth he had to give. "Hey," you said, "this might be a bad time to bring it up, but Vada did want to tell you goodnight."

A puff of air escaped his lips, making a 'tch' sound, shoulders shifting in a mute laugh. "Did she now? Well that's awfully generous of her." Miguel savored the sights of the city a moment longer, letting your news sink in before pushing off the railing, standing to his full height. "Come on, we should head back in. We still have a mission to finish."

"Right," you agreed, following after him. You had forgotten how bright the ballroom was, squinting at the brightness invading your vision. After that, it was back to the mission. This time you stuck close to Miguel's side, there to diffuse the small talk as politely as possible while he continued to search the room.

"The anomaly is in this room, stay on the alert."

You nodded at his instruction, eyes peeled for any guests who might be glitching in and out of reality. However, your attention was limited, eyes drawn to the aquarium you had seen earlier. It truly was a sight to behold, Miguel had pulled you away before you got the chance to get a good look. Twenty feet in height and a blue that was equally unnatural and alluring. Decorated to perfection, because of course it was, with well placed rocks that had corals of various colors and shapes sprouting between them. The fish were just as diverse, shapes and colors that glided about the water. Some you had never seen before, while others were a familiar sight. A pair of clownfish nestling into some anemone, a whale shark swimming above the reef, an octopus with a monocle and- Wait a minute.

"Miguel," you patted his arm to get his attention, pointing at the discovery. Your eyes had not deceived you, there was indeed an octopus, sporting a monocle that was reminiscent of a cyberpunk style, the glowing green eye within darting around suspiciously. Upon second glance, you saw that this octopus also sported two mechanical tentacles, the style matching the device over its eye.

"You've got to be kidding me," Miguel groaned, "this was a high threat alert." As if to answer his question, the creature glitched, startling a school of fish that then scattered about the tank.

"Yeah, real threatening, he might take over the entire aquarium."

"Can it, let's just get the thing and- what are you doing?"

"Hold on, I want to take a picture. Vada's gonna get a kick out of this."

Tags: @l0sert0wn​ @deputy-videogamer​ @arctic4life​ @sasaleleselfships​ @autismsupermusicalassassin​ @snert-bees @qundadedingle11 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @fangirlreice7 @mouse-teagreat @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @yellieeeee @thesrtuggleisveryreal @escherichiacolli @sweeteaacorner @marvelouslovely-barnes @meeom @candlewitch-cryptic​ @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @melovetitties @ilovemycat6808 @vegas-writing-den @pippethealien @shibble @mommyhange1 @chiikasevennn @pokhouu @jenniferdixon05207 @m0sscr3ates @momos-peaches @insanelycrazyanddelusional @miggyoharaswife @justtnat @imliquidesmooth @thedevillovesflowers @mvc2019   @starrynightnight @risinglightmoon @charming4u @whitetearx @blueparadisecollection16s @idontknowwhatimgoinghere @ziyahshinez @migueloharaslxt @obi-mom-kenobi​ @allysunny​ @viriexo @futuristicpandakid ​ @louderfortheback @tomhollandisabae @itzsab @blue-pears-blog @geraskier-thots @saintskully @johnny-pie @keenzinemugstudent @rizahawkeye1380 @realalpacorn @prettylittlebrowngirl​ @leahnicole1219​ @i-feel-violated @fandom-ash @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @marcswife21 @the-silvercrow @erissco @stqrlightrs

[lake-cosay]

Jesslake Demigod/PJO AU

hi so. finally making a real post about this.

i apparently made this au like 2 years ago but the pjo brainrot came back and i've been hyperfixating on this au again. while it does also feature my OCs this post is about the jesslake au

for clarity, this au takes place in the world of the Percy Jackson books, and assumes the canon story of the books is finished. it takes place in about 2020 (pjo canon is currently around 2011 ish). You don't need to have read the books to understand the au (I haven't) but. some knowledge of the universe will definitely help

most of my notes about the au are in the images, but here's a rough timeline of the major events: (it's long)

Jesse is born in 2005. he is raised by his mom and his mortal/adoptive father, whom he knows isn't his bio dad but treats him like it anyways. he doesn't know he's a demigod or who his bio dad is

Lake and Tulip are born in 2006. they both struggle as babies, but Lake much more so; they nearly die. Hephaestus, their father, dips Lake in the River Styx, giving them the Curse of Achilles, though theirs works a little different (more details on that later/in another post)

Hephaestus sends Lake to Camp Half-Blood to be raised there. (Chiron serves as a father figure to Lake, and they actually get along pretty well.) Tulip never finds out she has a twin until she arrives at camp.

Lake lives at CHB their whole life growing up. Sometime around the age of 8-10ish, they encounter the flecs for the first time. In this au, they were people but were cursed to become monsters, and still hunt Lake relentlessly. Lake has a pretty gnarly scar from their first encounter.

When she's 13, Tulip finds out she's a halfblood and is brought to camp (have not figured out how/by who yet, open to ideas). One-one is an automaton her dad built for her, not sure about Atticus.

When they're 13, Lake decides they want to see the world. They leave camp mostly on a whim, but take enough time to pack a bag and leave a note for Chiron asking him not to try and find them. Chiron somehow (through the Oracle, and Apollo kid, idk) divines that Lake will bring another half-blood to camp safely, and he trusts Lake, so he doesn't try to find them.

Lake wanders on foot for about a month, heading southwest. Eventually, they end up in Arizona, where they meet and slowly become friends with Jesse. Jesse's parents are glad he's spending time with someone who's not his other friends, and they let Lake hang out at their house a lot. They (of course) know Jesse's a demigod, and start to suspect Lake might be too. (Lake also starts suspecting about Jesse)

The "man test" (or something very similar) happens after Jesse meets Lake, and Lake is there to witness it. However, Jesse's friends turn out to be monsters (were they monsters the whole time or did other monsters impersonate his friends? i don't know. lol) and Jesse and Lake have to go rescue Nate (from the underworld? from a monster's lair? somewhere else? again, i don't know)

After that quest, Jesse properly arrives at camp, and him and Lake become very close.

There's a small arc with Lake that I'm not sure where it fits, but here's works: the harrasment and attacks from the flecs are getting worse, and somehow during an attack Lake manages to kill them (Lake never wanted to kill them before because they used to be people, and somehow they know they won't come back like other monsters, so killing them is genuinely killing them). Lake still has to grapple with the fact that they were people and they killed them, but also that it was in self defense.

There's another more significant arc for Lake involving Hephaestus. Probably happens 2 ish years after they meet Jesse. Hephaestus... doesn't like Lake. It seems like he always wants Lake to prove themself to him, but Lake refuses. So instead, he forces them, by setting a trap. Lake nearly dies in his trap (a web of hot metal wires that tie them up like they're in a spider web, covering them in deep burns; it makes sense given Hephaestus' other myths I promise), thankfully, Lake is rescued by Tulip and Jesse. However, the whole thing is definitely traumatizing, and really solidifies in Lake that their dad is a fucking asshole. (me and @jesse-cosay wrote a fic of this, we're most likely going to post it soon!) (also, that scars from this are in the drawing, but they don't look as Bad as I want them too, I was struggling with making them look Bad enough)

Lake and Jesse have become friends with my OCs (Rain, child of Hypnos, and Kona, daughter of. Apollo. sort of. not quite. it's complicated. also Kona is Jesse's cousin!) over the past 2 years or so, and when one of them (Rain) ends up in the Underworld, they both go with the other (Kona) to help rescue them (I can definitely elaborate on that if people are interested, but it's very self indulgent lol)

okay, here's some random little things about this au:

Annabeth no longer has the most beads, Lake does. They have 13. Chiron made sure he collected the beads for them since they were brought to camp.

The other main characters are at camp too (mostly). Grace is the daughter of Aphrodite, Simon is the son of Ares, both have them have lived at camp since they were kids. Simon takes after Luke, thinking the gods should be taken down entirely.

Min is an Athena kid and Ryan is an Apollo kid

Alan Dracula is still basically the same. Chiron doesn't know how he can get into camp. Or if he's a monster. He just knows the deer helps protect campers, and that Lake loves him, so he leaves Alan be.

Lake used to have their own room (a repurposed guest room) in the Big House but now stays with Jesse in Cabin 3 (during the summer, the rest of the year they live with him in Arizona)

When Tulip arrived at camp people assumed she was a Demeter kid because of her name, quickly realized she definitely is not a Demeter kid

Lake has kicked Simon's ass in combat numerous times. It's very rare that Simon ever wins against them period. Simon hates Lake with a burning passion. He HATES that the tiny hephaestus kid can beat him up.

Jesse really doesn't like when people call Poseidon his dad, even if he knows it's true, because to him, his dad is Stephen Cosay, a mortal, who helped raise him and whom he loves.

with all that out there, please feel free to ask questions!!! i love this au so much and i would love to talk about it more. my ask box is open!!! or you can reply to this post. i'm going to reblog Yellow's art from this au and make sure it's tagged so you can find it. the tag is #it pjo au

[moonlightndaydreams]

Limbo Part 6

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader x Han Jisung

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9

Synopsis: Lee Minho is the mysterious new accountant at your workplace, and he seems to have his sights set on you. But things aren't so simple when your ex boyfriend Han comes back into the picture. Can you and Minho make it work, or will you get back with Han?

Spoiler: Happy ending, eventual poly minsung.

MDNI / smut

Chapter Summary: Minho takes you on a date. There is a turn of events. An angsty chapter.

A/n: I originally wrote this part of the story years ago before I got into fanfic. Interestingly, my main character’s name was Min (it was a coincidence). But I was inspired to write Han the drunk from the following song. (And in my head he looked like actor Woo Do-hwan) when I saw him in a scene where he was drunk.

Taglist: open.

A/n: this story may be familiar to some. It’s a rework of one of my older stories where I’ve now changed my fem lead to be reader.

CW: angst, reference to arousal and sexual touch.

Trigger Warning: this chapter refers to alcohol and alcoholism. There is a mention of a car accident and description of an intensive care hospital situation (not a major character). Vivid nightmare.

You felt the anticipation buzzing through you as Minho pulled into the small, unevenly paved parking space outside of your townhouse.

He could barely keep his eyes on the road the entire drive back to your place, so much so you thought he was going to crash the car at one point. It took all of your self control not to demand he pull over and let you climb on top of him. You did, however palm his erection through his pants with one hand, whilst exposing and playing with one of your breasts.

He’d been late to pick you up for your date, but he’d made up for it taking you to a cozy restaurant, where he gave you his undivided attention. That might have sounded simple, and you were sure Hyunjin would find it deeply underwhelming when you tell them at work. But for you it was perfect.

“I can’t wait to finally make love to you properly, y/n.” Minho said in the restaurant. It made your heart flutter. Sure you'd fucked, and sure you'd had tender moments. But it had always been rushed. Tonight you could take your time.

It had been raining earlier, but the sprinkling had stopped now, and so Minho took this chance to hop out of the car and make his way around to open your door for you. You both carefully walked up the little path, paved in the same haphazard, uneven fashion as the parking space. A fun little tripping hazard for you to navigate.

As you reached the bend in the path close to the porch, you could see the shape of a person as you rounded a shrub. There, sitting on your little bench under the porch light a figure sat, head buried in his hands.

Your heart sank, and that old feeling of dread began to bubble up through your chest. Han? You stood stiffly, but your shoulders slumped, and your arm fell to your side. Your handbag dangled on the ground.

Why was he here? Of all nights to turn up. Why tonight? Why?

Han slowly lifted his head. He looked like shit. Wearing his standard leather jacket, and black jeans. His skin was moist from the rain. Or could he have been crying? You couldn’t quite tell. He looked longingly, no, desperately, at you, as though they were begging, screaming for help.

He opened his mouth to say something, the words were on the tip of his lips. Then his gaze shifted to Minho, and an understanding dawned on him. Without even speaking a word, Han stood up and walked down the path towards you. You still hadn’t moved, and with one last look in your eye, he walked straight past you, bumping your shoulder. He was gone.

You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath and turned awkwardly and hesitantly to Minho. His expression was one of surprise and shock, and then confusion. You swore you heard him mumble “what the fuck is he doing here?”

You unlocked the front door with shaking hands. Once inside, you turned on the kitchen light and filled the kettle up to make cups of coffee. At this point Minho hadn’t said a word. Was he angry? What was he thinking? You felt ashamed. Minho seeing your ex boyfriend was the last thing you wanted to happen.

Awkwardness filled the air. Say something, y/n. You looked across to the living area. Minho was busying himself with his phone. He looked pissed. He glanced up catching your gaze. “I just need to make a phone call.” He stated and stepped back outside.

Oh fuck. What a mess. This won’t do. You had to explain to Minho who that was. You bit your lip and turned your attention back to making the coffees and peeked at your phone on the kitchen bench. Eleven missed calls? 

“God dammit, Han.” You muttered under your breath. You picked up the phone to clear the missed calls from your list, but they weren’t from him at all. They were from his sister, Mina.

Your thoughts jumped to the worst. You knew what he was like, and that was exactly the reason you didn’t want to be involved with him anymore. You felt sick in the pit of your stomach. What should you do? Should you call her back.

The sound of your phone ringing startled you, and you looked down at the screen. Mina, again. “Hello, Mina?” You said tentatively.

You were met with a hysterical voice on the other end.

“Y/n is that you?” 

“Mina, slow down. What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Is Han with you?”

“No. What’s happened?”

“Oh y/n.” Mina sobbed. “It’s Mom.”

Minho stepped back in just as you ended the call. He looked distressed. “Y/n,” he scratched his head. “Something’s come up. I… I gotta go.”

“Minho! Wait. I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s… Oh fuck.” You wailed.

Minho was by your side in a heartbeat, taking your hands in his. “Look. Do what you need to do okay. I’m sure Han’s okay. I’ll see you later.” He held your face in his hands for a moment. You couldn’t quite understand his tone, nor could you read his eyes. You didn’t have time to even think about that right now.

You needed to find Han.

————————————————

[Author’s Note: Aura never told Minho Han’s name?]

————————————————

It was late. Dark. Cold. You felt frantic and panicked. He wasn't picking up his phone. Again. Twenty calls straight to his mobile. You needed him to pick up. You needed him to come home.

You grabbed your handbag and jumped in the car. It was starting to rain. Tears streamed down your face. You felt a heaviness, a sadness in your chest. You felt like sobbing. But you couldn’t just yet, you needed to find him first.

Why was he always like this? Why couldn't he be like a regular boyfriend? Why did you have to pick a guy who turned out to be a drunk? Why were you such a fool? You felt ashamed.

You drove down the city street. Headlights from other cars warped and blurred as they reflected on the wet road. You parked your car in a side street. With no umbrella, you began your search.

This was becoming your new normal. Tuesday nights. Out in the dark. Looking for that fucked up loser. Your hair was sopping wet. Your black leather jacket brushed off some of the rain. You passed the regular shop fronts, takeaway food shops, a mini super market. The streets were still busy from people going out for dinner and leaving restaurants, heading back to their cars. Couples. Work colleagues still dressed in their office clothes. Happy, normal, people. Would they know you were a normal person too? A regular person who fell in love with a broken, hurting person.

You trudged up a slight hill and turned into a bar. The lights were dim and the air felt dense and hazy because of the rain outside and the warmth inside. The place was fairly empty. Was he here? This time you found him easy enough. Him and his best mate in the corner. His friend was a burly, guy who could hold his liquor and he wasn't as addicted as Han. His friend, Billy, could hold down a job, whereas Han, well... he lost his last one 3 weeks ago.

As you approached the table you realised Han was passed out. Not unusual. You leaned down over him, drops of water coming off of your hair and onto his flushed, sweaty face. He stank of bourbon.

You tried to shake him awake. He stirred ever so slightly and mumbled something you couldn't understand.

And then it hit you. A sudden realisation. You couldn't do this anymore. This recurring situation was hurting you. It was bringing you down to where he was. Hurt and broken. You couldn't help him anymore. He didn't want to help himself.

The frantic feeling had gone, and was replaced with a calmness, an acceptance. But it was only for a moment until that feeling inside you returned, that heaviness. The need to sob overwhelmed you and you could feel it rise up within your body. You let go of Han, stood back up and turned and walked away.

You didn't look back, although part of you wanted to. The voices and feelings inside you were pulling you, tearing you in a thousand directions, but this one voice, your soul, a quiet inner voice, whispered "it’s time to let go". It was the voice you decided to finally listen to.

As you hopped back in her car, you could finally let it out. The sobbing. It came loud and you body shook. You weren’t just sobbing for him anymore, you were sobbing for yourself, the self you had lost to him. You were sorry to yourself for staying so long, and promised yourself then and there that you would always put yourself first.

————————

Now you were driving along searching for Han. Again. Like old times. Mina’s words replayed in your mind as you drove through the night. 

“Mom’s in hospital… She was in a car accident, y/n.. we don’t if she’s going to make it!” 

You let out a deep sigh. You had been holding your breath and your body was tense. Your hands shook and your knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. Your heart was pounding. 

Mina had said Han had disappeared and they couldn’t contact him. They were worried about him, especially since he was sober these days. You were worried too. Should you have told Mina that Han was waiting at your house?

You took a left hand turn into the same street that you found Han that last time. The last time you’d spoken to him. The night you decided you’d had enough and that you deserved better.

But tonight was different. An exception. You needed to help Mina, you needed to help their Mom. Oh how could this have happened to her? A car had hit her whilst at a pedestrian crossing, the driver still not found. You cast her mind back to when you used to visit her when you were with him. A lovely, caring woman. A Mother Hen. She would cook a great big dinner, making sure everyone was full and happy. 

Deciding to continue the search on foot, you pulled the car over to the side of the road and grabbed your cardigan to help shield you from the night air.

The light sprinkling had stopped and the night sky was  beginning to clear. You felt so bad for having to cut the evening short with Minho. He acted so strange, and left so abruptly.

But you couldn’t dwell on that. You could make up for it later. You could explain yourself better, later. Mina was at the hospital, she needed someone to help find Han, and that someone was you.

You checked all the places you could think of. Asked the bartenders if they had seen him. They knew him well, but no one had seen him.

“Sorry, y/n,” Simon from the Oxet said, voice raised above the noise of the patrons. 

“I haven’t seen him. Haven’t seen him a long time actually”. He gave a customer some change and came over to where you were standing at the end of the bar. “I heard he’s sober these days”. Simon spoke in hushed tones now he was closer to you. “Yeah, Bobby was talking about him a couple of months back.” Mina hadn’t mentioned any of this. 

An image flashed in your mind of Han on your doorstep earlier that night. He wasn’t drunk. He was upset. He had nowhere to go. You shook that thought out of your mind. You didn’t need to feel guilty. He did have somewhere to go. Somewhere to be. With his sister, with his mom, not your fucking front porch! “God damn you, Han” you uttered under your breath.

After an hour of trying every bar you could think of, you decided to give up. Maybe he had gone back to the hospital? You decided to send Mina a text message. It was too late to call. You took in a big, deep breath and exhaled slowly. You had done all you could. All you could do now was hope that Han was somewhere safe and that he was okay.

The night sky was now completely clear, and the moon shone bright, reflecting on the patches of wet road. You were almost back to you car, but instead of hopping in, you kept walking ahead. You hadn’t checked the cafes, or the park. You had just assumed that he’d be getting drunk. 

It was late, but a lot of the cafes still had lingering patrons who were enjoying late night coffees. Laughing, smiling. Happy people. Han wasn’t here either.

You felt tired, rubbing your hands on your face. You were about to give up for good, but your eye caught a figure over in the park across the street. There was someone sitting on a bench, back towards you. A familiar black leather jacket and mop of black hair. Han.

You raced across the road, closer. Yes, it was definitely Han. Sitting alone. Sitting still, head down, deep in thought. Or asleep? You approached slowly and carefully. Beside him sat a brown paper bag. Spirits? Your heart sank. Had he been drinking?

As if he could sense you, Han looked up. His features showed he was surprised to see you. But it only lasted a moment before returning to a solemn expression.

Feeling uncertain, you sat beside him on the bench and looked at him intensely, trying to get a sense of what was going on for him. He didn’t smell like he’d been drinking. His cheeks were still moist though and his eyes red. 

Your heart felt like it was breaking for him.

“Oh Han,” you managed to say. The first time you had spoken to him in so long. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you say? So you put your arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

You could tell he was unsure, he tensed up, uncertain of the closeness between you. But after a moment, his guard dropped and he leaned his head down on your shoulder. His sobs grew louder and his chest heaved. He was heartbroken. He was devastated. He needed someone to be there for him. And in this moment, it was you. 

You let him cry for as long as he needed and when he was calm he finally spoke. “It’s all my fault, y/n.” he finally said. You removed your arm from around his shoulder and held your hand over his own that was resting on his thigh. 

“Han,” you squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture.

“It wasn’t your fault. Please don’t beat yourself -”

Han shook his head. “I was meant to pick Mom up from her appointment, and I was held up at the…” He swallowed hard and raised his face to the night sky. He blinked back more tears and let out a big sigh.

“If I had got there in time…”

“Look, let’s go the hospital. Your family needs you, Han” you whispered. You hoped you could convince him to go. They needed to stick together. Mina needed his support.

“I’ll drive you.” 

Han nodded and together you walked in silence back to your car.

----------------------

You drove to the hospital mostly in silence. You could feel his eyes on you as you drove. Every time you glanced over to him he was watching you. You wanted to say something to comfort him, but you still couldn’t find the words.

“That guy you were with, how do you know him?” Han broke the silence.

Out of all the things he could have said, after an entire year of not seeing each other, that was what he asked?

“Han… He’s just someone I work with. It’s… it’s nothing.” You snapped. But your mind flashed back to what felt like some recognition between Han and Minho. No, they couldn’t know each other, surely?

It didn’t take long to arrive at the hospital, and the pair made their way to intensive care. It wasn’t hard to find Mina, sitting beside their Mother’s bed, holding her hand, head resting beside her on the mattress.

Standing in the doorway, you urged Han to go in and be with them, and slowly, hesitantly he did.

He moved a chair over beside his sister, who groggily raised her head. A look of relief flowed over her expression and she grabbed his hand, her other hand still holding their Mother’s. 

Their Mother lay unconscious, tubes and masks attached to her face and body, machines bleeping all around. You felt helpless in this moment. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what Mina and Han were going through. Grief, hope, fear? It probably felt like a nightmare they couldn’t wake up from. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you slowly exhaled. You had done all you could. This, being here at the hospital, this wasn’t your place. Han and Mina have each other now, and so you quietly left.

--------------------

You tossed and turned that night. You couldn’t sleep. And when you did you kept dreaming about car accidents and hospitals. The worst one was of you walking down the footpath and suddenly a car loses control and mounts the kerb, hitting you.

The impact sends you flying through the air and landing with a thud on the floor of the bar that you found Han passed out in that last time you searched for him. Except you were lying on the floor, Han crouching over you. Hair wet from rain, skin flushed from alcohol. “I am sorry, y/n, I didn’t see you… It’s all my fault.” You could feel a warm wetness oozing from the back of your head. Blood. It was on Han’s hands too. “I’m sorry” he kept saying. Frantically. Hysterically. Shaking you, trying to keep you awake, he just kept repeating himself “I’m sorry”.

You woke up startled. Panting, catching your breath. The skin on the back of your head and neck was warm and wet. Sweat. And you were alone. 

The sun was streaming through the window. Six o’clock. Shit.

Despite the lack of sleep, you got up and started to go about getting ready for work. You took a warm shower and ate a piece of toast, and tried to keep Han out of your mind. But images of him from last night kept creeping in. He didn’t deserve this to happen, sober or not, what happened was a tragedy.

You hadn’t dared look at your phone yet. You didn’t want to be greeted with any bad news. You’d give Mina a call on your drive to work. You hopped into the car and mindlessly threw your bag on the passenger seat, where it tipped over spilling your phone and purse onto the floor. 

“Shit” you mumbled to yourself. You leaned over and fumbled around for the phone and purse, but your fingers brushed against a papery texture. Han’s bottle of booze. You sat back up gripping the paper bag and its contents. It felt full. You untwisted the paper bag and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels? Unopened. 

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes. Han was sober? Of course. You didn’t recall any odour of alcohol when you held him close on the park bench. You knew too well what he smelled like after a night of drinking. Actually the smell became just his everyday, permanent smell. You wrinkled your nose, shaking the memory out of your mind. You looked down at the bottle again. Part of you was in awe that he resisted the temptation. In the past, a bottle like this could have been drunk by him easily. He really had changed. 

Tears started to prickle your eyes. You’d abandoned him. That night in the bar. Left him there, on the floor semi passed out. 

You dug around on the floor again and found your phone. You needed to check in and see if everything was okay.

You surprisingly got to work on time despite the fog of fatigue and worry clouding your head. Luckily, today you could work on autopilot. A meeting at 9.30 to 10.30 and then you were going to take a break and stop by Mina’s house to get a few bits and pieces for her.

Mina and Han hadn’t left the hospital, they wanted stay by their Mom’s side in case of any change. They were taking it turns while the other took a quick nap. Deep down you knew that this might not be appropriate. Who were you to get involved in a family crisis? You really didn’t have a place to do that. Was it guilt that compelled you to help? Or the kindness of your heart? You weren’t quite sure. The lines were blurred.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @yaorzu-blog @drunkewok @igetcarriedawaywithyou @minh0scat

[mads-nixon]

Epiphany Pt. 16: Castles Crumbling

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: Castles Crumbling (feat. Hayley Williams): Taylor Swift

A/N: Sorry in advance for breaking hearts with this one, guys. Be prepared for some angst...sorry Jess! (@footprintsinthesxnd) Remember, this is all according to the master plan. this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Unexpected events threaten to send members of Easy past their breaking point.

JANUARY 11, 1945: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM: 2200HRS

The cold seemed to seep into Lewis’ ODs as he sat in his freezing foxhole. The only semblance of warmth that clung to him came from (y/n)‘s shaking figure in his arms. Earlier that day, Nix finally reached (y/n), and her pure anguish broke his heart more than he thought possible. Each cry was like a stake being driven further and further into his chest.

The couple spent most of the day relaxing in (y/n)‘s hole in silence, just taking in each other’s company. She sometimes spoke of Skip and Alex if a certain memory came into her mind, and tears often accompanied such stories. Nix held her close and listened intently, hating the helpless feeling that filled him. There was nothing he could do to ease her pain other than be there with her, and it was hard for him to bear.

If there was one thing Lewis Nixon was not, it was someone who sat back and did nothing. Was he a borderline alcoholic? Maybe. But would he ever sit back and watch those he loved struggle alone? Never.

The January day had ticked by slowly, and by late afternoon, Lew convinced (y/n) to move to his foxhole for a little bit of space from the line, hoping it would help distance herself from the shelling that had stolen two of her best friends. With her head slouched against Lew’s shoulder, she slept soundly, her mouth open as soft snores left her lips in small icy clouds.

Ice crunched nearby, and Nix looked up to see Dick crouching beside their foxhole. “Hey,” he whispered, looking down at the (y/h/c) with a concerned frown. “How’s she doing?”

Lew quietly sighed and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Better. Not great…but better. She agreed to go back to the hospital tomorrow.”

Dick nodded softly, “Good. I talked to Doc today while you were gone. He said it might take up to a month for her arm to fully heal.”

Eyes flicking up to the redhead’s, Nixon’s heart dropped into his stomach. Of course, he was more than happy that (y/n) was finally getting the help she needed, but a lot could happen in a month.

“I know.”

“She’ll be okay, Nix,” Winters urged, his voice slightly shaking as a harsh gust of wind swept through his thin coat. “And she’ll be back in no time.”

Lew shook his head and leaned it back against the frozen dirt wall of his hole. “I don’t know if she’ll make it in a hospital by herself after losing Skip and Alex. She won’t know anyone or-”

“Lew,” Dick interrupted softly. “She can’t stay here and we both know that. The best thing for her is to go tomorrow.”

“I know that. It doesn’t stop me from worrying, though.”

Before Dick could respond, a voice called out from behind him. “Captain Winters.”

Lieutenant Dike.

Nix and Dick shared a loaded glance, and both Captains had to refrain from rolling their eyes. Dike hadn’t reported to them in almost four days, and in those four days, the Company had lost two of its most important members. As the lieutenant approached the trio, his eyes drifted down to the woman in Lewis’s arms. He seemed to be momentarily confused as he stared with narrowed eyes.

Catching his glare, Dick stood and ushered him toward the tent with a hand on his shoulder. “What can I help you with, Lieutenant?”

Nix’s eyes followed them as they disappeared into the makeshift shelter, and anger swirled in his stomach. A good leader should respect their men, lead by example, and try to keep up with how each one is doing. Dike did none of this. In fact, he did the opposite. Men in his company had been killed, and their deaths greatly affected company morale, but he couldn’t care less. The lieutenant was away more than he was around, and when he was, he didn’t do much. It was a well-known fact that the NCOs were the ones holding the company together.

In the silence, (y/n) stirred, a low groan escaping her lips.

“Hey,” he murmured, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on her back. “You okay?”

She winced, her eyes fluttering open with a hint of discomfort. “My head’s pounding and my throat feels like sandpaper,” she rasped. “It’s probably from all the crying.”

Lew reached for his canteen, unscrewing the cap. “Take a sip and then try to go back to sleep. It might help.”

He held the canteen up to (y/n)‘s lips, guiding it gently as she took a few sips. Leaning back against his shoulder with a sigh, she nuzzled into his warmth. “What time is it?”

“10:30. Dike just showed up to talk to Dick,” Nix replied, checking his watch.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Now he shows up. After all that’s happened? What a joke.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lew sighed. “I’m glad you won’t have to deal with him during the assault.”

Her swollen eyes peered up at him. “I’m worried for the guys,” she said softly. “He’s gonna lead them to their deaths, Lew, and I know don’t think I could take it after…”

“Dick will take care of them the best he can,” he replied, rubbing her upper arm gently. “They’ll be alright.”

“I hope so,” she yawned, laying her head back on Nix’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go back to sleep now.”

He chuckled lowly and leaned down to place a kiss on her hairline. “Goodnight. Wake me up if you feel any worse, alright?”

(Y/n)‘s eyes were already drifting closed as she mumbled, “Yes, captain. Love you.”

“I love you, too. Now go to sleep.”

JANUARY 12, 1945: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM: 0300HRS

When Lew woke up, the air surrounding the foxhole was silent, and the covering atop the hole kept any unwanted snow from falling on the couple as they slept. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and looked around blearily. Everything seemed to be alright, but he was surprisingly warm.

He had not been warm in almost a month.

As soon as the thought circled in his brain, he realized with a start that the intense heat was coming from beside him. Looking down at (y/n) curled into his chest, Lew cursed, noticing the way she seemed to be radiating so much heat that he was sweaty just from being pressed against her. (Y/n), however, was drenched in sweat. Her (y/h/c) hair was plastered to her forehead and neck, and uncontrollable shivers wracked her body, causing her to tremble even in the unusual warmth of the hole.

“(Y/n)?” Lew mumbled, wiping the sweaty hair off her forehead. Her skin was hot to the touch, and it was then that he knew something was very wrong.

“Sweetheart? Wake up,” he said more urgently, shaking her shoulder gently. Panic gripped him when her only response was a weak groan and rapid eye movement under her closed lids.

Lew’s heart clenched in his chest as he tapped her cheeks lightly. “(Y/n/n), come on, wake up,” he begged, his mind racing. “Please wake up.”

No response.

The night air was pierced by Lew’s urgent call, “Dick!” His voice carried the weight of his panic as he threw the cover off their foxhole. Within seconds, Winters ran into view and dropped down into their hole with a thud.

“What’s wrong, Lew?” Dick asked, concern etched across his face.

“I don’t know, Dick! She’s burning up and completely out of it. Something’s wrong,” Lew exclaimed hoarsely as he sat (y/n) up against the side of the foxhole.

Dick swiftly assessed the situation, and a sudden realization flashed across his face as he reached for her arm. He removed (y/n)‘s sock glove, revealing a swollen and red hand adorned with a speckled rash that extended from her cast down to her fingertips.

Lew’s reaction was immediate, a string of curses escaping his lips as he almost pushed Dick out of the hole. “Go get Roe, Dick, now! And hurry!”

As he hurried away, Lew continued to try and wake her up. He cupped her face softly, his thumb running over her cheekbone. “We’re gonna get you help, alright. You’re gonna be fine.”

(Y/n)‘s eyes fluttered open for a moment and Lew could see the cloud of fever in her usually lively (y/e/c) irises. “Hey, (y/n/n). Can you hear me?”

“Lew?” she muttered shakily as her teeth chattered together from the chills racking through her body. Her mind was in a state of delirium as she called out for him, and even in her feverish state, she longed for his comforting presence.

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart,” he whispered, his throat closing up with emotion. “Dick’s getting Doc. They’ll be here soon.”

The sweat beading from her forehead was a stark contrast to the frigid temperatures around them, and Lew noticed her trembling getting even worse. Without a second thought, he began to take off his coat and wrap it around (y/n), along with his beanie and anything else he could find to keep her warm.

The cold bit at Lew’s skin as he stripped off his winter clothing, but he didn’t seem to feel it. His only concern was the woman before him in dire need of help. His mind involuntarily flashed back to the last time they were in this position…

“You’re gonna be okay, you hear me?” Nix’s voice quivered, but he fought to keep it steady. “You’re gonna be fine, sweetheart.”

Roe skidded next to her and shoved Lew aside as he began to assess and treat (y/n). Her trembling hand shot out, desperately grabbing onto Nix’s.

“Lew,” she croaked through her tears, her voice filled with fear. “I’m scared.”

He cupped her cheek gently, his touch tender. “I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m here.”

The similarities were eerie, and Lew found himself doing something he didn’t do. He began to pray.

“Please, God…” he whispered into her neck as he tugged (y/n) close to his body. “My mother says that you listen, and I’m depending on that right now. Get her through this. I love her…please. ”

It was a raw, emotional plea that came from the depths of his heart. If there was one thing he cared about in this stupid war, it was her. If she was taken from him, he didn’t know how long he would last.

She would be his breaking point.

He didn’t get to finish the thought because Dick returned with Roe. Eugene’s eyes widened as he took in the scene: Nixon, clad in only his thin ODs, shivering alongside (y/n), who was covered in his clothes. Gene exchanged a glance with the Captain, his expression a blend of worry and disapproval.

“I woke up to her shaking and burning up. She complained of her throat and head hurting earlier, but I didn’t think anything of it,” Lewis interjected quickly, his words rushing out in a mix of frustration and worry.

Without hesitation, Roe hopped down into the foxhole, swiftly gathering all the extra clothes that were attempting to warm (y/n), and tossed them back on Nix.

“Put these back on. The last thing we need is you getting hypothermia,” Gene urged, his breath coming out in rapid puffs, winded from the sprint to the couple.

As Lew quickly complied and layered himself once again, Gene set to work. He first started his examination by gently lifting (y/n)‘s eyelids. The pale moonlight revealed the redness of her cheeks, the pallor of her skin contrasting sharply with the usual warmth that marked her complexion.

Lew anxiously watched every move Gene made, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. Gene pressed his fingers to (y/n)‘s uncasted wrist, checking her pulse, and then moved on to feeling her forehead once more.

Gene muttered to himself as he worked, “Fever is high, and her pupils are reactive but sluggish. She’s probably dehydrated, too.”

Dick and Lew shared a helpless glance, and the redhead placed a steadying hand on Nix’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

Roe looked visibly frustrated as he carefully examined (y/n)‘s hand. “Damn it, I knew this would happen!”

“What, Doc?” Lew questioned anxiously.

“She’s got an infection, and it looks like a pretty nasty one, too. We need to get her back to the hospital and get some penicillin in her system. I don’t have any here,” Gene explained, his diagnosis sending a pang of guilt through Nix.

He shouldn’t have let it get that bad. He should have made her go back sooner.

“I wish I could take this thing off, but I don’t think my scissas' will do it,” Doc grimaced, gently prodding the skin around the end of the cast. “The infection’s probably from moisture stuck under the cast. With this fever…”

The Cajun looked up at Winters with wary eyes that said everything the Captain needed to know. “We need a jeep…now,” Gene called out, and Dick jumped up and ran for the nearby radio. “Without antibiotics, she could go into septic shock, and there’s no recovering from that.”

Lew’s hand instinctively reached for her good one, wrapping his gloved hands around hers. He rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of her hand. He didn’t know whether it was for himself or for (y/n), but what he did know was that his insides were twisting with guilt, the pang growing into a constant ache. The fears he had quelled the previous day came raging back, and all he could see was the worst-case scenario in his mind. The vivid images almost stole his breath.

They were the same ones he’d had since she was first shot: Nix standing above a blanketed figure lying on a cot in a dark and bloody aid station, feeling like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He closed his eyes and brought her frail hand up to his lips, the same way she’d done the day before as he reminded himself that she was alive…for now.

“This is Captain Winters. I need a jeep to 2nd Battalion CP for casevac, now!” Dick yelled into the receiver. A few moments passed, and then he was beside them again. “They’re on their way.”

During the whole interaction, Lew was frozen. The voices around him faded into background noise, and his gaze was stuck on (y/n). The situation weighed heavily on him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have acted sooner. A hand on his shoulder brought the voices back into focus.

“Help me get her out of here,” Doc said quickly, breaking Nixon from his trance.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, his eyes not leaving (y/n). “Yeah.”

His hands trembled slightly as he reached down to carefully lift her from the foxhole. Gently cradling her in his arms, he could still feel the heat radiating from her fevered body like he did when he first awoke. He quickly carried her past the shelter to the area where the jeep would arrive.

“Fight, sweetheart,” he whispered down to her. “Fight for me, alright? I love you.”

The trio heard the jeep before they saw it. There was the hum of an engine, followed by headlights in the distance that cut through the darkness. Nix rushed to the jeep as Roe ran past him and hopped into the back of the jeep beside the awaiting stretcher. Lew’s jaw tightened as he carefully placed her on the stretcher.

The engine hummed to life as the jeep prepared to depart, and Nix reluctantly stepped back, his eyes never straying from (y/n)‘s prone figure. Gene’s eyes briefly met his, and the Doc nodded, sharing a silent agreement that she would be taken care of.

Nix stood there, numb and motionless, staring at the fading lights of the departing jeep. The crunch of the ice beneath its tires was the only sound filling the night air. The bitter cold gnawed at his exposed skin, but it was the icy grip of guilt that truly chilled him to the core. Dick approached cautiously, trying to offer comfort, but Lew’s anger erupted before he could utter a word.

“I should have made her go. If I did she wouldn’t ha-” his voice cracked with regret, the weight of guilt pressing down on him.

“Nix,” Dick attempted to intervene, but Nix cut him off.

“No, it’s my job to keep her safe, Dick,” he yelled, pointing at himself. “And I can’t even do that.”

“You can’t control everything-”

“But I could control this,” he interrupted. “I could have ordered her to go back and we’d have avoided all this. She’d probably be back in a few weeks, but now I-,” Lew cut himself off as he placed his hands on his hips, trying to keep his composure. His eyes lowered to his boots, and the fury disappeared in his voice. “I don’t even know if she’s coming back. If she doesn’t, Dick-”

Winters placed a comforting hand on Nix’s shoulder as he interrupted him. “She will.”

Eyes rising to meet Dick’s, Lew found more worry than he’d ever seen reflected in the stark blues. Although he was a master at disguising his true emotions, especially in front of the men, Lewis could see right through it.

Would Dick put on a show for the men?

Sure.

But he never put one on for Nix.

For once, the redhead’s words were not as strong and resolute as normal. Doubt flickered in his pale irises, and the sight made Nix question everything. The two things he could always count on were (y/n) being by his side, and Dick being the reliable word of advice and honesty. At that moment, both the pillars of Lewis Nixon’s steadfast support system began crumbling around him.

Contrary to Dick, Lew was accustomed to shielding his every thought from others…a side effect of his affluent but rocky upbringing. It was mainly a result of his father’s constant anger and need to lash out at his family, which Lew often took the brunt of for his mother and sister as he got older.

“Yes, sir,” became a hollow phrase in the Nixon household, and the young Nixon children became masters of masking their expressions with whatever was needed to get through the situation. It was a skill that Lew used daily as an intelligence officer, but this time, he hated the fact that he had to use it on his best friend.

“Yeah,” Lew nodded slowly, his emotional exterior hardening slightly. “She’s tough. She’ll be alright. Thanks, Dick.”

Slapping him on the shoulder lightly, Nix took a deep breath and made his way to his hole, regret filling him for more than one reason. He plopped down into the hole roughly, throwing the cover over it a moment later. Once out of view, he dropped his face into his hands, trying to calm his racing heart. Every time he closed his eyes, his fears made themselves known, and he longed for the one thing that could numb the growing storm inside of him. Eyeing (y/n)‘s discarded helmet in the corner of the hole, he grabbed it and held the cold metal in his lap. He stared at it for a moment as he contemplated his decision.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, placing the helmet back in its place in the corner. Nix removed the cover and went toward the radio. He brought the receiver up to his mouth and ear, ignoring a few confused looks from Dick.

“This is Captain Nixon,” he began. “I need a jeep to Regiment at the 2nd Battalion HQ.”

That night, Lewis Nixon found himself in the lonely officer’s mess, his only company the empty whiskey bottles scattered on the old, beat-up table in front of him. The familiar burn momentarily took away the pain, and the numbness welcomed him back like an old friend finally coming home from a long absence.

Tag List: @softguarnere @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson @hxad-ovxr-hxart @merriell-allesandro-shelton @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @titiglt @stvrkdream @multifandomfanfic @starlordsatellite @blvestxr @iceman-kazansky @bucky32557038ww2 @sofietargaryen @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @xxluckystrike @krispybearbouquet @valhallavalkyrie9

[ivystoryweaver]

Decadent chapter 14: FINALE

prev || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: An accident in the lab - and Miguel has missed what was right in front of his face (that's you)

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Content: nsfw, 18+ , some angst, unprotected p in v, grinding, scratching, biting, blood consumption, bondage, rough sex, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

“That’s why I want you to live here with me.” Seeing your eyes go wide, he squeezed your hands. "You can keep your apartment if you want. I'll even pay for it. But..." His eyes dipped almost shyly as he exhaled in a rush. "I love you. So...move in with me?"

"Of course I will. I love you," you confessed. "But..." Caressing his fingers, you swallowed hard, but held his gaze bravely. "First, I need you to tell me where you go all weekend."

FINALE

Spiderman 2099's unstable molecule fabric suit stretched itself across his defined muscles. His heavy cape unfurled behind him. With a sudden leap, he glided across New York - or at least this universe's version of New York, prepared to make sure this universe's timeline didn't somehow collapse.

"Uhhh, boss?" Lyla chimed, appearing in the air, near his head as he floated through the sky.

"Kinda busy, can't it wait?"

"No. You programmed me to let you know if your girlfriend were to ever be in danger, soooo she’s in danger," she fired back.

Miguel aimed for a low rooftop and came to a tumbling stop.

"Where is she? What's wrong?" Miguel had a timeline to attend to, but if you were in danger...

"There was an explosion in the lab - "

Lyla said nothing more before Miguel was quite literally tearing through the fabric of time to get back to you.

His virtual assistant may have overstated the danger you were in. When he arrived at the lab, he realized there had been a very small explosion. More of a misfire of sorts -

...which wasn't the major issue. The reason Lyla interrupted Miguel's mission soon became clear to him.

This was the part of the lab with the spiders. The explosion had destroyed some of the spiders and freed the rest. They must have scurried away. But you were lying on the floor amidst debris, unconscious, with a huge, angry spider bite on your hand.

You were bit by a radioactive spider.

"It can't be," he whispered, rushing to your side and checking you over frantically. Thankfully, you were breathing, but unconscious.

"Baby, what happened?" He gasped, pulling you into his arms and rocking you gently. Pressing a fierce kiss to your forehead, he murmured against your skin.

"This isn't supposed to happen. I'm Spider-Man here. I'm Spider-Man...how..."

Horrible dread filled Miguel's heart.

If this world already had a Spider-Man, that meant this spider bite wasn't going to turn you into a spider woman. It would most likely either kill you or turn you into a villain.

How could he possibly have missed this? How did he not see this coming?

First things first: he wanted to make sure you were okay. Which one of these spiders bit you? They were all radioactive, so in that regard, you were fucked. But it was nothing venomous...right?

Miguel placed you on a lab table and got to work, analyzing your condition and reaction to the bite, drawing your blood, watching you closely for signs of venom - rashes, difficultly breathing -anything to explain why you were unconscious.

He simultaneously had Lyla pull up everything on you - anything that could explain why you would have been bitten by a radioactive spider and he didn't see it coming, as some sort of canon event. Maybe it was just a freak accident. After all, you worked in a dangerous, experimental lab daily.

But Miguel knew the universe. The multi-verse, even. There were no accidents. Ever.

Your Aunt Jessina practically raised you, at least since your parents died at age 12. Miguel had even met Jess.

"Wait, what the hell?" Miguel gasped. Your Aunt Jess actually adopted you and changed your name. And her name.

As Lyla untangled well-hidden files, she discovered that Jess' name was Jessina May Parker. The sister of a scientist named Richard Parker.

Your last name used to be Parker?

Aunt Jess married a man named Ben, who also died. She took his name and completely abandoned the name Parker. You took Ben's last name as well. It was as if Jess wanted to erase any memory of her brother Richard, as well as the name Parker.

But Jess knew what she was doing. The paper trail was virtually nonexistent. One would have to know what to look for and exactly how to look, to find it. And Miguel simply wasn't looking for any spider-related canon events in this timeline because he was Spider-Man.

As Lyla dug deeper, the connections became obvious.

You were raised by your Aunt (Jessina) May. Your Uncle Ben died. Your parents - the Parkers, died behind a veil of secrecy.

Your friend's name was Gwen.

The guy with a crush on you? Jackson Watson. Mitchell Jackson Watson. He went by 'MJ' Watson as a child.

Your life read like a pretty common spider story. So...you were meant to be a spider. That meant he was the wrong spider in the wrong place. Typical. No wonder his entire existence felt...well, wrong. Until he met you...

Now he just had to wait for you to wake up.

You eyes fluttered weakly, struggling to open. You inhaled sharply - shakily, feeling like your skin was on fire.

"Corazón?" Miguel gasped, gently tracing your jaw with his fingertips. "Hey..."

"W-what happened?" you croaked, your throat parched and your lips dry.

"You were bit by a spider. Scared me to death- how are you feeling?” He gently questioned.

"Everything hurts,” you coughed out, struggling to sit up. "Was it poisonous?"

"Take it easy. Just lie still. Let me take care of you,” he softly admonished. "I’m running some tests but you don't seem to be having an allergic reaction. I don’t think that’s what’s happening here."

You moaned in agony, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. "My head is pounding- my skin hurts, Miguel please...”

“It’s okay, baby - "

“Please take me home,” you whimpered. “I-I don’t feel good.”

Miguel explained to you that he wasn’t quite done with the tests he was running in the lab, not to mention the headache of dealing with the accidental explosion and confidential cleanup. So you endured nearly an hour of waiting on an uncomfortable lab table until Miguel felt satisfied with your test results.

Then he carried you to the car, held you close in the back seat, and took you to his home.

Well...hopefully soon to be your home. Miguel had asked you to move in, but you wanted complete honesty from him first. This was way more than working together, sleeping together, or even being exclusive. Miguel loved you and wanted to start a life with you.

He had asked you for one more weekend and then promised to show you all his secrets first hand. This gave you pause, but he explained it would be easier to show you than to explain it to you.

The Spider Society was meant to be a secret, so Miguel honestly wanted to let a few people there know what was going on - how serious he was about you, and how much he trusted you.

Now, it seemed you would not only learn of the Spider Society as Miguel's girlfriend, but as a spider yourself.

Your transformation into a spider wasn't an easy one, but not atypical of other transitions Miguel had heard about and witnessed. Of course, his personal transition was a different type of lab accident, and he was quite the unique spider.

Still, your whimpers of agony tormented him all night as you clung to him, clenching his t-shirt in your firsts, begging him to hold you, to stay with you.

He groaned as you shifted against his body, pulling yourself on top of him.

"Why does it feel like this?" You cried, you lips brushing his throat. "Please make it stop, Miguel, please."

He must have whispered a hundred soothing Spanish whispers and pet names into your ear, promising you he was there - that you were safe, and this would pass.

As you drifted off into a fitful slumber, he wondered how you would ever forgive him for letting this happen to you - for not seeing it coming.

The next morning, you woke up in his arms, feeling much better. And bizarre. A trip to the bathroom later, and your new life started to make itself known.

You tried to brush your teeth, but accidentally snapped the thing in half. Next, you broke the toilet handle when you went to flush, which, made you flinch in surprise, sending your hand slamming into the counter's edge - taking the corner right off as it smashed to pieces.

"Oh my god!' you shrieked, "Miguel?" you called out, rushing back toward the bedroom, only to collide with his solid chest…

…which somehow sent him stumbling backward. All six foot, nine inches or your massive wall of a boyfriend almost lost his balance after you ran into him.

“Miguel? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He grasped your arms to calm you down Damn, you were strong. “Let me explain, okay?”

So Miguel info-dumped absolutely everything about the Spider Society, the multi-verse and your spider powers. He even explained that you getting bit was apparently a “canon event” - a life and story similar to so many other spiders.

To say your mind was blown was an understatement. The fact that you had super powers now? Like super strength, amazing reflexes and possibly something called a spider sense, where you could sense danger coming?

Not to mention a lot other people had these same powers too but they were from other worlds.

You started to understand why it took Miguel so long to tell you where he went on weekends. It would have been difficult to grasp if it hadn’t happened to you personally.

You couldn't believe your eyes when Miguel actually took your hand and led you through a portal to another dimension. A psychedelic, seizure-inducing, multicolored portal, which might have been terrifying if it weren't so amazing.

When you got to this so called Spider HQ, you clung to his hand as you passed by several other people in skin tight suits that looked like Miguel's blue one, but more of them were primarily red.

Each person knew Miguel and seemed to defer to him or acknowledge him as the two of you passed by.

Lyla was there as well, chirping away, updating him on all things multiverse.

The biggest surprise came when you got to what appeared to be the heart of the operation, or perhaps Miguel's...office, containing a rather dramatic elevated platform surrounded by several computer screens.

"So this is where you go every weekend?" You asked him, nodding around you.

"Nights too, sometimes. When we're not together." He winked down at you.

You made a face. "Baby, when do you sleep?"

"He never sleeps," a familiar voice resounded behind you. "That's why he's so damn grumpy."

The multiverse got a lot weirder when you turned around and saw your neighbor's lookalike standing there in a black and white spider suit.

"Gwen?"

Seeing your neighbor/friend's doppelgänger was shocking enough, but Miguel knew it was time to head back to your own universe when you discovered, quite by accident, that you were the proud, new owner of organic webbing.

You accidentally shot a long roped web out of your wrist and shrieked in surprise, inadvertently firing off a few more before Miguel could explain to you what was happening. He knew it could be a possibility - some spiders made their webbing in the lab and wore the tech on their wrists - while others, like you, had organic webbing as a part of your altered DNA.

There was really no way to know for sure until it happened. The thought of spiderwebs flying out of your skin freaked you right the hell out, so Miguel took you home.

After explaining things to you and making you some Mexican food, he noticed you hadn't spoken or even looked at him since he poured your first margarita.

"Mi amor?" He gently prompted, reaching for your hand. "Talk to me."

As if simply waiting on an invitation, you dove right in.

"Why didn't you tell me about all this - about the other spiders?" You whispered. "I mean...this is huge."

"I know." His gaze dropped. "I wanted to, but the Spider Society - we don't really...advertise."

"I get that," you nodded understandingly, "But I'm not just your girlfriend. I'm your research partner. Don't you think it's pertinent to our research - all those other spiders? Didn't you think maybe this information could help you?"

"There are no other spiders like me. No one had the accident I had and no one...drinks blood."

"But we don't know - there could have been something," you argued. "A-and the fact that I was working around radioactive spiders every day?"

"Well...you did know about the spiders, to be fair," he reasoned.

"Maybe, but not that I would turn into a spider-person - and that there were other universes with...us out there. And Gwen - there's another Gwen?" You pulled your hand away during your confused and impassioned speech, running your fingers over your wrists where your spiderwebs had shot out.

"And now like - I'm part spider and I am completely freaked out, Miguel, d-do you understand that?"

His scarlet eyes found yours and he nodded. "I think I do. I definitely do."

Your eyed him sympathetically, understanding his meaning. This was the whole point of your research together - the reason you met. Miguel didn't want to be part vampire spider anymore, and he never wanted to need to drink blood again. He'd spent most of his life vexed by his very existence.

"I didn't mean for this to happen to you, mi amor - you have to believe that."

"I know," you sniffled. "But what about me? Are you...friends with another me - somewhere out there? You and me - are we just carbon copies of - "

"No." Miguel's scarlet eyes swirled with uncertainty as his dark eyebrows arched pleadingly. "There is no one else like you. There never could be."

Seeing your hesitation and sensing your distress, he pushed off his barstool where you were seated at the kitchen island. Brushing his knuckles across your cheek, he struggled to find the right words as slivers of fear began to wind around his heart - a dread that somehow, he could lose you. "Corazon..."

"You're sure you haven't met a bunch of other me's?" You softly questioned, blinking up at him.

"Mi vida," he breathed, touching his forehead to yours as he stood between your legs - his hands spreading across your thighs.

With little effort, he lifted you off your barstool and set you on the counter top, easing closer until his body pressed against yours. Pulling your thighs around his waist, he shifted his hips before pressing his waiting mouth to yours.

You hummed against his lips, slipping your fingers around his neck to wind through his dark locks. He tasted you slowly, pushing his hands back up your spread thighs to grip your hips. Thrusting against you temptingly, he licked hotly into your mouth, but it didn't last long.

Touching his forehead to yours, the warmth of his breath enticed you closer, but he shook his head, murmuring your name. Miguel so often spoke through his body. Some of your wildest nights together stemmed from his anger and desperation.

One memory in particular came to mind - one Saturday in your apartment, when he admitted to you that his daughter had passed away. He tried to tell you more about it that day, but instead, he had pulled you against his body and kissed you so tenderly. You had taken him to your bed and that was the first time he was so sweet and deliberate with you.

Whispering his name, you brushed an errant lock of hair from his ruby gaze.

Shaking his head slightly, he inhaled, as if ready to speak, but somehow couldn't...stammering, instead, leaning into your touch. "I can't..."

"What," you murmured, twirling your fingers through the hair behind his ears.

"Lose you," he choked out, his gaze dropping to your lap.

Dragging your fingertips down his jawline, you lifted his face back up to yours. But you didn't answer - instead, sealing your mouth to his once more, pulling him closer still, and squeezing his torso with your thighs.

He responded hungrily, lifting you up to carry you to the nearest flat surface, which was the living room couch - his tongue tangling with yours urgently.

The two of you tumbled down, bodies pressed eagerly together as you rolled all the way down to the floor, grinding together for the friction you so desperately craved. So often, you searched for the connection needed through communication with your bodies.

It happened quickly - with both of you craving the intensity of your shared bond when your bodies joined. With only a few deliberate yanks of clothing off or aside, he pushed his way snugly inside you, the two of you a hopeless tangle of limbs and clothing.

But you wanted him closer stil. "Tear these," you pouted, pulling at your shoved-aside panties...

...but they ripped with the strength of your finger.

Before you could react, he obeyed your command, shredding the other annoying articles of clothing, easing down onto his back as your joined bodies continued a tantric rhythm.

He groaned as you worked your naked body over his cock, your tits bouncing, granting him his favorite view in all the universes he'd ever laid eyes on, or even imagined.

"Even if I met...another version of you somehow...it still wouldn't be you," he panted, running his hands all over your beautiful body.

Miguel had needed reassurance that he wouldn't lose you, but it was you doubting your uniqueness, and for the first time, you understood, even if only in part, why Miguel might feel like a freak or a monster.

A radioactive spider bite had altered your DNA and your body was a mystery to you now. You didn't know your own strength and the whole spiderweb thing really sent you...

But the biggest fear driving the vigorous use of his body beneath you was that he might discover another you somewhere.

"Tell me again," you whined, twisting your body down into his with brutal ferocity. "Tell me I'm the only one."

"F-fuck," he stuttered out - your newfound strength making his huge frame buck like a rag doll.

Wishing he could sit up and hold you while you came - to reassure you that you belonged to him, and that no one else ever could, Miguel instead found himself coming hard and instantly because he could not move - your strength rendering him incapable of lifting off the floor.

"Miguel, please," you gasped, digging your nails so hard into his chest that you drew blood, so close to your release but feeling that he'd already come inside you.

You kept on riding him even as he went soft, expecting his superhuman stamina to have him hard and ready for you soon, but you forgot one small factor:

He had to keep up with you now.

Your frustration and desperation came to a head and you finally stilled your movements, opening your eyes to find bloody streaks scraped into your boyfriend's massive chest.

Before you could even react or worry, Miguel trapped your wrists in his hands. "Está bien, cariño."

You gasped out his name, horrified, still unaware that you were literally pinning him down.

"I'm okay, it's okay," he assured you, pulling at your wrists. "Let me up."

"Oh god," you croaked, finally releasing him and staring at the angry red marks and trickles of blood. "I-I didn't mean to. I didn't even realize."

"Hey..." he caressed your cheek, readjusting as your bodies pulled apart. "Felt so good. I'm okay."

"But you're bleeding," you argued. "Look what I did..." You trailed off as he nodded, understanding, better than anyone, exactly how you were feeling right now. You hurt him - drew blood, surprising and horrifying yourself, only to have him come faster than ever, telling you how good it was.

Okay, so the tables had turned.

Miguel suggested the two of you go upstairs to clean up and get more comfortable, promising to clean up the Mexican feast tomorrow.

You were quiet - perplexed, mostly, but the tiny slivers of fear slipped back into Miguel's mind over what his lack of candor might ultimately mean for your relationship.

"Mi amor," he started again, just the way he had right after dinner. The two of you had showered and changed into pajamas even though it was hardly bedtime.

Gripping you by the arms, he ducked down closer to your height. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for this."

"It's not your fault," you reasoned, resting your palms against his chest. "How could it be?"

He simply shrugged, pulling you close to his chest for a hug. "I promise there's no one else like you," he whispered against your temple. "There are other Parkers, and other spiders, but no one else is like you."

Easing back, he took your face in his hands. "Every single person I've met - other Peters and other Gwens - none of them are exactly alike - they're all unique."

Pressing a soft kiss to your mouth, he rested his forehead against yours. "You can't honestly believe I could love anyone else."

He kissed you again, slotting his mouth against yours as his strong arms wound around your back. Then he took you to his bed and made you believe it.

Six weeks later...

Miguel turned out to be quite the capable coach - helping you understand your powers and practicing using them. He even encouraged the use of your spiderwebs outside the lab, reasoning that you needed to get used to them domestically.

A few pillows lost their stuffing and you shattered a teapot and a margarita glass, but, with practice, you adjusted.

This was an absolute must before working in the lab. Flying spiderwebs did not mix with delicate test tubes and beakers.

Your favorite part of training was when Miguel insisted you use his body for practice - testing your strength, agility and your webs while he taught you how to fight. It took you weeks to unleash your full strength on him. Your kick knocked him across a rooftop.

But when it came right down to it, he actually was bigger and stronger. Not by much. Your advantage came from your more powerful webs and your precognitive spider-sense.

Work had completely changed for the two of you, since you started focusing your time less on a cure for Miguel, and more on the needs of the Spider Society.

Miguel started to feel like maybe being a spider wasn't so bad. He used to feel alone, despite all the other spiders in the society - constantly wracked with guilt over the blood he took from others simply to sustain his life.

Then you came along - brilliant, beautiful and so full of life - challenging him at every turn - in the lab, in the bedroom. You knew what you wanted out of a career and you definitely knew what you wanted from a lover.

What started out as a wild bit of coworkers-with-benefits gave way to a twisted relationship of sorts - he used your body for pleasure and for feeding and -miracle of miracles - you loved it.

Craving the dark things he did to your body - the scratches of his talons, the puncture marks from his fangs, the weakness from blood loss and paralyzation - all while he used your body for his pleasure - it was a mirror to him of how much of a monster he really was.

But you showed him that person deserved love as much as anyone else. Miguel finally accepted your acceptance. He allowed you to love him and heal his heart. He still wasn't comfortable with hurting you, however, and remained determined to find a cure for his condition.

At least until a couple weeks ago.

The two of you were sparring and Miguel was pushing you pretty hard. He was still superior at hand-to-hand combat, simply from years of experience.

Sparring with an absolute tank of a delicious boyfriend like Miguel taught you a lot, but it also made you feral. He usually insisted the two of you calm down and cool off - keeping your training separate from your personal life.

But this particular night, you were having none of it.

Miguel had you pinned on the ground between his thick, gorgeous thighs.

"Ready for a break?" He nonchalantly and almost smugly questioned.

"No way," you huffed, firing webs to bind his ankles together.

You could feel a slightly condescending chuckle rumble through his body, so you fired another web right at his mouth, silencing him.

Your face was right next to his crotch and, as you ordered him to stop fighting you, his cock started getting hard.

Certainly not the first time that happened.

He reached for your hands to try to stop all your spiderweb nonsense, but you stuck his hand to the floor with another web.

He only squeezed his thighs together harder, keeping you trapped.

"Have it your way," you purred, mouthing him through the thin cotton of his joggers.

He mumbled out a protest, through the web covering his mouth, reaching for you with his other hand. While teasing his cock with your lips, you managed to stick his other hand to the floor and start to wiggle free.

Miguel really was stronger than you, but lost his concentration just enough to forget to keep clamping down with his thighs.

You rolled away, laughing victoriously, but knowing he wouldn't stay trapped for long. So you straddled his waist, enjoying your few moments with him bound and silenced, rolling your hips over his length, grinding down temptingly.

"I wonder if I could make you come before you get free," you taunted, firing more webs to trap his entire arms - from shoulders to wrists - to the floor. You used more webbing to secure his legs as well, loosening his ankles just long enough to secure his legs all the way down, spread apart, just like his arms.

He didn't fight you.

Instead, his ruby irises flashed with lust as you pulled your sports bra over your head. He was already shirtless, so it felt incredible when you removed the web silencing him. You laid down, your breasts mashed against his muscular chest, grinding your core against his length as you kissed him hard.

You felt him shift and strain against the webs - he no doubt wanted to run his hands over your skin, but you nipped at his lips, tutting condescendingly.

"Be good for me," you teased, ripping his pants open with no effort. He groaned as you roughly pushed your own pants down and kicked them off, leaving you naked as you draped yourself back over him, rubbing your bare wet cunt up and down his stiff cock.

"Baby, please..." he panted as you undulated - your tits bouncing as you found the friction you sought for your clit, but left him desperate to push his way inside you.

You eased down again, lying on top of him, rolling your hips teasingly as your slid your tongue inside his mouth, purposely dragging it across his sharp fang.

Miguel moaned as the taste of your blood filled his mouth, sucking your tongue, drinking your sweet nectar as you kissed him and teased him endlessly.

You sat back up after a moment, licking your lips clean of blood as your tongue healed itself almost instantly. Bracing yourself with your palms on your boyfriend's huge chest, you locked eyes with him, smirking slightly as you continued rocking your hips just enough to rub your clit pleasurably but to leave him wanting.

"Fuck me," he panted, running his blood-covered tongue over his lips - his muscles straining against your webs.

Biting your lip coyly, you paused the movement of your hips. "Make me." And you continued the drag of your clit over his tip, panting as pleasure sparked up and down your spine.

You wanted his cock inside you as badly as he did, but it was just too fun to see him squirm. Back and forth you went, faster and faster, working yourself close to your release.

"I'm so close," you moaned, concentrating on your own pleasure and loving the flex of Miguel's muscles as he struggled. Soon enough, his warm laser webs, convenient talons and sheer strength freed his arms just enough to knock you off balance.

A bit of sparring ensued - the two of you hard and wet and naked - fighting for control and desperate to fuck.

You attempted to ensnare your boyfriend in your webs again, but he dodged you, rolling away and firing his own, which bound your ankles and made you trip. Before you could hit the ground, however, you ripped your ankles free and rolled to a stop...

...but Miguel was ready, firing his laser webbing to bind your hands. He grabbed you from behind, pushing you down to the floor and pinning you there with all his weight, pushing your bound hands up over your head.

You squirmed but he was pressing down on you with all his might.

"You're going to be still, little spider, while I fuck you."

"Doubt that - " You started, but weren't surprised at all as Miguel's webs covered your mouth. You wriggled against him, but were secretly thrilled that he was using his strength on you. He had shown some hesitancy bringing his powers and his full strength into the bedroom, aside from the way he would regularly drink blood from your tongue when you purposely sliced it on his fang.

Two strong hands gripped your hips, shifting you up just enough for him to thrust his thick cock into your dripping channel. Memories of him bending you over his desk flooded your mind - times when you would cry from how good he would fuck you.

And now, as he pounded into you, with all the power and speed in his beautiful body, you felt pressure but no pain. And he felt release with no guilt.

The webbing across your mouth muffled your screams of ecstasy as he shifted his hips to hit that spot so perfect.

"My beautiful girl," he breathed on the back of your neck. "You were made for me."

His fangs tore into your flesh and he fed - the feeling of his fangs inside your skin made you come instantly - your body convulsing with the wildest, hardest orgasm of your life.

Miguel's paralytic venom could no longer incapacitate you - it merely slowed you down for a minute or two, giving him just enough time to drink his fill, feel your body submit and give out, as he pumped his seed into you.

The two of you collapsed together on the floor, panting and spent. Miguel freed you from his webs, rolled you over to face him and pulled you against the warmth of his chest.

You melted against him, satisfied, accepting his lust-filled kiss.

He pulled back a moment later, amazed as the angry wounds in your throat closed and vanished as your body healed itself.

After two weeks of feeding on your new blood, and dozens of tests to make sure your blood wouldn't somehow hurt him, Miguel put to rest the idea of looking for a cure for his condition.

"I told you - you're perfect just like you are," you whispered one night, lying on top of his chest.

"Maybe I was just waiting on my cure," he murmured back, running his hands down the curve of your bare back. "You fixed me. You healed me."

"You fixed me too. I had no idea what I was missing before super powered sex," you teased him.

He playfully swatted your ass. "We're going to break everything in this house if we keep going like this, corazón."

You smiled to yourself. "I don't know. I think we're going to have to take it easy for a while."

"Why...did I hurt you?"

"No." You pressed a quick kiss right over his heart. "I'm pregnant."

END

Thank you for taking this wild ride with me! It was fun to explore unhinged, blood-drinking Miguel. xoxo - Ivy

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[runawrites-blog]

Until The Break of Dawn Ch. 8 (Josh Washington x Reader)

Summary: Some time has passed since the events on Mount Blackwood and to celebrate your new book's success you meet with your friends, ending in you all talking about what has happened and how they have been doing. (Female Reader) Warnings: Talk of Mental Health, Grief, and Trauma. But everyone is in therapy to deal with everything that happened. Specific warnings will be posted in the notes of each chapter. No Y/N, Petnames (Honey) Author's Note: You can find the previous chapter here. Thank you for reading. ^^ Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49644949/chapters/125305903#workskin

“I see that you decided that happy endings are possible after all.”

You chuckled a little as Josh put your book down. He had insisted on reading your book once he had gotten his hands on a hardback copy of it, even though he had already proofread the final draft. And despite the fact that he’d been so busy lately that it had taken him almost four weeks to read through the book once more, he had been persistent about it. He was always so supportive of you, and you couldn’t help smiling at that fact.

“After everything we’ve been through and come out of alive, I think that Sam was right after all.” You concluded, looking at him. “If people have support and help, they can overcome everything.”

Josh smiled at that sentiment and took your hand. “I admit I had a hard time believing her at first, too. But now with a new therapist, new medication, and support from friends and family, I also think that she was onto something there.”

“Speaking of your medication--”

“Don’t start again.”

“No, I have to ask you once again about what the point of me organizing your meds is if you still won’t remember to take them?” You smirked at him, making Josh roll his eyes jokingly. “Not that I mind reminding you and rest assured that I have a good memory, but I organized them and even decorated the dispenser so beautifully and you still forget.”

Josh chuckled at the last part and leaned in to grin at you. “Putting my name on the dispenser in glittery rhine stones counts as decorating it beautifully?”

“I put every little rhinestone on there individually, so yes it does.” You laughed and leaned in closer to him. “I even used your favorite color.”

“Thank you, Honey.” Josh said earnestly and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You know I’m just joking, right? I really appreciate the little things you do for me.”

“Of course, I know that you’re just joking.” You smiled back, taking his hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Trust me, I know that you appreciate me. And I really appreciate all you do for me, too.”

Josh smiled at that and leaned in to kiss you, pulling you closer and you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes as you sighed against his lips. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you into his lap, making you gasp a little in surprise. When you parted, he was smiling at you, and you returned that smile.

“Now I wish our friends weren’t coming over, so we could get some more time alone.”

“I think we can postpone whatever you had in mind in favor of celebrating your success.” Josh chuckled at your words before pressing a kiss to your temple. “They’re coming over to celebrate your book getting onto the New York Times Bestseller List.”

You ducked your head away from him, bashfully averting your eyes, never one to like boasting about yourself. But Josh wasn’t having it and instead grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him.

“None of that, Honey. You worked so hard for this. You deserve the recognition.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You leaned in to kiss him but before you could the doorbell rang, and you excused yourself to open it. When you did your friends were all there, Ashley, Chris, and Jess blowing party horns while Mike, Matt, and Emily held balloons. Sam embraced you, squeezing you tightly before pulling back and smiling at you.

“Congrats on making it on the Bestseller List!”

“Thank you.” You said with a bright smile, looking at all your other friends. “And thank you all for the lovely surprise.”

Mike laughed and nodded at Jess. “The party horns were Jessica’s idea.”

“And the balloons were Matt’s idea.” Emily piped up with a grin. “Can we come inside? I think it’s starting to rain.”

“Of course.”

With them there you all spend a lovely evening, eating dinner and eventually gathering under the roof of your porch to simply look out into the rain and talk. Jessica’s eyes drifted across the treeline close to your somewhat secluded little house before she looked at you with a little chuckle.

“After everything, you two still live close to the woods.”

“I mean, we know that we’re safe here.” Josh answered, placing a hand on the small of your back. “I do admit that it gets a little scary sometimes but mostly it’s just really peaceful.”

“We even sleep with the window open at times.”

“Seriously? I can hardly manage to sleep without locking the door to our bedroom.” Matt mumbled, looking over at Emily. “But it’s getting better. Since Em and I moved in together, I’ve been doing a lot better.”

“That’s really good to hear.” You said earnestly, offering him a small smile. “I guess, to me, it’s just peaceful to hear the wildlife out and about at night because I know that there’d actually be danger if it went quiet outside.”

“That’s true.” Sam piped up from beside you. “I have actually started going on walks in the woods again. I used to love it but after that night I couldn’t do it for a long time.”

“I’m glad you managed to do that.” Jess smiled a little before sighing. “Now I feel dumb for wanting to announce to you that I managed to sleep with the window cracked open last night. It seems a bit silly now.”

You quickly shook your head. “Not at all, Jess. Everyone heals at their own pace and even something small is a step forward. I’m glad you’re healing.”

“Thanks.” Jess smiled and leaned into Mike. “Now, let’s talk about something more cheerful. You made it onto the New York Times Bestseller List. That’s so amazing. You’re a real author now!”

Josh pulled you close to his side, grinning widely. “I am so proud of my girlfriend. I think we should toast to her.”

“Good idea.” Matt said and held up his glass. “To our famous author friend.”

“Thank you all but I’m not famous. I published one book.”

“And they asked you to write another one.” Josh smirked, raising his glass once before bringing it to his lips. “You’re amazing.”

“So are you.” You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheeks. “You’ll be a famous director one day.”

“You could write his screenplays.” Chris grinned and looked at the two of you. “I mean, he wants to direct horror movies and you write horror-themed books.”

“A match made in heaven.” Ashley chuckled, looking at you with an interested look. “What is your next book about?”

“Wendigos.”

Josh snorted at that and waved you off. “I love you with all my heart, but I won’t read that. I’m so sorry.”

“Me, neither.” Jess said and cuddled up to Mike. “At least not without Mike there to protect me.”

“I’ll give it a read.” Chris chuckled and shrugged. “Let’s see if you captured their essence.”

Sam crossed her arms with a smirk. “I’ll read it, too. But I must ask, why is it about Wendigos?”

“I think I just need to get all my feelings about what happened to us out on paper and by putting them onto another character I can distance myself from it a bit.” You explained, swirling your drink in your glass. “Does that make sense?”

Emily shrugged at your words. “As much sense as anything else going on in our lives, really.”

“Will your new book have a happy ending?”

You nodded at Matt’s question. “I think so. I’ve come to believe in happy endings.”

“How come?”

“Because now I know that no matter what happens, with help and friends by your side, you can still have a happy ending. It may not be all that conventional, it may not be happy all the time and there may be pain, but hope is never completely lost.”

“What a nice thought.” Josh mumbled, leaning closer to you and kissing your cheek. “I think I’m starting to also believe in happy endings.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Chris smiled before he leaned in. “I heard you started seeing a new therapist, too. Is he better than Doctor Hill?”

“Yes.” Josh nodded as you embraced his arm, holding onto it and stroking it comfortingly. “Doctor Hill wasn’t bad, either. I was simply misdiagnosed, therefore on the wrong medications, and on top of that, I didn’t get along with Doctor Hill.”

Sam nodded along to his words. “Are you properly medicated now? I mean, do you feel like you are? Do you feel better?”

“I do. I feel much happier and more stable.” Josh said and when your grip on his arm tightened, he turned to you, noting your worried look. “Honey, trust me, I am doing much better. I may have bad days; I am still grieving, and things aren’t perfect but I’m doing better. Thank you for being with me throughout it all.”

“I would never leave your side.” You promised, smiling in relief as you saw Josh meeting your eyes and you wrapped your arms around his middle. “You were there for me during the worst times of my life, and I will be there for you when things get hard. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[huhjxn]

a soulmate who wasn't meant to be

jeon heejin x fem!reader

warm hugs that lingers a bit too long and loving gazes that seems more than friendly. all the hints told you that jeon heejin liked you back, or that you have a chance at least. so why are the both of you hurting? roughly inspired by the song of the same title by jess benko.

! : angst, betrayal (leading someone on), rejection, heejin why???

2.7k words

It’s so frustrating.

Perhaps it is the worst decision you’ve ever made.

And unfortunately, you can’t take back what you’ve said.

You could feel the tears that are continuously streaming down your face but you couldn’t care less at the moment; you felt so vulnerable, so weak, so small in front of her.

The girl who you thought had shared the same feelings as you did.

And so you ran as fast as you could, and in no time, you reached the comfort of your home. You were heavily panting as you felt a crushing sensation in your chest.

"Y/N?" Your roommate approached you, wiping her eyes and she yawned. She took another good look at you when you didn’t respond and gasped softly at the sight of you.

"I don’t want to force you into anything," You said shakily, "Because I know that wouldn’t be fair to you."

Heejin’s eyes start to get glossy; she had seen this sight before, but this time, she’s the one who’s causing the damage.

You closed your eyes shut and inhaled deeply before continuing "...But if there’s even just a small chance that this could work…"

"There isn’t," Heejin said sternly. She really hates that she had to be brutally honest with you and cause more of your tears to fall, but she believed that she had no other choice.

It’s for your own sake.

She was just sparing you from a bigger heartbreak.

All of a sudden, you could feel the familiar pain in your chest. "Right… I’ve been here," You thought.

You stared at your feet and attempted to wipe the tears on your face, and you can’t help but chuckle sarcastically at the absurdity of the situation that you were in, "I guess I never learn."

Heejin was about to reach out to you, her concern growing every second that passes; you’re her best friend after all.

But before her hand even gets to brush yours, you took a step back like her touch was the most dangerous thing in the world. Although at this moment, it really seemed like it was.

Heejin’s eyebrows knit together as she stared at your frame, "Y/N…"

"I’m sorry," You stated without meeting her eyes, "For taking advantage of your friendship…" You trailed off. Heejin shakes her head, the guilt is starting to eat her alive, "No, Y/N it’s–"

"I’m sorry," was all she heard before seeing you flee the scene, and in an instant, you were gone.

All she could do was stand there and hope that you would get over her and find someone who would love and appreciate you the way you deserved.

Heejin was dragging her feet as she went back to the dorms. The first one to greet her as she opened the door was Sooyoung, who smiled warmly at her, but the smile immediately fell as she saw how worn out her friend looked.

Sooyoung hesitates for a second, but she asks cautiously, "Heejin, are you okay?" Their members’ eyes landed on them as they heard the girl’s concerned voice asking that question, and they stared in shock at how the dark-haired girl looked.

Heejin leaves her shoes by the doorway before heading in the direction of her room, ignoring her unnie’s question and her members’ stares altogether.

As she finally arrives at the safety of her room, she immediately lies on her bed, hoping that when she wakes up, everything will be fine; that everything that had happened beforehand was all a cruel nightmare.

She hoped that she hadn’t just broken your heart into millions of tiny pieces. "There’s nothing else I could do," Heejin thought to herself.

All Heejin wanted was to close her eyes and forget about the events that occurred earlier, but unfortunately for her, she wasn’t able to get any sleep that night.

You could not believe how it all went downhill so fast. Heejin has always been there for you ever since you were kids, and you made sure that you'll always be the person that she'll run to when she's faced with problems.

Back in the day, the problems that you would talk about are not having enough money to buy the candy bar in the convenience store which turned to not getting enough rest and having a math exam the next day, which also turned to Heejin doubting whether she has what it takes to debut as the first member of LOONA, until the problems that the both of you discussed relatively developed as the both of you matured.

Jeon Heejin was your best friend before anything else. She's the friend that you would always lean on, and you were most definitely that person for her as well, even when she was met with eleven other girls that seemed as though they were destined to be together.

Naturally, she became preoccupied when she debuted as an idol, but somehow, the girl always managed to find time to hangout with you and to catch up, feeling as though something's missing when she doesn't get to spend time with you, and frankly, you felt the same way.

While Heejin followed her dreams, you tried to achieve yours as well, staying at the same school which you and Heejin attended, until eventually, you had to transfer to a university and attain higher education.

Sometimes, you felt that it was so overwhelming; having a famous friend is proven to be a struggle especially when hanging out with her in public, which was why both of you agreed to meet up in your apartment instead or go out during the evening whenever the both of you wanted to hangout.

In all honesty, you couldn't really remember when you started harboring feelings toward your friend, all you remember was that she had always been the person that you cared about the most, and you only confirmed your attraction towards your friend when you saw that she was being shipped with one of her members named Hyunjin. Although you know that the pair were nothing but friends, you couldn't help but feel the slight possessiveness especially knowing that they spent more time together than Heejin did with you.

But even as a friend, Heejin never failed to reassure you that she's there for you despite all the demands of being an idol. You felt guilty because for some reason, it felt wrong to be attracted to a friend like Heejin when she is being the best friend anyone could ask for, so you tried to find someone else.

"Are you sure about her?" Heejin asked, looking skeptical.

"Look, Heejin, you don't have to interrogate me," you said, trying to ease your friend's worries, "She's cute, she's smart, she's talented, she can literally do everything!" You exclaimed, and Heejin kept eye contact with a sour look on her face, "I mean, she's been giving me all these signals, so it might be safe to assume that I have a chance."

The girl sighed, and you had no idea why she was suddenly being so protective and pessimistic, "But what if she's playing you?" Heejin asked bluntly, "Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't trust this girl."

"Why not?" You inquired, Heejin took a deep breath before replying, "Because I don't know her," the then blonde replied truthfully, her right hand grabbed one of yours then placed her other hand on top of it, "I just don't want you to get hurt, Y/N."

The simple and harmless action made you blush profusely, feeling your face heat up at her words and her actions, but you tried to play it off, shoving her before replying, "You don't have to worry about me, I can handle myself."

However, you definitely couldn't. That night, you came back to your apartment with tears slowly streaming down your face, and Heejin was there to hold you. Most of the time, she wasn't, but she was usually just a call away.

Rubbing small circles on your back as she held you close to her body, she tried to comfort you, "Hey, it's alright, I'm here, I won't leave you."

You couldn't help but sob at her words. Truthfully, you really did find the girl attractive, but you didn't like her the way you did for Heejin; no one can compare to her. But that doesn't mean that you didn't feel betrayed by the girl you confessed to, because you did and it hurts.

It turns out that she was not attracted to girls at all; the reason why she acted like she was interested in you was because she wanted to get back at you, despite not doing anything wrong. According to the girl, her boyfriend that she was dating in secret seems to be attracted to you, so she wanted to get her revenge.

After hearing your explanation, Heejin rolled her hands into a fist, wanting nothing more than to confront the girl that messed with the person she cared about the most.

In all honesty, Heejin was unsure whether her feelings toward you were platonic or if it were something more, but she knew better than to do something about it. She doesn't want to ruin the years of friendship that both of you built from the ground up, and if something does happen, she fears that things might go wrong and everyone she cares about would be negatively impacted by it—if somehow it all becomes public, she's afraid that it might hurt LOONA's reputation, and people including her 'supporters' might come after you.

As a result of those fears, she tries not to think about the uncertain emotions that she feels and simply protects you from the harshness and cruelty of the world, not knowing that someday, she will be the one causing you immense pain.

Heejin woke up the next morning with a heavy heart, the things that had happened the night before evoked different emotions from her, and now she feels emotionally drained, and although she has her members with her, she still craves for your presence.

The girl got up and reached for her phone. The time 2:58 p.m. greeted her harshly, remembering how she was only able to fall asleep at dawn. Heejin had a problem sleeping all night, thinking about how she hurt you, but she kept repeating the same thing in her head: she's doing this for your own good.

She heard a soft knock on her door and saw Haseul's head peeking in.

"Hey, are you up?" The leader asked. Heejin nodded her head before stretching out her arms, "Yeah, I'm sorry, I overslept."

Haseul smiled at the younger member, shaking her head, "Typical Heejin," she thought.

"You don't have to apologize, Heejin," The leader said softly, a gentle smile drawn on her lips, "I heard something happened," she tried to open the topic as she cautiously sat on the girl's bed, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her leader's voice and comfort was enough to break down the walls that Heejin built as the tears started falling, her palms immediately finding their way to cover her eyes, curling up on the bed.

Haseul looks at the girl with concern laced in her features, she scoots closer to the younger girl then wraps her arms around the poor girl's body, "I'm here, Heejin. All of us are. If you need someone to lean on, we're here to help you."

"I know," Heejin's voice sounded so broken, it made the leader felt more protective of the girl, "But Y/N," Heejin sobbed, and that's when Haseul knew that something bad must've happened, "I can't say the same thing about her, not anymore."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Haseul asked anxiously. Everyone in LOONA knows just how much the both of you treasured each other, so Haseul couldn't help but get worried at her member's words.

"I messed up, unnie," Heejin cried harder. Haseul tried to comfort the girl by drawing circles on her back, but they both know that no matter how hard they try, Heejin's heart was already broken.

As much as you tried to forget about your ex best friend, it proved to be an impossible task. Partly because almost every little thing reminded you of her; clothes, pictures, restaurants, parks, heck even your own room. It also doesn't help that she is gaining more and more attention in South Korea, increasing her brand deals which means that you could practically see her everywhere.

You checked the time on your wrist watch before hurrying to leave. It has already been two years since your last encounter with Heejin, but everyday without her hurts the same. You thought that maybe after you graduate from college and start getting preoccupied with your career, you would finally move on from her, but you couldn't be more wrong.

Walking through the busy streets of Seoul, you tried to hurry so that you wouldn't be late for work. However, the sight before you caused you to stop walking altogether.

There she was, as beautiful as ever, the woman that your heart ached for.

Heejin was standing three stores in front of you, wearing a uniform that the shop provided which means she's probably shooting promotional content as she works part-time for them.

"What are the odds?" you thought, as you felt the cracks on your heart shattering once again. Seeing her bright and beautiful smile gave you so many memories that it felt overwhelming, suffocating even, and that's when you realize that all those little things and places that reminded you of her as well as those posters of her that you see on the streets were nothing compared to actually seeing her in the flesh.

As much as you want to move and run as fast as you can just to escape, your body seems to forbid you from doing so, your eyes still locked on the figure of your past.

And without realizing, your eyes started to become so glossy that you could barely see the girl's features. All of a sudden, all those feelings of regret started coming back to you, wishing that you could go back in time to the day the two of you met, wishing that you could simply ignore her as she tried to befriend you, wishing that you could retract all your steps and erase your history with the girl because you knew that it was the only way for you to move on from the hurt of the rejection you faced.

Because now, as you look into her eyes, you realize that she's simply someone that you used to know; a stranger who knows all your secrets, someone who can make you and break you.

Even as you tried to stop it from happening, you felt the tears cascade from your eyes as you stood there, still frozen on your spot.

You dropped your gaze to the ground and wiped the tears, hindering it from falling any further, and just as you did, the woman responsible for your heartbreak glanced at your direction, squinting her eyes as she saw a familiar figure standing at a distance, then her professional grin gradually dropped, realizing who she was looking at, especially as she figured that you were indeed crying, in public—something that you hated doing.

Heejin is once again reminded of how she was the reason why your friendship ended. Yes, you were the one who confessed, but your confession does not have to put an end to your friendship—it was all on Heejin. At that moment, she was reminded of how you gave her the world and she broke your heart in return; how she let her fears overcome her and how she chose her career over you.

And as you returned your gaze on the celebrity, you realized that she was already aware of your presence, staring at your figure. In a split second, your eyes met, but it didn't feel the same way it did before. Everything felt wrong. And just like the speed of her rejection, she immediately broke eye contact, smiling at the camera as they were about to shoot.

[torreshalstead]

I’m only human too

Summary - Pain in the ass.

She had told him on multiple accounts that he was a pain in her ass, never in spite and only in jest but she had said it with a twinkle in her eye and a grin tugging at her lips. Was she implying what he thought she was? Surely not.

But as the rest of the day passed by in a blur, he wondered if she had been.

Notes - Just because I miss Rollisi and haven’t written for them in so long. I was rewatching season 19 and so this is a little alternative ending to episode 8. Happy Reading ❤️ AO3 Link

‘And sometimes with people who are pains in the ass,’ Amanda said with a grin before walking away. Carisi let his eyes follow her as she exited the squad room, her words and the events of the night before replaying over and over in his mind like a film reel stuck on replay.

Pain in the ass.

She had told him on multiple accounts that he was a pain in her ass, never in spite and only in jest but she had said it with a twinkle in her eye and a grin tugging at her lips. Was she implying what he thought she was? Surely not.

But as the rest of the day passed by in a blur, he wondered if she had been.

It had been a risk to lean towards her outside that motel, a daring play when he wasn’t sure what her cards were or how closely she was keeping them to her chest. For the smallest of moments, the tiniest breath he had thought she might match his movements, meet him in the middle and he would finally know what it felt like to kiss her, but then she turned away.

Sonny had put it down to the alcohol, that making a move that would forever change their friendship was not something that should be done when their blood alcohol level would get them pulled over by their brothers in blue. But when he saw that bartender, Bucky or whatever his name was, leave her room the following morning, it felt like someone had sucked all of the air out of his lungs and left him stranded in a desert.

He had told himself the entire drive back to the city that the reason she had turned away was because she wasn’t attracted to him, that she wanted some random bartender more than him. He painted himself an image and stuck to it, answering her with one liners and none of the joviality that normally laced his words, especially when he spoke to her.

Because as much as the alcohol had helped push him closer the day before, he had wanted her for years.

She had sassed him and mocked his moustache when they had first met but soon became a fast friend, she was the person he trusted, he relied on and he knew she felt the same. When Jesse came along, and he saw just how brave, how strong and how capable she was when thrown into an unknown arena, his mind and heart was set.

However he valued his friendship with her more than anything so instead of pursuing anything and taking a risk, he kept her close and became Uncle Sonny to her kid and simply Carisi, or a pain in her ass, to her.

Alone in his apartment, he sat on the couch, the tv screen playing a rerun of a show he wasn’t paying any attention to.

‘You know I’m human right.’

Amanda didn’t show weakness and she sure as hell didn’t like admitting she had made a mistake but from where he was standing, or sitting, her words felt more like an admission than just a statement.

Because humans make mistakes.

And sometimes they sleep with the wrong person when the right one was just feet away, staring at the ceiling of a dusty motel room wondering if he had overstepped a line with his partner.

He let his head thud back against the couch cushion and screwed his eyes closed. He knew what he wanted, that much was certain, but what did she want?

Was she as scared as he was, that crossing a line was something that could never be undone?

Were her words just words, that he was the one assigning a meaning to them that she had never meant?

He’d give her the world if that’s what she wanted, but if she wanted to kiss and move on, he’d do that too. He just felt so confused.

Pulling out his phone he checked the time, it was just past 9. He shouldn’t go over there, Jesse would be asleep and he wasn’t sure Amanda even wanted to see him.

But he needed to know, he needed to be sure what her words had meant.

So without allowing himself more than a moment to think through his actions, he pulled his work shoes back on, grabbed a jacket and headed out the door.

——————————————————————————

The cab ride to Amanda’s apartment took less than 10 minutes, he would have walked if he didn’t think that the fresh air might have made him rethink his decision.

Was he about to ruin it all, for the sake of nothing?

He pushed that idea away as he paid his fare and stood outside her apartment block, he knew the code for the door so without hesitating, he let himself in and walked up the four flights of stairs to get to her apartment.

He knocked the door lightly, knowing that if he woke Jesse up then he would never be forgiven - it was hard enough to get the little girl to go to sleep on the best of days.

A few moments later, the door opened and Amanda came into view. She was dressed for comfort, her work clothes replaced with a pair of loose fitting heather grey sweatpants and an oversized tee, the printed graphic long faded.

‘Sonny,’ she said, her voice quiet but unquestioning. As if it was a perfectly normal occurrence for him to show up unannounced to her apartment in the middle of the night. Although, if you took away the middle of the night aspect, he supposed it wasn’t that unusual.

‘Am I a pain in the ass?’ He asked. He had thought up a million different speeches on the drive over, some where he confessed his love, some where he asked for an explanation but the words that were coming out of his mouth now were unrehearsed and unfiltered.

‘What?’ She said, her eyes brows knitting together in confusion.

‘Am I a pain in the ass?’ He asked again, taking a small step forward, courage from somewhere deep inside spurring him on.

A look of understanding crossed Amanda’s face. ‘You are,’ she all but whispered in response.

‘And you’re human,’ he said, crossing the entrance into her apartment, a small gleam of satisfaction hitting him as she shut the door behind him.

‘I’m human,’ she agreed.

He didn’t know who moved first, all he knew that one moment he was looking at her, thinking how beautiful she was and the next her lips were on his and his fingers were digging into her hips, pulling her flush towards him. She pushed him back against the door with a dull thud and her fingers were suddenly tugging at his jacket and pushing the offending material down his arms into a pile on the floor.

Kissing Amanda was like nothing he had ever experienced before, he thought it would be soft and gentle, tender and sweet but it was fast and messy, she nipped at his lips and then soothed them with her tongue, her hands were untucking his shirt from his waistband and slipping under it, tracing their way across his skin. He felt like he was on fire, like if he didn’t divest himself of his clothes, and hers, right away, he might burst into flames.

He tugged on her t-shirt, a silent request that she understood clearly, taking a small step back to pull it over her head and drop it onto the floor with his jacket. He took her in, a black bra sitting in contrast against her pale pink skin, a skin he needed to touch and memorise as soon as possible.

‘Are we doing this?’ She whispered as she stepped back into his space, her touch more hesitant than it was before.

‘I think so,’ he responded in a low voice as he reached out to push a strand of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, his hand still cradling her jaw. He leant forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. ‘Jesse?’ He asked as he pulled away.

‘Out like a light,’ she said with a smile. ‘But we will need to be quiet.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ he smiled in response. ‘And tomorrow?’ He asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer but needed to know before he gave this woman his body and his heart. He’d do it whatever her response was, he was too close now to back away unless she wanted him to, but he needed to know.

‘That’s for tomorrow to know,’ she said, pushing up on her tiptoes and sealing her lips to his again, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest.

It wasn’t an answer. It wasn’t even a hint at what might come when the evening night turned to morning light, but right now Sonny didn’t care. He had the woman he loved in his arms, and that was all that mattered.

He slid his hands down her back and over her arse before giving her a quick squeeze. She took the hint and in a moment her legs were wrapped around his waist as he walked them back into her apartment to cross a line and face whatever consequences would arise.

[ja3hwa]

Day 14 : Valentine : Yeosang

「Title」 : Taste

「Word count」 : 670

-> Genre: Suggestive, Fluff

Paring: Boyfriend!Yeosang x Reader

[Warnings] : Making out, Food play, Soft Dom Yeosang. Hickeys. Nipple play. Let me know if I missed anything.

February Filth Fest Event Day Calendar

There were chocolates all over the bed and rose petals. You hadn’t even gotten your dinner dress off yourself when you saw the sight before you. Yeosang chuckles from behind you and he snakes a hand around your waist.

“The dinner was enough,” you say with some tease to your tone.

“Awe you don’t like it?” He asks.

“No, no. It’s romantic,” you laugh.

But you do like it. It’s very cute. Yeosang guides you over the bed all while he unzips the back of your dress. He spins you around as you begin laughing even further. You shake off your dress and kick it across the room. You stand so close to him, bare-chested and only in your laced undies. He pushes you lightly back onto the bed as he keeps his face inches from yours. When your back is flat against the bed with all the chocolates and petals digging into your skin, he kisses you deeply. His fingers graze your sides and a shiver chills down your spine. You moan into his mouth as he pushes you up the bed, placing a knee between your legs. He gently rubs his knee against your clit and it’s what you’ve been wanting all night.

Suddenly there is too much clothing on Yeosang. You rip off his jacket and his shirt soon follows after. He sits up and undoes his belt to chuck off his pants awkwardly while you both giggle. You watch the sight as you wash your hands over all the chocolates and petals on the bed. Your hand finds itself grabbing a couple of the wrapped chocolates. Bringing it in front of you, happiness swells inside as you read, caramel, on the wrapping. Yeosang knows you too well. You unwrap it, but instead of eating it yourself, you plop it in your lover's mouth as he comes down expecting another kiss. He chews with a smile as you grab another chocolate from the bed.

“Today has been lovely,” you tell him softly.

Before he can say anything, you pop another chocolate into his mouth. You grab another chocolate but this one is taken from your hold. It’s only now that you finally take notice that Yeosang is completely naked over you with his cock half erect. You take in the sight as he unrolls the chocolate.

“Open wide,” he whispers, pressing the sweet to your lips. You take the chocolate into your mouth along with two of his fingers. Your tongue dances around his digits before he pulls them out slowly so you can chew and swallow the sweet.

“Another,” you beg. Something lights up in him and he reaches over for another chocolate and gets two. He opens both of them and presses one to your lips. Again, you slowly take in the sweet with his fingers, licking them before he pulls them out, exactly how he did it prior. You can clearly see he’s getting excited by this with his cock now being fully erect. And you, yourself become wet. He feeds you another chocolate and you think that you could stay here forever. Being fed well with sweets.

But before you could beg for another chocolate, a shock wave of pleasure makes your gasp out. His mouth latches around your bare chest, sucking harshly on your nipple while twisting the other, gifting you with painful pleasure.

"Y-Yeo..." Your fingers tangle in his fluffy hair, tugging it. He groans at the feeling, biting down a little rougher. He chuckled in amusement, continuing his assault on your chest. Purple marks riddled your skin, as he glanced at his work. You always looked beautiful to him, but when he got to taint your body, that's when he thought you were the most exquisite.

“Happy Valentine, my Darling.” His lips danced up your body, ensuring he kissed every part he could retch.

“And to you as well, my love.”

-

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[asimplearchivist]

𝑪𝑯. 𝑰𝑰𝑰 — 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑲 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ miguel makes a decision he regrets, until he doesn’t. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 6.3k a/n 🕷️ ⤏ this fic will get lighthearted at some point, I promise the angst won’t last forever. (for the most part, anyway.) I’m probably enjoying this a little more than I should, ssshhh. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️

Miguel barely slept, other than brief glimpses gone too soon. The sun had crested the horizon just as he’d finally grown comfortable (and mind-numbingly tired enough) to finally fall into a real and proper slumber. LYLA greeted him with a brisk run-down of readings that had been gathered throughout the night—no new anomalies, just a couple of spikes he’d had her put tabs on for scrutiny. She’d flickered out before he’d even been able to get in a word edgewise, having fully intended to apologize to her for his outburst the night before. He’d showered, dressed, and grabbed a cup of bland, cold coffee from the cafeteria before holing himself up in his lab like he usually did—thankfully with no unwanted unexpected visitors.

That had lasted about an hour before the same persisting migraine splitting behind his eyes had become too much to bear. He had to be careful about how long he spent straining his vision, given how sensitive it was, and he’d obviously overdone it yesterday. He’d reluctantly eaten a snack in order to take some more painkillers and had retreated to a dark corner to shut his eyes for a few minutes while listening to the readouts instead, brooding all the while.

His resolve had cracked when Jess had wandered into the lab looking for him close to noon. He’d managed to actually hold a full conversation with her, got to apologize, and even though she’d accepted it graciously (perhaps more easily than she should have given how short his temper had grown of late), she’d still reminded him of the other Spider-Woman in sore need of an explanation for the previous day’s events.

He admitted that he’d given it thought and agreed, albeit reluctantly. She flashed him a small smile and patted his arm. “I could handle it, if you want.”

Miguel shook his head. “...No. It’ll make more sense coming from someone she knows.” He swallowed roughly, and Jessica’s expression wrinkled with concern that he ignored. “I can handle it, Jess.”

“If you insist.” She retracted her touch and he stifled the immediate urge to mourn the loss and chase it. “Just…let me know if you need anything. I’m headed up to submit my report.”

“Will do.” He watched her go. “Stay safe.”

Having tugged on his civvies over his suit and grabbing his specially tinted sunglasses, he’d punched in the coordinates to your neighboring universe and had walked through the portal into the subway system beneath Nueva York. Chest tight and jaw clenched, he’d navigated his way through the tunnels up into the main system to melt into the population without detection, pondering on how to find you.

He’d only learned enough about your basic demographics to get a good enough read on your story—he hadn’t had the heart to commit the details to memory because he’d been hurting too much. Now he pulled up the same page on his watch, scrolling through the endless paragraphs of text that LYLA had composed with a blunt fingertip, reading with aching, squinted, blurring eyes as he navigated against the current of people descending to catch their rides for the lunch rush. The lenses adjusted themselves for the screen on the watch, thankfully, but that meant agitating his vision even more.

You’d quit your career at Alchemax after you’d lost your husband, which he’d known, but he was surprised to find that you had opened your own bakery near the very same park he’d been reminiscing about last night—in a two-story building, remodeled, with an apartment upstairs to call your own place of residence. He found the address and began to make his way through the city, observing the subtle differences in this universe as opposed to his as he went. It was almost identical, save some odd contrasts—some street names were swapped, some blocks mirrored or flipped. Some businesses thriving in his universe were abandoned or replaced altogether in yours. At least there weren’t stark visual discrepancies as there were in others, like Brown’s—he wasn’t certain his head could take it at the moment.

The more he delved into your track record, the more Miguel was forced to admit to himself that he’d be a damn fool to pass up the opportunity of recruiting you into the collective. Your management of civilians and structural damage during crises was among the best that he’d seen, and very few casualties were reported whenever you were on the scene. Almost every single villain of the week you’d apprehended was admitted to prison or mental facilities, with very few escapees. You were excellent at your job, he had to admit. He was impressed, and with as many Spider-People with whom he’d interacted in the last six months, that was an accomplishment not easily earned.

Miguel soon found himself turning the corner, eyes finding the same round sign as pictured in your file: a minimalistic white outline of a slice of strawberry shortcake on a pale pink background. The looping script curving around the outer rim read, ‘FRESA’S BAKERY’. He hesitated, then, clenching his teeth against the stinging mist that overtook his gaze. He swallowed roughly, inwardly debated the thought of turning on his leaving, but he knew Jess would have his ass if he’d gone to the effort to locate you but didn’t follow through.

A passel of teenagers, obviously having just left school if the backpacks slung over their shoulders were any indication, flooded out the door chattering and laughing among themselves, all holding individually wrapped cupcakes that Miguel could smell from ten yards away—the fresh, sweet buttercream frosting made his stomach clench and his mouth water simultaneously. They cast him skeptical glances as they parted and passed by him on either side, and Miguel girded himself. He could handle this. He was just explaining things, introducing himself, and offering you an extra job. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

So why was he so fucking apprehensive?

Letting out a terse sigh, he straightened to his full height, pulled his shoulders back, and walked to the glass storefront to glance inside. The place definitely suffered inspiration from retro diners, he thought. A display case of the bakery’s daily specials in the window almost obscured his view of the black and white floor tile contrasting with the narrow, rose vinyl booths lining the left wall. A larger round table soaked up the afternoon sunshine in the broader right window—crumbs, wrappers, and drink bottles littered its surface, the four velvet chairs of the same shade as the booths askew from their proper places. An ivory neon sign let him know that the bakery was still OPEN.

Miguel spotted movement behind the counter and a lump formed in his throat. He could still turn back if he wanted—a part of him wanted to. He could forget this foolish idea and go about his business. He still had to type up his own mission report for yesterday’s borderline catastrophe, after all, and he’d need to prepare for LYLA’s routine defrag and update on Sunday…

…but a larger part of him, a maelstrom of heartache, longing, and his damnable curiosity, wanted to know you—this version of you, anyway. Were you anything like his wife? Were you anything like the mother of his daughter? Or were you entirely different?

Maybe that would make it easier, if you weren’t the same. (Yet he still doubted it.)

The thought spurred him into grasping the door handle to pull it open. He was met with a flood of warm scents brimming with notes of bread, vanilla, and sugar. He scraped his trainers on the rug on reflex, wincing as the disorienting chime denoting his entry rang through the place. Miguel’s eyes trained on the back just visible behind the counter, bobbing slightly.

“Welcome in!” came a cheery, muffled greeting, and Miguel’s throat tightened. “I’ll be with you in just a moment! We have a discount for a baker’s dozen cupcakes for the weekend if you’re inter—”

Miguel’s lips thinned as you straightened up, then promptly dropped the foldable paper box—a custom design of soft peony with the same logo and flowing script as displayed on the sign outside—that you’d fetched. Your mouth dropped open in shock. Your body went stiff, face wan, and he did not miss the way your rounded eyes immediately misted over at the mere sight of him standing in your entryway, silhouetted by sunshine and casting a long, dark shadow across the polished floor.

Miguel clenched his hands into fists as the extended silence made his ears ring, barely managing to retract his talons before he did so (his palms still hurt like a bitch from last night despite the antiseptic balm he’d applied on them after his shower). Being upset kept them out.

You didn’t look the same, after all. (Neither did he, though, he was certain.) Miguel did his best to quash the disappointment that followed the realization. Your facial structure was the same, your expression familiar, but your age was different—closer to his own, whereas his wife had been younger and his daughter’s mother had been slightly older. Your hair was a different shade, when his daughter’s mother had dyed hers. Your nails were blunt and bare, where his wife had always had them manicured and painted. He hated to think like that—cataloging the differences between you three like birds or butterflies or some shit. He suppressed his frown.

“...Miguel?” you finally breathed, and the sound of your voice, even disbelieving, was a punch to the gut he couldn’t have prepared himself for if he’d tried. You looked all the part of having seen an all-too-familiar ghost—and you were, in a way.

(So was he.)

He regretted his decision instantly.

“Yeah.” Miguel struggled for words, despite having rehearsed his usual speech on the way here—but this was anything but the usual scenario. “...I came here to…to apologize. For…yesterday.” He flexed his claws within his fist. “You had questions.”

Your temples worked as you ground your teeth, blinking rapidly in an effort to keep your composure. (You always did hate to cry.) You gave him a long, scrutinous once-over, taking in his form. Your brow wrinkled slightly, and you, too, seemed to be taking note of the differences in himself versus his alternate self that married this version of you. Finally, you shook your head, pursed your lips, and stooped to pick the box back up and dust it off in spite of the floors being spotless (the faint smell of vinegar and lemon reminded him viscerally of Sunday mornings washed in golden light, the sizzle of batter in the pan, the sweet burst of syrup on his tongue). “Apology accepted.”

Miguel blinked as you turned your back on him, facing the refrigerated case containing all your myriad bakes goods. You used a set of tongs to stack the box full of chocolate croissants. “Don’t…don’t you want an explanation?”

“I did.” You cast him a withering glance. That was unfamiliar, stark in its venomosity. You had never looked at him like that before, not even during the occasional argument. “But evidently that was too much to ask, so I won’t expect one now.”

Miguel stared, lips parting. You folded the box shut, adorned the sides with stickers to secure it shut, used a marker to jot a name on its surface, then stepped over to the large fridge on the back wall. One side contained similar boxes with names—custom orders, evidently. The other had an assortment of drinks, bottled water and soda and lemonade. A small tea and coffee station stood next to it.

“Well?” you prompted, facing him once more and planting your hands on your hips. The muscle definition partly inherited from the splicing of spider DNA in addition to the harsh physical efforts most Spider-People executed to swing around the city and take on supervillains was obvious even beneath your generous linen apron because of the slim-fitting black shirt with three-quarter length sleeves underneath. Your dark jeans hugged your legs. He wondered if any of your customers had ever wondered why a baker was so fit since most kneading was accomplished with an automatic mixer. “Since I spared you the effort of your errand, you can head home now. You’ll scare off all my clients, standing there all broody in that getup.” You wrinkled your nose. “You look like you ought to be an MIB agent on the ski slope. You do realize that it’s the start of summer, right?”

Miguel glanced down at his outfit, mouth thinning. His athletic jacket was thin enough that he stayed cool despite the direct sunlight, and he was too hot-natured to wear anything underneath. His joggers, however, were a tad warm for the cloudless day.

He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Look, I just want to talk. Give me fifteen minutes away from here and if you don’t like what you hear, you’ll never see me again.” He took off his sunglasses despite the light invading his corneas, tucking them into the neck of his hood, then extended an open palm. “Deal?”

You narrowed your eyes at him briefly, likely perceiving the carmine hue of his irises. Yet you hesitated—perhaps the thought of him disappearing like a ghost yet again didn’t sit well with you. (He couldn’t say he enjoyed the idea of never laying sight on you, again, either, even if you were being difficult.) “...I can’t leave or close down,” you said slowly. “Aunt Maya is at a doctor’s appointment and bills are due soon. So unless you can magically buy me out of stock for the day, you’ll have to make your case here.” You pointed towards the floor. “Before someone else comes in.”

Miguel frowned, brow furrowing low over his eyes. Wordlessly, he stepped up to the counter and the holoscreen hovering above the register. He typed rapidly upon its surface, ignoring your dubious expression, then pulled his card out of his pocket—LYLA had preprogrammed it to access his account, to bypass security, and to adapt to whatever universe to which he traveled—just in case of emergencies. But if it bought him some time with you…well. He could always claim it as a tax deduction for a business expense if nothing else.

“There.” He turned back to you and gestured towards the ‘OPEN’ sign. “Shall we?”

“There’s no way you just…” You shook your head at him. “Did you actually…?”

The receipt was printed from the kiosk with a whir, and Miguel flashed it to you before stuffing it into his pocket. “You can package it all later. Where’s somewhere private?”

Your pinched expression finally gave into a less intense bemusement, and you sighed. He watched you step up to the front door to lock it and flick off the sign, folding his arms over his chest. “Come on. We’ll go out the back door.”

He followed three paces behind you as you turned off the rest of the lights, activated the security system, and led him through the industrial kitchen separated from the storefront by saloon doors. You untied your apron and tossed it into a hamper as you passed it. The back door was heavy and didn’t shut all the way on its own, but you were evidently used to it because you bashed your shoulder into it to shove it into place within its frame. You locked it, too, before stepping onto the crumbling masonry and ambling up the wall—the alleyway was empty and barren of any windows, thankfully. “Come on, I know a quiet place.”

Miguel tilted his head as you tapped on your belt buckle and your suit rippled into place hugging your frame, shimmering as the UMF coalesced and compressed your clothing. The palette of ivory, pink, and gold was unusual—remaining inconspicuous at night would be nearly impossible—but he had to admit that it was flattering. When you rounded lazily on your heel to peer down at him, the lenses covering your eyes narrowing in confusion, he tightened his hood, flattened his glasses (specifically designed to fold into a narrow slab he could fit in any pocket—he’d accidentally crushed more pairs than he’d ever care to admit), and tapped his watch to activate his own, grateful for the relief that the tint in his mask brought his irate eyes.

“You look like a luchador,” you remarked.

He rolled his eyes under the mask, choosing not to dignify that with an explanation. He leaped up and latched onto the wall next to you, talons piercing the brick to anchor himself in place, and you jumped slightly at the action. “Where to?”

“This way.” You trotted up to the roof, gesturing that he follow, and disappeared over the gutters. He lumbered after you, sending bits of mortar showering down to the concrete below in his wake. When he clambered up onto the shingles, he spotted you already nimbly ascending a radio tower on the neighboring building. He pursued as quickly as he could, but you were agile, so by the time he reached your position you had webbed across the street and swung out into open air.

The roar of wind battered his ears, and Miguel fell into the familiar rhythm as easily as he breathed—connect, swing, release. The honking of traffic crowding the roads below fell to the wayside as he kept you in his sight, winding your way through the buildings as they grew progressively taller and more advanced the closer you went into the heart of the city. The skyscrapers reached towards the sky like a gaping maw of fangs, and soon enough you were slowing to a stop, latching onto the side of a broadcasting tower and ascending to the upper structures. Miguel leveraged himself to dive for the edge instead, managing to tuck and roll onto the flat platform where the satellite tower pierced the clouds.

You joined him with a whistle, barely winded as you rolled your shoulders. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed. Even the flyers have a hard time keeping up with me.”

Miguel propped his hands on his hips, tipping his head expectantly. “Now will you listen to me?”

“Here.” You plopped down on the edge of the roof. “Let’s get this over with.” As Miguel approached, you rubbed the back of your neck and muttered under your breath, “I’m still not entirely convinced you’re not a skinwalker or something.”

“Nothing like that. I wouldn’t want to shapeshift even if I could.” He settled just outside of arm’s reach to your left. “Do you have any questions before I start?”

You squinted at him, for a moment, debating on whether to take up his offer. He waited, arching a brow even though you couldn’t see it, and you finally caved. “Are you Miguel O’Hara?”

Here we go. Miguel sighed. “Yes.”

“But you weren’t…dead. Right? You haven’t miraculously come back to life?” You leaned back to eye his imposing figure once more—despite your flippant words, however, your tone was low. “And…somehow doubled in size?”

“No,” he answered tightly. “I’m from an alternate dimension: Earth 928B. Your universe is labeled as Earth 928C.”

“So…we’re neighbors. Kind of.”

“Yes.”

“You’re the…Spider-Man of your universe, then?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve developed technology capable of interdimensional travel while avoiding the effects of molecular destabilization and eventual disintegration?”

He blinked. There’s that genius-level intellect—and you’re using it to run a bakery. “I didn’t start the project, but…yes. I completed it.” He extended his arm and allowed you to scrutinize the watch. “This serves as a communications device, anchor, and portal remote, essentially.”

Your wringing fingers clasped over your lap indicated that you wanted nothing more than to touch it, but you refrained. “So that Rhino…was from your universe?”

“No. He’s from Earth-26496.”

“Wow. Okay. And the badass chick with the motorcycle?”

“Jessica Drew, Spider-Woman of Earth-616.”

You nodded and leaned over, propping your elbows on your knees and rubbing your temples. “And you swear that you don’t work for Alchemax?”

“I used to.” He shifted uncomfortably. “That’s part of my canon events.”

You lifted your head just enough to squint at him. “Pardon?”

“I can give you more details about that later. What I wanted to explain to you is the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse.”

Your dumbfounded silence was palpable.

“Every Spider-Person in the multiverse is inextricably linked,” he told you. “Something happened six months ago that caused the fabric of the arachno-humanoid—”

“Why don’t you call it the Spiderverse or something?” you interrupted. “It would be less of a mouthful.”

He paused long enough to make his glare known.

“Sorry,” you said, sounding anything but. “Go ahead.”

“There was a disturbance,” he continued flatly, “caused by another Alchemax on Earth-1610B that has since caused innumerable tears in the fabric of the interdimensional web. People who exist as universal constants—like the Rhino—have been propelled through these tears into dimensions where they don’t belong.”

“Ohh.”

“I’ve constructed a base of operations in my universe,” Miguel said, “and have recruited other Spider-People into my team to control these anomalies and rectify the damage incurred. If left unchecked, this phenomenon could result in the destruction of the arachno-humanoid—” And this time, he ignored your exasperated sigh. “—poly-multiverse as we know it. The entire web could fray. Everything would be lost.”

“That’s…quite a lot to take in, I’m not going to lie.” You resumed massaging your head. “I know when I worked at Alchemax they were discussing the possibility of interdimensional travel, but…that research got put on an indefinite hiatus.”

The lab containing all the relevant data, mechanical prototypes, and knowledgeable personnel going sky-high would put a stop to things, yes. Miguel cleared his throat, averting his eyes and trying to ignore the somber note your voice had taken. The city was brilliant at this time of the day, glittering like the landscape of a dragon’s hide. “You’re lucky,” he muttered. “The Alchemaxes that have managed to develop that technology are a pain in the ass because they keep aggravating the problem.”

He felt the chill of your cold gaze even before he noticed that you were looking at him again in his peripheral. “...Lucky.”

Bad choice of words. He could almost hear LYLA telling him so.

“The reason I returned here,” he carefully hedged, “was so that I could ask if you would be interested in joining the collective. If you are, I’ll give you more information at HQ about everything that it would entail, but—”

“No, thanks.”

Miguel stopped. “What?”

You rose to your feet and twisted to pop your back with a soft sigh. “I’m not interested.”

He scowled, standing to look down at you incredulously. “I’m not finished.”

“But I am.” You leveled him with an even stare, refusing to back down despite being significantly smaller than him (of course, there were scarce few people even close to his size). “I got the information I needed, thank you. I’ll have your order ready for pickup in half an hour.”

“You can’t just walk away from me,” Miguel growled, arms akimbo as you did just that—completely disinterested in him with your leisurely stroll towards the opposite edge of the rooftop. “The fate of the multiverse is at stake!”

“Yeah, and you seem to have it perfectly handled without me.” You faced him briefly, lenses narrowed. “I don’t know how similar our universes are, but I’m sure you know that it’s hard enough to balance my personal and professional lives to stay afloat while also protecting an entire city of people who can’t seem to stay out of dangerous situations. I’m grateful that you’re out here, fighting the battle to keep everything together—really, I am, because I’d be six feet under by now otherwise—but I don’t think I’d be of any help to you. I’m nothing special.”

Anger prickled along the back of Miguel’s neck, face heating with frustration. (He was not having to ignore the sting in his eyes at your almost immediate rejection.) “You don’t know what’s at stake here! It’s not just about your city or mine—it’s about every world conceivable to your imagination. If I don’t stop it, then everything you think you know will be gone!”

“Look.” You released a terse sigh. “I don’t know what you know about me, but…I’m probably about as washed-up of a Spider-Woman—Person—as you could find.” Not by a long shot. “I’m a widow, I got locked out of the career I spent my entire life building towards, I’m barely able to keep my own business open because the bills are so fucking outrageous, and if I’m not running on six cups of coffee a day to juggle it all, I’m crashing in the shower and waking up when the water’s colder than a witch’s tit in a cauldron. You don’t want me for your team.”

Miguel hadn’t failed to notice the dark semi-circles marring the skin under your eyes. He hadn’t missed the bills marked in angry red marker pinned to the notice board in your kitchen. He wasn’t ignorant to the almost listless way you moved, as if locked into autopilot—likely the reason why you hadn’t reacted quite as strongly to both his very presence and his briefing on a relatively mind-bending revelation about the universe and its unfathomable intricacies. You were obviously running on fumes.

“I’m sorry,” you continued sincerely—but also mostly exhausted. “I really am. But I’ve made too many mistakes to take on a task of this magnitude and be trusted to hold my weight without fumbling and fucking everything up again and causing irreparable damage.” 

Pot, meet kettle.

Miguel swallowed as you turned again, fingers digging into his palms. The prick of his talons grounded him, gave him something to focus on besides the clench of his jaw and the tension in his temples. He said your name, taking a few ginger paces towards you.

You stiffened. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I don’t know who I am to you in your universe, but…you’re…” You wrapped your arms around yourself, fingertips pressing into your biceps. “...it’s hard enough talking to you. I can’t…”

“I know.” He stopped only when he was three feet away, observing the tremor in your shoulders. “You’re not alone.”

You cast a glance over your shoulder with a scoff. “How could you possibly know?”

He shook his head, heart clenching. “Escuchame*. Just…believe me, every Spider-Person I’ve met has gone through things—terrible things. It’s not exclusive. We’ve all fucked up at some point—I know that better than anyone. It doesn’t define your capability of carrying on, and it doesn’t hinder your ability to protect. If anything, it makes it…easier, in a way. More important.”

“I’ve had the ‘everyone has it just as bad if not worse’ talk before, Miguel. It doesn’t do any good.” You stepped up onto the ledge. “For the love of God, don’t patronize me like everyone else does.”

Didn’t he know it. The words left his mouth before he could even think about them. “I need you.”

You froze. “...What?”

“I—we need your help. You’re excellent at your job. Your knowledge of robotics would be indispensable to our success, development, and expansion. I know you. You’re one of the most dedicated people I’ve ever met, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’d be irreplaceable to our cause.” He hesitated. “If you still don’t want to, I understand. I wouldn’t have chosen to be in my position in any other circumstance, either. But this is bigger than any single one of us. Personal sacrifice is necessary to ensure the safety of the majority.”

You hesitated, fingers drumming along your thigh.

“I’ll pay you,” he offered.

Your lenses narrowed at him. “Do you pay any of the others?”

“Not for that. For deliveries.” He gestured vaguely toward the direction of your bakery. “The caf needs more supply the more people we get. It’s hard to feed all of them sometimes.”

You seemed unimpressed, but you folded your arms and cocked your head. “Weekly?”

“If you want.”

“How much?”

“Full price. Plus delivery fee.”

You stared at him for a long moment—longer than Miguel could stand, nor possessed the patience for waiting for a response.

He didn’t say it often, made a point not to. He had to maintain his reputation as the cold and calculating team leader to keep his bluff in with the rowdier, more rebellious ones of the bunch. But for you threatening to walk right back out of his life again he’d do anything. “Please.”

“...Fine. I’ll give it a month.” You pointed at him, half-stepping forward to jab the end of your index finger directly into his solar plexus. Even he, as strong as he was, flinched a little at the sharp sensation that lanced through his torso. “After that, I’m free to do what I please. Entiendes**?”

“Entiendo***.” He allowed himself to relax, just a little. You were always a woman of your word. “Thank you.”

You shook your head, grumbling to yourself, and slung off the side of the building into a wide arc.

The trip b. ack to your place felt longer, somehow. You both removed your suits once more in case anyone walked by the windows. Silence pervaded the storefront besides necessary directions as Miguel helped you to package up the entire day’s supply of baked goods. Once they were stacked and buckled into a cart, you blew an errant strand of hair out of your face and propped your hands on your waist. “Okay. Now what, jefe****?”

Miguel typed into the watch and summoned a portal in the middle of the room, mostly just out of spite in order to see your jaw drop.

“That…doesn’t seem safe,” you commented quietly.

“It’s perfectly safe. Provided the tunnel doesn’t collapse while you’re still inside.” Miguel strolled forward, not even looking back to make sure you followed.

He emerged into the cafeteria, seeing that it was empty save one soul. Much to his chagrin, Peter B. was scrounging through the lunch leftovers in the heated display cases. In his robe. (Again. How many times did Miguel have to tell him to dress like a respectable Spider-Man? Yes, the suit was present, but it made Peter look like a fool. Forget comfort.)

“Hey, Miguel! I was wondering where you were!” he greeted warmly, clapping a hand on the larger man’s shoulder. “I had a question that I wanted to…uh…ask you.” He trailed off, gaze locked beyond Miguel’s shoulder. He glanced up at him with a tight, uncertain expression, eyes brimming with questions and demanding answers immediately. “...Miguel.”

“Don’t,” Miguel bit out sharply, hearing you wheel the cart in through the portal and huffing slightly. “Don’t start.”

Peter’s brow wrinkled, but thankfully he said nothing besides, “Later.”

“Fine.” Miguel half-turned and gestured to the cafeteria with an open palm. “Not exactly where we usually start, but…you can leave all that here, someone will unload it.”

“Oh, okay.” You straightened and fanned your face slightly. “You wouldn’t think a bunch of flour and sugar would get so heavy unless it sticks to your hips.” Your expression brightened slightly as you spotted Miguel’s cohort. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Peter stepped up and extended a hand to you, and although he’d expressed his concern to Miguel through a look alone he directed complete warmth to you with a smile. “I take it you’re new here. The name’s Peter Parker. Or, one of them, at least. You can call me Peter B. if it makes it easier.”

“I…” You quirked a brow. “How many of you are there, exactly?”

“More than I could ever bother to keep track of.” He looked down at the boxes in the cart, eyes lighting up with delight. “Ohh. Tell me you brought donuts.”

“Not donuts, but…” You stooped and hefted the top box into your arms, peeling back the lid and displaying a dozen meticulously decorated cupcakes. “I have these.”

“Bless you. You’re an angel.” Peter took one in each hand immediately, glancing at Miguel. “I’ve been so tired of all those stale muffins.”

Miguel clenched his jaw. The smell wafting from the box was making his mouth water, and he was acutely reminded that he’d eaten nothing substantial all day. Cupcakes wouldn’t be much better, he knew. He didn’t have the heart to take one.

“I’ll take you to the lab to get you a dimensional travel watch, then Peter will give you the grand tour,” he said, moving to turn in the general direction of the main corridor.

“Voluntold, much?” quipped the shorter man.

“Wait.”

Miguel did, fists bunching at his sides. “What?”

“Here.” You eyed the selection with scrutiny, fingers delicately moving each dessert around until they enclosed your quarry. The caramel drizzle on top of the ivory buttercream was telling enough, but the scent made Miguel’s heart twist. You swallowed, held it out to him tentatively, eyes locking onto his—and though you didn’t say a word, he knew that you knew that he knew what the unspoken gesture meant: a question and a peace offering all at once. “Thank you. Y’know. For saving me. And for buying all this.”

He didn’t want to take it. But despite himself, he found his hand rising of its own accord to pluck the delicacy from your comparatively dainty hand. “Thanks.”

You set down the box on the countertop, and the pair of you followed Miguel as he led you through the facility. Peter initiated idle chit-chat to probe out some of the basics of your universe. You confessed that you didn’t understand a whole lot about the entire multiverse thing, but answered what you could. Miguel didn’t miss the fact that some of the tension around Peter’s eyes eased when you shared that you’d only just officially met Miguel today, but otherwise didn’t know him from Adam (or at least Earth 928B’s version).

Honestly, as if Miguel could have caused more damage in the span of twenty-four hours.

(He wouldn’t ever put it past himself.)

The lab was just as he’d left it, and LYLA was still nowhere to be seen. He’d have to coax her out of the network later to apologize—she could hold a grudge longer than anyone else he knew, and the silent treatment would only make it worse.

“Here.” He opened a compartment and fished out a new spare model, tossing it to you. You caught it effortlessly, brows rising. “You’ll have limited access until you’re shown the ropes, but that will keep your molecular structure stable, and you’ll be able to contact our AI LYLA.”

“You…oh, wow.” Your smile nearly blinded him. “My—he—uh…” You hesitated. “We never got to finish constructing her prototype in my universe—we lost everything in the explosion. I’m, um…glad she’s up and running in yours.”

Miguel nodded curtly, setting the cupcake down on the console. “We can worry about everything else later. Peter’ll show you around. You’re welcome here whenever, not just on duty.”

You returned his nod, biting your lip briefly, before you looped the device around your wrist and clicked it into place. “Okay. I’ll see you later, I guess.”

“Come on, it’s actually pretty nice once you learn how to navigate the maze. Honestly, it’s like a labyrinth, but you get used to it.” Peter wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and Miguel tamped down the instinctual urge to growl at the friendly gesture. “And don’t you worry about Miguel, he’s all bark and no bite. Just needs a nap these days.”

“Great, cool.” You lowered your voice, perhaps not realizing that Miguel could still hear you perfectly well. “What the hell do you feed him?” you questioned dubiously, jabbing a thumb at the taller man over your shoulder. “He’s fucking huge. Does he just eat protein with a spoon?”

“When he’s cranky, yes.” He didn’t miss the sly glance Peter cast him. Mischief twinkled in his eyes, and Miguel knew then that he’d get an earful about it later. “He’s picky about what flavor it is, too.”

“Peanut butter?” you supposed.

“Yes, actually.” Miguel strained his ears as the pair of you rounded the corner. “He’ll even mix it with regular peanut butter sometimes—the crunchy kind. On white bread, for carbs. Ugh.”

Your gag of distaste preluding the hiss of the doors shutting tugged at the corner of Miguel’s mouth, but when he noticed it, he schooled his expression once more. He turned on his heel and stepped up onto the central platform, keying in the command for it to rise into the darkened rafters. Now he could finally start on his report—with an addendum entailing your successful recruitment.

Miguel glanced at the cupcake still sitting innocuously on the console. He managed to ignore it for all of five minutes before the smell became too tempting to resist, his stomach growling insistently that he eat something.

He delicately peeled the paper from the bottom half as carefully as he could, fitting half the dessert into his mouth and chewing. The low rumble of contentment that rattled his chest was completely involuntary, and he was left reeling attempting to quash the heart-aching nostalgia that the flavors brought upon his tongue. He was reminded of Saturday evenings spent mixing batter, sampling more icing than what was left to decorate with, and the invitingly cozy scents of vanilla, almond extract, and baking that would permeate the apartment. You had habitually made desserts to last throughout the week—your half was always strawberry flavored.

Miguel sniffled, cleared his tightening throat after swallowing, and closed his welling eyes to savor the second half of the cupcake a little longer than the first, remiss that it would go.

You’d remembered, even after five long years.

Dulces tres leches. His favorite.

[cowgurrrl]

Can we get more LFTL dad Joel content? I love this series and you’re such a great writer!

Thank you for your sweet words!! I love some LFTL dad!joel content!! This ended up being more family fluff but it still works!

Love's Gonna Live Here

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: The story of the Museum Day [1.1k]

Warnings: a little bit of grief but mostly fluff

Ever since Joel took Ellie to the museum for her birthday, she's wanted to go back every year. It's a relatively easy journey, and it's gotten easier as you pass through more and more times. At first, it was just you, Ellie, and Joel. Then it was you three, Tommy, Maria, and Camille. Then it was the six of you plus Charlie. Then Dina, Jesse, and JJ started tagging along too. Soon enough, you had a pretty big group going to the museum regularly. Dina and Maria even conspired to set up field trips through the elementary school. Joel was hesitant initially, but once word got out, keeping it under wraps was impossible. Before the first field trip, you and your little family went out to clean things up. Tear down old boards, sweep away leaves and dust, and even organize whatever dinosaur pamphlets were left.

After that first time, it became an annual event. Joel would lead the way, knowing the forest like the back of his hand, and Ellie, after saying she could never be a teacher, would go on tangents about space exploration and evolution to the next generation of students. The museum got a little cleaner every year, and things got a little more normal. You never ran into Infected or Raiders, and if you did, you had the mayor of Jackson and the Millers to keep you safe. It's a win for everyone. Ellie gets to share her knowledge and excitement, you and Joel get to get out of Jackson, and Charlie gets to learn new things. You also like to think the scientists and astronauts who did all that work are happy to know people are still learning about them even after the apocalypse.

This year is the first year Charlie's class gets to go on the field trip. She's ecstatic, telling everyone that her mommy, daddy, and Bellie will take them "to the stars," as Ellie told Charlie years ago. Dina, Jesse, and JJ come along too. JJ is finally growing out of the chubby toddler stage and more into an actual kid. It's scary to see how much he looks like Jesse but acts like Ellie, but you love watching him and Charlie interact.

As you walk to the museum, Joel takes turns carrying Charlie and JJ on his shoulders, pointing out different types of plants, and telling the kids how to look out for poison ivy. He tells them stories of what life was like before. He talks about cities like New York and Chicago and explains how cars work. At one point, you swear you can pinpoint the dreaminess in his voice as he talks about coffee. He talks about Sarah, too. He tells the kids about how she would scamper up big rocks and give him shit for wanting to go on hikes and things like that. She would be in her forties if she were alive today. Jane would be in her thirties. Still, you both imagine them as the fourteen and ten-year-olds they'll always be. You have nothing else to go on.

When you get to the museum, Ellie holds JJ and Charlie's hands as they walk through the exhibits. Ellie goes on and on about what year we went to space, what animal was the first to be in orbit, and the order of the planets. You and Joel hang back, letting the parents and kids follow Ellie. This is your favorite part: watching Ellie be herself. She cracks jokes, answers questions, and doesn't hesitate to get down on their level if needed. She's a natural. Dina watches Ellie, too, adoration and love so clearly shining in her eyes. You wonder if that's how Joel looks at you when you're not looking.

"What're you thinkin' bout?" Joel asks, bumping you with his shoulder, and you shrug.

"Thinking bout our girls."

"Which ones?"

"All of 'em." You say, and he smiles. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, kissing your temple. You follow Ellie's lead through the museum and watch Charlie get excited as she listens to her big sister. As she makes it up to the dinosaur skeletons, Ellie looks at Joel knowingly and pulls a familiar brown hat out of her bag. You laugh as she throws it and perfectly lands it on the dinosaur's head. All the kids roar with laughter, but Ellie is looking at Joel.

"He's wearing a little hat!" Charlie exclaims, and Ellie smiles.

"Yeah, he is," Ellie says. Joel sniffles next to you, and you rub his back as he tries not to cry. All the kids get a turn in the spaceship, flicking the different buttons and pretending to blast off. You remember when Ellie did that for the first time. She was so little. Now, she's holding a kid on her hip and Dina's hand. She's a grown woman.

As the day wears on, Maria and Tommy start taking people back to town, but you, Joel, Ellie, and Charlie stay. You sit in the middle of the museum, watching the clouds pass through the skylight. Charlie sits in Ellie's lap, and Joel has an arm around her shoulder. You wish you had a camera to take a picture of how peaceful they look. Instead, you commit the image to memory and sit with them.

"I had fun with you today, Bellie," Charlie says, looking up at Ellie, and Ellie raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah?" She asks, and Charlie nods. "I had fun with you, too, kiddo."

"How old were you when you came here for the first time?" Charlie asks, and Ellie meets Joel's eyes over her head.

"Sixteen. Mom and Dad brought me here before you were born."

"That was a long time ago," Charlie says candidly, and Ellie laughs.

"Yeah, it was," Ellie agrees, kissing the top of Charlie's head. "You know, Dad pushed me in the river while we were on our way here the first time."

"Really?" Charlie asks with big eyes, looking between her and Joel, and you smile. Ellie nods with big, animated eyes.

"And you know what?"

"What?"

"I couldn't even swim."

"Daddy!" Charlie scolds Joel. "Bellie could've drowned!"

"You're right, Charlie Girl. I could've drowned."

"You weren't gonna drown!" Joel defends himself, and Ellie hums. "I was helpin' you build your confidence in the water."

"Mommy!" Charlie turns her attention to you. "Why didn't you stop Daddy from pushing Ellie?"

"Mommy was pregnant and shouldn't have even been on that trip!"

"That's true. You probably shouldn't have." Ellie says, and you laugh. The four of you settle against each other, sleepily watching the clouds move and the sky turn orange. The girls are tucked under one of Joel's arms, and you're tucked under the other, a heap of love and warmth. At one point, Joel kisses Ellie's temple and squeezes her shoulders. Then, so quiet you almost miss it, he says, "You did great today, kiddo." Ellie looks up at him, Charlie resting against her chest, and smiles sleepily.

"Thanks, Dad."

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Youre next gen kids are all sooo adorable! They do takebafter theyre parents in theyre rainbow design!!

And I have a lot of questions If you dont mind, just for fun!

Having Lucina in DR how would Lloyd go with being a teacher for Sora and Arin? Does the kids learn the rising dragon technique? How do the next generation kids relationship be with Arin and Sora? How is the Smith children's relationship after Blaire burned Briar? In the events of DR where would the kids be? Trying to help or having to stay at the monastery? At the beginning of DR are Arin and Sora the oldest ones? Would the two of them be the responsible eldest? If Quinn and Finn were separated after the merge did they know of each other? How was the reunion? How was amnesic Jay's parenting style? Since Cam and Jesse are so close would she ever have a sudden independent/Rebellious phase? Would you say they're relationship is similar to the mother and daughter in the movie 'turning red'? Does Blaire bond with Arin over being powerless? Would Blaire want to learn Spinjitsu? Since Kai was gone would the kids be wit Skylor? Since most children are separated from one parental figure over the years how do they react or bond when they finally meet them?

Sorry that's a lot!><

I don't call 'em the Mini-Skittle Squad for nothing! x3

And, all right, just for fun:

Having Lucina in DR how would Lloyd go with being a teacher for Sora and Arin? Does the kids learn the rising dragon technique? <- Things would still be the same, though with Lucina, he realizes it's as much of a struggle as him being trained was–she's nothing but raw power, impatience, and the innate desire to just destroy and get things over with quickly, but Lloyd in his wisened age is like "okay listen sweetheart, been there, done that, doesn't work, stop before someone dies, please–"

As things are now though, none of the kids know Rising Dragon

How do the next generation kids relationship be with Arin and Sora? <- Hiyah

How is the Smith children's relationship after Blaire burned Briar? <- Blythe and Briar were already somewhat close with one another since they're infinitely more chill that Blaire ever was, so after that happens, Blaire feels even more estranged :9

In the events of DR where would the kids be? Trying to help or having to stay at the monastery? <-

Trying to Help: Quinn, Lucina, Cam, Blaire Trying to Stay Put: Blythe, Seven, Finn, Briar

At the beginning of DR are Arin and Sora the oldest ones? <- Yessssss, but like, just barely older than Seven, Lucina (on technicality), and Blythe.

Would the two of them be the responsible eldest? <- They try to be, but Seven and Blythe tend to out-responsible them most of the time jgfdsfgd

If Quinn and Finn were separated after the merge did they know of each other? How was amnesic Jay's parenting style? <- They knew of each other, but just barely, as they would've been around 3 when The Merge happened. Amnesiac!Jay would've been a little distant, knowing this is his child but not even know who he had the child with (let alone that there's another one), but he's still got the inner instinct to not abandon a child in his care and does his best to make the most for Quinn—but for Quinn it's still like living with a stranger in a familiar man's body hgfddsa

Since Cam and Jesse are so close would she ever have a sudden independent/Rebellious phase? <- Yeah, but it's more of a direct cause of her unresolved feelings about Cole less-so than Jesse :V

Would you say they're relationship is similar to the mother and daughter in the movie 'turning red'? <- Jesse wouldn't be THAT drastic/embarrassing, but he is extremely protective over Cam while she's young (as he did almost lose her when The Merge occurred). Once she learns Spinjitzu and starts coming into more of her own, he begins to loosen up a little bit (as the last thing he wants is to be as controlling as his own dad was, brrr)

Does Briar bond with Arin over being powerless? <- Yes!

Would Blaire want to learn Spinjitsu? <- Yes (and Briar also does once she sees Arin able to pull it off)

Since Kai was gone would the kids be wit Skylor? <- The kids would be with Skylor, and my current timeline is that Blythe was born before the Merge (with Skylor giving up her powers to him so Kai wouldn't lose his), and Skylor was pregnant with Blaire when the Merge went down. Briar doesn't come around until Kai and Skylor are able to reunite, hence why she's so much younger than everyone else.

Since most children are separated from one parental figure over the years how do they react or bond when they finally meet them? <- Blythe is a little hesitant reuniting with Kai, since they always did struggle to be close when he was younger, but as Kai's definitely mellowed out a LOT since The Merge, they're able to reconnect on much more even ground. Blaire, of course, is ecstatic to meet their dad with no strings attached, and Briar is probably the only one that never had to worry about one missing parent :d

If we go with that ask from the other day, then Quinn/Jay would reunite with Nya/Finn at the tournament, and that reunion would be full of heartbreak, betrayal, and angst hgfghfd. But Quinn would ultimately go with her mother and brother and that probably wouldn't go well with Jay as he is now...

I keep flip-flopping on when Cam meets Cole—it's either before Cole goes on his lil weird Wu spirit quest (which would also be when Sora gives him that mech-disc thingy), which would mean the reunion has more time to be heartfelt and not as...tragic...OR its when he and the Finders arrive at the monastery, and then there's awkward explanations and lots of outrage on Jesse's end so its not nearly as soft and sweet ;w; Either way, Cam's excited to have Cole around again except he KEEPS LEAVING but once she's older she realizes "Wait that was kinda messed up wasn't it?", hence the aforementioned rebellious phase aaaaaaa- (but the irony is, she's just taking after Cole......!)

Since we have no idea where Pixal is, I'm wondering if I should have her holded up with Zane in his pod, but we don't know that deal about that EITHER, so I've also been contemplating her being the only one being entirely separated form her family after the Merge, but if anyone could last out in the Mergedrealms on their own, it's Seven, and they'd make their way to the Monastery shortly after Lucina does.

Also-

Lucina: Well, well, well. Hello, Mother e-e

Harumi: ...I have never given birth in my life–?!

Lloyd: Yeeeeep, this is as awkward as I knew it was gonna be

[anxiouspotatorants]

So I finally watched 6.08 in its entirety and of course I have my two cents on the (in)famous “WhY did you DROP out of YALE” speech:

From what I’ve gathered, some people seem to think Jess saved Rory with that speech and that there was no way she was going back to Yale without it. I’ve also seen mutterings about how Jess’ speech was rude and presumptous and that Rory would have gone back regardless of Jess’ presence. I think the truth is somewhere in the middle.

There’s no denying that things in the dropout life were piling up for Rory. Moving in to the main house had her dealing with Emily’s surveillance in full force, she was spending most of her time organizing events she had no interest in and driving her drunk boyfriend and his drunk friends home in the night, and she was shown to miss academic life several times. Richard and Emily had started fighting over whether they had taken the right path for getting Rory back into Yale, and Lorelai insisted that Rory would find her way eventually. Something was going to happen at some point.

But returning to Yale wasn’t guaranteed. Not because I think Jess was the only one who could get her back to Yale specifically, but because re-enrolling was a time-sensitive issue. Without someone to give her some kind of rant, Rory could very well have sunk deeper into a hedonistic route with Logan, or waited too long for re-enrollment and had to apply elsewhere. She’d still get somewhere, but it would take significantly more time.

So she needed someone to shake her furiously for two minutes begging her to figure out what she wanted to do. In theory, that person could be any significant character on the show, but when you add in context, the list narrows down a lot: 

We were shown multiple times that Lorelai wasn’t going to be the person because they were at a test of their relationship and Rory was doubting her mother’s judgement.

Luke wasn’t going to do anything like that without Lorelai’s OK.

Richard and Emily would only be able to convince Rory with financial extortion, and that would ruin the relationship they fought so hard to keep with Rory.

While Logan was her boyfriend at the time, he was also the person who had known her for the least amount of time. He would also have been accused of hypocricy by Rory due to how he probably would’ve dropped out if he could too (or at least acted like it during season 5 and early season 6).

Paris’ opinions on Rory’s life decisions tend to be written as jokes, so even if what she said made sense, Rory probably wouldn’t have taken it seriously. At best, Paris’ words could become support to an argument made by someone else.

While Lane could’ve been an interesting choice (especially since she’s Rory’s oldest friend and arguably knows her in ways not even Lorelai or any of the boyfriends do), she’s never established as truly questioning of Rory’s life decisions. The only real fight they have is over Rory spending too much time with Dean in season 1, but other than that Lane tends to support Rory with any decision she makes.

Dean had kind of lost any sway he had with Rory by the final breakup. Him warning Rory over half a season before she actually dropped out would’ve been possessive (considering he could only warn her about Logan and the LDB), and the breakup showed that he essentially gave up on fitting into the elder Gilmore world or helping Rory make her own.

Which leaves us with Jess. There are multiple reasons why Jess ends up working. The first is the fact that they haven’t seen each other in ages. While everyone else has seen the slow descent, Jess comes in having last seen Rory doing just fine at Yale and getting close with Dean again. He’s missed a lot, and realizing that helps Rory understand just how much she’s changed. Second: he comes back improved. A lot of people have already pointed this out, but Jess actually becoming a writer and making something out of himself essentially proves to Rory that she was right about something everyone else that she was wrong about. It also shows her that it’s possible to come out of the lowest lows up to doing something you love. And finally: Jess has a history of telling things like they are. He demanded clarification at the start of season 3 when Rory still dated Dean after their kiss. He had multiple complex fights with Luke. And he also knew how to be supportive without being a blind cheerleader (see: the car scene in season 2). Rory has known Jess long enough to understand that he isn’t trying to be malicious, and also long enough to know that he does actually know her. It’s not so much that he knows her better than everyone else as much as the combination of how close they once were, how time shows the shifts in her life, and how Jess’ glow up can inspire her.

[queenofbaws]

Hi Queenie! I just wanted to ask you one more question! For The Almosts series, you did a character study on the core four: Sam, Josh, Chris and Ashley, I was wondering would you ever do a character study on the other four: Mike, Emily, Matt and Jess? For example another version of The Almosts which explores the perspectives of these four characters instead (the lead up to Beth & Hannah dying, the events which took place after their death and before Josh invited them again to the cabin)? Of course no pressure I was just wondering :)) hope you have a lovely day!! And once again, I love your writing 🥺❤️

well hello again!!! 🥰

it's so funny you'd ask this, because i did briefly consider writing a fic like that as the (almost)s was coming to a close! i very much thought about writing the other side of the coin - the fallout between emily, jess, mike, and matt taking place while the almosts went through THEIR whole deal - but ultimately...it seemed a little too complicated to get into :\

i never thought i'd say this, but like. s...spoilers for the (almost)s under the cut?????? hahahahahaha

considering the ultimate "twist" of the almosts, that (assuming you picked chapter 33, (the end) to be your "canon" finale) the events of until dawn are all josh's screenplay...there wouldn't be any real reason for the two groups to come back together again, much less go to the mountain together.

the more i thought about it, the more i saw the emily-jess-matt-mike story resolving, well, with more hurt feelings and fewer apologies. with the (almost)s, i was able to come up with a way to make sure everyone was friends in the end again - they fought, they argued, sometimes they hurt one other, but at the core of things, they were always able to find their way back to each other in some way or another. i'm POSITIVE there are people out there who could come up with a really emotionally powerful way to do the same with the other four, but i just don't think i'm the one to do it 😔 at least not in the universe where the (almost)s takes place - there, i really think the way the story ends for those four is that they drift apart and the in-fighting wins out.

and, don't get me wrong, again, i'm sure that could be a GORGEOUS, poignant story too, just not one i see myself telling in a meaningful way.

[ggsworldstory]

Chapter 3 Act 1: Maize madness

Swiftly sliding across the landscape, the masked hunter had traveled far and wide,gliding across torrents worth of water that she commanded beneath her feet, the wind relentlessly whipping through her ginger hair,stopping only for a moment to speak into her wrist communicator, “he’s close, I can feel it…”

Meanwhile, GG and Terry were approaching the sight of their latest adventure, after all the excitement they’d been through not long ago, they were more than in need of some unwinding but as they trekked onwards, Terry couldn’t help but notice his dapperly dressed friend was looking rather glum, his head down, staring deep into the reflection of his gold crown

“Something up?” Terry raised concern

“Wha? oh it's nothing, just thinking… it’s been so long since I seen Jess last, and even longer outside of a dream while I was in a coma, I’m happy to be seeing the world and all, but it’s just not the same without her, I don’t know if she’s still stuck in that casino, dead or alive or… or….” GG spiraled, his mind racing with horrid possibilities 

“woah woah, calm down, gotta say, it’s not like you to be so worried”

“I’m sorry, it’s just different, I mean I’ve been doing good on her promise, at least I think I am but still, y’know?”

“Eh, can’t say I do, not like I've got any experience with relationships”

“Oh well, y’know, me n her, we weren't … officially, uhhhh, technically…”

“You never told her how you felt, did you?”

“I never told her”

“Yeesh, you really were a coward before I met you, huh?”

“Hey!”

“I’m just messing with ya, still, it’s no use getting so worked up over past mistakes instead of moving forward, you of all people should know that well”

“Yeah, I guess…”

Soon enough, the delinquent duo had arrived at their destination,a small town pop-up fair. In an instant, GG could feel his spirits lifted, even if just a little as he was soaking in the cozy autumn atmosphere as the two approached the main event, the corn maze.

“It’s a lot bigger in person…” GG said in awe

“Yep” the person running the ticket counter remarked “just last week we had 5 separate search and rescue teams get called and half of them ended up getting lost too!” he smugly japed with a hearty guffaw “but sir, you are gonna have to leave that behind” he said, turning to Terry

“My Jetpack?” 

“Sorry, Corn maze policy” he said pointing to a sign of guidelines which GG approached to inspect more closely 

“Yup, says right here, no cacti, no camouflage, no jetpacks… no robots?”

“87’ Don’t ask.”

“Well, meet ya on the other side!” GG exclaimed as he immediately bolted headfirst into the maze, moving up and down and all around, making every sharp turn with focus and agility until he was outta the maze before so much as a goal post could even get there

“Ha ha! Now that was fun!” he said with a chuckle

“Tell me about it” Terry said as he stood there

“How did-?!” GG was taken aback before he took another look at his surroundings and found he’d just ran back to the start of the maze

“All this time and you still can’t stop yourself running headlong into everything, huh?” the cowboy lightheartedly snarked

“You should really be used to it by now”

The two gave their tickets and made their way inside the harrowing heaps of hedges, unbeknownst to them however, the masked hunter had arrived, spotting her target entering the maze, she wasted no time marching in after him

“Ticket please” the ticket collector interrupted, she stopped for a moment, only to raise her arm, raising a powerful geyser of water from the ground, launching him high into the air

 And with that, she took her first steps into the maze to finally claim her targets…

Only to immediately lose them in the first turn

What followed was many, many hours of hopelessly lost, mindless meandering akin to that of a sock tumbling in a drier only slip through an unattended hole into the ventilation, perfectly fall through the machinery, into a stray sewer grate, and ultimately end up in the laundry basket of a ninja turtle

They were twisted, turned around put through enough dead ends to fill a cemetery, and beared witness to so many of the same pieces of corn for so long, they could have seen them grow from saplings to full grown stalks

“Ok…” Terry grumbled, all the time the duo had spent wandering and staring at ever so homogeneous walls of corn, clearly taking a toll on him “after all this time, the exit should be… here!” he said as the two emerged from another pathway, only to find themselves at the same dead end they’d gotten to know well enough to consider marrying

“OH COME ON!” Terry shouted in unbelievable frustration

“What is it?” GG exhaustedly reacted as he followed Terry in

“We’ve taken every path in this place and ended up at this scarecrow EIGHT TIMES!”

“Wait, how do we know it’s really the same one?”

“Because it still has the bullet holes I put into it the last four times!” Terry snapped in anger as he unloaded yet another clip into the poor straw and twine man”

“Surprised they let ya keep that”

And with that, the two could only lay in the abyss of vegetables surrounding them in a desperate bid to recharge their psyches and figure out their next move, soon enough, GG would perk up with a plan

“What if-”

“No.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet”

“Lemme guess, you were gonna rocket jump to get a higher viewpoint and attract a bunch of attention, again”

“...lucky guess”

“Have you really learned nothing from last time?”

“I don’t see what’s the big deal, last time was in a massive bustling city, what kinda bounty hunter’s gonna be in some pop-up fair in the middle of nowhere?”

“It’s just too risky!”

“Oh, so you’d rather walk in circles for another 3 hours?”

“. . . Just make it quick”

As this was happening, the masked hunter continued her search, her largely stoic nature broken by the sheer confusion and frustration that came with meandering about the amber-teal labyrinth for what felt like an eternity, even despite remaining completely silent and her face completely concealed behind the large literal poker faced facade, anyone could tell she was thinking that this was absolutely ridiculous, hopeless even

When all of a sudden she heard a distinct jet-like “fwoosh” she looked up, low and behold there was her hat and crown sporting target, prompting her to spring into action,digging her fists into the ground before launching herself with a powerful geyser

GG scanned the landscape as he was suspended in the air “I think I see the exit this-” abruptly he found himself tackled right out of the sky! “GG!” Terry cried out in express, he thought to come running to his aid but he still had no means of escaping the maze

Meanwhile GG found himself disoriented as he was thrusted into the ground just outside the maze, but he quickly came to as he opened his eyes to the masked figure winding up a punch with a rock encased fist!

Reacting fast, GG rolled out of the way of the blow, standing up with just as much to continually sidestep her stone swings “Jeez! I know I tend to rush into things, but this is ridiculous!”

This flurry of blows continued until GG grabbed the masked agresor’s stone fist, abruptly halting the fight “at least take a moment to introduce yourself, hi, George ‘GG’ Maxwell, you probably already knew that, and you are?”

Not bothering for a moment to humor the boy’s japes, the hunter thrusted her arm behind her, launching her stone fist with GG still holding on until he slammed

“I did NOT miss these silent types…” the boy groaned, he wouldn't stay still for long as he saw a torrent of water blasting towards him, prompting him to dash away, and keep on dashing as his hunter moved her arms to and fro, conducting geyser after geyser to burst from the ground below, barely being able to zig and zag to evade them

As this continued, GG couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of familiarity, “but why?” he briefly wondered, but he had no time to dwell on these thoughts as he swiftly drifted to make a beeline towards his opponent

But the masked aggressor stood her ground as she reeled her hands back before forcefully whipping them back, directing every geyser that’d risen to blast at the toppat

This had no effect in slowing GG down as he continued charging full speed ahead before unleashing a mighty fiery punch at the river bank’s worth of water cascading at him

But this would only cause a massive cloud of steam to appear from the blow, rendering him all but completely blind, GG looked around frantically as he stopped in a vain attempt to anticipate the hunter’s next move, but she wasn’t to his front, sides, or behind

Then he noticed the area got just a bit darker, then he looked up

In an instant, GG found himself trapped under a massive hollow block of stone, with the hunter standing atop, she took this moment to have a breather after such a hard fought battle before getting ready to bring the bounty back…

But all of a sudden, she felt the subtlest rumbling beneath her feet, the slightest crackling could be heard until abruptly

Blam! GG rose like a phoenix through the stone uppercutting the aggressor far off the stone enclosure, victorious against yet another hunter, GG took a moment to boast to his foe

“Hah, underestimated me there, didn’t you…” his voice would gradually trail off as he saw that the hunter had gotten back up, yet her mask remained on the ground

“Jess?!” GG stood there, stunned, he couldn’t believe what was happening, she gave little to no reply, only muttering under her breath “Stronger than I thought…” before making her retreat

This prompted the boy to snap out of his shock, “wait Jess! Come back! I didn’t know- I never would’ve-!” he stuttered and stammered as he tried to catch up, readying to run as fast as he could to get to her, but just as he could begin to build a charge, she tapped some buttons on her wrist communicator and was gone in a flash, leaving GG to just stand there and process the events he just lived through

As he did so, Terry finally emerged from the maze, whacking at the hedges with the scarecrow he was left with, dropping it as he ran to check up on his friend “GG! Are you ok? Who was that?!”

GG stood still, staring in awe and slowly spoke out, “She’s… still alive…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Act 1~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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