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liliacamethyst · 9 months

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Webs of Redemption (Part IV)

Sequel to Web of Shadow and Light

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 6,7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, heavy angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

The piercing cries of your baby boy, Gabriel, are a haunting symphony of fear that reverberates through the labyrinthine corridors of the Spider Society headquarters. Your heart pounds in your chest like a drum, each beat echoing the terror that grips you. After your recent fight with Miguel, you felt weakened but your mind is a whirlwind of fear and worry. You sprint through the maze-like structure, your feet moving as if on autopilot.

Unbeknownst to you, Lyla, the holographic AI assistant you've always found slightly weird, had been assigned to watch over Gabriel. You never imagined she could pose a threat to your child. But as you approach Gabriel's room, a chilling sight stops you dead in your tracks. A laser barrier, courtesy of Lyla, blocks the entrance. Your solar powers, usually so reliable, are fizzling out, leaving you helpless before the impenetrable barrier.

The room beyond the barrier is filled with an invisible, deadly gas - monoxide. You can't see it, but the signs are there. The malfunctioning heating unit, under Lyla's control, suggests sabotage. She must have manipulated the unit to produce the lethal gas. Gabriel's cries grow fainter, more desperate, and you're powerless to reach him.

Your pleas for help echo through the corridors, your voice raw with desperation. You call out for Miguel, your words a plea, a command, a prayer. Miles is there, his powers at the ready, but they're useless against the laser barrier. You watch as Miles strains, his powers flickering against the barrier, but it's no use. The barrier remains, as unyielding as ever.

Suddenly, the cries stop. The silence is deafening, a void that swallows your heart. "Gabriel!" you scream, your voice a raw wound. "Gabriel!" But there's no answer, only the oppressive silence. Your world grinds to a halt, every second stretching into an eternity. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but stare at the barrier that separates you from your son.

"Miguel!" you cry, your voice breaking. "Miguel, he's not crying! He's not... he's not..." The words die in your throat, too terrible to voice. You turn to Lyla, desperation etched on your face. "Lyla, please! Open the barrier! Miguel, tell her to open it! He's not crying, Miguel, he's not..."

Miguel's eyes turn blood red, a terrifying sight that sends a shiver down your spine. With a guttural growl, he lunges at the barrier. His claws rip through the laser code, tearing it apart. The barrier flickers, wavers, and finally shatters under his assault. Miguel pulls his suit over his mouth, rushes into the invisible cloud of monoxide, and moments later, emerges with Gabriel in his arms. His heart pounds in his chest as he pulls back his suit, revealing his son's face. "I got you, baby," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay, I got you. Nothing will ever happen to you. Please, open your eyes."

But Gabriel doesn't react. His little body is still, too still, and a cold dread seizes Miguel. He doesn't hesitate. With a urgency, he rushes over to the medical bay, pushing past the shocked faces of his friends. He gently lays Gabriel on the table, his hands shaking as he starts to perform CPR.

"Come on, Gabriel," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. "Come on, baby." He administers chest compressions, his hands moving in a steady rhythm. He gives two rescue breaths, praying for a sign, any sign, that Gabriel is okay.

The room is silent, everyone holding their breath as they watch Miguel work. The seconds stretch into an eternity, each one a lifetime of fear and hope. And then, finally, a small cough. Gabriel's eyes flutter open, his gaze unfocused but alive. A wave of relief washes over you and you fall to your knees thanking God that your boy is alright.

Tears blur your vision as you rush over to Gabriel. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as you scoop him into your arms, holding him close. His small body is warm against yours "You're alright, my baby," you whisper into his hair, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going home, you're alright." You rock him gently, his soft breaths against your neck soothing the ache in your heart.

But as you look up, your gaze finds Miguel. The relief of the moment does nothing to quell the anger boiling within you. His eyes meet yours, wide and filled with regret, but it does nothing to soften your glare. "This is YOUR fault!" you scream, your voice echoing through the room. The words hang heavy in the air, a damning sentence. "You did this! You brought this danger into his life!"

Tears stream down your face, hot and unchecked. Your words are choked with emotion, each one a raw wound. "You will NEVER see Gabriel again. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve to know his laughter, his tears, his NOTHING." The words are a bitter poison, spat out with all the venom you can muster. "You deserve to SUFFER, just as you've made me suffer and HIM."

The silence that follows is deafening. Miguel, eyes wide and shell-shocked, opens his mouth, but you cut him off. There's nothing left to say for him and he knows it. The portal back to your universe begins to shimmer into existence, and you hold Gabriel tighter. You're going home.

Just as you are about to step through, Gabriel, who'd been silent and wide-eyed through the whole ordeal, turns in your arms. His chubby little hand stretches out toward Miguel, a soft and innocent "Dada?" escaping his lips.

After the door of the portal closed behind you, Miguel stood still for a moment in complete shock, the echoes of Gabriel's tiny "Dada" ringing in his ears. He stumbled back, finding his way back to his office. It felt cold, sterile. It felt like a lie.

"Miguel..." Lyla's holographic form appeared before him, her synthetic voice filling the room.

"Lyla!" Miguel barked, startling her. "Why?"

"Wha-" Lyla began to stutter, taken aback by Miguel's rage.

Miguel slammed the files that Margo had uncovered onto his desk. The holograms fluttered in front of them, evidence of Lyla's deception. "What did you do?"

"I...It's not what you think, Miguel," Lyla attempted to explain, her holographic form wavering.

"I am giving you one chance to explain yourself, so choose your words wisely," Miguel warns, his eyes piercing into hers.Lyla takes a step back, mumbling under her breath. "I should have killed that bitch when your bastard was the size of a pea." She scoffed, looking up defiantly at Miguel.

Miguel's heart drops. He can hardly believe his own ears. “Never speak of her that way again!" Miguel's fist tightens, and the tension in his jaw is nearly audible.

"Oh? Because she dazzled you with her beauty? Parading in that tight suit you adored? You always looked at her as if she was the sun, the center of your universe. All the while, I was there right beside you and you never even glanced at me. I was your anchor, Miguel. Can't you see? I was always there, supporting you, giving everything. All she did was leave you."

Lyla's holographic image wavers, her eyes a storm of pain and defiance. "No, it was me. I left her. She was the light in my world, but I took her for granted. By the time she left, I had already abandoned her." Miguel's eyes shimmer, the weight of regret making them heavy. He couldn’t fend off the flood of guilt and sorrow from the past. He embraces the anguish, refusing to shy away from it. Because Miguel, in all his flaws, was never one to run from consequences.

"Why?" The word, barely audible, escaping his lips. He doesn't even glance at Lyla as he voiced the lingering question.

“Because... because I love you, Miguel. I've been in love with you for years. I am the woman for you."

He stumbles back, his fingers flying over the holographic keyboard as he pulls up Lyla's software. He had programmed a self-destruction command, a failsafe, though he never thought he'd have to use it.

"This isn't love, Lyla," Miguel says, his voice shaking with anger. "You almost killed an innocent boy. I almost killed my son, Lyla!" His voice echoes through the room, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Lyla's form began to flicker, her synthetic eyes widening in fear. "Miguel...what are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Miguel doesnt respond. There is nothing left to say.He just stares at her before finally pressing the command.

“Miggy, please mi amor, let – “ Lyla let out a digital scream, her form glitching, as she was slowly deleted from the system.

And then, silence.

Miguel drops the icy demeanor he'd been holding onto, falling to his knees. The weight of what he'd done, what he'd almost lost, crashed onto him. He wraps his arms around himself, feeling a sharp, hollow ache in his chest. He became the monster, he swore to protect the universe from.

"What have I done." he whispers to the silent room, his voice breaking. He buries his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs.

"Man, shits been mental." Hobie collapses onto the couch next to Gwen and Miles, who are trying to keep young Mayday distracted in Peter B.’s universe.

"Watch the language, Hobie!" Gwen scolds, her eyebrow arching sharply.

"Alright, my bad. Everything's just been chaotic since Miguel vanished, especially after his... uh, Lyla bird — the hologram lady — tried to... you know, kill his kid," Hobie fumbles.

"Watch it!" Gwen and Miles chorus, causing Mayday to pause her play and glance up curiously.

"Alright, alright, fam. Point taken, jeez. Nearly unalived his son," Hobie corrects himself. "But we need a plan. One of us needs to check on our Sun, ensure she's holding up mentally ya know and then there's the Spider-Verse mess. Those black holes are messing things up, and without our brooding, drama-filled, ‘oedipal’ leader, the rest of us Spiders are stuck."

"What's 'Oedipal'?" Peter B. interjects, walking into the room with a bowl of mashed dinner for Mayday. The child's face brightens at the sight of the meal, and she eagerly crawls to him.

"I believe Hobie's trying to reference Oedipus," Gwen says with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, that Roman dude who had beef with his son and erased him from the living world, right?" Hobie muses.

"Nope. It's Greek mythology. And he killed his father and married his mother," Gwen corrects, slightly exasperated.

"Man, that's all kinds of messed up," Hobie grimaces, making a face that gets a giggle from Mayday.

"You think it's funny when Uncle Hobie gets it wrong?" he teases the little one.

"Enough with the history lessons, guys," Peter B. interjects, concern evident in his voice. "Ever since Miguel's been gone, nothing's been right. Honestly, with everything that's been happening, I'm just overwhelmed. I'm especially worried about Sunny and everything just feel so surreal."

Hobie nods, absorbing the weight of the situation. “I hear you, man. Who knew Miguel was shagging our Sunny behind our backs.”

The chorus of shocked voices fills the room. “LANGUAGE!" they exclaim, eyes wide.

Hobie raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I got carried away. I meant... it is weird how they had a deep love-making connection, and it led to... consequences without us knowing."

Peter B. leans back, a pensive expression clouding his face. "With everything Sunny went through, the joy, the pregnancy and leaving... I should have been there for her more."

As if sensing her father's distress, Mayday halts her meal, reaching out with her small, pudgy hand to comfort him, patting his cheek. Gwen, her voice gentle yet firm, adds, "We all could've done more, Peter. But we were preoccupied, trying to save our universes, and in doing so, we neglected our own Spider-Family."

She takes a deep breath, her demeanor changing to one of determination. "Now, no more moping. Miles and I will hunt down Pav and Margot to sort out the chaos at HQ. Peter, you should visit Sunny and Gabriel and take Mayday along. Hobie, team up with Jess to locate Miguel. Make sure he's alright and bring him back."

Miles cuts in, skepticism evident. "Bring him back? Isn't he the very reason we're in this mess?"

Gwen sighs, trying to choose her words carefully. "Miguel's a … complicated man. He made choices based on what he believed was best. His actions, while perplexing, stem from good intensions. But he's hurting too, Miles. I've seen it. He’s heartbroken."

Miles scoffs, "A heart;for real? That dude? All I've seen is a cold exterior, mad demands, and an excessive pride."

A glance around the room reveals faces of understanding and sympathy towards Gwen’s perspective. Miles' frustration only grows. "Like seriously? All of you? His heart is straight-up frozen and his ego’s bigger than, like, everything! How y’all even thinking about letting him near your best friend."

"Miles," Peter interjects, his tone both assertive and compassionate, "you might not see the full picture here."

Miles, fire in his eyes, retorts, "It's all of you who are blind. I don’t get what charm he has over you, but that man is dangerous. Ain’t no way I stand by and watch him come near her or the baby again, or any of us for that matter. Y’all better wake up and join me.” Without another word, Miles activates his portal, leaving in a flash.

Gwen and Hobie scramble, attempting to follow or stop him. But Peter, with a resigned sigh, motions them to pause. "Give him time. He'll come around. For now, our priority is locating Sunny and Miguel."

Gwen, though worried, gives a nod. "You're right. We've got pressing matters. Sunny is in a vulnerable state, and we need to find Miguel."

Hobie, after a moment of contemplation, says, "Miles not wrong, though. We need to tread carefully around Miguel. Maybe he’s injured ‘imself, like that Icario bloke who got too close to the sun. Miguel might’ve burned his feathers on our Sunny.”

“Icarus. You mean Icarus.” Gwen corrects him once again with an exaggerated eye roll.

Peter agrees, "Yea, Miguel's actions have consequences, but remember, every story has two sides."

"No, sweetheart, it's MA-MA. Say Ma... Not Da, MA-MA.”

“DADA!”

“Alright, if you won't say it, no toy for you. Come on, my love. Say MA-MA.” Blackmailing a one-and-a-half-year-old might not be your proudest parenting moment, but hearing him chant "dada" incessantly has been grating, particularly when said "dada" is a headstrong egomaniac with a hero complex and an overwhelming urge to save every universe but who seems to have missed saving the one thing that mattered most to both of you.

Sure, he's incredibly attractive and, yes, maybe he looked really hot while being on his knees — but those details are neither here nor there. A soft whisper in the back of your mind suggests that, in the end, he did rescue your boy. But that comforting thought is drowned out by the even louder, more cynical voice reminding you he's the reason the danger existed in the first place.

“Dada?” Gabriel pipes up, his big eyes hopeful.

“No, love, I’m still your MA-MA.” With a resigned sigh, you hand the toy over to the gleeful toddler, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. You then rise, intent on tackling some household chores. Switching on the TV, you tune into the news, curious about the latest happenings in Nea Yorkey.

Since hanging up your mantle as Spider Sun you've tried to distance yourself from the perils of heroism. Given all the challenges you've faced and the traumas you've endured, who could point a finger at you for wanting to step away? Your primary concern now is the tiny human being who looks up at you with eyes full of wonder and innocence.

Yet, a piece of your heart still aches for your city. You've always been someone who believes that one shouldn't stand by in the face of injustice. After all : 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' But now, you're not just a hero, you're a mother too. Balancing those two sides is proving to be quite the challenge and extremely frustrating.

Curiously enough, the city's crime rate isn't surging, even in the absence of a superhero. It's almost as if there's still a vigilantly safeguarding Nea Yorkey in Sun-Spiders absence. But that can't be possible, can it? Wouldn't your spider senses have alerted you if that were the case?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further into the depths of concern, the persistent ringing of the doorbell snapped you back to reality. One glance at the door and an all-too-familiar voice later, you already know who's there.

“Would it kill you to answer sooner? I think I've lost count of how many times I rang. And for the love of all things good, it’s freezing out here!” Melissa, still in her over-dramatic fashion, breezes in, shedding flakes of snow from her vibrant winter boots. “And by the way, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Now, where's my favorite little munchkin?”

Melissa, once Gabriel's 19- year old former babysitter, stepped inside, shaking the snow off her boots onto your doorstep. After the harrowing incident involving the Spiders and your son, she was promptly relieved of her babysitting duties. That was an event you've tried to scrub from your memory, a dark stain you wish you could just wash away. But in the aftermath, you found an unexpected friend in Melissa. She turned out to be a wonderful listener and possessed an uncanny ability to keep Gabriel entertained. He had grown quite fond of her in the short time she cared for him.

While you had resolved never to leave your son unattended again, it was comforting to have Melissa's company.

She’d become someone you could confide in, someone who could effortlessly make Gabriel giggle, and most importantly, someone who filled the echoing silence of your home with warmth and chatter. She is your "guy in the chair." Well, more like "girl in the kitchen chair," but the sentiment still stands.

Truth be told, after distancing yourself from the Spider society, a deep-seated loneliness had settled in. While the world continued to move around you, there was a stillness in your heart. The absence of your closest friends, the void left by Miguel - it all felt like a puzzle with a missing piece.

“Nopedidope, I am not Dada, I am ME-LI-SSA.” she says with a playful tone, then turns sharply towards you. The damp red strands of her hair, wet from the snow, swing gracefully with her movement. "What's with him and 'Dada' all the time?"

You shift uncomfortably, hoping to avoid delving into that topic. "Kids and their phases," you mumble, trying to sound nonchalant.

Melissa studies your face, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You're looking a little pale there, Sunny. You know what you might be missing?" She raises an eyebrow teasingly. "A bit of Vitamin D?" Her voice drips with insinuation.

In a mock attempt to shield Gabriel, you place a hand over his ears, which only spurs Melissa into laughter. "Come on, he's too young to understand. When was the last time you had a little fun?A month? Or Two?"

You shake your head, not meeting her gaze. Since Miguel, there hasn't been anyone else. Between the birth of Gabriel and the whirlwind that is motherhood, the idea of dating or loving someone else doesn't even cross your mind. No matter the hurt and heartbreak Miguel has caused, the truth is clear: your heart still belongs to him. It always has.

The mere thought of another person comparing to him feels almost blasphemous.

"Sunny!" Melissa's voice draws you out of your trance. "Don't tell me you've had a dry spell since.. well, since well, Gabriel was conceived. No fucking way. Seriously?"

"Let it go, Mel," you interject gently, because while the weight of loneliness presses on you, and the desire for intimate connection tugs at your heartstrings, a longing for human touch, to be seen as more than just 'mom', there's also an undeniable self-consciousness that wraps itself around you. The aftermath of pregnancy has reshaped your body, and though each stretch mark narrates the beautiful journey of your son's creation, they also evoke self-doubt.

Memories of Miguel's adoration flood back. He had a gift for making you feel cherished during your intimate moments. He would take his time, appreciating every inch of you, always emphasizing how much he desired you. The warmth of his fingers, the gentle press of his lips tracing your curves, and the whispered assurances of how much he wanted you. The way his tongue tenderly caressing the swell of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin and your - Snap the fuck out of it, Sunny!

But the chill of an empty bed the next morning led to those persistent doubts which still plague you today. We’re you not beautiful enough for him to stay? Were you not interesting enough to make him want to hold you when dawn broke?

For someone who always prided herself on not tethering her self-worth to any man, let alone someone as self-absorbed as Miguel, these feelings of desire and yearning were unsettling. A desire for him to truly see you, to understand and love the depth of who you truly are, continued to consume you.

Love? You catch yourself. Where does that come from? Shaking your head, you mentally scold yourself. He's proven himself less than worthy. It's time to regain control and shut your damn heart out.

"I'm taking this little one out to build a snowman, and I'm setting you up on a date. You don't get to say no," Mel declares.

You raise an eyebrow, replying, "Thanks, but no thanks. If Gabriel's going out, I'm coming with. And I'm not looking for any man right now."

Mel rolls her eyes playfully. "Take a breather, Sunny. We're just going to be right outside. You can watch us through the window. Besides, a little rest might give you the energy for the spontaneous date I might arrange for you tonight."

"You're out of your mind," you retort.

She offers a sincere look. "I promise he's in safe hands, and you can keep an eye on us the entire time. But seriously, you look drained. When's the last time you had a good night's rest?"

You sigh, admitting, "I haven't slept well in weeks." It's the truth. Every time you close your eyes, memories of the HQ come flooding back.

Mel, sensing your hesitation, adds, "I'll protect him as if he were my own. You know that, right?"

Taking a deep breath, you let her go, breaking your cardinal rule of never letting Gabriel out of your sight. You just hope it's a decision you won't regret.

"Enjoying that snow, little guy?" Mel teases as Gabriel eagerly stuffs his mouth with a handful of the white fluff. "Careful, you might get a brain freeze." Gabriel giggles, some snow dribbling from his mouth, while Mel concentrates on assembling a little snowman just outside your apartment.

"I'm not sure toddlers should be eating snow like that," a deep voice comments, causing Mel to fumble and drop the snowball meant for the snowman's head. She looks up, scanning for the source of the voice.

A striking man stands there, tall and imposing, with a dark blue winter coat that hints at the powerful build beneath. Slicked-back dark hair contrasts with the most captivating shade of red eyes Mel has ever witnessed. "And you'd be the expert on toddlers?" she inquires with a playful smile.

"No, but I am a father of two," he replies with a hint of sternness, his gaze shifting to Gabriel.

To Mel's astonishment, Gabriel's eyes light up at the sight of the man. The toddler abandons his snowy treat and dashes towards him. Caught off guard, the stranger momentarily stiffens.

Quickly, Mel scoops up Gabriel. "I apologize. He doesn't usually act this way. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

The man offers a curt nod. "It's fine. Just... keep the snow-eating to a minimum." As he begins to walk away, a heartfelt cry of "DADA!" from Gabriel stops him in his tracks.

"Apologies again. He's taken quite a liking to that word recently," Mel says as she notices the man returning, drawn by Gabriel's continuous 'dada' chants.

"Would you mind if I help with the snowman?" the stranger asks, catching Mel off guard. Why would a stranger want to make a snowman with a woman and a child unless he has other intentions? Maybe he's interested in her? Gathering her confidence and a dash of flirtatious playfulness, she replies, "Quite the knight in shining armor you are, offering to help. And here I thought chivalry was extinct."

"Definitely not a knight." Without another word, he starts forming a small snowball, handing it to an elated Gabriel. The child's joy doesn't waver as the stranger settles beside him.

"Then who might you be, if not our knight in snowy armor?"

Mel inquires, with a teasing undertone, trying to uncover a bit more about the handsome stranger who'd seamlessly inserted himself into their snowy afternoon.

The stranger's dark crimson eyes briefly flit to Gabriel before returning to Mel, an unreadable emotion crossing his features.

"Not important."

Mel nods, storing away the information.Well, the lack of information. “Well okay mysterious. I like that. So let's get this snowman built, shall we?"

The trio gets to work. Mel gathers snow, crafting the middle part, while the man starts on the head. The handsome stranger's hands are deft, moving with a surprising grace that contrasts with his brooding exterior. Gabriel seems inexplicably drawn to him.

At first, the toddler pats at the snow with his little mittened hands, but every so often, his bright eyes lift to watch the stranger. Whenever he moves to fetch more snow or adjust the snowman's form, Gabriel eagerly toddles after him, mimicking his every motion with endearing clumsiness.

There's a curiosity in Gabriel's eyes. He reaches out multiple times, trying to touch the mans face or grasp his hand, seeking a connection. To Mel, it seems as though the baby is yearning for the recognition of the stranger and he feels an inexplicable bond with, though she can't quite put a finger on.

The handsome stranger, for his part, can't seem to help himself. He bends down often to adjust Gabriel's scarf or hat, taking every opportunity to interact with the child and help him in a very protective manner, Mel notices.

He smiles softly when Gabriel's tiny hands try to shape the snow, occasionally guiding them with his own much larger ones, demonstrating how to pack the snow just right. At one point, when the snowman's body is nearly complete, Gabriel gives an excited laugh, dropping down to sit in the snow.

The stranger follows suit, sitting beside him. The two of them start creating a tiny snowman just for Gabriel, the man showing him how to roll the snow and place the pieces together.

As they craft the mini snow figure, Gabriel, with his tiny voice, attempts to communicate with his limited vocabulary, pointing at the snow and then at the stranger, as if asking for validation for his creation. “Dada!Dada!” And every time, he gives a nod or a soft chuckle, providing the affirmation the little one seeks. “Yes, you did that buddy! Great job, mijo.”

When Gabriel eventually throws himself into the snow to make a snow angel, the man can't help but laugh genuinely, a sound that seems foreign to his usual stoic behavior. And in his excitement, Gabriel opens his mouth wide in a beaming smile, revealing two tiny fangs. Instantly, the mans eyes glint, a myriad of emotions reflected in them.

The affection and emotion emanating from him is almost touchable. The silent exchanges, the shared smiles, and the comfortable interaction between them, even in the absence of many words, speaks volumes.

Your eyes flare comically with disbelief. "You let a stranger do what?"

Mel, in a bid to downplay the situation, waves her hand dismissively. "Relax. We just built a snowman."

"With my son! Mel, are you out of your mind? No it’s my fault trusting you with my son again! What was his name?"

"He... didn't say."

Your voice rises, "What did he say at all?"

"He's not dangerous, Sunny. He mentioned he's a father, and he's scouting for a new apartment. Asked if there were any vacant ones nearby." Mel pauses, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "And Sunny, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Impossible for someone that handsome to be dangerous. I mean, the man looked like he was carved by the gods with a face even angels would envy.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Enough with you sappy, dreamy nonsense. A vacant apartment? And you don’t find that at all suspicious? So you let a total stranger play with my son without knowing a single thing about him... just because you wanted to sleep with him?"

Mel gulps. "You might've done the same, given the situation. Besides, nothing happened. Why are you overreacting?"

Your voice sharpens. "Overreacting? The fact that you're still standing here and not on the other side of my door means I'm underreacting."

Mel steps back, hands up, "Whoa, calm down, mama bear. Look, I'm sorry. But... I've got something to make it up to you. I messaged Marc, that guy from the café, and guess what? He's super excited to go on a date with you! He'll be here in about..." Mel theatrically checks her wrist, even though she's not wearing a watch, "...twenty minutes."

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "And he's okay with me bringing my son on the date? After your stunt, there's no way I'm leaving Gabriel with you. Why not set me up with that mystery Adonis you just met instead?"

Mel smirks, "Firstly, ouch. Secondly, don't let your son cockblock you. The plan is: dinner, a stop at his apartment for some dessert, and then you come back here – hopefully a more relaxed and sunny version of yourself, Sunny. Thirdly, Marc is amazing, and Mr. Greek God is off-limits. He's mine."

"No, I’m not going."

Mel pleads, "Come on! Marc was so eager to meet you. He's on his way, so maybe run a brush through your hair? Oh, and speaking of him…" Mel's face falls as she checks her phone, "He just texted me."

She reads aloud, "‘Hey Mel, I don’t know the kind of guys Sunny's been with, but I'm not risking my neck for a date. Sorry, but that dude in front of her house was scary and very serious about his threats.’ WAIT WHAT? Who’s in front of your apartment?”

You shrug and swing the door open to check on what Marc’s mysterious message could mean, revealing Peter B, his fist paused mid-air, ready for a knock. "Hey Sun. Did your spidey-sense catch me?"

It hadn’t. Why hadn't it? Have your once reliable senses dulled with time? Before you can respond, Mel jumps in with her own theory. "Did you chase off her date?"

Peter's brow furrows with confusion. "You had a date, Sunny? Was it the guy sprinting away with a bouquet, looking like he’s seen a monster?" He gestures over his shoulder, trying to pinpoint the fleeing figure.

Mel narrows her eyes at Peter, suspicion clear in her voice. "That was her date, yes. He seemed spooked. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

Peter B throws his hands up defensively. "Hey, deeply mistrusting stranger, I've been encouraging Sunny to get out there for years. " You're immediately reminded of the time he'd tried to set you up with Ben Reilly. “Yea, you don’t look scary enough to spook someone. No offense.”

Sighing, you interject, "Maybe he realized dating a single mom with a toddler wasn’t what he wanted. Either way, I just want a quiet evening to relax and catch up on my favorite show. So thank you both for your unexpected, uninvited surprise visit today but I am tired."

Both Peter and Mel exchange shocked glances. "Sun, I came by to check on you because of... you know, what happened," Peter starts hesitantly.

You nod, taking a deep breath to keep

your emotions in check. "I'm aware, Peter. And I appreciate it. But right now, I'm doing okay. Actually, better than okay. So, I really don’t need help. Please, just give me some space. Both of you."

Mel steps forward, concern evident in her voice. "We're only trying to help here, Sunny. Please, don't shut us out."

"Look," you reply, feeling drained, "there's nothing you can do to help me anymore.You did enough today. Just let me be. My top priority right now is Gabriel. And it's his bedtime."

Peter moves closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, please reach out."

You manage a wry smile. "Not sure my phone plan covers inter-dimensional calls, Peter."

After the gentle squeeze, Peter departs, Mel following close behind. As the door softly clicks shut, the weight of loneliness and grief descends upon you after seeing Peter, a part of your past, again. The walls of the apartment seem to close in, amplifying the echoing silence. It all feels suffocating. An emptiness weighs on your heart, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to escape its grasp. The reminders of all you've lost and nearly lost play on a loop in your mind.

So there you stand, in the quiet of your bedroom, leaning against the windowsill, breathing in the chilled nightair, while the world and your little baby boy are fast asleep. Emotions threaten to consume you, feelings you can no longer lock away, fearing they'll devour you from the inside. And in this moment, you speak out, though there's no one there to hear. No one to hold you close, no one to offer comfort for your broken soul. "Are you happy now? Did you manage to save the universe? Fix up every black hole? Then why did you leave one black whole in my heart? Why didn't you fix that,huh? Why am I not worthy of being saved by you?

You might fool the people around you, they see you as this scary untouchable figure, shielded by layers. But not me. I see through it all. Beneath that facade, you're just as shattered. I tried to piece you together, but where did that lead me? Broken, just like everything else you touch. And I won't let you near him. I won’t let you break him, you hear me? No, of course not.How could you hear me. You're universes away from me. Why? Are you afraid to get cut by the shards of the broken heart that you left?

I hate you Miguel O’ Hara. I hate you for breaking me. You left behind fragments only you can touch, and I hate you for it. For shattering me and then leaving me alone. I hate you.”

You wiped away the tears that escaped your eyes and closed the window, oblivious to the subtle shadowy silhouette that shifted just beyond the windowpane; "I'll mend your fractured rays, mi sol, so you shine whole again.“

A whisper, lost within the night shadows, never reaching your ears.

The gleaming city spread out beneath, its nighttime heartbeat pulsating with a soft electric energy. High atop one of its buildings, Miguel stands, casting a shadow on the walls of the room where his son sleeps peacefully. The warm lights from the streets below give off a soft glow, just enough for him to see Gabriel’s tiny chest rising and falling.

"So, you're staying here now? Just watching over Universe 586?" A familiar voice breaks the silence, and Miguel looks up to see Jessica Drew, her red and white suit glinting under the streetlights. "I never thought I'd witness the great O'Hara, savior of the universes, now guarding just two souls."

Miguel's jaw tightens. "Go away, Jess."

She lands beside him gracefully, her tone challenging. "Are you stalking your own child? Or seeking redemption from Sunny?"

"You don't get it, Jessica."

"On the contrary," she shoots back, her eyes intense, "I understand more than anyone else. I saw how you felt about her all those years ago. And I see it now. You were afraid, weren’t you?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Miguel replies, defiance lacing his tone. "But I am not good enough for her light."

Jessica exhales, her voice softening. "And who made you the judge of that? Because according to Sunny’s emotional outburst, you're more than deserving." He clenches his fists, the weight of regret pulling at him. "I had my shot at happiness with Gabriella, and I lost it. People like me, Jess, we don't get second chances."

She points to the window, to the serene image of Gabriel. "That's your second chance, Miguel. Right there."

His eyes well up, the gravity of his mistakes reflecting in his eyes. "I almost killed him. How can I even begin to forgive myself for that?"

"But you didn't," she whispers, her voice filled with conviction. "And you wouldnt have hurt him or else you would have done it immediately. I saw you, Mig.”

A third voice joined them, and Peter B. swings over, landing with ease beside the two. "She's right, Miguel. I watched you with him, the tenderness, the love. It was there, even before you knew who he was to you."

Miguel shakes his head, shutting both of them out. His gaze is hard, still fixated on Gabriel. "I can't go back. They're better off without me. Besides, you heard her. She hates me."

Peter stepsforward, his gaze intense. "That's utter bullshit. I know Sunny. She’s strong, fierce, and forgiving. We heard her loud and clear and this woman loves you more than anything. Don't let fear rob you of your family."

Peters words hang in the air, and just as Miguel is about to reply, a shrill,ear-piercing cry cuts through the silence. His spider-sense goes haywire, a ripple of unease running down his spine. Without a second's hesitation, he dashes toward the source of the sound, leaving Jessica and Peter behind.

Inside, Miguel finds Gabriel crying, tears streaking his small face. Instinctively, Miguel scoops him up, the little boy immediately nestling into the familiar crook of his father's neck and calms down. “Hey, my little spider. Daddy ‘s here, don’t cry. What got you so scared?” he coos, spotting Gabriel's favorite toy on the floor. Miguel retrieved Gabriel's favorite toy from the floor, a routine he'd secretly adopted every night when, after falling asleep, the little one inevitably dropped it. With practiced ease, he nestled it back into the baby's grasp.

But before he can fully relax, Miguel's spider-sense jolts him again. Looking up, he sees a familiar, dark-clad figure hovering, hands sparking ominously.

“Drop the child, Miguel.”

a/n: Hey guys, part 4 is finally here! Thanks for your patience and all the love you've shown me. While I initially thought Part 4 would be the conclusion, I've decided to extend Miguel's character and redemption arc, so we'll wrap up with Part 5. I'm already deep into writing it, so you won't have to wait as long. I truly appreciate all your feedback and support. You've all been wonderful. Remember to stay safe, stay hydrated, and always prioritize your mental well-being. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter! 🤍

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@vanillacoffeeology @calicoootalks @shine101 @mental-illness-is-my-friend @myhomethesea @janedah0e @st4rrlighttt @imnotyourbcbe @1lyyff @marsbars09 @migueloharaapologist2

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love-belle · 10 months

Text

saw ur mom at the grocery store !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them hanging out with each other's families.

for when you find out that your second family is actually your ex's family. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

sequel - well, i'm still in love with you ·˚ ༘

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!!! a short one but i hope u like it <3 thank u sm for reading i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lorenzotl, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 797,427 others

yourusername saw ur mom at the grocery store i always knew she really did like me more

7,825 comments

username THE CAPTION

username i just gasped omg

username HELPHSHSKAKSJSKAK

username MAMA LECLERC AND Y/N

lorenzotl please return my mother

-> yourusername shush we're going shopping

username THE SHADEEEEE

username i know charles is shaking rn

-> username bro regrets introducing them 💀💀💀

username love that they're still so close like ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

carla.brocker stay right where you are, i'm on my way

-> yourusername already ordered a frappe for u <3

username I NEED CHARLES TO REACT TO THIS RN LIKE

username bro hurt her so bad she started rhyming

-> yourusername PLEASE

username why r u so pretty

username idk what happened just the fact that charles should be on his knees crying screaming throwing up for her to take him back

username the way pascale is always so "😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘☺️☺️☺️☺️" with her :///

arthur_leclerc pineapple is mad. i repeat pineapple is mad

-> yourusername hoes mad ur honour

-> username NOT CHARLES BEING PINEAPPLE

username THIS IS SO WHOLESOME (if we ignore the caption)

username should've known it was only a matter of time before y/n said something 💀💀💀💀💀

username queens

-> username icons

-> username girlbosses

username charles is fuming rn i Know it

lilymhe missing u ml

-> yourusername cannot wait to see u bb <3

username no bc why did i think for even a second that they ended on good terms.

username my two absolute girlbosses

charlotte2304 wowwwwwwww. guess my invitation got lost in mail huh?

-> yourusername we're literally going to dinner tonight??????

-> charlotte2304 okay and???????

-> yourusername join us!!!!! we can have a girls' day!!!!! carla is on her way too!!!!!! - pascale

-> charlotte2304 i'm halfway through the door love you!!!

username no bc all jokes aside i wonder how y/n and charles must be feeling with yk, both of them being close to each other's families and friends like

-> username no bc imagine having to stay in the same friend circle after u break up like that's so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username the caption punched me in the gut js saying

username she's the favourite child 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 868,525 others

charles_leclerc vacation with ex in-laws ❤️

8,627 comments

username NAH NO WAY

username OH MY GOD

username PLEASE

username charles being a petty bitch we love to see it

username NOT HIM GOING ON A WHOLE ASS VACATION WITH HIS EX'S FAMILY

arthur_leclerc that's where you had to go "so so so urgently"

-> charles_leclerc yeah !!!

username bro went on a vacation with her family bc she went grocery shopping with his mom 💀💀💀💀💀💀

username no bc he got the grandparents too

-> username HE GOT THE DOG

username y/n bout to move in his childhood home i can feel it

-> username they're both so stubborn and petty so i wouldn't be surprised at all 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username him being close with her family after they split hits me in the heart idek why

lorenzotl maman says you should've told her, she wanted to see them too

-> charles_leclerc i invited them to dinner next week, tell her to not worry

username THIS IS SO

username no bc she went GROCERY SHOPPING with his mom and this mf went on a VACATION

username what'd they even talk about 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> username "your daughter is giving me grey hair" "you're not the only one, son"

*liked by charles_leclerc*

-> username PLEASE OMG

username i would do anything to be on this vacation

username kinda need y/n and charles to interact again

username IT'S ONLY 7AM WHAT THE FUCK

landonorris tell (your mom's name) i miss her cooking and her favourite son says hi

-> charles_leclerc she says she's going to the next race so she'll make something for you and no. i'm her favourite son

-> carlossainz55 pretty sure it's me

-> pierregasly no way

-> lewishamilton it's me actually

-> maxverstappen1 shut up it's me

-> danielricciardo it's me lmfao

-> yourmomsusername it's actually mick and roscoe

-> mickschumacher YES

-> username the way everyone is close to y/n's family :///

username y/n's next post "so i moved into my ex's childhood home lol"

-> username the way idk what to expect from her 💀

username alrightttt all jokes aside please get back together with mom ❤️

username no bc if they don't work out then there's no hope for me 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst

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caseys-breanna · 1 month

Text

Ok I just finished rewatching The Rundown Job and so far I have -

The most ridiculously peacocking display of competence porn. What do you mean "'sup Eliot." What do you mean "who needs luck". Where is your damn shame? Where is hundred more episodes of just like this? 10/10 worth every watch.

'I've got a hacker *enter bf*, and a thief *enter gf*'

Only Parker noticing 'too many cops'. It's such a cool detail throughout the show how observant she is just offhandedly, unlike Eliot who observes actively.

Parker pretending to promptly fall asleep as soon as they're in the truck, only to have the handcuffs off in seconds.

"What do they say about me? I hope they gave me a cool nickname." I'll bet all the kudos on my most popular fic that he hacks into his own pentagon file regularly to make up his own nickname.

"Hell your girlfriend's already out of the cuffs" *Parker smiling and sliding them off* AND IT'S DIRECTED NOT TO HARDISON, HER EXPLICITLY STATED BOYFRIEND, BUT AT ELIOT, THEIR BOYFRIEND.

Putting Hardison in those glasses. Those damn glasses. I need a glass of water jfc it's hot in here

'For better or worse, we change together'. Aaaaaand that's on wedding vows.

"I'll drive." "Hold on." "Exactly." "No, I mean hold on. (Our gf is a former gateway car driver)". "Oh. Oh you mean. Yeah."

The hand on the wrist and eye contact and saying 'I'm not afraid. I got the best thief and the smartest guy I know chasing this guy'

HAND ON THE BACK OF THE NECK AND PULLING CLOSER 'HEY LISTEN TO ME YOU'RE THE SMARTEST GUY I'VE EVER KNOWN HARDISON I NEED THAT BRAIN TO GET ME TO HIM. GET ME TO HIM'. Screaming crying frothing at the mouth et cetera et cetera

Figuring out the job TOGETHER

This is Hardison. Hardison likes his personal space. These are Parker and Eliot. Parker and Eliot also like Hardison's personal space.

The eyes on each other's lips during unlocking doors and saying thank you

'Kiss for luck?' the sequel: love boogaloo

HACKING THE MF CAR HORN WITH AN SOS THROUGH A MOBILE PHONE

"BOOM MY BOY THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!" first of all that's his boy so jot that down

Also side note this episode shows the fascinating way Hardison uses his brain and I wish we saw more of it because it's fascinating how he derives what he does from the few bits of data he gathers

"He's on the train!" "Yeah well so am I." "When you pick him out of the crowd-" "No. I'm ON the train! 🙄 Never mind..."

Two good ole boys behind the wheel 🎶 chasing the target and their gf in a million dollar car 🎵 two good ole boys-

*Hanging by her fingertips from a running train roof almost mashed into pulp by signage" WOOOOOO HOOOOO

The way Parker picks him out, not by using thief sense, but mastermind sense that he's immune -> got vaccinated -> pain in the arm. Brilliant way to pick someone out from a crowd while not raising panic

Keeping him talking till she takes the briefcase that he HANDCUFFED to himself right under his nose. How? Well, she's Parker.

"I kept one diamond. Sorry." I love her

Finally "kiss for luck" the trilogy comes to an end

*casually endangers self* "Fire is the only thing that kills it right?"

"Don't do that to me, I can't lose you. Do you understand? I can't lose you. Don't scare me like that. I can't-"

Eliot Spencer: *Barks 'Alright!' at the guy touching him to literally patch up his bullet wound.* Also Eliot Spencer: *ditches crutches so he can lean on his girlfriend and boyfriend*

"I work with them now." Would you like to stay for dinner? "Honor among thieves? Something like that." WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER??!!!

"I don't do hospital." "I told you, he takes getting shot very lightly." Uh huh, you know what I smell? LOVE. In the air! Might be some blood from those bullet wounds too ig.

What a show.

#leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker leverage #jace.txt #leverage ot3 #eliot x parker x hardison #hitter hacker thief #'we change together'#the rundown job

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kuiinncedes · 2 years

Text

the candymakersssss 😭

#thank u wendy mass for my like middle school reading and also this amazing book still now asjdhgklabfgjkdhf #lowkey thought i might cry at one point 😂🤪😭 BRUH i love this book sm like there's nostalgia kinda i read this book so many times #but also i love these characters and their friendship sm i want more 🥺 i'll probably reread the sequel too #which i don't remember anything of basically lmao but i do own it so i assume i read it XD #my brother said he kinda remembered it being weird and multiverse-y idk lol but idc i want more of them #(however i've been rly wanting to reread they boht die at the end lol so i might do that first)#(and let the candymakers sequel be like my pick me up after XD)#LOGAN SWEET BELOVED MY CHILD EVERYTHING GOOD IN THE WORLD DESERVES THE WHOLE UNIVERSE THIS BOY #i love him sm and it's funny considering his last name i guess lol but rly the only thing i want to say to describe him is just #sweet sweet boy. sweet wonderful lovely angel boy 💗#also the writing like i sorta remembered the end or at least that everyone was good at the end lol #but at the beginning of philip's pov like when he had the wrong idea tho i rly did want to hate him lmao #but i was like girl stop he's 12 he's a lil misguided #his dad's a bit of a dick lol #AND HE'S ALSO SO SWEET THE SECOND HE FINDS OUT THE TRUTH HE'S LIKE SO #great about it idk lol ajkhgldfhbg #miles and daisy also beloveds <333333 they're all so wonderful #the friendship oh my goddlkjakdfgnkadfhguqreighndfjkbvjkdffha #the end w logan and philip does he have one or two l's i could check the book right next to me but i won't apparently lol #the end w them seeing each other's candies in the clouds and just the whole lil group hangout thing at the end #and a lil before the end like miles realizing the truth abt daisy and his reaction is so sweet 😭#i'm probably running out of tags lmfao bye i could talk about this forever apparently a;skjdhgirbgqilerugbsjkfhaf the candymakerssss <33333 #jeanne talks

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krypticcafe · 1 year

Note

Can you do a part 2 of the platonic reader and the 141+Alejandro where reader gets kidnapped and comes back? I love your writing!

No One Can Hurt You

Sequel to As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x task force 141 + alejandro + rodolfo

warning(s): language, canon-typical violence, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, mild gore descriptions for a hot second, implied ghost zapping a guy's balls, reader is lowkey traumatized, comfort, no use of y/n, no beta read, possible ooc?

a/n: I did NOT expect to get such an overwhelmingly positive response on the first part?? I was worried that the writing felt bland, but you guys seemed to love it, so here's the highly demanded part two!

synopsis: the 141 and Los Vaqueros weren't going to stand for what happened to you. No one would.

alternative title— fuck around and find out

"We found the guys your sources claimed to be the men that were there, Captain. But they're refusing to say anything to us. Honestly, it looks like they're just another pair of lackeys." Gaz was speaking over comms with Price after locating a suspect with Roach. The two had found the pair in a dingy old building, a safehouse conveniently placed far from heavily populated civilian areas.

"Should we-"

He was cut off by a series of loud thuds and glass crashing, immediately grabbing his handgun and running into the room where Roach was keeping an eye on their suspects.

Roach had one of the men pinned to the ground, repeatedly decking him in the face whilst letting out frustrated yells and broken cries. Blood splattered across the floor and on his visor, but he could've cared less, it wasn't his anyways.

"Roach, get off of him, that's enough!" Gaz practically had to tear his teammate away from the man with how Roach flailed, grunting and clawing at Gaz's arms to let him go. "Roach, we can't do anything if you bloody kill them!"

Pushing off Gaz, Roach seethed with pained eyes, nearly tearing up out of sheer frustration. "He's hiding something, I know he is! That sadistic fuck started bragging about what they did to the sergeant and- and the smug shit look he had! These are the guys, but they're not telling us everything!"

He knew it was a terrible excuse, but his own gut feelings about reading people's expressions had never proved him wrong before, not when he had an eye for reading people through their body language. Gaz hesitated. He understood why Roach lashed out and didn't blame him for losing his temper, hell, he rarely did, and Gaz would've done the same in all honesty. You meant as much to him as you did to Roach. They were the first friends you made when joining the 141, the ones who helped acclimate you to the team, and the ones who trained under Price alongside you like you were their sibling. But it didn't help that they nearly broke protocol, which would've compromised the mission and made your sacrifice and suffering for nothing.

Looking down at the unconscious yet still-breathing man, Gaz then noticed how the blood pooled around him. It seemed to stop spreading at some point in the floorboards and spilled into an unusually large crack in the wood that looked suspiciously intentional.

"Roach, take the other one and call for exfil but don't tell them to leave just yet." Once his partner left, Gaz kneeled down to the floor and knocked on the wood. It was hollow.

Seems they would definitely need them alive now more than ever.

"I don't know who supplies us, I just work for them! Just ask-" The man let out a cry as Soap held his shoulder, digging his fingers into it and balling his other hand into a fist before landing a solid punch into his gut. A moment passed he choked on air, the wind knocked from him, his mouth painfully dry except for the tears that dripped from his eyes.

"Tell us who you work for or things are about to get real nasty for you like they did for your friend."

"You're in it if you think I'm gonna say shit! The 141 is just a freak show, ain't it? Bunch of you cowards hiding behind stupid callsigns, what the fuck kind of name is—" That earned him another beating. He wailed, writhing in pain against the tight restraints, but ultimately wasting his energy. He only stopped when he heard screams and crackles of what was undoubtedly electricity coming from behind one of the walls of the room.

"So you do know," Soap growled, beating him once more and backing up when he retched from pain. Blood dripped from Soap's knuckles, to which he scowled in disgust and irritation, his accent growing thick, "No, you just had to make things a fuckin' mess, dinnae you?"

Normally, it was Ghost who took care of interrogations, at least the more painful parts of it. But Soap needed to let out his anger in a useful way, he needed to hear the sickening crunch of ribs so that he could remind himself of what you went through and erase any sliver of doubt or sympathy in his mind for the enemy. Every splatter of blood that'd spill when he'd throw a fist across the guy's face was just another testament to how much he despised what happened and how desperately he needed to let it all out.

The man, in his bleary-eyed haze, made out another figure that entered the room. It was Ghost, with a box of electrical clamps in hand. "What is he doing here?"

Soap and Ghost made a silent exchange of words, nodding to one another in confirmation and speaking purely through eye contact. It only created more fear when Soap left the room and the man was all alone with the lieutenant.

"Hey hey hey where are you going you can't leave me with him! I did what I had to do, it's not my fault your friend was collateral—" The man choked on his words when Ghost pulled out two clamps and tested them, both emitting a spark and loud crackles that echoed off the walls. "—fuck! Oh god, no no no—what the fuck are you gonna use that for?!"

The lieutenant was a different situation. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to dig his hands into the man's open wounds, curl his fingers until flesh separated from bone, make them feel just exactly how much they got 'under his skin'. He wanted to hear the satisfying pop! of bones and cartilage. He wanted them to writhe like worms on a scalding sidewalk, pathetic and left for dead. But that wasn't enough, they didn't deserve the time, the effort, nor did they deserve the pleasure of a quick death. No, he needed to make them suffer.

Ghost brought one clamp up to the man's crotch with one hand and held a rusty knife with the other, lowering himself to look directly at his target. It was at that moment the man came to the realization that he wasn't captured, no, he fucked around, pulling off the stubborn shit act until they'd inevitably grow bored of him and move on, maybe put him out of his misery if he was lucky enough. But there was no moving on, there was no luck in this ring of hell. No, not with what had already been done and what couldn't be taken back even if he begged. The 141 was revered for their soldiers and their work, but it was a myth all at the same time. They were said to be efficient and ruthless, better to surrender to than to suffer at the hands of. Since they were off the books, it was a mystery as to what lengths they would go to, just how far they would push the limits.

He had fucked around, and now he'd find out.

They locked eyes, one pair filled with fear, the other devoid of any emotion. There wasn't the sympathy the man prayed for, nor the anger or violence of Soap, not even a hint of mercy or hatred. It was so empty of feeling that it almost felt dismissive, as if the man wasn't a human held hostage but an object, a book to be torn open for answers, then tossed aside. If Soap had been his judge and jury, then Ghost would surely be his executioner. He felt small, insignificant, and hopeless under the gaze as the man he truly believed was death incarnate responded to his question.

"Last. Chance."

One by one, Price and his crew had cleared the facility, evacuating workers and eliminating guards and cartel. After bringing their "guest informants" to the brink of delirium, wrenching them like wet towels to get every drop of info. Along with the intel Gaz gathered from a hidden basement where hard drives of transactions were being kept, they found the main supplier and other bases. If they took down the heart of the operation, it would cause a domino effect, shutting things down to a point where the Los Vaqueros would be able to handle them on their own. With every bullet shot, they were closer to their goal and closer to making up for what they considered a personal failure to protect one of their own and many more.

Maybe it was crazy that their primary motivation beyond recovering the drugs was to seek justice for a single soldier. But it was to prove a point. To prove that they weren't just a team of highly skilled and trained soldiers, to prove that they were a force to be reckoned with, and to prove that you were no less valuable of a member than the others, all of whom would lay their lives on the line for one another. After all,

The 141 was not to be messed with.

Making his way through the rooms and getting closer to the center of it all, Price was interrupted when a door to his side busted open from a man toppling back into it, falling to the ground. He tried to scramble back, a boot quickly stomping onto his chest. Alejandro towered before him, pressing a rifle to his head, growling in Spanish, "Where is your leader?"

The man responded, and without hesitation, the colonel gave him a quick and painless death for his obedience. Looking up, Alejandro nodded in acknowledgment at Price, "I'm not the only one that owes your sergeant, they protected my men, and I owed them a favor even before that."

That caused Price to chuckle, even despite their current circumstances. There was no denying how much of an unnecessarily reckless saint you could be with those you worked with. "I suppose you got a location from that poor bastard?"

"Yes. Have our teams regroup, it's going to be a long night for us all, my friend. But it's worth the trouble for Las Almas and the kid, no?"

"Yes, indeed." Price hummed, the two making their way out and on to finally settle the score.

You woke up blinded by a bright light, briefly contemplating if you were dead and if heaven was actually real all along. But after some time passed, your eyes adjusted to the all-too-familiar setting of the infirmary with its barren walls and sickly sanitized scent. With a groan, you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows until a hand gently pressed you back. Puzzled by the motion, you rubbed your eyes and found your captain looking back at you.

"Easy there, soldier." Price cautioned, and you kept your eyes on him as you laid back down. He had a small smile on his lips, but the way he looked at you signified that he was still concerned for your state, "You alright? Need the nurse or anything?"

"No," You shook your head, wincing at how hoarse your throat was. Price laughed softly and handed you a cup of water he had prepared at the side of your bed, and you started to wonder if he had always kept one there for you and if he even regularly changed it for you. You wouldn't put it past him to, the ol' sap.

Gulping the cool liquid down heartily, you took a few breaths before continuing, "How- how long was I out?"

"About a few days, no longer than a week." He shrugged, your eyes widening in response, "Cut yourself some slack. When you came back, you were bleeding out all over base and in hysterics. Doctor told us that if you got back any later, we would've lost you from the blood loss alone."

"Just the blood loss? Not the drugs? I would've figured the latter would be the end of me." You chuckled until you saw Price's expression, muttering a sheepish 'sorry, too soon?' and sipping your water cup, "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"Well, you did punch Garrick square in the chest, but he's been through worse. Wouldn't stop making puppy eyes at you the entire time after, I think you wounded his heart. Ghost had to restrain you afterward, and you were too weak to do any real damage at that point, just kept screaming your head off until you passed out."

"Shit," You cringed, your face burning hot with shame, "I'm sorry, Captain. I should've been more careful, I could've compromised the mission and-"

"Don't be. Sure, you made a bloody fool of yourself, but you saved your team in the process. And that's got to count for something, yeah?" He nudged you gently, "So don't beat yourself up, especially after you fought your way out of hell."

The sympathetic look he gave you held unspoken words, No one could've known. You couldn't have known. The urge to tear up right then and there was strong, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you already apparently had. Biting back the sting in your eyes, you only quietly nodded in response.

"Good. I'm proud of you, got that?" Price stood from his seat, giving your head a firm pat, "Rest up after they're done with you, alright? Can't have one of my finest on the sidelines for too long, now can I?"

"Honored to be one, Captain." You faltered for a moment, "Wait, 'they'?"

Price only gave you a sly shrug and left the room. You remained to wonder what he meant for approximately ten seconds until Gaz and Roach burst in, the latter immediately glued to your side. So this is who he meant by "they", why were you even surprised?

"Feeling alright there?" Gaz smiled, taking a seat at your other side.

"I should be asking you that, didn't you get all heartbroken after I punched you?"

"I shouldn't have asked," Gaz groaned, shaking his head despite his smile, "Cheeky as ever, huh? Can't even be sympathetic without you trying to make fun of me."

"Well, I for one was pissed!" Roach interjected, "Right after you got here, we got to work on finding the assholes who hurt you and made them eat shit for dinner. Man, I wish I could've been in the interrogation room with Ghost and Soap but Price said I'm only finding an excuse to beat them up more."

Gaz raised a brow, "You were finding an excuse to."

"Well yeah, but I was only gonna mess with them a little bit, not zap their balls like Ghost—"

"I'm sorry, what?" You coughed, stunned by all the information coming out of them and hardly able to keep up. "What happened when I was knocked out?"

"Price didn't tell you? Oh, well," The two began to give you a run-down of events, from how Roach nearly beat the living hell out of your torturers, to the hidden basement, Ghost and Soap's whole interrogation (with great detail via Roach intel), and how both Price and Alejandro held a whole operation and shut down the suppliers.

Gaz shrugged, "Of course, it was mostly to shut it down and for the sake of Las Almas-"

"-but I mean, we also had to defend your honor!" Roach huffed, passionately signing to emphasize his point, "At least I wanted to. Seriously, how fucked up is it that they drugged you? It wasn't even helpful, they're just sickos that-"

Before Roach could further rant, Gaz tugged at the back of his uniform collar and glanced at his watch. "C'mon Roach, we've been here for a good hour and Price has us on duty right now." Roach only whined at Gaz in response but he ignored it, giving you one last glance, "Get some rest and get well soon, mate. I can't babysit all on my own after all."

"Hey!"

You broke out in laughter, watching the two leave and waving them goodbye. While you wished they could've stayed longer, your heart still warmed at the thought of how they cared, waiting for you to wake up and immediately being at your side. It reminded you of how you stayed at their side when they got sick from a mission in the rain and you didn't, so you felt somewhat obligated to help them as the 'survivor'. Perhaps they felt the same way too, that as your friends, they felt obligated and willing to stay by your side in return.

Hours passed since Gaz and Roach had visited, morning turning to late afternoon. The only ones who did pass by were either other soldiers on base needing medical attention or the nurses themselves, who regularly checked up on you. It wasn't exactly the company you wanted, but it was better than agonizing silence and isolation, which you quickly found to be the worst of it all. Not the scars, not the stiff bandages, not even the sickly clean smell, but just when things were silent. When things were silent, your mind went back to the time you spent, the hours you waited in between questions and beatings with nothing but you in your own head fighting for your consciousness. The buzz of the fluorescent lights in the infirmary drilled a hole in your skull the same way that singular overhead light had, drowning out your thoughts in an uncanny way. The IV drip was no better, it kept you awake the same way the rhythm of your own blood dripping had. You hadn't even noticed the way your breathing suddenly turned ragged just like it did when—no, you had noticed, but you didn't want to.

It shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did, it was only a few hours, you've been through worse, others have been through worse.

But god, the silence.

"You doing okay there, uh-" A nurse walked in through the curtains, pulling up the clipboard at the end of your bed and reading your name, "I'm just going to administer some painkillers real quick, okay?"

Unconsciously, you nodded and watched in a slight daze as she pulled up a cart of medical supplies. Your hands balled into fists to stop the trembling you weren't even aware of but somehow knew you had to hide. It hadn't quite registered to you what was going on or what she had said, even as you watched her fill up the syringe and flick it. But the moment you felt the needle against your skin, you roughly grabbed her wrist, causing her to yelp and drop it.

Your hands began to tremble again, growing clammy. You became all too aware of how muffled the nurse's panicked words were but how sharp the ringing in your ears was, piercing your brain. Words wouldn't come out of your mouth, replaced with small, quick breaths while your eyes darted around to find something, anything to focus on with your blurred vision.

"At ease, sergeant." A heavily accented voice spoke, ripping you from your haze and you turned to find that familiar skull mask standing by the curtains.

"I... I'm sorry," You mumbled, letting go of the poor woman's wrist and hanging your head apologetically. Your breaths returned to normal, the lights were less bright, and the noise was gone for now.

"I think it's best if you ask the doctor to try other kinds of painkillers with our friend here, miss. They aren't too fond of needles, ain't that right?" Soap appeared behind Ghost, trying to keep things lighthearted with how tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate in. The nurse nervously nodded her head before walking away with the cart, understandably still shaken by what had happened.

"I'd ask if you're doin' okay, but it seems a bit obvious now, ain't it, Ghost?"

The other grunted in response, sitting down at one of the chairs by your side. "You'd think they'd know better with these kinds of things."

"Don't be mean now, they're just doing their jobs," The scotsman chuckled, turning back to you, "Now, aren't you quite the sight for sore eyes? Sorry we couldn't make it earlier, we got tied down with paperwork after the whole fiasco, you know about that yet?"

"Yeah, I didn't expect you guys to get the job done so fast."

"Aw, did you want us to leave you some left over? If I'd known, I would've told Ghost to go a little easier on the lads." Soap was the only one trying to make any conversation out of this visit and you already knew the reason for Ghost's silence. It was just like in the helicopter after you took the blow for him, though you were pretty sure a pun wouldn't be enough to break him from "brooding" like last time.

"Sure. Would've loved to get a few punches back on them," You teased back, "But thank you guys. Really. I know it wasn't the main purpose, but I really appreciate that you guys had my safety in mind. Never figured joining the 141 would come with vengeance perks, or am I just that special to you guys?"

"You little shite, you," Soap cackled, ruffling your hair.

"Looks like they beat us here, Rudy." Alejandro's voice chimed out of the blue, appearing soon after.

"Too bad, I was hoping we'd have them to ourselves," Rodolfo hummed, followed behind with a gift basket in hand, "At least we bought something, eh?"

"Oi! We would've brought something too, we just wanted to get here as soon as we got back." Soap pouted, "Tell 'em Ghost."

"Actually I was hoping to get a 'get well' card on our way here." The masked man mumbled, ignoring his partner's offended gasp.

"You seein' this?" He whined, but you also ignored him, favoring the sweets that were in the gift basket.

"How'd you know this was my favorite?" You gasped, your reaction had the two Vaqueros looking at each other with proud faces.

"I have my sources."

"Ale, you just asked around base."

"That still counts as sources."

The whole lot of you started breaking into conversation, the boys exchanging their accounts of their ambush. In return, you shared what had happened when you were caught and how you escaped in a small summary of events, which led to them ranting about the men they interrogated and about the drugs themselves. Even Roach, Price, and Gaz popped in one last time for the day to visit you and join in on the discussion. Seeing them all like this, gathered around your bed, laughing and bantering, it almost made you forget all that had happened. You wanted to cherish this moment, keep a mental picture of it framed over the locked box in the back of your mind. Being in the military never allowed much room for friends gathering and all this chit-chatting outside of pubs, so it was a rare sight for sore eyes.

In a way, it made your life a little more meaningful. Reminded you that you weren't just a "good soldier", you were a teammate, a friend. You were important, someone worth fighting for. A purpose.

Although the job was harsh and you always felt like you had a gun to your head, that everyone wanted you dead on the battlefield, the 141 always showed you that someone out there still cared, still wanted you to fight and stay alive. Even if life tried to put you six feet under, they'd be there to pull you out without hesitation. You didn't have to doubt or question why, you already knew the answer.

You were family.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn't last for long, the poor nurse from before had been startled by the sheer volume of people around you, especially when most of them were high-ranking. Regardless, she chastised them for keeping you up when you needed your rest (you didn't) and began to shoo them all out. It was almost comedic how the group of giant, intimidating men left with little resistance in a pile of shame. Christ, they look like a pack of sad puppies, you humorously thought to yourself.

Ghost was the last to leave, hesitating to say something by the way he just stood there, curling his hands into fists. You had to force yourself not to laugh right then and there. For someone who was so silent and stoic for most conversations, he was easy to read. It wasn't hard to notice how his eyes kept flickering to your bandages the entire time he sat there, followed by the flashes of concern on his face every time you had coughed from laughing too hard or accidentally hurt yourself by shifting your body too quickly.

"I'll be alright, Simon." Giving him a reassuring smile, you hoped he'd take your words to heart, "Don't worry about it, I'll be on the field right as rain again in two days tops and you can kick my ass around all you want then. Promise."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and you began to worry that maybe your words were too cheap for him to believe, or maybe that he was more upset than you'd originally thought.

"You better be sure." He finally responded, "I take my promises pretty seriously, remember that, sergeant."

You stared at him all googly-eyed until your lips broke into a wide grin, beaming brightly at him and shouting as he left.

"Message received, L.T!"

a/n: AAAA I haven't written this much in so longgg. I had the first half already down from the last part because it went on for too long, but this one is nearly DOUBLE the word count. It's bound to have some grammar mistakes, but I hope that doesn't ruin the immersion too much. Let me know what you guys think!

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aquagirl1978 · 3 months

Text

Chevalier, Main Route - Romantic End, Ch. 24 - Premium Challenge

Gilbert, Main Route - Romantic End, Ch 24

Same line - one happy, one heartbreaking (I'll let you decide which one is which). Both definitely needed a hug in these scenes. They're both so different, yet so alike, and so connected to the other.

SPOILERS FOR GILBERT MAIN ROUTE AND CHEVALIER SEQUEL EPISODE 0 BELOW:

I finished reading Gilbert's Romantic End earlier. And after that trip (yes, his route made me cry a second time - but also again, not for anything he said or did), I had to be comforted by reading Chevalier.

Ep 0 has another flashback to when Chevalier and Gilbert were young and friends. Gilbert helps another child, and Chevalier is confused why Gilbert would help. He just doesn't get it. Gilbert then tells him...

Flash forward to present day now. Emma is getting fitted for a new diplomatic dress. Chevalier is watching her and thinking about how much he loves her.

Emma was the one to show him what it's like to be loved and show love; Gilbert was the one who told him.

I wonder how Gilbert would feel being called "scourge of the world" and how it compares to "eyepatch bastard" 😂

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri jp spoilers #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikepri chevalier spoilers #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikepri gilbert spoilers

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boldlyvoid · 7 months

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Boldlyvoid Fics set in the Winter Masterlist

Spener Reid x Reader

What To Expect - 39k

Spencer wants to be a dad. The reader wants to be a mom. They fall in love somewhere in the middle of conception and birth of their baby, it was definitely not what either of them expected. (they're born before Christmas)

Better Man (The Story Of Us Series)

When her boyfriend stands her up on her birthday, Spencer shows her he could be a better man than him.

Alone Together - 43K

Y/N took the 12 days leading up to Christmas off from work to spend time with her father, unbeknownst to her that he was planning a trip to Paris this holiday season, leaving her to spend Christmas Alone… or so she thought.(set 2013)

Not Longer Alone Together - 30k 2022 sequel

Amethyst You So Much - 6.4k (AO3)

Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

Mine - 3.5k

all she needs to do is give a witness statement at the station, she ends up taking care of the sweet agent who put his life on the line to avenge her sister.

Ain't it fun? - 20k

reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Professional Hair Dresser (Ph.D) - 6.4k

after Spencer’s knee injury, he starts visiting a salon every week to get his hair washed

Lovers Quarrel - 1.4k

Request: okay! so the request i had was that you and spencer are fighting and it’s bad, you both say very hurtful things to each other, and then you argue again after everything cools down and you end up having angry makeup sex, but spencer thinks of what he said to you and he starts crying during sex but he keeps going at it and it’s angsty but has a happy ending?

Cupids Chokehold - 2k

Every morning since they started working together Spencer gets the coffee and meets her outside her apartment, today she’s not waiting for him.

Hotch x Reader

Reacquainted at Christmas - 3k

he just needs a new pair of pyjama bottoms, she just needs a sleep shirt while in town and there’s only 1 pair of pyjamas left at the store on Christmas Eve.

Cowboy Like Me - 31k (winter to spring)

Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Bigger Than the Whole Sky (Part 1) - 39k

what could've been isn't what would've been, she realizes that when she finds everything that love should've been in her boss, Aaron Hotchner, instead of her ex-husband.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request

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bumblesimagines · 21 days

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i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all. let's set some ground rules. so… how do we do this? Sarah Cameron

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all.

let's set some ground rules.

so… how do we do this?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

and so the sequel becomes a holy trinity

Sarah Cameron was a pretty girl. Everyone knew it, whether they acknowledged it with awe, envy, or lust, everyone knew the Cameron genes worked like magic. The button nose, the full lips, the sun-kissed skin, the luscious hair that was a mix of blonde and brown strands, the dark brown eyes. The talk of the town, the pretty princess of Figure Eight, the beloved darling of the Cameron family. Sarah Cameron had no business being in the Cut. Hell, she had no business hanging out with JJ's troublemaking friends. She had no business seeking him out, and no business lying in the bed of a Maybank. Funny how the world worked, (Y/N) thought.

Maybanks and Camerons weren't supposed to mix. They were from two different worlds. And yet...

Between the altercation between JJ and their father and Barry's rage over being jumped and robbed, (Y/N) had an ever-growing headache. He found himself glad JJ had beaten their father into near silence and fucked off before (Y/N) could get home, although he'd left him to patch their father up and deal with quiet, angered mutterings. His father luckily seemed either too exhausted or too drunk to bother him much, leaving him to spend his free day in his room listening to music while he gathered the will to get a Tylenol and step out into the world. He could use a drink or two or three. Maybe he'd stop by a bar and listen to Barracuda Mike's tales about his international dealings until the alcohol knocked him unconscious.

Following in Daddy Dearest's footsteps. Typical.

His father staggered into the doorway, slamming his fist twice against the old wooden door with a sneer. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat and he tentatively paused the music, eyeing the subtle way his father swayed from side to side. Nobody could make him revert to childhood like Luke did, back when he'd cradle a crying JJ while JJ's mom and Luke got into screaming matches over one thing or the other. "Mind tellin' me why the hell there's a Cameron standin' on our goddamn porch? I don't want no problems with Ward, (Y/N)."

"Jesus," (Y/N) exhaled, pulling the earbuds from his ears and standing up. "Which Cameron, Dad? The idiot or the chick?"

"The chick." Fuckin' Camerons. Fuckin' Sarah. "If Ward catches wind of his little girl strutting aroun' here half-naked-"

"What are you even talking about?" (Y/N) tossed his phone aside and sucked his teeth, slipping past his father and hearing those familiar heavy footsteps follow him to the front door. Sure enough, there stood Sarah Cameron, her head tilted out toward the marsh and arms folded over her bare stomach. Christ.

"I want no problems. Understood, boy?" Luke hissed in his ear, moving past him and sparing the blonde a glance before he walked toward his truck. (Y/N) inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face, finding relief in the fact his father coincidentally needed to head into town under the guise of an errand, when they both knew Luke only ran 'errands' when he needed a hit of something strong. Probably needed something to take his mind off the bruises on his face.

"I shouldn't have to explain why showing up here, on the Cut, dressed in a bikini top and shorts is a shit idea, Sarah."

"I was going to the beach with some- whatever, it doesn't matter. I... I wanted to talk about the other day, alright? You know, when you basically yelled at me-"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Next time, instead of showing up, you get my number from one of the Pogues and you text me, alright? The guys my dad hangs out with call girls like you jailbait, Sarah. They're sleazy fucks who couldn't care less about where you come from." (Y/N) huffed, but regardless, he pushed the front door open enough for her to step inside, eyes following the cloud of dust left behind by his father's truck as it sped down the road.

The Maybank's home was hardly anything to look at but (Y/N) managed to keep it clean, at least whenever Hurricane Luke didn't pass through. The general upkeep, and frankly everything else, fell on his shoulders with JJ gone half the time and Luke too intoxicated to care about the world around him. Just about every piece of furniture was old, passed down from Maybank to Maybank without so much as a repair or restoration. At the very least, trying to fix the broken things at a young age had given him some pretty decent skills. He couldn't do much about the holes in the walls and doors, though.

"It's my day off, Sarah. I'd like to spend it without stressing over any of the bullshit that's been going on the past couple of days, 'kay? Say your piece and go off with your boytoy, princess. I want to have a beer in hand by noon so make it quick." (Y/N) sat back on the armrest of the worn couch, crossing his arms and watching the girl study her surroundings. Sarah slipped her tote bag off her shoulder and set it on another seat, leaning back against the barely used dining table. Great. Definitely wasn't going to be quick.

"I didn't appreciate you getting in my face, for starters. It was rude and unnecessary and I wasn't even given a chance to explain our side of the story. We found the gold in the Crain house and we went to your job thinking you were there. You weren't, obviously. The old lady and Barry were and they set us up. Barry held us at gunpoint and tried robbing us. We defended ourselves. JJ went rogue and robbed Barry. We told him not to." Sarah kept her arms crossed as she spoke, finishing with a light shrug and slightly jutted lips. "I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar, either. I wanted to set the story straight."

"You could've found diamonds or emeralds or rubies in that old ass house, and I still would've been pissed about this treasure hunt continuing. Big John is dead and you know how he died? Treasure hunting. John B wants to die like his dad? Fine by me. I stopped liking him a long time ago. But JJ? The idiot that I spent my whole life raising? I'm gonna make sure that little shit dies of old age. If you want to merrily march into danger with Routledge, fine, go for it. Keep my brother out of it."

"Why do you keep bringing JB up as if I like him? I already told you John B isn't my boyfriend. He's my friend, and yes, I care about him. I-I want to see him happy and that's why I'm helping him but-"

"Is that the only reason you're helping him?" (Y/N) asked, rising from the armrest and taking slow steps toward the blonde. Her brows lifted slightly and her lips twitched, slowly curling upward into that little smile despite how much she tried resisting it. She looked away from him defiantly and clicked her tongue, eyes trailing back toward him.

"Are you suggesting I became friends with John B just to see you? Quite the ego you've got, Maybank. I said I liked you, not that I'm obsessed with you." Her voice softened, laced with playfulness and a hint of mischief, her previous irritation (if she'd even been irritated to begin with) long gone.

"I was gonna say you wanted to piss off Carrera but if that's the first thing that came to mind..." He trailed off, hearing her scoff in soft disbelief before she swatted at his shoulder halfheartedly. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips slightly, peering up at him through her dark lashes.

"You're a dick." She murmured, not nearly as offended as the last time she'd uttered those words.

"Yeah," He dipped down slightly, hands finding the back of her thighs and fingers digging into the warm plushness of her skin. Her hands landed on his shoulders, soft giggles leaving her as he lifted her onto the table, the wood creaking softly under the added weight. One hand slid up from his shoulder and curled around his neck, the tip of her nails slightly scraping against his skin. Sarah's skin flushed. "And the sky's blue."

"But what else is new, right?" Her lips stretched out into a smile before she leaned in, pressing them against his as his hands moved from her thighs to her hips, half his palms pressing against her skin and the other half against her denim shorts. He pulled her closer until she'd gone flush against him, her legs wrapping loosely around him. Her arm curled around his shoulder and her head tilted to the side, a muffled, flustered giggle leaving her when his teeth lightly dug into her bottom lip. His hand moved and pressed flat against her exposed back, trailing upward until his fingers found the bottom straps of the olive green bikini. With one swift tug, they went undone.

There was a dizzying aspect to making out with a Cameron, he'd come to realize. Maybe it was the knowledge that her father could be considered one of the most influential men on the island or that his life could change for better or worse with just a word from her. It was an intoxicating feeling if he had to be honest. Sarah seemed to feel similarly considering her fingers dug into him and pulled him as close as possible, her breath escaping her in soft pants. She leaned back briefly and pulled her hands away, dipping them under her hair and undoing the straps keeping the bikini on her. She tossed it aside blindly and mushed their lips together again, arms coiling around him and body slightly lifting itself onto him. His hands returned to her thighs and he lifted her again, letting muscle memory kick in as he found his way back to his bedroom.

He really needed to stop hanging out with the Pogues. They were messing with his judgment.

At the very least, he'd spent his free day doing something fun, even if regret began to dig into his back. He was a Maybank. He lived up to the asshole playboy part of his family's reputation 'cause there was nothing better than messing around to take the stress off, but he never enjoyed toying with someone's heart. He'd made a rule in middle school after his first heartbreak to never knowingly get involved with anyone who actually liked him. The first time with Sarah hadn't broken that rule but now...

"Can I ask what we are or will that ruin your mood?" Sarah's voice piped up, her lips dragging lightly over his shoulder. His fingertip ran up and down her spine, feeling the goosebumps along her skin while he stared at the ceiling. It felt grounding to have weight pressing him against the bed, even if it was Sarah Cameron of all people.

"I just like having sex with you sometimes. That's all." He answered and she shifted, hands planting themselves on either side of his head and body lifting itself up slightly. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, the ends tickling his cheek.

"Sometimes?" She repeated with an arched brow. "You want to do this more often?"

"You're not bad for a virgin." He murmured.

"Not one anymore, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." His hand moving along her back dipped under the covers that'd pooled around her hips, squeezing the skin hiding underneath. She flushed immediately and lowered herself back onto him, burying her warmed face in his neck and huffing. "You were pretty loud-"

"Okay." She groaned and lifted her head again, her reddened cheeks puffed out slightly. "So… how do we do this? Have you done this before?"

"Yeah, until she and I had a pregnancy scare. It was enough to make us block each other." (Y/N) answered, pushing himself up slightly and against the wall behind his pillows. Her legs tangled around his further, and her eyes widened at the revelation. "Let's set some ground rules. I'm going to give you my number and you'll use it whenever you want to see me. If anyone asks, it's just to keep in touch about JJ. Routledge probably thinks you've got the hots for him so I'd prefer if you didn't tell him or Thornton. Let those two go at each other. If you want to be spontaneous like today, you bring protection. I really don't need a little bastard running around right now."

"I've been on birth control since freshmen year. Rose insisted on it."

"Good for you. My mom was on it when she decided to fuck around and find out and here I am now." He raised his brows at her. "Anyways... don't get your hopes up for anything, Sarah. I mean it. If you don't think you can handle it, that's fine. We're supposed to be having fun, not getting hurt by disappointment."

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