#there's some spanish in this but i think y'all will be able to get it with the context given

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity,

A/N: This has been something I have been thinking about for a while. I hope y'all enjoy it!

Spencer did not realize that someone could know more about anything intellectual than he did. It honestly baffled him, when Hotch called him into the office, to introduce the two of you. 

“Spencer this is Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, Doctor Y/L/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” 

He gave you a small smile, and a slightly awkward wave. You were beautiful, there was no doubt about it, an absolute plus to the fact that you were intelligent. He was captivated by your eyes but quickly coughed and looked back at Hotch. 

“Doctor Y/L/N—”

“Please Agent, call me by my first name after the initial introductions, Doctor makes me feel a tad bit ridiculous after like the second time.” You couldn’t have been more than twenty four, Reid deduced. 

Hotch smiled at you, nodding. “Please, call me Aaron, or Hotch, I feel the same way about agent. Reid,” He turned towards Reid. “Y/N, is going to be a consultant on this next case, and you two will be working closely together.”

Reid was suddenly excited by the prospect of working with a consultant. He usually dreaded them, but something about you made him excited to actually be able to converse intellectually with someone on the team. 

But luckily for Morgan, you were not what anyone was expecting. You all had boarded the jet, sitting around and chatting since you had a long flight from DC to Oregon, not really willing to get into the details of the case just yet. 

“So, Doctor Y/L/N, what made you choose Shakespeare?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Agent Morgan, if you keep using my official title, you’re going to be talking to the wall. Wanna try again?” 

His jaw dropped slightly, enjoying the banter you were providing. Derek Morgan was far from ugly, far from it. But he simply wasn’t your type. But that did not mean you couldn’t flirt back. 

“Well then, Miss Y/N, why Shakespeare.” 

You smiled, “Shakespeare is just another language. And I already speak French, Arabic, Spanish, some Latin, a little Greek, and I’m learning enough Mandarin and Cantonese to get by on my next trip to China. So understanding Shakespeare from a linguistic point, I’ve already got covered. Especially since it was something I could read easily from a young age.” 

JJ and Emily had stopped their conversation and turned to face you, eagerly listening in to what you have to say. 

“But, from a theatrical point, his writing is so incredibly intricate. There are layers upon layers of text and context and subtext throughout all of his plays and sonnets, not to mention the fact that Shakespeare can be transformed, moved from one thing to another incredibly easily. You have to factor in that he was a misogynist, anti semitic, probably-most-definitely racist, among all of the other things, but adapting his works throughout time is something I have a special interest in, particularly his portrayal of woman and how that has been changed throughout productions over the years, mainly focusing in comedies and this strange need for him to have happy endings end in weddings.”

The jet was all staring at you, while a smirk slowly slid onto Derek’s face. “Looks like you got some competition here, Pretty Boy.” 

You shrugged at Derek, and looked back at your phone. “I appreciate competition more than meaningless run-around conversations Derek. If you’re going to profile me, then just profile me. Or google me really. There’s no need to prod and pretend like you’re not trying to find out whether or not I’m single. If you wanted to ask me out, you should just ask me out.” 

Jaws on the plane dropped. Derek tried to stutter out a response but was cut off by Emily, smirking over at him. “Besides consulting on murder cases, what do you actually do with a PhD in Shakespeare?”

You looked up at Emily and shrugged. “Whatever I really want to do. It’s just flexible enough that I can bullshit a job I want and take it, excluding present company. Usually I consult in England with the Globe Theatre and the Royal Shakespeare Company, I also guest lecture Shakespeare for younger audiences, like high schoolers and first years in college because I’m still young enough that I could be considered nerdy by a high schooler, but have college freshmen not be able to talk to me because I’m just good enough to get away with it.”

“What did you get your undergrad in?” Spencer spoke for the first time to you since you met him, you smiled a little bit. 

“No one really asks me that.” You looked over at Spencer. “I have a bachelors in Directing with minors in English Literature, French, and Classics, and then I went on and got my Masters in Art History, since the visual aspect of the Arts is what interests me so much.” 

Rossi nodded, “Makes sense considering I’ve seen your thesis–very impressive.” 

“What did you write about?” JJ looked over at you. 

“I–” You started but Rossi interrupted you. “Actually, if any of you had done any research, or were familiar with the Theatrical Arts, you would know that her thesis was an incredibly well-received production of Hamlet that delved into the female psyche and experience.” 

Your jaw dropped slightly. “I-I didn’t think you, any of you would have even known that. Let alone had time to go and see my production?”

“Well, I have a fondness for the arts.” 

You shook your head. “Or incredible timing.” 

“Wha–timing?” JJ scoffed. 

“Well,it’s— the program was in London, and it was only running for a few weeks…”

“Rossi when the hell did you go to London?” Derek finally spoke up, slightly captivated by you, but not in the way Reid was. You were something else, something completely new, which meant he could learn, and you were something he wanted to learn everything about. 

“Well, right before I rejoined the BAU, I did a lecturing series over at Scotland Yard, and everyone had been discussing this production by the youngest female director to ever direct at the Bridge Theatre. I loved your use of, what were they, silks?” 

You nodded, slightly embarrassed, mostly in awe. 

“Ah yes, your usage of silks and the columns. I was on the floor, part of the cattle that was moved around. Very innovative use of that space, very impressive.” 

“I’d have to agree.” Hotch spoke up, and you turned to look at him, eyes even wider than before. He smiled at the look on your face. “When we got this case, and we were requesting you as a consultant, I watched the recording. Very good work Y/n.”

“W-wow, um, thank you so much Age–Hotch. I really appreciate it–from the both of you.” You smiled at him and Rossi. 

“I would love to hear all about this production, if you don’t mind me asking.” Emily slid across the aisle, taking the seat across from you, JJ doing the same, crowding Derek. 

“Well, as Rossi said, it was about the female experience, and my Hamlet, was absolutely incredible, really took on the queer aspect of the role since Ophelia was still a woman, and–” You explained the concept, the design, the thought behind all of it. Every single person on the plane was simply obsessed with you by the time you were done, asking questions when they were curious. It confounded Spencer how he had never really paid attention to that section of the world of academia, and he was almost beating himself up over it, because he had missed you this whole time. 

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

“Eyes look your last, Arms take your—this is Romeo’s death monologue before he stabs himself. And this other one, is ‘Be buried quick with her, and so will I’, which is Hamlet trying to fight Laertes after he learns of Ophelia’s death…And..this is the one from this morning ” You turned to the sheriff who was just trying to make sense of the fact that you just were able to comprehend and relay Shakespearean information after reading the images of the victim's blood used on the walls, so calmly. “Sheriff?”

“Sorry, yes. Yes” 

You frowned a bit, “They’re getting more violent. This is Brutus finding out Portia is dead–’with meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now…”

Reid looked over at you, “All of them are the men’s reactions to the death of their beloved.” 

You nodded and sighed. “That means, uh…If he has a list,” You walked over to the white board and started writing the names of the fictional couples on it. “He still has Antony and Cleopatra…Macbeth and Lady Macbeth,,,,and….”

“And what?” The sheriff looked between you and Reid, as you turned a little white. “The um. The last couple dealing with murder/suicide of each other is, uh, Othello.”

Hotch gave you a look. “Explain.” 

“What do you know about Othello?” 

Hotch furrowed his brow.

You took his silence as permission to ramble. “It’s just a theory but, it’s regarded as not only one of the most tragic endings to lovers, even beyond the stupid miscommunications of Romeo and Juliet, because Othello kills his wife, believing she had cheated on him, suffocating her to death on their marriage bed, and then once he realizes he’s been tricked by Iago, he kills himself next to her body. It’s horrendous.”

“If I had to guess, He’s forcing the husbands to kill their wives, and then he kills them..” Spencer followed up, analyzing the pictures across the tables. “Based on the way they were positioned—he’s setting them up as a series of muder-suicides, just like Shakespeare.” 

“Actually.” You picked up one of the pictures and handed it to Hotch. “I think it’s a woman.” 

“You just stole Reid��s line.” Derek mused from the doorway, handing you a cup of coffee, which you gratefully accepted. 

Reid huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not my line.” 

“It is.” Hotch said dryly as he analyzed what you had just told him. “Y/n, can you please get me a list of the monologues left, so we can try and figure out who might be his next victims, so we can try and link the victims we do have.” 

You nodded and sat down at your laptop. It was bugging you slightly at how much you enjoyed working on this case, working with the BAU, working with Doctor Reid. 

This was the most action your PhD had seen since you had written it. 

Part 2

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Chapter tags/warnings: smut, piv sex, breeding kink (kinda, more like territory kink), possessiveness, oral (f receiving), talk of m oral, pwp, manipulation, rough sex, rough oral sex, nipple stimulation, squirting, stuff I'm definitely forgetting, dirty talk, manhandling, stupid amounts of making out/kissing

Chapter summary: You arrive at your new home and spend some quality time with the man of your dreams

A/N: Hey y'all! Hope we're still liking this story! Gotta be honest, 90% of this chapter is pure smut lmao. Can't go wrong there! (or can we?) Thank you for putting up with my bs and for staying tuned while I get some more served up!

***

Javi’s house is almost exactly what you had expected it to be. It’s not too big, and not too small. The Spanish style home is tucked back behind some woods in the middle of a small plot of land, which is apparently owned by his father. 

There’s a pasture on half of his property filled with cows, which he tends to in return for living in the house. It’s peaceful and cozy, reminding you of the man who lives in it. 

It doesn’t take long for you and Javi to haul your things inside, placing your clothes in his room, and any extra belongings in a hall closet. Your stomach makes nervous flutters the entire time, keeping you giddy with happiness despite your current situation. 

Within just a few hours, you’ve gotten engaged, and have moved out—well, been kicked out, but it sounds better the other way—of your house and into Javier’s. It seems like a dream come true when you really think about it. 

You fiddle with the ring on your finger as you bite your lip to hide the smile that’s creeping across your face. It’s absolutely the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen, and it fits you perfectly. How did he even figure that out? 

It’s a simple ring, but intricate enough to hold anyone’s attention. The plain, gold band comes up to mold into a thorny vine design near the top, where it holds the perfect sized diamond. Not big or obnoxious enough to be gaudy, but keeping on the delicate side. 

You also appreciate the way the vine design doesn’t continue all the way to the bottom, instead flattening out so that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable if it scratches or digs into your skin. It seems like Javi really thought this out, on top of knowing that he was going to marry you one day. Never have you experienced something so romantic in your life. 

As you’re staring down at it, completely enamored with your thoughts, Javi comes up behind you. He admires the piece of jewelry over your shoulder, putting one hand carefully on the side of your head to pull you to him so he can place a kiss to the opposite side. 

“It’s so pretty, Javi,” you tell him without taking your eyes off of it. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it until it was on your finger and Javi pulled back onto the road, and you’ve been in a trance since then. You lean into him, finally looking up to see him gazing adoringly back down at you.

“You deserve pretty things, pretty girl,” he says, wrapping you in a hug as you lean your head into his chest. He sighs and rests his chin on your head.

“I hope you know we’re not going to be able to have a big wedding at first, but I promise you that we will when the time is right. I want everything to be perfect for you, bebecita.” 

You smile at that. You don’t mind that you can’t have a ceremony. You know that he will keep his promise, and you’ll get the fairytale wedding you’ve always dreamed of one day. He would do anything for you, he told you so. 

HIs hand comes up to your chin, and you allow him to tilt your head up to capture your lips in a slow kiss. He slips his tongue between your lips, gently licking into your mouth in a way that makes your entire body light up with the sensuality of it. 

Sparks jump in your belly, and you can feel wetness seeping into your panties. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body responds to his touch. You moan into his mouth and bring your arms up to circle his neck, leaning on your toes to deepen the kiss until it feels like you’re trying to consume each other. 

Javi lets you push him backwards to the couch, keeping his mouth on yours and pulling you back with him as he takes a seat. Your thighs bracket his, and the position immediately reminds you of just last night, when the two of you had been in the back of his truck, you giving your body to him for the first time. 

Is it weird that you already want him again?

You decide it’s not as you start to grind down on him, and Javi definitely agrees with that assessment by the way he groans into your mouth. 

“Shit, baby, lay down for me. Gonna do this properly this time,” Javi pulls away from you to say, his lips still close enough to be brushing against yours. 

You eagerly comply to his request, letting him place you down on your back across the seat of the couch. He takes his position above you, giving you a few more teasing kisses before he starts to trail down your body. 

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s doing, a gasp tumbling from your swollen lips as he sharply nips at your neck. His hands are slithering up your shirt, and you subconsciously arch your back to help him get it off you. 

He grabs hold of the hem and raises it up until your stomach and your breasts are exposed, his mouth worshiping each inch of skin as it’s revealed to his greedy gaze. 

“So pretty and soft for me, sweetheart.” 

Javi’s lips are so close to your skin when he says it, that you can feel the moisture from his breath. You whine and wiggle, trying to get some friction somewhere. Your nipples are almost painfully hard against your bra, and you wish he would take it off. 

“Please, Javi,” you beg, bucking your hips up while simultaneously trying to keep your hands planted on the couch. He didn’t give you explicit instruction to keep them there, but you see the game he’s playing, and you know he would if you moved them right now. 

The look in his eyes can only be described as feral, fed by the carnal desire to have you above all. Seeing your struggle, he reaches his hands up again, and you lift up so he can undo your bra and then pull it off. 

As soon as the article hits the ground, his hands are on you, fondling your breasts and thumbing over your erect nipples in a manner that makes you keen. You close your eyes as he moves up enough to seal his mouth over one of the buds, sucking and flicking his tongue harshly. 

You moan his name wildly as he grasps you so that you’re unable to move, stuck with nothing to do other than take the assault on your sensitive flesh. You feel a heat stirring between your legs—which you didn’t know was even possible without direct stimulation—and when Javi lets one hand sneak down to rub tiny circles on your clit at the same time as he bites down on you, you’re coming undone in a matter of seconds. 

You’re distracted enough by the blinding pleasure to be almost unaware of Javi pulling his mouth from your breast and snaking down even lower. His thumb stays on your clit as he spews bouts of encouragement your way. 

It’s only when he removes his hand and pulls your pants and panties down that you open your eyes again to watch him scoop up your thighs, and dive into your cunt like a starved man. Your hands immediately fly to his messy hair, already damp from his efforts. 

Javi moans into you as he tongues in and out, not wasting a second before going full force, alternating between your overstimulated clit and your weeping pussy. You’re getting light headed, your entire body heating up as he begins to pull another orgasm to the edge, just waiting for that one push. Just as you think he’s about to give it to you, he pulls away, breathing heavily as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. 

“You have no idea how fucking good you taste, sweetheart,” he says, and you don’t know if you’ve ever heard him say anything with so much conviction. 

Despite the crudeness of what the two of you are doing right now, you feel your face flush at his words. He licks a quick stripe up your seam before coming up again, and you almost come untouched at how much this look puts the last to shame. You’ve heard the term “pussy drunk”, but this might be your first time truly seeing it. 

“Maybe I’ll fuck you with my cock and make you taste yourself on me after I make you come, would you like that, baby? See how god damn sweet you taste?” 

Your jaw completely drops. You didn’t even know he could talk this dirty. You just keep getting luckier with this man. Your head nods frantically before you can even think about it. Javi chuckles lightly from between your thighs. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” is all he says before dipping down to continue feasting on you. 

It only takes a couple of strokes for you to be coming on Javi’s tongue, though he moans and squirms enough for it to sound like he’s the one getting his second orgasm today. He only pulls away once you’re whining and tugging on his hair from the overstimulation. 

For a moment, he looks like he’s going to get up and strip, but you see something flash across his eyes, and he just reaches down instead. Your head falls back as you hear the sound of his zipper going down, just the thought of him fucking you naked while he’s fully clothed makes your cunt pulse with need. 

You look down, and your mouth goes dry when you see that he doesn’t have any underwear on. He keeps his eyes on yours even though they’re trained on where he’s pulling his thick, throbbing cock from the opening in his dark jeans. 

Your eyes flicker back up to his as he lines himself up, wasting no time in pushing into you. Your jaw goes slack at the stretch as he leans over you completely, putting his palms on the couch on either side of your head as he sinks in all the way. Your own arms wrap beneath his to cling and claw at his back. Just by his body language and the hungry look he’s giving you, you have a feeling you’ll need something to hang on to. 

Somehow, it feels even better than the first time. You feel stuffed to the brim, but also complete. Like Javi’s been your missing piece this whole time, and now that you’ve found him you feel whole. When you’re staring into his big, deep, brown eyes, you see nothing but adoration for you. Lust. Love. 

And it’s in this exact moment that you know you’re in love with him. 

Javi hisses as he rears back enough for just the tip to remain inside you, and he captures your lips in a feverish kiss as he thrusts back in, already nailing your g-spot. You gasp and he steals the air from your lungs. You can taste a hint of yourself mixed in with his saliva, and you had no idea until this moment that something like that could turn you on so much. 

He quickly picks up the pace, and you find yourself too weak to do much more than whine and moan for him, much less continue kissing him. Javi brings one hand up to hold your chin and make out with you even though you can’t reciprocate. You don’t mind, the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth is an orgasmic feeling in itself. 

You just focus on breathing through your nose, keeping a hold of the man who’s sending you up the couch with his cock, and the feeling of his thick tip pummeling into your most sensitive spot. Your entire body is shaking with the intensity of the sheer force he’s slamming into you with. 

There’s a strange but good feeling starting to tug at you someplace between your pussy and your abdomen, making your desperate sounds come out wobbly in addition to being smothered by your fiance’s mouth. 

He makes a strangled noise and suddenly moves on to sucking the skin on your throat. You wonder if he can feel the way you’re tightening around him in anticipation as this new feeling grows and spreads. 

“J-Javi,” you warn, unsure about what’s happening. You almost feel like you need to pee, but this sensation is far more intense. 

He must not hear you, because his pace doesn’t falter and he doesn’t look up at you. He just keeps jackhammering his hips to yours and sucking hickeys on your already-sensitive skin.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because you’re already feeling that coil snap, crying out as you tighten like a vice and gush all over Javi’s dick. 

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, your body tensing as you ride out what has to be the longest orgasm you’ve ever had. You barely even hear Javi talking to you through your foggy mind. It’s like you’ve been transported to another place completely, a place where you can only feel pleasure. 

“Such a good f-fucking girl, squirting all over my cock like that,” Javi praises as he nudges your chin up to make room for more sloppy kisses. 

As you begin to come down, you can hear the steady slapslapslap that comes from where your bodies connect, each collision now aided by your juices and Javi’s heavy balls smacking against your swollen cunt. 

It’s a disgusting sound in retrospect, but it turns you on even more when you hear your whines and Javi’s grunts blended into it. You can tell he’s starting to get close by the way he isn’t pulling out as much, and his noises are becoming more frantic. 

“R-remember to p-pull out,” you breathe into his ear just in case he forgot. He, again, shows no sign of having heard you. You must be speaking even quieter than you thought. 

“Javi, please pull out,” you say, louder this time even though it’s a task to do so through your exhaustion. This time, he hears you. 

“Please, baby, it’ll be f-fine, gonna marry you, let me come in this pretty cunt,” he says, though you’re unsure of the correlation between those two things. 

“No, Javi, it’s not safe.” 

He’s pumping himself harder and faster, getting up to the edge. 

“Buy you–fuck—buy you a plan B,” he grunts, his voice strained. 

“No, n-not this time. C-can’t risk it,” you squeak, clawing at his back as he pushes you even further up the cushions. 

You hear him mutter a curse as he pulls out just enough to grasp his dick and splatter rope after rope of cum on your damp stomach. You let out a breath when he finishes and lays back down on you, his cum spreading between your sweaty bodies. 

You’re both breathing heavily, trying to come back down to earth. The ceiling fan above you is spinning slowly, pushing just enough air your way as you close your eyes and toy with Javi’s curls where his head is resting on your chest.

“I love you, Javi.” 

You don’t know why you say it, well,you do, but you hadn’t known the words were even on your tongue or even on your mind. They just slipped out without a thought. Javi tenses against you, and you feel a ball of dread drop into your stomach. 

Was it too soon? Does he not love you back? Are you being too clingy? Too immature? 

When he looks up at you, your breath caught in your throat, there are tears in his eyes along with another emotion you can’t quite place. One corner of his lip twitches, like he’s resisting the urge to smile too hard.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he says, obviously a little choked up. 

You grin at him as he climbs up again to kiss you, this time soft and slow, with care. 

“Going to take such good care of you,” he promises when he pulls away.

*** Thank you for reading!! I would love to know what y'all are thinking so far!

Taglist is still open if you would like to join <3

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @movievillainess721 @callachloe @missladym1981 @casa-boiardi

[arrowheadedbitch]

Okay, we were talking about multilingual Shawn in the discord server and I just wanted to share it with all y'all

So, we decided Shawn should be fluent in (I know it's an unrealistic amount, let us live) 13 languages so he can say he knows a baker's dozen languages

Which leads to everyone else going "what the fuck does that mean"

There are some languages the we know he knows in canon and some that are more unclear, and then of course the rest of the languages are just complete fanon

We mostly chose languages we failed to learn lol

So, here's the list we chose.

English, Hebrew, Thai, Hindi, German, Argentinian Spanish, French, ASL, Welsh, Russian, Italian, Polish.

When he tries to speak two languages that are even semi similar, he ends up speaking a weird conglomeration of both by accident

"he tries to hold a conversation and ends up switching languages everytime he doesnt know a word" -J

But these are the languages he can speak, and just the fluent ones at that!

I think he has a completely separate list of languages he can read and it mostly does not coincide with the ones he can speak lmao

"Someone calls him stupid a little *too* rudely and he is not in a great mood today so he starts cussing them out in all the languages he can to prove a point" -me

He absolutely forgets words in English and can only remember it in pretty much any other language

But he uses it to further his "dumb" persona, no moment wasted

When he forgets the word in English, he'll just say whatever word he thinks is probably closest and let's someone else correct him

Then he goes "I've heard it both ways"

" It was the- um *fuck, I can only think of the word in French, but they don't know I know french!* uh, jigsaw!"

"You mean *hacksaw,* Shawn?"

"...I've heard it both ways."

"NO YOU HAVENT"

A foreigner comes up to Shawn asking what the word for something in English is but he *also* forgot the English word for it so he's just sitting there staring at it like *Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

He probably learned pineapple individually in every language he could get his hands on 💀

He probably learned curse words first lmao

He can say curse words in languages he doesn't even speak

Like "I can speak 13 languages, but I can say hello in 8 more and I can say fuck in 29"

His greatest accomplishment (in his eyes) is the acquiring of so many swears

"My goal is to be able to call my dad a bitch in every language known to man the day he dies"

#LetShawnSayFuck

Also we had to look it up and he wouldn't be on an FBI watch list for knowing 13 languages, but if the FBI ever found out he would NEVER know peace again (not that he leads that peaceful a life) because they would NEVER stop trying to recruit that man

He would be on a list labeled "PLEASE recrute this man, someone FOR THE LOVE OF GOD hire this guy, PLEASE" so not quite a watchlist but close enough

Now, to tag the people who were part of the convo! @j-snapdragon @thespiritssaidso and majesticrhyhorn but idk if they have a tumblr

[omar-bb]

notes & quotes from omar's live today

he wanted to release Red Light sooner but he and his team wanted to get it right

he's excited to headline at Gröna Lund - gonna be playing a new song there and at his other shows this summer!

"one of my favorite songs. i'm telling you, you will fucking choke when you hear that one. it's dark, it's dirty, it's groovy..."

"should I leak some of it? it would be fun for you to be able to sing along..."

"i hope it's fine by my team that I just leaked that"

"maybe it'll be the next single after Red Light. only maybe. I'm not promising anything"

someone asked about an Asia tour - "I cannot be live bc I'm gonna leak a lot of shit. But you wanna know something funny? This song .... it is actually a k-pop pitch song from start. it was made with k-pop in mind. it is not fully k-pop and now that i've been doing my touch on it, it is a little less k-pop but.. they actually wrote the song k-pop in mind."

teased doing a tour in the future

another "leak" - "I was actually meant to go to korea like right now or a month ago, like after the oscars ... i was supposed to go to korea. but it never happened. i was very sad. but maybe one day.

he had a scared moment where music started playing in the other room and he thought it was an unreleased song but it was just his alejandro tiktok lol

inspo for red light? "I didn't write the song ... it was a demo that got sent to me. at first ... it was a girl singing red light, and when i heard it the first time i was like yo this sounds like fucking rihanna ... i was like is this a long lost rihanna song? this is the greatest thing i've ever heard. and then i just fucking took it. i was like this is my song before rihanna takes it from me. and now it's my song."

Red Light music video when? "we shot a visualizer, so it's not a music video ... it's very beautiful. very stunning. i've never done anything like that. ... it's not a real music video. it's more visuals for the song."

will be doing red light on 25 may and also a new song

"you'll hear a whole new omar when you hear that song"

he has been replying to messages in his community on whatsapp and sms. they'll be leaking more stuff through there

new OMR Beauty product when? "....................... stay tuned"

"you will die when you see the next launch of OMR Beauty. that's all I'm saying. Next!!!"

will he start a fashion brand? "i don't really have the time for that unfortunately. ... not for now"

thinks he is not gonna bleach his hair

Someone asked red light spanish version when? and he sang a bit of it in spanish

omar backflip when? "when i'm in heaven"

is he going to act again?"i'm actually reading some scripts right now. just reading, it's not anything happening really yet, just testing the waters. we'll see, i would love to act. i actually miss acting, it was a fun time ... nothing will ever be like YR obviously, but just the thought of meeting new ppl, new friends, being together for a few weeks or a few months, and filming smth very special, that would be so much fun. ... i'm actually reading a really cool script right now" but more focusing on music right now

he has 40-50 new songs from the last year apparently??? Maybe i misunderstood this

album when? "don't know, we'll see" - he has a lot of songs and could drop an album but he wants it to be perfect so it'll be awhile

there will be red light merch this summer

he and edvin hang out sometimes

not doing Rix FM this year

there will not be 12 red light remixes lol "but maybe a few"

Eurovision 2025? "absolutely not. sorry not sorry." something about always being thrown out of the competition

he's stopped drinking coffee regularly and drinks matcha instead

someone suggested hoemars as the fandom name and he laughed lol

a lot is happening in May he says !! "y'all better eat good, sleep well" lolol

he said he might do another live next week once Red Light is out

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Can we get being married to Javier headcanons?? Pls and thank you 🙏

Married To Javier Escuella HC

I see Javier hc and go feral

Warnings: None

He was made for married life

The night of your marriage, he carried you into your home bridal style and kicked open the front door with you in his arms

Said he thought it was super romantic

Probably practiced it a few times before the big day

Wedding cake was tres leches don't argue

He adjusts to domestic life nicely, finally getting a break from all the hardships of life and gets to live out his days with his wonderful spouse by his side

He does a lot of the cooking. Makes you breakfast in bed when he's able to

But he always makes sure you have your coffee

His ring finger is never seeing a break. He will NEVER take that ring off

ALWAYS finds a way to mention you in a conversation with ANYONE

If anyone tries to flirt with him, he just shoves his ring in their face

"ESTOY CASADO"

Honeymoon phases never ends

He is just so head over heels in love. He will continuously do romantic shit throughout y'all's marriage: serenading you, trailing rose petals from the front door toward the bedroom, candlelit baths together, having fully cooked meals ready for you by the time you get home

Indoctrinates you into his self-care routine if you don't already have one

Would do one of those Chicano glamour-shot 2000's couples photoshoots with you (PLEASE TELL ME Y'ALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT)

Omg I can just imagine y'all living your days out on some terrenos in Mexico with your own ranch and cute little animals. Your wedding gift to yourselves

If you don't already know Spanish he'd teach you some key phrases and words to help you out

Also thinks its very intimate to be teaching someone his language and helps him feel more connected to them

[evermoresversion]

hi! I just recently came across your fics and I’m loving them! I wanted to ask for something with steven conklin and a fem!reader, i was thinking maybe something that starts with angst like maybe she overhears him talking about how annoying she is and clingy but in the end it was all a misunderstanding and he makes it up for her or something.

Anyway if it’s inspired in any taylor swift song it would be even better! Thank you for all of your fics they’re amazing!

PS| Sorry if you can’t understand something, I’m Spanish and English isn’t my first language😞

MISUNDERSTOOD, STEVEN CONKLIN.

A/N Oh, don't worry, babe, English is not mine either. Thanks for the request. <3

PAIRING Steven Conklin x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS A little bit of angst but fluff at the end.

SUMMARY You overheard a conversation Jeremiah and Steven were having, but him asking about you earlier and made another comment lead to a misunderstanding.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | STEVEN'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

The music was pretty loud at the party Taylor and Belly had forced you to go to.

All of your small group of friends was there, so all the more reason they said 'you should go'.

But you didn't want to, you didn't like it at all.

But you decided to give them the luxury of your presence. That same afternoon Taylor helped you and Belly to choose what both would wear, the blonde said that y'all had to be the trio of hot friends.

She used the word 'hot' quite often, and sometimes you made fun of it.

"Oh shut up, you look super hot."

Anyway, you loved her just the same.

Already at the party, it had been at least an hour and your glass was empty, so you went to the drinks bar to pour some beer into it.

"So you and y/n are something?" Jeremiah asked Steven, upon hearing your name you decided to stay and listen a little longer.

"Oh yeah, we've been together for a couple of weeks."

"And what is she like? That is, in the relationship."

"I understand you." He laughed taking a swig of his beer and then looked at Jeremiah. "Super clingy..."

"Are you going to drink something?" a boy asked you while you were still at the drinks bar.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry."

When you listened to Jeremiah and Steven's conversation again, you were surprised by his words.

"Yes, it's annoying but it's not something I haven't been able to handle until now." and then they laughed.

You frowned listening to him, did he think you were annoying?

You left there as quickly as you could towards the stairs of the porch of the house.

On Steven's side, he started to worry when he didn't see you anywhere.

"Jere, I have to go, I have to take y/n home."

"Yes, of course, see ya, be careful."

"You too."

And then he started looking for you throughout the house until he left it and saw you on the porch.

"Ah, there's my girl." He stood in front of you so that he could see your face. But you didn't even look him in the eyes. "What happened?"

"Do you think I'm annoying?" you asked quietly and looked at him to hear his response.

"What? No, of course not, why do you think that?" He sat next to you and you sighed, running your hand through your hair.

"I overheard your conversation with Jeremiah, not on purpose, but I overheard you."

And then that conversation came back to Steven's mind and he relaxed at the memory.

"No, he asked me if a girl who has been in love with me since... forever, I think, wasn't annoying, even you've seen her try to flirt with me, love."

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, playing with your hands and you remember that boy interrupted you, it could have been in that small period of time where you didn't listen when Jeremiah said that.

"Come here." He murmured opening his arms, you approached him and he immediately hugged you. "I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled as he rubbed your back, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"Let's take you home." He stood up offering you one of his hands and you took it to get up. He guided you to his car and the entire way to your house he didn't let go of your hand.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[batofburnside]

"Tell Me" Part 3

Gekko x (Fem!)Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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

Hi everyone! This is the third part of my first Gekko fanfic and my first fanfic posted on tumblr. I just posted part 2 at the same time, so I'm excited and nervous to see what y'all think so far. I really enjoyed writing these. Like last parts, I used google translate for most of the Spanish that wasn’t just a few words so I apologize if anything gets lost in translation, I am not fluent. Words: 8.0K

TW: Character Death, Guns, angst, (kinda?) manipulation, Kidnapping, Blood

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

Mateo sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal while resting his head on his hand. He was exhausted. Not being able to fall back asleep, he sent you an early good morning text,  and then headed right into the training arena. Spending a few hours practicing his aim on the training bots until he couldn’t see straight anymore. After a quick shower to wake him up, he headed to the kitchen for breakfast. It was now nearly 9 AM. A few agents have come and gone while he has been in the kitchen. Sage, who is usually an early riser, entered the training arena as he was leaving, giving the young agent a nod of approval for getting some early morning training in. Mateo had tried to keep his worry and anxiety off of his face, he didn’t want to give anyone a reason to pull him off of the mission. Passing Omen and Fade in the hallway he gave a quick hello to the two. Yoru had come into the kitchen to grab breakfast as well. Mateo gave the dimension walker a nod and the older man exchanged the pleasantry before leaving.

Mateo looked up from his cereal that he was more so playing with instead of eating as Neon made her presence known, “There you are, Mateo!” She said as she made her way further into the kitchen and started to prepare her own breakfast. He looked around, making sure that no one was near to be able to hear his real name, “Lo lamento, you were looking for me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I heard you yell last night. I went to make sure you were alright, but you weren’t in your room.” She said, grabbing her food and sitting down next to him. “Reyna said she hadn’t seen you yet, either.” 

Mateo’s face flashed red with embarrassment. Neon had heard him yell out after his nightmare. He guessed it would make sense that she would be the one to hear it as their rooms shared a wall, but he wondered how loud he truly was and hoped no one else had heard anything. “Wait, what did you tell Reyna?” He said with urgency. If Reyna knew something was bothering him, she might tell Sage or Brimstone to pull him off the mission.

Neon raised a brow, confused by his sudden worry. “I just let her know I was looking for you and was going to check up on you?” 

“Maldita sea” He whispered, resting his head in his hands.

“What dude? You’re being weird. What's going on with you?” Neon said, taking a bite.

“Nothings wrong. I had a nightmare last night. Eso es todo. I can still go on the mission, everything's FINE. Bien.”

Neon swallowed, smirking, “ahhh, okay. So that’s what this is. You’re psyching yourself out!”

“Que!? No- I’m not- uh” Mateo sighed, shaking his head, “I had a nightmare about (y/n). I died on the mission and she found out that everything since I’ve been here has been lies.” 

Neon furrowed her brow, “You know Sage can bring us back? You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know, but what if she can’t.”

“Well…” Neon started, “That hasn’t happened yet. But, I bet Brimstone will handle it, and give your family something? I’m not sure.”

Mateo shook his head, “That’s the thing. Nothing Brimstone can give (y/n) will undo any of the hurt I caused. She won’t see me as a hero once she finds out the lies it cost.”

The two of them sat in silence for a minute before Mateo spoke up again, “I’ve been thinking, and I think I’m going to tell her. About us and what I’m doing.”

Neon choked on her food, “You’re going to what!? Mateo you know you can’t.”

“She won’t tell anyone, I trust (y/n).”

“You don’t understand, Mateo. Of course our Omega counterparts know who our loved ones are. There aren’t many discrepancies between who we know and are related to. And the only thing keeping them safe is their ignorance. My parents only know where I am, and even that information could put them in danger.”

Mateo bit the inside of his cheek as he thought he was at a crossroads here. He couldn’t put you in danger. But, like Neon’s parents, his mom knows. Reyna told her months before he joined the Protocol and she’s been safe. There must be exceptions. “I won’t put her in danger, but I need to do something about this.” Mateo said, standing up. “Don’t tell Reyna or anyone until I figure it out, por favor.”

Neon looked up as Mateo stood, holding a steady gaze, “I won’t tell anyone, but I sure hope you know what you’re doing.” She said.

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

It was a relatively uneventful week for you. Right now you are in the middle of mundane chores. You had just gotten home from grocery shopping for your dad and had begun to put the goods away. The only thing that made today different from the others was, to your surprise, Mateo texting you good morning around 5 AM. You were curious why he was up so early and he told you he just wanted to get an early start to his day and get into a better routine. Something you had wanted to do before but always gave up a few days in. Walking up anywhere between 8AM-10AM is usually how it went for you depending on your classes. You noticed Mateo seemed to have more time on his hands today with random “I miss you”s, “Te amo”s, and check-ins coming in more frequently than they had before. Your heart fluttered as you wondered if he was finally finalizing his schedule and not letting the college have such a strong pull on him. 

You had decided a few days ago that you wanted to try and surprise Mateo for a visit in the upcoming weekend. Since he left you had been putting away extra money from each of your paychecks in order to purchase a train ride up north. The only problem was, you couldn’t remember the name of the city that Mateo is in. Whenever you looked up the college you saw that it had campuses in both Seattle and Portland. And whenever you tried to ask him to remind you, he either wouldn’t hear you or had something else on his mind he wanted to talk about. 

After you finished putting the groceries away you leaned on the counter, grabbing your phone you dialed Mateo’s mother, waiting for her to answer as it rang.

Two rings in you heard and enthusiastic voice on the other line, “(y/n!) Que bueno saber de ti! How are you cariño?”

“Hola, Mrs. De La Fuente. Es bien, and you?” You asked.

“Oh cariño. I am doing really well. It was hard to adjust with how quiet the house has been. Don’t tell Mateo but I’m thinking of getting a cat” Mateo’s mom laughed.

You smiled, you had missed Mateo’s mom and were disappointed in yourself for not calling her sooner, “I’m sure he wouldn’t stop you.” you giggled.

“No, that’s the problema! He would bring an amigo home for it! But, una is enough for me, confía en mí” The woman laughed and then let out a small sigh. You could tell she missed her son as much, if not more than you did. “De todos modos, (y/n). Did you need something?”

“Si, Mrs. De La Fuente. I was wondering what city Mateo was in. I can’t remember if it was Portland or Seattle?” You asked.

Mateo’s mom paused, “...oh, why’s that, cariño?”

You hesitated, confused by her sudden hesitation and change in tone, “well, I um- I’ve been saving up a lot of money. And I finally have enough money to buy a train ticket and surprise him.”

Again there was a pause, “Miel, I don’t think that’s es buena idea.” She said. 

A pit opened up in your stomach, “I’m sorry, Mrs. De La Fuente, but why?”

“Mateo is mucho busy, (y/n). I just think you should wait.”

You frowned, “But it would be on the weekend? I only would have gone up there for a day.” You heard his mom inhale, another pause stagnant in the air before she spoke again, “I just… think it’s for the best, miel.” Before you could question her again she spoke up again “Oh, (y/n)! The oven is going off, that is mi Bizcocho. Tengo que ir! We can talk about this more later. Mantente segura!”

The line clicked as she hung up, the pit in your stomach resting heavy as your thoughts added onto it. The tone change in Mateo’s mom’s words sounded like worry, almost like his mom was covering for him.

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

There were less than 15 hours until the mission on Haven and Mateo was back to back with Phoenix as the two of them engaged in aim training at the training arena. So far they had been doing well, if they continued like this the duo might make it to one of the top spots on the leaderboard. 

“Watch your eyes!” Phoenix called out for a flash, as Mateo sent out Wingman to stun a few of the bots that were surrounding them.

“So.” Phoenix started as he took out two bots, “I heard you’re having girl trouble, aye?”

Mateo tensed up, switching places with the man and firing his gun at the robots, “Qué!? Who told you that?”

Phoenix chuckled, rolling as he dodged some of the bullets, “So it’s true!” he bantered.

“No es verdad! It’s false!” Mateo said, pressing up against a wall as a few bullets went buzzing by his shoulder.

“Well, Jett told me that Yoru was givin you a tough time.” Phoenix responded, smirking as he occasionally took his eyes off the robots to see Mateo’s flustered expression.

Mateo sighed slightly, he was nervous Neon had said something to someone. But,  if this was just about his encounter with Yoru then it didn’t bother him too much. “Yeah, that happened.” He said, leaving his place on the wall and taking out another bot.

“Well, don’t let him get to you mate. We’ve all been there with our relationship struggles. Oy behind you!” Phoenix said, taking out a bot that was running up to Mateo from behind.

“Thanks”, Mateo said with a small nod and smile to both the words of encouragement and for having his back during their training. Although Phoenix’s words weren’t exactly what he needed as a pick-me-up, he was still grateful for the effort put in.. Phoenix returned Mateo’s nod, “Ready to finish this?” He asked.

Smirking, Mateo responded, “Sí, amigo. You know it.”

“Alright let's go!” Phoenix said, his skin glowing a faint orange as he mowed through the rest of the bots with Mateo, thrash stunning a cluster for phoenix to take out. When no other bots came to confront the two, they gave each other a fist bump. “Now that has to be a top score, for sure!” Phoenix enthused.

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

After the aim training Mateo had taken an early dinner and gone to his room to chill for the night. He had already received a message from Jamie strategizing how they could achieve an even higher score next time. He had also received what he assumed was a sarcastic or playful message from Jett asking why he stole her aim training partner from her. Changing into some comfortable clothes, he laid down on his bed and gave you a call. Wingman snuggled up to his arm and Mateo moved a bit to get Wingman out of the frame of the video, causing the creature to mumble. “I’m sorry buddy. Not yet okay. Very soon she will meet you. Prometo. For now, if you stay down by my arm, you can sit in and listen in. Como es que, amigo?” Wingman purred and Mateo chuckled, “Alright just remember to be quiet.” Dizzy, Thrash, and Mosh also made their appearance, giving Mateo a curious look. “Alright, you three as well. But the same thing I told Wingman. Estar muy tranquila. Okay?” Dizzy and Thrash nodded. Thrash took up a spot near the end of the bed at Mateo’s feet, Dizzy laid on Mateo’s stomach, and Mosh cuddled up next to Wingman.

You answered the call to Mateo smiling and laughing, “Hola, Mi Teo. What’s got you in a good mood?” You returned his contagious smile.

“Well, the fact that I’m talking to mi amor might have something to do with it.” He smirked. 

The two of you chatted for nearly an hour uninterrupted and you both  savored that time that you had together. The longest your last video call was so far had been about 30 minutes max before Mateo got pulled away by something else. You laughed with each other when you caught him up to speed on the shenanigans your friend group was up to together. He asked about your father and your sister. You told him you were thinking of cutting your hair and he playfully begged you not to, but promised that you would look beautiful with any hairstyle you chose. He said you could even shave your head and you would be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. You laughed and told him to be careful what he says or you just might go ahead and do it, but he knew you would never. He knew how much fun you had styling your hair in different ways, it was something you had used often to express yourself.

“I wish I was there with you” Mateo said, he noticed the locket he gave you before he left around your neck, he was hanging next to your heart, but he wanted to wrap you up in his arms. A month away had felt like an eternity.

“I wish you were too.” You said, sharing his look of longing.

“Well, I find out when I’m able to leave soon. But before then I can send you a care package. I can put one of my shirts in it and some snacks from the area.” He grinned.

You smiled, “I’d like that.” Your words drew off slightly at the end of the sentence, as you thought back to your conversation with his mom. Hesitating, you wondered if you should tell Mateo, ask why she was being so weird about you wanting to visit.

Mateo noticed your hesitation and raised a brow, “what’s wrong, mi amor?” 

“Well….” You started but bit your tongue. “So I saved up money from my recent paychecks and I figured with that money I would buy a train ticket to see you. Like a surprise. But then I couldn’t remember what city you said you were in or if you ever said the city you were in. So I called your mom and asked her. I told her my plan but she didn’t think it was a good idea and she also wouldn’t tell me the city and she also wouldn’t tell me why.” Catching your breath after your ramble you waited for him to answer, your cheeks flushed red. He stared at the phone, his mouth opening like he was going to say something, but then closing. “I just felt like she was hiding something from me?” You added on.

Mateo frowned, his gaze faltering before looking back at the screen, “(y/n), I have to tell you something.” He said, in a tone you had never heard before.

Your anxiety spiked, “oh okay… you’re making me a bit nervous. What is it?” You asked.

“So I’m not in Seattle… or Portland. I’m-“ the phone went black. Mateo grumbled, pressing the power button but to no avail. “Merida! Stupid phone” he cursed. Suddenly it powered back on, the screen flashing with a familiar symbol. Mateo narrowed his eyes. He went to your contact and tried to call you back, but an error flashed up on the screen once more with that familiar symbol. He tried to text you but was met with the same fate. 

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

“Cypher!!!” Mateo yelled as he ran down the halls. He made it to the computer room where he knew Cypher was most likely to be. He flung the door open and found the room empty. He cursed again, leaving the room and heading down the hallway.

“CYPHER!” He called again, he passed by Neon who looked like she was on her way to her room.

“Woah, Gekko. What’s going on, are you alright?” She asked.

“Not right now, Tala. I’m looking for Cypher.” He said, keeping his steady pace. 

Neon followed behind him, “He’s with Reyna in the strategy room. But-“ he cut her off, “Thanks.”

“But Gekko-“ Neon tried to get his attention but he was focused on one thing.

Mateo flung open the door to the Strategy Room, seeing Cypher, Reyna, Sage, and Brimstone huddled over a holographic map of LA. Reyna’s eyes darted over to the two. “Neon! Gekko is not supposed to be in here right now” She said.

“I tried damn it!” Neon said, raising her hands up.

“I don’t care about whatever secret classified mission this is!” Gekko said, anger in his words. “I just want to know why, he child-locked my device!?” He said, pointing to Cypher.

“Cariño, cálmate.” Reyna said

“I activated the fail safe, because you were close to revealing yourself.” Cypher added in.

“What!? You were listening in on me!? Spying on me!? Esto es ridículo. ¡Esa fue una conversación privada!” Mateo exclaimed, Wingman and Dizzy appeared from his bag after Mateo's noticeable rising anger. “How would you even know to listen in?” He asked.

Cypher remained quiet, sharing a glance between the 3 older agents in the room.

Mateo turned around towards Neon, “ You told them! Didn’t you?” He accused.

Neon crossed her arms, “what!? No I didn’t.” She huffed

“Fui yo, cariño. It was me” Reyna spoke up.

An expression of hurt and betrayal flashed across Mateo’s face, as Wingman and Dizzy made a sound, similar to a faint cry but almost as if they were asking Reyna why.

“Que? Por que Reyna. Why would you have Cypher spy on me?” He asked.

Sage made her way closer to Mateo, “Reyna came to us a few days ago. We agreed that you are being pulled in two different directions. You need to have your whole mind and spirit here, Gekko. With your heart split, you can make dangerous decisions. Brimstone and I tasked Cypher on making sure you were making the right decisions. And Cypher is the one who heard you tell Neon your plan in the kitchen this morning.” 

Mateo took a step back in anger as he cursed to himself. Placing a hand over his face, he shook his head. How stupid was he for thinking that Brimstone and Sage didn’t have eyes everywhere around the protocol, watching them at all times. Or that Cypher, the man who can scrub clean any mention of them from the internet within milliseconds wouldn’t be able to listen in on his private phone calls. Wingman walked up to Mateo, placing his hands on the man’s leg in an attempt to comfort.

“Gekko, we’re here to help you if you need it. I know some things are hard to understand why we do it. But it is for the best.” Sage added.

Mateo stood idle for a second, his eyes darting from person to person in the room. His mind was clouded with hurt, anger, and frustration. The silence lingered, no one having anything else to say. Mateo picked up Wingman and turned around towards the door, pausing in the doorway before speaking to those behind him, “You know, Reyna. You could have come to me first. Actually talked to me. Nunca pensé que irías a mis espaldas. Especially you of all people.” He said as he saw his way out.

The remaining agents exchanged a few glances as the tension Mateo left still hung in the air. Reyna sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He will be okay,” she said to the group, while also reassuring herself. She was disheartened about breaking Mateo’s trust, but there were more important things at hand and she knew this was for the best, “We need to get back to our findings”.

“Yes.” Sage said, looking at the holographic map of LA that was laid out before them. “Your recon mission with Neon and Yoru revealed a big deposit of Radianite under the city, here.” She said pointing to the map.

“That’s close to Gekko’s home.” Reyna said, thinking of her friend. Not wanting to let Mateo down anymore, she needed to make sure this Radianite remained secure. “We need to make sure that a spike does not get detonated here”

“We also need to keep our eyes on Kingdom as well. They could already know about this.” Brimstone said.

Neon was looking towards the door after Mateo left, he was hurting and now he probably felt more alone than ever. Sighing, she turned around and looked towards the group, her eyes widening at the hologram as she made her way to the group. “Woah” Neon said as she walked up to the map, eyeing it in curiosity, “if a spike goes off there how many casualties will that be?”

“Too many.” Brimstone responded, his voice laced with an edge of concern and also exhaustion. 

~~~~~~~~~

“...Teo?” You asked, as his face froze on your screen before the call ended, an error signaling that the connection had dropped. You tried to call him back but was only met by his voicemail.  Resorting to a text, you sent ‘What happened, are you alright?’ only to get an immediate response saying that the message was unable to be delivered. Staring at the screen you blinked, trying to process what had just happened. You looked around through your phone to make sure that everything else was working, and found that you had a full connection to the grid. Whatever happened was on Mateo’s end. You found it odd that as soon as Mateo looked like he was going to confess something that the call dropped. And now suddenly you were unable to contact him back? Did the internet wherever he was suddenly just drop, since he did say that he wasn’t in Seattle or Portland, so where was he?

You sent Mateo a few more texts telling him to call you back if he was able or to let you know that he was okay. You debated on calling Mateo’s mom to let her know about the weird disconnection of his phone. But, with what Mateo had started to say, it had all suddenly made sense of why his mom was acting so weird on the phone. She knew he wasn’t in either of the two cities he had mentioned, she just was trying her best to avoid telling you.

The rest of the night for you drew on longer than you thought it would. You laid in bed, curled up on your covers while scrolling through various forms of media, checking every 30 minutes for a message to Mateo, while also sending one or two to test the connection. So far you had sent around 13 messages, signaling that it had been over 6 hours since your video call with Mateo. You had skipped dinner, your appetite gone and replaced with worry. Around 8:30 you had heard your dad leave for work, and around 11:30 you had heard your sister leave to go to a party. Neither of them bothered you before they left as you said you wished to be left alone. 

It was nearing 1 am and your eyes were starting to get dry and heavy with sleep. You continued to stare at your phone screen, mindlessly scrolling, not even focusing on what was in front of you as you fought the urge to sleep. The thought of Mateo messaging you back as soon as you fell asleep would be your luck, and you wanted to make sure that wouldn’t happen. You would stay up all night if you had to, even if that meant you would miss your classes.

All the struggle you put up against falling asleep seemed to be in vain as your eyes shot open to the sound of your doorbell going off throughout the house. You rubbed your eyes in a daze as you checked your phone, “What the hell? It’s 3 AM.” you grumbled to yourself, closing your eyes and throwing your pillow over your head to drown out the ringing. Whoever was at your front door seemed to be holding down the button.

After a few more seconds you yelled, throwing your blankets off of yourself as you stood up. Exiting your room, you looked across the hall to your sister’s room. The door was wide open, and through the faint light shining inside you could tell she hadn’t made it home yet. “I swear, Gwen, if you forgot your key and locked yourself out I’m going to kill you” you grumbled. Heading towards the front door.

You yawned as you looked towards the peep hole to view who was outside, but the image you saw completely woke you up. “Teo?” you whispered to yourself. It felt like your heart stopped for a second, time slowing as you reached for the door to unlock and open it. 

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

The helicopter ride to Haven was uncomfortable at most for Mateo. Luckily, he was allowed to stay on the mission. Though if it were up to him he much rather would have been anywhere else, so was it truly luck? Having Reyna leading his mission completely ruined all the excitement he had when he was first assigned a week ago. He avoided her gaze as much as he could, still feeling the hurt from her broken trust just hours before. He continued to listen in on the debrief that he had heard many times throughout the week, giving her the respect as if they were just co-workers.

It was quiet when they arrived at Haven, giving the team the indication that they had beaten their Omega counterparts to the location. Reyna gave one last debrief before she dismissed everyone to set up their sites. The layout was fairly similar to Mateo’s dream, which made him slightly nervous. The only difference was that Killjoy was to be holding garage, her turret pointing at mid while Omen helped Reyna on A.

“Mateo,” Reyna said, grabbing his attention as he went towards his site. He turned around and paused, walking back up to her. “¿qué?” He asked, showing no emotion.

She sighed, "Escúchame Gekko, I know it doesn’t seem like it. But, I am with you.”

Mateo inhaled, pondering on her words, “mis disculpas when I said that it’s hard to believe that right now.”

“I am sorry that it has felt like you have to do this alone. Nunca deberías sentirte así. Y porque lo haces, es mi fracaso como mentor.” 

“Eres una gran mentora, Reyna. I am just upset my privacy was infiltrado.” He sighed. 

“I know cariño,” Reyna said, “And I am truly sorry.”

“Gracias, Reyna.” Mateo said, his nerves starting to settle slightly. He began to leave again before he was stopped once more.

“Also, Gekko-” “Si?” He asked.

“fuerte y feroz. They will not hesitate, you must not either.” Reyna said, her voice sturn and steady as she believed if Mateo took to heart anything that she said, she needed it to be this.

“Lo sé, Reyna. I know” he nodded, taking her advice in. He gave her a slight smile before he went and made his way to his position at C.

Mateo had scoped out his site, walking down C long and looking for the angles that Harbor had mentioned would be crucial to hold and would most likely be an area that their Omega counterparts would hide in if cornered.

Holding with his Vandal, Mateo aimed down site at C long, staying alert and ready for anyone to appear. His eyes were starting to strain as he had been focused already for 15 minutes at least. “Any signs of movement anywhere?” Killjoy said over her ear piece.

“Negative” Omen responded. “Nope” Jett added in “Gekko?” Reyna questioned. Mateo was about to speak before he saw Omega Jett peak up into C long. He fired his gun but she quickly dashed back from where she had appeared from. “Jett spotted!” He held his aim ready for her to peak again only to be met by a double peak with Jett and Sova. Mateo quickly ducked back behind boxes, The Omega archer sent a tracer dart flying landing on the wall in the back of C site, marking Mateo. “Sova spotted as well, my location has been marked, requesting backup!”

“I’m on it!” Killjoy responded, peaking out C short and throwing a grenade to stop the infiltrators from pushing up any further. From behind the box, Mateo threw up Dizzy who quickly scanned the area, blinding the two enemies. Mateo peaked out from his cover, aiming his gun at the Sova who was now blind in long with nowhere to hide. With three body shots to the chest, the archer was down. Mateo tried to catch his breath, this had been his first kill that wasn’t on one of the training bots. He had to get his breathing back under control and steady himself. One was down but there were at least 4 more to go. 

‘fuerte y feroz’ he repeated to himself the words of advice that Reyna had given him.

“There’s someone A” Reyna said through the coms.

“Sending cover” Omen called out as he placed a smoke down protecting the A site from a quick entry.

“I believe the Jett has rotated,” Killjoy said. Jett spoke up, “I spotted her- uh me- In window! I’m holding.” 

Mateo heard gunfire from across the area, indicating that A site had begun to be fought over. He continued to stare down long, just to make sure they weren’t being faked, until he heard otherwise. Killjoy began to move back into garage to help Jett hold her Omega counterpart.

On A site, Omen peaked heaven with an Operator, peaking into short while the smoke still covered long. Reyna shot through the smoke, taking cover behind boxes as bullets sprayed blindly towards her. A quick flash the two had never seen before, made up of white and yellow sparkling lights, blinded them instantly. They took cover as the omega agents entered the site, forcing Omen and Reyna to fall back. “We’ve lost the site.” Omen growled into his communicator.

“Gekko, Killjoy. Begin your rotation to A, stay alert as I believe they have sent the new agent, Lux, with them.” Reyna informed the rest of the team.

Killjoy began her rotation from garage through the window and the connector to B, leaving an alarm bot behind her incase of an enemy push or rotate. Mateo gathered dizzy up from where she was idling, quietly praising her for the work she did to help him with the Sova. 

He quietly made his way to the C and B connector, where he would join up with Killjoy on B so that the two could arrive at A together. Before he could walk to B, a wall made of a white and yellow swirling energy came up, completely blocking off the entrance. This was something that Mateo had never seen before. He turned around, scanning his surroundings and saw nothing. “Be careful,” He spoke into his com, “I think the new agent put up a wall blocking off my entry on B.” “I see it too, but I don't see any other enemies. Still keep your guard up, we don't know how far their range is for their abilities.” Jett said.

Mateo stared at the wall before him, it didn’t look solid? It had a similar movement about it like Phoenix and Astra’s  walls, though contained to one area as it took up the entire entry way. He carefully reached a hand out to touch it, but hissed in pain as the energy making up the wall instantly burned his flesh with contact. 

He closed his eyes, shaking out his hand as he heard the sound of a revolver hammer locking behind him. He froze, feeling the sensation of someone watching him.

“Careful-”, They spoke. Mateo’s eyes widened, he knew that voice but there was something off.

“-Mi, amor. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.” They said, venom laced with their words.

Mateo raised his hands in the air, as he turned around and was met face to face with your Omega counterpart. His heart increased, she looked just like you only she was staring at him with an expression he had never seen from you before; Hatred mixed with amusement. “Lux?” Was all he could murmur

“Lux, (Code/Name), (Y/N), any of those work.” She sneered, holding her Sheriff out so that Mateo was staring down the barrel.

“Gekko, status update.” Killjoy was heard over the intercom.

“I-” Mateo started, but he was interrupted by your double. 

“Shhh. Let’s not give away our position, now.” She hummed as she walked towards him, circling him like a Lion does its prey. “You seem so much more fun than my Mateo,” she lulled, “Let me guess, you actually made a move on my counterpart. Lucky her. Mine couldn’t take a hint if it hit him in the face.”

Mateo’s heart was racing, he never once thought that when he looked at the enemy he would see you. The (y/n) he knew wasn’t a Radiant, or so he thought. He remembered Brimstone's talk about discrepancies. But, wouldn’t you have developed your powers by now if you were?

He remained stunned in silence as your double paced around him, keeping the sheriff aimed at his head, his eyes following her. She walked up to him, placing a kiss on his lips, while pressing the cool metal of the gun to his temple. A wave of panic shivered down his spine causing his hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

She pulled away and took a step back, “Well, I’d love to keep this conversation going, Gekko-”

“-They’ve planted the spike!” He heard Jett yell into his earpiece.

“- But it seems like we’re out of time.”

Your double pulled the trigger on the sheriff twice, sending two rounds flying directly into Mateo’s shoulder. He yelled out in pain as the bullets burned through his flesh. Falling to the ground he squeezed onto his shoulder with his unburnt hand, trying to control the bleeding. He could hear commotion over the earpiece, but all of the words were deafened by the fire he felt on his shoulder.

Wingman jumped out of Mateo’s bag, running towards your Omega counterpart and stunning her, causing her wall blocking B to fall. As soon as it did, shots from a Vandal could be heard flying over Mateo and towards your double, but it wasn’t fast enough. Before the shot could land, your double vanished into a curtain of light, teleporting out of the area of danger. 

Mateo squirmed on the ground in pain, Wingman ran up to his shoulder and pressed against Mateo’s hand, as if to try and help stop the bleeding. The two felt the ground shake below them, before an eruption of darkness shadowed them, indicating that the spike had gone off. 

Omega had won. He let out another anguished cry as a wave of fire spread from his shoulder and down through his arm. “Gekko’s down, but he’s conscious” someone next to him said over the ear piece. He hadn’t realized it but Killjoy had taken a place, kneeled beside him. She must have been the one to try and stop your double. 

The ground rumbled as Killjoy spoke, started to shift and break apart on A where the spike had gone off. “Shhh, shhh now, Gekko. It’s okay. You’re going to be just fine” the girl said, taking off one of her straps and preparing to use it as a makeshift splint to try and stabilize his arm.

Mateo squinted his eyes, trying to force back another wave of pain, “what about- the- others-“ he said through clenched teeth. “Where’s- Reyna-“ 

“She’s coming, Gekko, don’t worry. She’s alright. You’re doing good, keep that pressure.”

“The- new- agent-“ Mateo started, only to be cut off by KillJoy.

“Shh, don’t talk. Save your energy, Gekko.”

“Gekko! Mi cariño!” Reyna yelled out, kneeling next to Mateo across from Killjoy. Mateo looked upwards to see Omen making his way not far behind Reyna, in his arms was Jett, her arms laying heavy, swaying as Omen walked. Mateo’s eyes widened at the site of Jett’s unmoving form lying in Omen’s arms, her shirt drenched in blood. His adrenaline started to spike in that moment, his heart racing. He tensed up, trying to sit, grimacing as he did., “Jett- what… is- is she-“ He tried to speak, wincing with every word. 

Reyna used her hand to avert Mateo’s gaze from his fallen comrade. “Sage will help her, Ahora necesitas quedarte con nosotros, Gekko.” Reyna looked at Omen and Killjoy as bits of derbies from A could be seen floating in the distance, the cracks in the ground spreading towards B, “We need to get out of here. Now.”

The next moments for Mateo moved in stop motion. He heard Reyna and Killjoy speaking to him, but their words merged together, unable to penetrate his ear drums. He blinked and they were helping him up, his good arm over Reynas neck as she helped him stand up. He blinked again and they were helping him into the helicopter, Omen placing Jett’s body on a makeshift infirmary bed before covering her up completely with a blanket. Another blink and he felt Killjoy pressing gauze up against his shoulder, while Reyna watched on, an emotion he couldn’t read in her eyes. He heard himself cry out in pain as Killjoy cleaned his wound, but it was almost like his voice was coming from someone else. Blinking once more, he saw his arm bandaged up, Omen walking up to him with Wingman in his arms. The wraith gently placed the creature down close to Mateo, who wasted no time to run up and cuddle into the crook of his uninjured arm.

As Mateo went unconscious, Reyna made her way next to where he lie, sitting down beside him she watched his chest rise and fall. “Lo siento, Mateo.” She said, giving him a kiss on the top of his head before brushing his hair back off of his forehead. “Eres un luchador Lo superarás.” Wingman looked up at Reyna from his place tucked in Mateo’s arm. She smiled at the creature, “Lo hiciste bien pequeña. Thank you for watching after him.”

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

“Teo!?” You asked as you opened the door, a mixture of excitement and confusion in your voice, still groggy from sleep. “What are you do-” you continued, pausing as he took a step back. From behind him you saw a small pink creature begin to make its way to you. You let out the start of a scream as it jumped at you, the sonic wave it sent out from its body rendering you unable to move or speak. You winced slightly, feeling the paralyzing energy moving through your body. “mis disculpas, (y/n). Or what your Mateo calls you, ‘Mi amor’?” He smirked. 

Your eyes darted around before meeting his gaze once more, in fear. What did he mean, ‘Your Mateo?’. You had heard of the incident years ago in Venice of a dimension traveler attacking. Was this one of those instances? But if so, what did you have to do with any of this? None of this made sense, you had to still be dreaming. Working against the paralyzing energy through your body, you were able to slowly close your eyes, trying to wake yourself up. Suddenly, you began to feel a burning sensation throughout your body. A mixture of heat and energy shooting through your limbs, leaving you wondering what the creature did to you. You opened your eyes to meet ‘Mateo’’s gaze, his smirk faltering as he saw your normally (e/c) eyes, a golden yellow. He suddenly looked nervous. “Apurarse, Omen.” He said, looking behind you. Unable to see what he was looking at, your heart started racing. You felt hands on your wrist as your arms were pulled behind your back, and fastened with a ziptie. You let out a small groan of frustration as you tried to fight your way free, but your body was not listening to you. Continuing to try and struggle, you were able to let out a small “Why?” that was cut off as a piece of fabric was placed over your mouth. 'Mateo' looked at you  as he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Lo lamento, Mi amor. But, a mission is a mission.” 

A cloud of purple smoke started to surround you and your vision, you found yourself almost weightless for a second before the smoke dissipated. No longer in your house, you looked around as the paralytic was staring to wear off, 'Mateo' nowhere to be found. You didn’t get a great look at the room you were in before another strip of fabric was placed over your eyes, taking away your vision. What you could briefly see told you that the room was some kind of operating room, with various computers on the walls. The hand that had bound you reached out, somewhat gently, and led you to a chair and fastened your ankles to the legs. You yelped and tried to move from your bindings as you felt a prick of a needle on your skin. “I’m sorry.”, your captor said, as he drew your blood. The sound of his voice was haunting, but his words seemed sincere.

You moved in the chair, trying to free your hands. Although the paralyzing effect from that creature seemed to subside, you still noticed the slightly burning, almost electric feelings radiate through your mind and body as your adrenaline continued to pump. The sound of a door swinging open, accompanied by 2 sets of footsteps signified that you were no longer alone with your captor. You held your breath, as if out of instinct to try and go undetected. Never imagining you would be in a situation like this, you were feeling helpless. You weren’t a fighter, but you were smart, you needed to wait until you had resources to use and right now with your senses being taken away from you, the only thing you had to go off of is what you were able to hear.

“Let me see that sample” a woman said as she walked to the far side of the room, her voice sounded aged, and muffled almost as if it were coming through a microphone. A machine whirred up followed by sounds of typing.

The three stood in silence, as one person, you assumed it was the woman, typed.

“What did you find?” The third person spoke up. A male, their  voice older, gruff, and sturdy.  

“It’s positive. She’s radiant. A discrepancy here must have caused her abilities to not activate, which is how they must have missed her and skipped to recruiting Gekko” The woman said.

Your eyes widened behind the fabric, were they talking about you? No, you couldn’t be a Radiant. Radiants are the ones who attacked Venice, and killed thousands in the city. Radiants are the ones who took your mother away from you. You weren’t one of them. 

A new set of footsteps drew your focus back into the group. “Alright, perfect. That means we’re able to move on to phase 2 then?” The voice sent a shiver up your spine. This voice sounded like yours but it couldn’t be. The footsteps began to make their way closer to you. Feeling a pair of fingers loop onto the fabric and pull it down below your eyes, you took in your surroundings. In the room, a  woman with a short black haircut wearing a mask around her nose and mouth, a hooded figure who seemed to be glowing, and a bearded man with a muscular build looked on from the background. Though, your stomach dropped when you saw your own smirking face staring back at you. The only thing letting you know you weren't truly staring at your own reflection was the faint glow of a yellow/gold on the inner iris of her (e/c) eyes, “it’s about time I finally get to look in the mirror” she said.

Your chest rising and falling as you began to hyperventilate, “who are you?” You tried to ask, but it only came out as a mixed mumble through the fabric covering your mouth. Your double began to hyperventilate as well, mocking your mumble before laughing, “Sorry, (y/n). Just trying to get into character.” She smiled, something about it sending a chill down your spine.

She began to reach towards your neck and you tried to squirm away from her hands only to be stopped by the chair you were bound to. She unclasped the locket you were wearing. The gift Mateo had given you before he left. You tried to protest, but your movements were unsuccessful as she removed the jewelry from your neck and placed it around her own, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of it, and him.”

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

Reyna entered the infirmary, to see Sage hovering over Jett, a blue glow emitting from her palms. The outgoing girl who now lay still had begun to breathe again just hours before, but there was still more work to be done. Sage had worked on Mateo earlier, his gunshot wound being a more easy fix than the wound that took Jett. The healer had praised Killjoy and Reyna for the work they did on the field to keep Mateo’s breathing controlled, as it likely saved his life.

“How is she?” Reyna asked. She was always fond of Jett. The young agent had such an upbeat attitude about the world. Similar to Mateo.

“Better.” Sage said, a wave of exhaustion coming through her words.

“You should rest. recupera tu energía. I can watch them until you return.” Reyna looked over to Mateo’s sleeping form as well. Wingman sat at the edge of his infirmary bed, looking on with an expression of concern and worry as Sage worked on Jett.

“I will be okay, Reyna. Jett needs me right now. Besides, I have had great company.” Sage replied, looking up to smile at Wingman.

Reyna sighed, “You can help her more once you have rested. She is breathing now, I will alert you if that changes.”

Sage paused, looking up at Reyna and nodding, “Thank you.” She said, giving her a reassuring touch on her shoulder before leaving. 

Walking over to the two beds, Reyna looked at Jett a moment before pulling a blanket up over the sleeping woman’s form. These two in the infirmary were too young to be the ones injured on this mission, and even Omen had agreed. Had Reyna called a retreat earlier, perhaps Jett wouldn’t have dashed in as a last ditch effort to try and defuse the spike only to be ambushed by an Omega Cypher and an Omega Harbor.

Grabbing a chair, Reyna pulled it up next to Mateo’s bed and sat down, Wingman quickly hobbling over to her. The woman gave the creature a quick pet of affection before resting her hand on Mateo’s. She should have realized quicker that he hadn’t been heard on the communicator and wasn’t in the gunfight. She should have been more alert that something had happened to him. She had promised his mother she would protect him, and now he lay in the infirmary after his first mission that she had led. “lo siento, no estaba allí, Mateo”

With her free hand, Reyna continued to pet Wingman, who had quickly fallen asleep under her touch. Lost in her thoughts, Reyna continued to listen to the rhythmic beeping of the machines that both Jett and Mateo were hooked up to. Eventually, Wingman began to stir slightly as he woke up, and as if on queue Mateo began to move as well, mumbling as he fought for consciousness, “…(y/n)” he groaned.

Reyna perked up, “Mateo, it’s okay, mi cariño”, She said in a soft voice, trying to calm her protege.

“(Y/n)….” He repeated.

“ella no está aquí, but you can contact her later”

Mateo opened his eyes and quickly sat up, as if waking up from a nightmare. He winced as he grabbed his shoulder, now alert he looked at Reyna, doing his best to ignore the waves of pain shooting through him.”

“No, Reyna... it’s (y/n). Lux is (y/n).” He said.

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 9.5k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!

a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x

You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it���s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.

It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.

Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.

“Hello?”

“Posey, you answered! Hi!”

“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.

“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”

Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.

“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”

“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.

“Hey, Mari.”

The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.

“Hi, Joel.”

“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”

“You’re welcome,”  your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.

Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.

“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”

Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.

“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.

“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“

Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”

“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”

You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose. 

“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”

“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”

“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.

“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”

“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“

“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears. 

“Thank you, Joel.”

“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”

That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.

After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.  

You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.

You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.

Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.

Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.

This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.

Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.

Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?

He heard it and zoned out immediately.

You? You were moving home?

He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?

The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.

“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”

He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.

Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.

At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.

Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.

You’re coming home.

The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.

It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”

Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”

“Wait, Joel did this?”

“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.

“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.

A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.

A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.

Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.

You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.

Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you. 

But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.

Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.

This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help. 

On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.

As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer. 

“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”

On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.

“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.

“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”

“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.

“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.

“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.

“Joel, don’t you dare…”

“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”

“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”

In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.

“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”

All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.

Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.

“May I propose a treaty?”

“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”

He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.

“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”

“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”

Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”

You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.

He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”

“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.

Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.

You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.

“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.

You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.

Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”

“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”

Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.

“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”

Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”

You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.

“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”

A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.

“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.

“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard. 

At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.

“Back door? This a new thing now?”

“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”

A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.

“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.

“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”

“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”

“I remember.”

“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”

Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.

“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”

You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.

“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”

You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.

“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.

You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.

“Did something happen?”

“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I have full custody of Sarah now.”

He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.

“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”

“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.

“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”

He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”

“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”

In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.

Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.

“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”

At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.

“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.

“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”

“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”

“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“

“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.

“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”

“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.

“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”

“God, you’re such an idiot…”

“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”

“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.

“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.

“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”

“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”

A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.

“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“

“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”

As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.

Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.

“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.

“What d’you have in mind?”

“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”

You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.

“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”

“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.” 

He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”

“What does that all mean?”

“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face. 

Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.

“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth. 

“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.

“I want to, I really want to.”

His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.

“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”

You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.

“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”

His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.

“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”

“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.

“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”

“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.

“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.

With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”

His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.

“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.

“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”

“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.

“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?” 

Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.

“Night, Mari.”

“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”

The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.

“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”

Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”

“HomeGoods.”

“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”

Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.

“Posey, come sit with me!”

With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.

“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.

“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”

You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.

“Never lose your honesty, mija.”

Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.

“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”

“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.

“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.

“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.

Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”

Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”

Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.

When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.

“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”

“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.

“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.

“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”

Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.

If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.

“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”

“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.

“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.

“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.

“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”

Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.

“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.

“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.

“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”

“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”

“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.

“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”

“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.

It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.

The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.

“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”

Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.

“You choose for me.”

“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”

“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.

“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.

“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.

“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.

“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”

Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”

“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”

“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”

“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.” 

“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”

Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @beee-haw @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @jupitren @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @livingdeadmaria @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost

[amazingmsme]

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Spider Scorned

AN: Took me long enough, but I finally finished my spiderverse fic! I had such a blast with this one, I hope y'all enjoy! Miles has some serious beef with Miguel & they just need to spend some quality time together!

After defeating The Spot, things started to settle down. The multiverse was ultimately safe, for now at least. And things were actually going pretty well for Miles Morales. After they won, Miguel officially welcomed him into the Spider Society, even giving a tense, begrudging apology. It wasn't much, but it was a start. But now, he was able to see his friends on a semi-regular basis and even picked up a few new tricks of the trade. He buckled down on his classes and managed to pull out an A in Spanish by the end of the year. After months of waiting, he received an acceptance letter in the mail. Of course, his parents threw a huge party to celebrate, bragging to their friends about how smart their son was. As much as it could embarrass him at times, he couldn't be happier that they were so proud of him.

Naturally, there were a few hiccups along the way. The biggest being when he was home alone after a patrol, standing in the kitchen eating straight out of a box of cereal, still in his suit. It was the middle of the afternoon, both of his parents working. He had his headphones on and didn't notice the front door open, and suddenly his father was standing right in front of him, mouth agape as he stared him up and down. It took a long lecture and lots of explaining and apologies on Miles's part, but they understood why he was doing this, and more importantly, why he kept it a secret. His dad even revoked his grounding after he heard the truth!

To top it all off, he was getting called on for missions more frequently, and he found himself spending more time at HQ. He felt needed and accepted among the other spiders, which is more than he could've hoped for. Honestly, Miles doesn't think he's ever been happier. Things were going great for him.

So why the hell was he being so petty to Miguel? Everything worked out fine in the end, yet it still seemed the teen harbored a strong grudge towards him.

Peter B. Parker liked to think of himself as an excellent observer. He also liked to think that he knew the kid pretty well. It seemed like every time Miguel so much as entered the room, his expression went south. He'd go quiet, shrinking in on himself, shooting glares at the man. If the man addressed him, his responses were short and full of sass, if he didn't outright ignore him.

Peter knew where the kid was coming from. Hell, Miguel's scared the crap out of him more than a few times, and the things he said to Miles was out of line. But he apologized for that! It should be water under the bridge, or so Peter thought. It hurt him because he knew Miguel was a good guy, you just had to get to know him. And it seemed that was the last thing Miles wanted to do.

Pavitr, Miles, Gwen and Hobie were sitting around a table playing go fish when Peter and Miguel walked in. Pavitr had pulled out his phone and leaned over to show Miles a video of some guy trying boba for the first time and choking. Right at the funniest part, he glanced up and caught sight of Miguel, the laugh trailing off and smile falling flat. Pavitr was too busy laughing to notice, but stopped when he realized Miles wasn't laughing along.

"Well I thought it was funny," he said quietly, tucking his phone away. Miles snapped out of it and was quick to assure him, "No, it was really funny! Show me again when we're not playing the game."

Miguel snorted as he poured himself some coffee.

Miles furrowed his brows, "What?"

"Oh nothing. Nothing at all," he said as he walked past. Miles rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

"Can you two at least try to get along?" Peter groaned. Miles shrugged.

"Cool with me. Truce?" Miles held out his hand for him to shake. Miguel stared at him skeptically before walking back over him. His form loomed over Miles where he sat at the table and reached for his extended hand.

At the last second, Miles pulled back, running his hand through his hair. "Sike."

Miguel took a deep breath, visibly holding himself back from lunging at the kid while the others at the table snickered to themselves, Hobie looking the most amused. He turned on his heels, muttering angrily under his breath.

"Work with me here," Peter said exasperatedly, to which Miles gave a smug, satisfied grin. Peter rolled his eyes, following after Miguel.

"Gwen, got any two's?"

"Go fish." She bit her bottom lip as Miles drew a card from the deck, and spoke up. "You know, he's really not a bad guy. Wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer."

"Yeah, well maybe you should tell him that," he sassed.

"She's right y'know," Hobie said. "No one loves stickin' it to the man more than yours truly, but even I know when to give it a rest." He laid down his cards, leveling his gaze at Miles. "He's a prick, but he's damn good. Who knows, you might have more in common than you think," he teased, playfully smacking Miles in the arm before pulling him in a headlock, messing up his hair.

"Alright alright, I get it," he said, shoving him away with a shy smile.

"So you'll be nicer to him?" Gwen asked hopefully.

"I guess, sure."

Turns out, it was a half assed effort. He really did try to be nicer when he was around, but it was obvious he was still afraid of the man, clamming up as soon as he laid eyes on him. And he just happened to be busy every time he was called to go on a mission with him. He was on a mission with Peter when they had to call in backup, and he nearly ran into a billboard when he saw who came to their aid.

Miguel wasn't stupid- he knew the kid didn't like him. But hey, he didn't care about him all that much either. But it made him feel shitty, serving as a grim reminder of what he'd done to him. Peter lessened the tension between them, but Miguel could still sense the lingering fear that enveloped Miles every time he was in his presence, could hear the rapid thumping of his heart any time he drew near. And the way he watched his every move: as if he'd snap at a moment's notice, was more than annoying to say the least.

Miguel had called upon Peter for his input and Miles naturally tagged along. He wasn't exactly subtle with the way he looked him up and down as he spoke, watching with a judging eye. Peter kept cracking jokes to try to lessen the tension, frowning when neither one had so much as chuckled by the fifth attempt. He looked up from the screen and gently smacked Miles in the side.

"What's the matter kid? Don't tell me you're too cool to laugh at my dad jokes."

"Nah, it's just 'cause I'm here. I apparently sap out all his joy when I enter the room," Miguel snapped, not afraid to call it how he saw it.

"W-what? That's not true!" Miles insisted, completely shocked by the abrupt nature of his statement. Peter locked up, unsure of how this would play out.

"Yeah, then what is it? You hate me that much or somethin'?"

Miles thought about his answer before he spoke. A rare occasion, I know. "No, I just... think you're meaner than you have to be... sometimes..." he trailed off, getting quieter as he spoke. He refused to meet his gaze and subconsciously scooted closer to Peter, who watched the exchange and sighed.

"Kid, he's not mean, you're just falling for his schtick."

"Hey!" Miguel interjected but Peter shushed him.

"Miguel's got pretty thick skin, you just gotta get used to him. Once you do, you'll realize he's just a big ol' softie. Like me!"

"I am nothing like you," he deadpanned.

"That's one thing we agree on," Miles scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Are you always such a smart ass?" Miguel asked, hands on his hips.

"Easy, he's just a kid!" Peter said, turning around in the computer chair.

"No, he's a cocky high schooler. You're what, a freshman?"

"Just finished sophomore year actually," Miles corrected.

"Probably took pre-cal," Miguel scoffed.

"Nah, I took that last year," he bragged, a cocky smirk on his face, though his eyes held a look of fear that he couldn't shake. There was a tense moment of silence as they stared at one another.

Miles caught a glimpse of Pavitr walk by the doorway and instantly saw his way out of the situation.

"Pav, hey wait up!" he called and ran out of the room to catch up.

"Miles! How's it goin' dude?" Pavitr's voice rang out and their distant conversation echoed down the hall.

Peter groaned as he stood up and stretched. "Why'd you have to go and start shit?" he asked with a tired look.

"I didn't start it!"

"No, you literally started it!"

Miguel sighed. "You heard him, he thinks I'm mean."

"Then show him you're not," Peter insisted, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. Miguel shrugged him off.

"I don't know if he'd let me at this point," Miguel quipped, leaning against the desk.

Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself short. Miguel furrowed his brows and straightened his posture. "What?"

"Nothing, I just had a stupid idea. You'd probably hate it, forget I said anything," Peter said, setting the bait.

Miguel let out another sigh. "What is it?"

Peter hesitated, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. He hoped Miles would forgive him...

"The kid's crazy ticklish, that's all I'm gonna say," he said, holding his hands up in the air.

"What? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Just show him you know how to cut loose. Let him see you without that stick up your ass," Peter snickered. Miguel shot him an unamused look, reaching out to squeeze his hip in retaliation.

Peter yelped and jumped away, wearing a large grin. He threw an arm around his shoulders and gave him a shake. "That's the spirit! Now go show the kid how fun tickle monster O'Hara can be!" he cheered in encouragement, drawing out

a scoff of disgust from the other man.

"Don't call me that," he demanded, earning a chuckle. He glanced at Peter from the corner of his eye and broke into a smirk. "You're real weird, you know that Parker?"

"Yeah yeah, I get that a lot. But trust me, it'll work," he reassured. Miguel was hesitant.

"How do you know?"

"Just trust me."

Miguel waited until he saw an opportunity, and it didn't take long before one presented itself. Miles was sitting in a beanbag in the corner of an otherwise empty rec room when he waltzed in. "Miles, just the spider I wanted to see," he greeted, sitting on the beanbag next to him. Miles stared at him like he had grown a second head.

"Uh, hi. Wha- what did you wanna talk about?" he stuttered, struggling to sit up straight in the beanbag.

"Peter thinks it'd be a good idea if you got to know me. And I have to agree, so I thought we could play twenty questions. Go ahead, ask anything you want." Miles pondered for a moment before thinking of a question.

"So your fangs... could you like, milk the venom like they do with snakes?" he asked, curiosity and excitement in his tone. Needless to say, the question caught the older man off guard.

"What? No! You can't even milk snakes!"

"Can too! I saw a video where they got venom from a rattlesnake like that! You put gauze or cheese cloth or something over a cup and make them bite it, and they shoot out all this venom," he explained. Miguel considered this for a moment.

"Hm, interesting. I didn't know that." He shifted in the soft chair, getting more comfortable. "I guess it's a possibility. Alright, my turn. What's your favorite food?"

They went back and forth asking questions, and Miguel noticed the way Miles relaxed as the conversation wandered.

"Did you get to do a senior prank when you were in high school?" Miles asked, leaning a bit closer in anticipation for his answer. A mischievous gleam sparkled in Miguel's eyes as a long forgotten memory resurfaced.

"Yeah actually. Oho man, it was a great one. A few of us covered the entire floor in shaving cream. I'm talking classrooms, halls, the cafeteria, bathrooms, even the gym. We broke in during the night so we'd have enough time to do the whole school." He shook his head and chuckled. "Everyone was slipping and sliding all over the place. It took us hours to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it." He couldn't deny the swell of pride he felt when he heard Miles let out a quick huff of laughter.

"That sounds like a good one! I wish I could do something like that."

"Why can't you? Just gotta wait two more years, plenty of time to come up with a good prank."

"No, it's not that. My new school doesn't allow senior pranks and stuff like that," he explained, disappointment etched on his features. "It's... pretty pretentious."

"Hm, that's a real bummer. Maybe you'll have to fix that," Miguel suggested with a playful punch to his shoulder.

"Maybe," he agreed, ideas already bouncing around his head. "Your turn."

"Man, 20 questions is a lot more than I thought," Miguel feigned cluelessness and innocence, as if he didn't have this question lined up from the start. "I got one. Are you ticklish?" he asked casually. It was comical the way Miles snapped his head up to look at him with wide eyes.

"What? No," he said quickly, defensively. He was about to ask the next question to change the subject but was cut off.

"See, now that's funny. That's not what Peter said," he drawled, flashing a smug grin. Miles felt a chill run down his spine. He knew this was fishy from the start, but had ignored his gut feeling. A rookie mistake.

"Heh, good thing you're too mature for that sort of thing, right?" he asked nervously, watching him like a hawk.

"Y'know, I'm not so sure. What do you think?" Miguel asked, a dangerously playful edge to his voice. Miles gulped.

"Was this whole thing just a set up?" he asked, his entire body tense. He was ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Miguel shrugged. "If that's what you wanna call it, sure."

It only took a second before Miles shot up to make a break for it. Strong arms immediately wrapped around his waist and brought him back down, right into Miguel's lap. He was thrashing and already giggling, yet still managed to grab ahold of Miguel's wrists to keep him at bay.

"Must be pretty ticklish if you're already laughing," he teased, twisting his hands free. He grabbed both of Miles's wrists and raised them over his head.

"Ihihi'm not! Let mehe gohoho!" Miles protested, trying to roll onto the floor.

"Nah. Gotta say, you've made me real curious now. Well, guess I better not keep you waiting!" He wasted no more time and latched onto his side, squeezing and kneading softly. Miles was already lost to a bout of bubbly giggles as he curled in on himself.

"Why ahahare you dohohoing this toho meee?" he squealed, legs scrambling for purchase and finding none.

"To show you I can be fun," he said, as if that should be obvious. "And you really don't know me if you think I'd let this information go to waste."

"Thihihis is fuhuhun?" he asked, sounding incredulous even through his laughter. Miguel couldn't help but smirk.

"See? Glad you agree," he said smugly. Miles let out an annoyed, giggly groan.

"Not whahat Ihihi meant!"

"Really? You gotta choose your words more carefully. Someone could take your words outta context and do this," he emphasized his point by squeezing his hips, causing Miles to jolt in his lap as if he had been electrocuted. "Y'know, since you said you were having fun an' all."

Miles was sure he was going to die. Whether it would be from the tickling or embarrassment, he wasn't sure, but he was going to die.

"Ohoho my gohohod, shut up ahahasshole!"

Miguel froze, hands poised at his sides and ready to strike. "What did you just call me?" Miles breathed in a few gulps of air while he still had the chance. He shook his head, eyes wide with a mix of panic and excitement.

"Nonono I didn't mean that, it just slipped out!" he insisted, but Miguel wasn't having it.

"What did I just say about choosing your words wisely?" he asked. Miles attempted another escape instead of answering, and was caught just as easily as before. "Well if you can call me names, clearly I'm not working hard enough."

He dove for his belly, pulling back at the last second, but Miles still screamed anyways. He felt a warm flush rise to his cheeks, glaring at the man as he laughed. He glared at him and shoved his chest.

"You are being an asshole!" he whined, grabbing his wrists and pushing with all his might to keep them away from his belly.

"And you're really asking for it," Miguel deadpanned, slipping out of his grasp with ease. And just because he felt like messing with the kid a little more, he did another fake out, earning another shriek of anticipation, followed by an embarrassed pout as Miguel let out a hearty chuckle.

"What the hell man? Just get it over with if you're gonna do it!"

"A little eager, eh amigo?" he asked, drumming his fingers against his sides. Bubbly giggles filled the air as Miles folded in on himself like a lawn chair, shaking his head frantically.

"N-no!" Miles denied, twisting from side to side and trying to work his way out of Miguel's strong grasp. He kneaded his sides, immediately thwarting the halfhearted escape. A stream of loud squeals and cackles escaped Miles as he squirmed around like a worm on a hook before curling into a ball in his lap.

He snorted when Miguel reached down to squeeze his knee, kicking his legs out. This granted him free access to his belly, which he took full advantage of. He formed a claw with his hand and dug into the soft pudge around his midsection and giggly shrieks filled the air.

"Wow, you're ticklish just about everywhere," he mused, smirking when Miles whined through his laughter.

"Ihihi ahaham not!" he cried out, legs kicking against the floor. Miguel arched a brow, clearly amused at the reply.

"No? Try proving me wrong then," he teased, pinching up his ribs. Miles arched his back, boyish giggles pouring past his lips.

"Screhehehew you!" he cried through his hysterics.

"Well that's not very nice. And here I thought we were finally bonding," Miguel said in a deadpanned tone, though the sly smirk gave him away.

Without anywhere to turn, Miles yelled out for help. "PEHEHETEHEHER! HELP MEHEHE! I-I'M BEING TORTURED!" he cried out dramatically. Miguel shook his head, an evil chuckle slipping past his lips.

"You know he's not gonna help you, right? I mean, this was all his idea. Practically made me do this," he taunted.

Well that was news to Miles.

"HE WHAT?" he shrieked before falling back into a wild fit of laughter.

"Yup. He sold you out faster than you could say tickle tickle tickle!" he teased, digging his claws into his ribs and shaking them against his ribcage. Miles doubled over with a screech, laughing as he kicked his legs in the air. He reached up to hide behind his hands so he wouldn't have to look at Miguel's stupid, smug face.

Miguel shook his head and grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his face. "Oh no, no puedes esconderte de mí," Miguel teased. Miles thrashed, growing even more flustered by the playful taunt.

"Oh cohome ohohon!" Miles whined, tugging on his arms.

"Everyone keeps talking about these "bleeding armpits" of yours. Let's see what that's all about, huh?"

"No!" he screamed out, but it was too late because Miguel was already tickling under his arms. Miles slammed his arms down to his sides, trapping his tickling hands in place. He was cackling hysterically, blushing when a few snorts managed to slip out.

"Gehehet out of thehehere!" he pleaded, nose scrunched and mouth open in a wide grin. Miguel hummed in thought, drilling his thumbs in the center of his hollows.

"Mmmm no, I don't think I will," he teased smugly. He was about to comment on how the suit markings are practically a bullseye for what seemed to be his worst spot when a sharp elbow cracked him in the face.

He reeled back, hand clutching his now sore, and apparently bleeding, mouth. Miles rolled off his lap and sprawled on the floor, panting for breath before he noticed Miguel's busted lip.

"O-oh my gosh, did I do that? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" Miles rambled out an apology, cutting off when Miguel held up a hand to silence him.

"It's fine, it was an accident. Besides, this is nothing," he said smirking and gestured to his bloodied bottom lip. "Honestly it surprised me more than anything," he reassured, not wanting Miles to feel guilty over something so small.

"Still, I didn't mean to hit you in the face," he apologized, paused for a second and seemingly grew a bout of confidence, puffing out his chest. "B-but you were asking for it! Seriously, that's what you get for tickling Spider-Man!"

The retort made Miguel bark out a laugh, ruffling the kid's hair playfully. Miles rolled his eyes and shoved him away, but the smile never left his lips.

"Yeah yeah, it's all my fault. Now run along, go tell your friends how you managed to survive tickle monster O'Hara," he teased. Miles cringed at the nickname and let out a long, suffering groan.

"Don't call yourself that," he said, equal parts whiny and sassy. It only took a stern look from Miguel to have Miles running out of the room. Miguel chuckled to himself, pulling out his phone to take a selfie of his busted lip.

Peter had just sat down in the cafeteria about to chow down on a slice of pizza when he felt his phone buzz. He looked at the screen, noticing a new text from Miguel.

He opened the message, huffing out a laugh when he saw the picture of Miguel's busted lip with the caption, Mission Accomplished.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket, taking a large bite. He wasn't even done chewing when he heard fast paced footsteps skid to a halt behind him.

"You sold me out! What the hell man?"

Yeah... Mission accomplished.

[seeeuspaceecowboyyy]

Only Human

Miguel O'Hara x Female Y/N reader (emotional hurt/comfort fic) Wordcount: 2.6k Warnings: brief mentions of blood, loved ones dying, nightmares, crying. Also, Y/N speaks Spanish. Notes: Y'all I need my hurt/comfort Miguel fics so bad that I finally wrote one myself. This might turn into a two-part story? Starts out platonic but that could change if I end up writing more?? Lmk what you think.

Miguel startled awake when his head hit the floor with a thud. Raw panic was clawing through his chest. He scrambled to sit up, confused and disoriented. Where am I? 

He stared at the walls of the hotel living room, struggling to put the pieces together. Slowly memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. He was on Earth 267. He was in the middle of conducting a covert recon mission with you, Y/N, to gather intel on an inter-dimensional crime syndicate that was buying, selling, and experimenting on various anomalies. 

The two of you were staying the night in a hotel because there had been a malfunction with your watches. For some reason that neither of you could figure out, the watches had lost all contact with other dimensions once you came to Earth 267. You were unable to open up a portal or even talk to Lyla. The only good thing about this whole situation was that you and Miguel were still able to talk with each other through the watches and so far neither of you had started glitching. 

Miguel had insisted you take the bedroom despite your protests. You’d argued that he should let you take the couch because of how much bigger he was than you, but he wouldn’t hear it. He’d said he really didn’t mind and wanted you to feel comfortable, but he’d also insisted on this sleeping arrangement for another reason - the nightmares. 

Miguel let himself fall back against the sofa with a shaky sigh. There were no explosions, no threats, no one was dying. And yet the images of his teammates collapsed on the floor, pale and bleeding would not leave his mind. 

It wasn’t real, he tried to tell himself. Just a nightmare. Everyone is okay. 

But what if…? The horrible question flashed before his mind, ugly and unwelcome. What if something happened to any of you while out on a mission that he had assigned you? What if you got hurt during your mission tomorrow and he wasn’t fast enough to save you? What if Peter really did get caught in an explosion one day? What if Miles or Gwen or Pavitir or any of the other younger spiders got crushed under a falling building? What if - and the list went on. 

So many things could go wrong in an instant and there was nothing Miguel could do about it. He knew there would always be risks in this line of work, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was to blame if anything ever happened to his teammates. 

The disturbing image of you and your crumpled, lifeless body flashed through his mind again and he recoiled. 

Your fault. All your fault, the voice in his head whispered. 

“No” he mumbled, shaking his head, eyes screwed shut as he tried to banish the thought from his mind. 

You failed again. You should’ve been faster. You should have seen it coming. You should have known. It was your fault. 

Miguel stood up. Waves of anxious guilt were spreading through him like a tsunami. He walked to the bathroom, desperate for a distraction. As he turned on the faucet to wash his face, he sensed subtle movements behind him in the dark. Miguel whipped around, claws shooting outwards before he even had time to think. 

“Oh”, he breathed, coming to a screeching halt. 

You were stuck to the ceiling, having barely leaped out of the way in time to avoid Miguel’s razor-like claws. Your long hair hung downwards from your face as you cocked your head to the side, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Sorry”, you whispered. “I thought I heard a noise and came to check if everything was alright”. 

Miguel lowered his arms, claws retracting. Embarrassment burned in his cheeks. 

“No, I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to attack you like that. I was just having a hard time sleeping is all. You can go back to bed”. 

You landed lightly on your feet, still watching him. You were wearing a light camisole and cozy pajama pants. You rubbed your eyes. 

“Why were you having trouble sleeping?” you asked, yawning while stretching. “Are you not feeling good?”

“It’s nothing” he muttered, feeling even more self conscious by the concerned look on your face. Great now I’ve gone and scared her, he thought. “I’m fine. Just a bad dream, that’s all”. 

You stood there still staring at him with searching eyes. What on earth is she thinking? he wondered. Does she think I’m a psycho for lashing out at her like that? Great. The awkwardness of the situation was getting to be too much for him. 

“I’m really sorry I woke you Y/N. You don’t have to worry about me. Please, go back to sleep” he said, voice sounding a little gruffer than he meant it to be. “You’ve had a long day”. 

He waited for you to go back to your room. You didn’t move. 

Maybe it was because you were still kind of out of it with sleepiness, or maybe it was just the look on his face that made you do it. Instead, without really thinking about it, you took him by the hand and led him to the living room. 

“What are you-“

“Shh”, you replied, guiding him over to the couch and gesturing for him to sit. He looked down at you, hesitant. 

“Miguel”, you sighed, giving him a slightly exasperated look. “Sientete”. 

He did. 

You smiled gently and then turned to the kitchen. It was a small one - just a stretch of countertop with a stove, microwave, and a few cabinets above. “I’ll be right back”, you told him as you headed towards your room to grab your bag. When you returned, Miguel saw you were holding a small box of teabags. 

“My mom always made tea for me as a kid whenever I had nightmares”, you explained in response to his raised eyebrows. “It always helped calm my nerves”. 

You set about your task of heating the water, feeling his eyes on your back all the while. For some reason it made the hairs on the back of your neck tingle, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

While waiting for the water to heat up, you came back to sit with Miguel who was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. It was the first time that you really noticed what he was wearing - a black T-shirt and some faded, navy blue sweatpants. It was so different from how you usually saw him in his sharp, bright colored, holographic suit. He seemed less formidable - softer somehow, though you knew that was far from the case. 

“What’s going on Miguel?” you started tentatively, watching him as he gazed at the floor. You noticed his fists clawing into the fabric of his pants. “You seem a bit off”. 

Miguel wouldn’t look at you. Couldn’t look at you. What would he even say? Hey Y/N I know we’ve never really talked much and I’m supposed to be your boss, but I’m terrified that one day you’ll die and it will have been my fault and every night I have nightmares about my friends dying.

He internally rolled his eyes at himself. Shock, why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just pull himself together? He was supposed to be the leader, the one who always knew what to do, the guy everyone could count on to get the job done. He wanted to be someone you could always depend on, but here he was waking you up in the middle of the night and having you try to comfort him from a stupid nightmare. 

Miguel chuckled humorously at the whole situation. You glanced curiously at him. 

“What?” your eyes narrowed. “What are you laughing about?”  

“Nothing”, he lied. “I was just thinking how this is the first time anyone’s ever made me tea”. 

“Really?” This is stunning to you. “In my universe that’s all anyone ever does when something happens. You buy a house? We make tea. You win the lottery? We make tea. You lose your car keys? We make tea. You have a bad dream?-“ You look pointedly at Miguel before continuing. “We make tea”.  

He smiles a little at your rather obvious attempt to bring the conversation back to his nightmare. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk about it, it’s just… he’d never talked about his dreams with anyone before, not even Peter. Ever since the tragedy with Gabriella had happened, he’d noticed everyone trying to give him space. No one would approach him about it because they didn’t know what to say, and honestly … he didn’t know what he wanted them to say either.

But here you were, so much care and concern in your eyes, your tone, and your gestures. You radiated comfort and he craved it. It was hard to resist. The walls Miguel constantly surrounded himself with felt weak. Maybe he could be open with you, just a little bit. 

“Hold on, let me grab your tea”. You hopped off the couch and brought out two mugs. When you returned you handed one to him and settled into your corner of the couch, sipping and waiting patiently for Miguel to start. 

“Ha, thank you”, he said, staring at the white mug that looked ridiculously tiny in his massive hands. Warmth seeped into his palms and he unconsciously began to settle a little as well. He rocked back, leaning into the sofa. Okay, he thought. He would try to open up. 

“You know”, he sighed, “there used to be a time when I thought I was invincible. Anything I wanted to do, I could do it. I was smart, I was strong, and I had everything I needed”. He took a sip, trying to formulate his next words. 

“But I was selfish and I got …. greedy you could say. I’m sure you’ve heard from the others about the ah…’incident’ I had a while back”, he said, glancing at you. You nodded silently. No one ever talked about it in Miguel’s presence, but you’d heard the rumors. A dimension crumbling into oblivion. The loss of a beloved daughter. 

Miguel swallowed hard, feeling an uncomfortable lump in his throat. “Ever since then”, he grunted, trying to clear his throat, “I’ve been….so……” His voice broke off. He turned away, surprised by the tears suddenly forming in his eyes. Shock I’m a mess, he thought. 

You leaned forward, scooting a little closer to him, sensing his discomfort but unsure of how to help. 

“So what?” you whispered softly. Tenderly. 

He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. Something was cracking inside him. Not the time to fall apart, he told himself. He could feel you next to him, hovering hesitantly by his side. He needed to be strong, for you at least if not for himself. But shock he could not get the words out. 

“Miguel”. You reached over to move his mug out of the way and then took his hand in your own. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. It’s okay, honestly”. You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “But I’m here for you okay? We all have our struggles. You’re not anymore messed up than I am”. 

His mouth was set in a hard line, jaw clenched in agony as he tried to keep the waves of grief at bay. 

“I know it’s hard”, you continued gently, “but the best way to get through it is to share it with others. Let other people help you carry the burden. No one’s meant to go through these kinds of things alone”. 

Miguel nodded briefly. You squeezed his hand again and this time he returned it. Tears blurred in his eyes and streamed down his face. He couldn’t stop it. The lump in his throat was choking him, forcing him to take a breath. When he let himself breathe the sobs finally came out. First one, then another, and then what felt like a million more. 

“Oh”, you breathed, heart breaking at the sight. Instinct took over any previous reservations or awkwardness you’d felt before and you did the only thing that felt right - you got up, wrapped your arms around his big shoulders and held on tightly. He was hurting so badly. You could feel his shoulders shake with grief as he strained to quiet his sobs, putting a hand over his mouth. You just rubbed his shoulders and back, trying to soothe him as much as possible. 

“It’s okay”, you repeated over and over again. “Todo esta bien”. 

You kept holding onto him, squeezing his shoulders every so often as an offer of comfort while he fought to regain control of himself. After a while, he rubbed his eyes with exhaustion as his breathing began to relax. He could finally catch his breath again. 

“Ugh”, he groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Wow, that was ….” He didn’t even know what to say. Pathetic? Pitiful? Mortifying? Although he had to admit he did feel better. Lighter somehow. The chokehold weight that had gripped him for months on end was gone. 

“Human”, you answered. He looked up at you, speechless. What?

“It was human, Miguel”, you repeated. “You may be Spiderman, but you’re still human and it’s human to feel pain. To grieve”. You spoke like you knew it for yourself and you did. You’d lost your own loved ones. You’d grappled with fear of the future and regrets of the past. The only way you’d been able to keep moving forward was by sharing your burdens with others. 

“In my dream”, Miguel started, “I lost everyone I cared about. My family, my friends, my teammates, you…” He closed his eyes in anguish. “I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t… enough. It nearly killed me to see everyone like that, just completely….gone”. He took a big breath. “I felt so alone”. 

You squeezed his hand again and he squeezed back, hoping you could feel how much he appreciated your comfort. 

“I’m so sorry Miguel”, you whispered sympathetically. “That must have been so hard to experience all that. But just know that I’m here. I’m right here and I’ll be here as long as you need me. I know it’s hard not to worry about but it doesn’t get us anywhere right? The only thing we can do is try to live as best we can right now. Okay? Me oyes?”

Miguel nodded, the smallest hint of a smile forming in the corners of his lips. It reminded him of his mother when you talked like that. 

“Do you want to sleep in the same room tonight? We could bring the mattress out here or…” you looked questioningly at him, rubbing your eyes as a spell of sleepiness started to settle over you. Now this made him smile, albeit a shy one. 

“Sure…if you honestly don’t mind”, he said, feeling a bit better about the night. It would be nice to not have to sleep alone with his thoughts for once. 

“Of course not”, you yawned, getting up to go grab it. Together you were able to maneuver the mattress into the middle of the living room floor. “Sure you don’t wanna switch?” you asked with another yawn once everything had been arranged. 

“I’m sure”, Miguel chuckled as he watched you practically collapse onto the mattress with exhaustion. “Sleep well Y/N…. and thank you. For everything”. 

“Ya sabes”, you mumbled, already sinking comfortably into your pillow. Miguel waited until he could hear the rhythmic sound of your sleeping breaths before he lay himself down on the couch. 

With the new, light feeling in his chest and the steady lull of your breathing just a few feet away, Miguel let his eyes close and slipped into a peaceful slumber.

[thetriumphantpanda]

Cruel Summer | Javier Peña (Chapter Five)

Series Summary | Javier Peña is back in Laredo, this time for good. He hadn’t banked on you still being there, especially not with a wedding ring on your finger. A complicated shared history and plenty of unresolved feelings between the two of you should make for an interesting summer.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 5.2K (oooops, I got carried away)

Warnings | Descriptions of domestic abuse (not from our boi Javi), talk of injuries, infidelity, cheating, SMUT, oral (f receiving) and unprotected PiV sex (please don't do this, be smart and safe), mentions of alcohol, cigarettes, and pregnancy.

Authors Note | Thank you all for being so patience with me whilst I got my head back into writing this. This took me ages to figure out in my mind but I'm so proud of what I've managed to produce. I really appreciate hearing what y'all think of this series, comments and reblogs really do make my day with this - so if you enjoy it, let me know!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Ethan is furious. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry before. He’d arrived home late last night from his business trip, falling into bed sometime past midnight. He’d tossed and turned for a while as you pretended to be asleep next to him before he turned over, pulled at your arm to turn you onto your back and then crowded on top of you. You’d let him because it was easier than denying him, but when he pushed himself inside of you all you could think about was Javier. 

What would he do in this situation? You’d like to think he’d at least take some time to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Was he the type of man who would spend hours with his head between your thighs just because he liked the way his name fell from your mouth? You think he would be. Would he whisper sweet nothing’s into your ear in Spanish whilst he was buried deep inside you? God, you hoped so. By the time Ethan was spilling himself inside of you and rolling over, leaving you, as he always did, completely unsatisfied and feeling completely used, all your brain could focus on was the animalistic need to know exactly what Javier would do to you in bed. 

Now, as Ethan stands in the kitchen, fuming after he found the wads of cash from your farmer’s market sale, all you wanted to do was run. Run from this pathetic life and into whatever it was that Javier could give you. 

“I fucking told you I would get around to sorting it out!” He shouts at you, “And you had to go and completely disobey me! How does this make me look?” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “Ethan, it’s been pushing one hundred degrees the entire time you’ve been away, I need that new AC unit because otherwise I’m going to die in that shop, and I think a little bit of embarrassment is better than admitting to the town that I’m dead because you couldn’t be bothered to fix it.” 

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” He fumes, his skin flushing red, “I bet that asshole Peña had something to do with this.” 

“Because now every time I do something you don’t like it has to involve him?” You raged, “Newsflash Ethan, I’ve been doing things you don’t like since before we got married, and that certainly had nothing to do with Javier and everything to do with the fact you can’t stand me.” 

“Did he have anything to do with it?” 

You don’t know why you don’t lie in this moment. Maybe it would have been easier, less of an argument to deal with, but you can’t help yourself, “Maybe he did.” 

“I fucking knew it!” Ethan slams his fist down on the kitchen counter, “That asshole, trying to worm his way into my family, walking around this fucking town like he’s some sort of king because he took down Escobar,” You can’t help yourself but think that you might actually be able to see steam coming out of his ears soon, “And you!” He’s pointing a finger at you as he rounds the counter, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay the hell away from him, or are you just too fucking stupid to understand me?” 

It all happens at once. You’ve slapped him hard across the face and in this moment, you can’t tell which of you is more surprised. He’s stood inches away from your face with a look in his eyes that has panic settling in your stomach. He could kill you if he wanted to. It’s the first time you’ve thought he might, with his chest heaving and his eyes like daggers. You’re scared. 

“How. Fucking. Dare. You.” He spits out into your face, he’s got wide hands placed around the tops of your arms and before you know it your back is pressed against the wall, he’s squeezing the skin so hard that you’re crying out, “Someone needs to teach you some fucking respect.” 

If you weren’t so frightened, you’d have some stupid retort about the fact that it certainly couldn’t be him, because even with a ring around your finger you could never respect this man in front of you, but you keep your mouth shut. 

“Ethan please,” You whimper, “Please let me go, you’re hurting me.” 

“Oh, I’m hurting you, am I?” He jeers into your face, squeezing his hands around your arms even harder, “You should have thought about that before you fucking slapped me, stupid girl.”  

He pulls you back from the wall slightly before slamming you backwards again, the force of it causing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you, “You better lose the attitude or I will take us so far away from this place you’ll never see your stupid friends or your precious Javier Peña again, do you understand me?” 

You nod, sniveling through your tears, then he finally lets your arms go and steps away from you, “Get out of my fucking sight.” 

You don’t waste any time in doing just that, stopping just long enough to grab a thin cardigan and your car keys before your hurtling to your car with nowhere really to go. Your immediate thought is Javier, but it’s the middle of the day and he’ll be out helping Chucho on the ranch. You don’t think you can bare the heat of the shop, or the fact that you might have to interact with a customer, so that’s out too. There’s only one person left – Gabriela. There’s an internal battle you’re having with yourself, she’s so close to having her baby that you don’t want to intrude on her, but she’s the only person you can think of who will know what to do right now. 

You’re not really sure how you manage to make it to her house unscathed with the amount of tears that are dropping from your eyes and the way your hands are shaking, but you’re pulling up in front of her house in no time. 

“Good God alive, what on earth is the matter?!” She exclaims when she opens the door, pulling you into a hug, protruding belly crushed between you. 

“Oh Gabriela everything’s gone so wrong and I don’t know what to do.” You cry, sniffing into her shoulder, you pull away and briefly apologise for getting her shirt wet, to which she gives you a look that says ‘don’t be so fucking stupid’ before she’s ushering you inside. 

She waddles in front of you, clearly uncomfortable, and sternly tells you to sit at the breakfast bar whilst she boils some water to make tea. In no time at all there’s a steaming mug placed in front of you, and she’s sat herself down on the chair next to you with her own mug. 

“So, where do we start?” She’s coaxing you, hand holding your own. 

“I’m fucking miserable Gabs,” You speak softly, “And I don’t know what to do.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” She scoffs, “What’s he done this time?” 

“He found the money,” You’re looking into the amber liquid of the green tea in front of you, “Lost his mind that I’d done it without him, got cross because it was Javi’s idea and then told me to get out and leave him alone.” 

“Did he hurt you?” She asks, “And I swear if you lie to me once more about this, I’m actually going to lose my mind.” 

You nod, it’s small, but she catches it, and you can hear the inhalation of breath, “But it was my fault, I slapped him first.” 

“Did you slap him first all the other times he’s clearly hurt you?” You shake your head this time, “Show me.” She’s asking. 

You slowly slip the cardigan off your arms. You look down and there are perfect red welts on your skin where Ethan’s fingers had been digging into your arm earlier. No doubt in time they’d bruise, “Jesus fucking Christ.” Is Gabriela’s response. 

“I’m sorry Gabs, I didn’t wanna burden you with this I promise, but I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“You think this is a burden to me?” She’s imploring, catching your eyeline when you try to look away, “Cielito, this is nothing like a burden, it’s a bloody relief, I’ve been wanting you to tell me this for years.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew, dumbass, all those times you cancelled on me last minute and disappeared for days? You had to be hiding something, and the longer you’ve been with him the longer I’ve known he’s a horrible man – doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” 

“What do I do, Gabs?” 

“Only you can answer that question, but that,” She points to your arms, “That’s assault, so you can go to the police, and then there’s always divorce.” 

“I don’t want to be with him anymore, but I can’t do this on my own Gabriela, I’m so fucking scared, he’s got everything, he’s going to take everything, I won’t have my shop anymore, I’ll be homeless, where do I even start?” 

Gabriela bites at her lip whilst she thinks, “You won’t have to do this alone, I promise you,” She’s got your hand clutched in hers again, “Can you give me a few weeks?” She’s asking, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but let me get this gremlin out of me first, and then I promise we’ll get you out, okay?” 

You nod in agreement because it’s more than you thought you’d get. The idea of freedom could surely see you through the next couple of weeks, “If it gets too bad then you let me know and we’ll sort something out, I promise, okay?” 

She’s hugging you then, the kind of bone crushing hug that only she would be capable of, and you can feel yourself crying again. What on earth had you done to deserve her? 

“I’ll get out of your hair soon, but can I borrow your phone really quickly?” You ask. 

“Of course, I need to use the bathroom again anyway, so I’ll give you some space.” 

Once she’s out of earshot, you’re dialing the number that you’d had memorized since high school, even with his years of absence. After a few rings someone picks up on the other end. 

“Hi, Chucho, it’s me.” 

“Ahhh Mija, how are you today?” 

“I’m well thank you, how about you?” 

“Not too bad thank you, just come inside to beat the midday heat for a while.” 

“Ah yes,” You smile, you’ve always loved the sound of Chucho’s voice, calm and stoic, reminding you of your own father, which is probably why you like it so much, “I hope you’ve got plenty of ice-cold lemonade,” You bite at the side of your thumbnail, “Is Javi there?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t sound like you’re trying to get rid of him too soon. 

“He is, let me just pass you over.” 

There’s the sound of shuffling on the other end of the phone and you can hear Chucho telling Javi it’s you on the other end, then there’s silence before he’s speaking. 

“Hola querida,” God his voice is like butter, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” You reply quietly, “I just wanted to hear your voice, I hope you don’t mind me calling in the middle of the day.” 

“I wouldn’t mind you calling in the middle of the night, querida, don’t worry,” You can hear him drinking someone on the other end of the phone, “You sure you’re okay?” He asks again. 

“I was wondering if I could see you tonight?” You ask meekly, not wanting to make yourself a burden to another person today. 

“You can,” He’s replying, “Where?” 

“Can I come to you?” 

You can hear him shuffling a little on the other end of the phone, you can hear the shifting of paper, he must be looking at the calendar that’s hanging near the phone – his mother had insisted on it when she was still alive, and Chucho makes sure there’s a new one there every January 1st. 

“Yes,” He replies softly, “Pops has a poker game in town tonight according to the calendar, he should be gone by seven, is that okay?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m happy with whatever is best for you, I’ll see you then.” 

“Alright, querida, take care and I’ll see you later.” 

“See you later, Javi.” You whisper softly before you’re hanging up the phone. 

You put the phone back on the receiver and rub your hands over your face, trying to ignore the pooling of nerves in your tummy. If Gabriela could sense all these years that something was off, then there’s no doubt that Javi will know as well. He’s the most perceptive man you’ve ever met. The dull ache of Ethan’s fingerprints on your arms were ever-present now, there was no way you’d be able to hide them from him. 

“You can stay here for a while if you want,” Gabriela’s voice calls from the living room, “I would only be folding baby clothes on my own.” 

You spend the rest of the afternoon helping Gabriela like she suggested, folding baby clothes, setting out diapers and toiletries in the bathroom and eating her famous enchiladas for dinner. Diego comes home sometime after five, giving you a hug, before he’s pulling out two beers which you enjoy with your friends in their back garden. The sun is setting and it’s nearing six in the evening when you bid them both farewell. 

“Please let me know if you need us, okay?” Gabriela whispers into your hair as she hugs you goodbye, “There’s isn’t a thing in this world that would stop us from helping you.” 

You bite back tears before you nod your head, giving Diego a similar hug, before you’re hopping in your car and driving out of town towards the Peña ranch. 

It doesn’t take as long as you’d anticipated but when you drive up you can see there’s only one truck parked outside which means Chucho must have already left for the evening. Javier is stood on the porch before you’ve stepped down from the truck. You make sure the cardigan you’d worn was buttoned up before you head over to him. 

“Evening, querida.” He speaks softly, dipping his head to kiss you on the cheek. 

Before he can fully pull away, you’ve got a hand on the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. His hands weave around your waist and you wrap your other arm around his neck to press your body more firmly to his own before you’re pulling away from him, breathless. 

“Evening to you too.” You smile, and it’s genuine. This man has done nothing but make you happy since he came back. 

“You want a drink?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze, “I bought that wine you used to like drinking, although thinking about it now we were young so your tastebuds have probably matured.” 

You giggle and follow him inside, “They definitely haven’t, is it the white one that we used to drink out of the bottle against the tree?” 

He nods as he leads you to the kitchen, dipping into the fridge to pull it out. It is indeed the exact same brand of wine you’d get drunk on together when he was still around, “You want a glass, or shall we drink it like old times?” 

“Old times,” You reply with a smile as he undoes the screw top, “Can we sit outside?” 

He’s taking the first swig from the wine, pulling the same face he used to all those years ago, as he motions for you to head out to the back porch. You always loved this ranch at dusk. The way the sun set and bathed everything in gentle orange light, the fact there was no noise from the town to distract you, the sound of the crickets chirping. It was peaceful. 

Javi settles onto the bench, and you sit across from him, he leans his arm across the back of the bench and moves his head to tell you he wants you closer, so you shift your body to lean against his chest, head placed on his shoulder. You hope he doesn’t catch the discomfort when you lean too hard onto your arm and shift slightly, but if he does, he’s not mentioned it, instead, he’s passing you the wine which you take a drink from. 

“You sounded upset on the phone, querida, are you sure you’re okay?” 

You take another drink before you pass it back to him, “Ethan came home last night,” You’re speaking as you look into the distance, “Guess I just realized how much I enjoy it when he’s away.” 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, bringing his hand to your arm to squeeze him into his side, it’s stings as he grips to the sore skin from earlier, but you think you manage to play it off, “What can I do to help?” 

He takes a long drink of the wine and then hands it back to you, watching intently as you do the same before you place the half-empty bottle on the floor, “Just kiss me Javi,” You speak, “Make me forget about it for a while.”  

“You want me to just kiss you, querida?” He asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “Or do you want more?” 

You shift to look him in the eye, “I want it all Javi,” You lean up to press a chaste kiss to his lips pulling away before he can take more, “I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” 

He untangles himself from you and stands up before he stretches out his hand for you take, he must see the confusion on your face because he’s talking again, “If you’ve been waiting then I’m not going to fuck you on the porch, querida, come on.” 

You slip your hand into his and then he’s dragging you through the house and up the stairs. He opens the door to his room, which you don’t really take in, he’s motioning his hand for you to sit on the bed, which you do. 

He walks over to you and pushes your chin up with one of his fingers. He’s looming over you and if this was anyone else it would make you feel uncomfortable, but he’s looking at you like you were about to give him the world, before he’s leaning down and pressing his lips softly to your own. In the back of your mind you can feel him unbuttoning the front of your cardigan, it’s a relief because it’s so fucking warm in here, he’s pulling back from your mouth to push it off and then he stops. He’s not pulled it all the way off, the material bunching in the crook of your elbow because he’s seen. He’s seen the marks on your arms. Perfect red indentations of fingertips. 

He's kneeling in front of you now, between your thighs, as he takes one arm in his hand, “Did he do this to you?”  

“Javi please…” You beg him. 

“Did he do this to you?” He asks again, slower and with a register that tells you he isn’t messing around, you nod at him, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” 

He’s standing like he’s going to get in his car and do it. You grab at his wrist, “Javi please, don’t,” You pull him back to you, “It was my fault.” You say softly, just like you had to Gabriela. 

“This?!” He’s back on his knees again, clutching at your arm, “This is never your fault, do you understand me?” He’s looking into your eyes again, then he softens, “It doesn’t matter what you did, you don’t deserve this.” 

“Please, will you just come back to me,” You plead, taking his face in your hands, “I need to forget him, just for tonight.” 

In the back of his mind he knows it’s not right, it’s just a distraction, and all he really wants is to know what’s going on, but the way your eyes are pleading with him, he can’t say no, “Only if you promise to talk to me after?” 

“I promise.” You reply almost immediately, and then he’s crowding you, he’s settling between your thighs but this time his lips are on yours and it’s overwhelming. 

You widen your legs as your mouth opens to him, tongues mixing together. You can taste the cheap wine and the cigarettes he swears he’s trying to give up on. He can taste a sweetness he’s never felt before when he’s kissed a woman. It fast and it’s messy, and you don’t understand why you’re moaning into his mouth when he’s not really touched you. Without breaking the kiss, he’s moving, you’re pushed back onto the bed and he’s settled between your thighs, and then he’s pulling his mouth from yours to trail hot, wet kisses over your throat. 

God, he wants to sink his teeth into your skin. Wants to mark you so that when you go home, he knows, knows that there’s someone out there who’s going to cherish you until his dying breath, going to protect you from men like him. He knows better, knows that you’ll be going home alone and any mark on your body would mean more marks from him, and Javi doesn’t think he can bare the fact that it’ll be his fault, so he sticks to kisses. He can feel your hands on his shoulders, sinking in through the material of his shirt and he wants more. 

He's pushing himself back from you, taking a moment to take his shirt off before his attention is back at you. You’re spread out on his bed, hair splayed out underneath you and the look in your eyes almost makes him cry. It’s admiration, that he’s sure of, but there’s something else in your eyes too, maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s happiness, he doesn’t know, but he isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him like that. 

“God you’re beautiful, Javi.” You whisper as he leans back down to you. 

The feeling of your cool hands on his hot skin electrifies him, and he can feel his hands working your tank top up to expose the skin of your tummy. You lift yourself up a little so he can take it all the way off before he continues the trail of his lips over your collarbone and down between the dip in your breasts. He’s gently moving the straps of your bra down and takes the opportunity to undo the clasp at the back when you arch up into him. It’s discarded to the floor without a second thought and then his mouth is on you again. 

He uses the flat of his tongue to run hot stripes over your peaked nipple, whilst his fingers take the other peaked bud and starts rolling it between them. A whine drops from your lips, and you can feel him smiling into your skin and you arch up into him. He’s taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking and then using the tip of his tongue to run circle around it and all your head can think is how much you want his mouth doing just this further down your body. 

“You tell me what you like, querida,” He mumbles into your skin, “Wanna make you feel good.” 

“Your mouth,” You breathe out, head thrown back as he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth, “I need… fuck… I need it lower, Javi.” 

He’s lifted his lips from your tits and you’re moving your head to meet his eyes and he genuinely looks hungry. Like a man starved, with a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want me to eat your pussy, hmm?” 

He’s pushed himself back on his knees and for a split second before he’s pulling at your shorts to take them off, you can see he’s half-hard under his own denim. You’ve barely touched him, and this is how he is? It’s got pride swelling in your chest. 

He makes quick work of your shorts, throwing them to the ground along with your underwear. He takes a second to look at you, spread out and bare for him, and he thinks that if he died right now, he would die a happy man having seen you like this. He takes his thumb and runs it gently along the seam of your pussy, watching as your eyes close and you let out a breath. 

Javi stands briefly before he’s dropping to his knees on his floor. His hands are on either side of your hips, dragging you forward. He pulls you with such force that you bump your thigh into his face, but he’s not complaining. You expect him to tease you, but it turns out that he’s been waiting just as long as you have for this. He wastes no time in using the entire flat of his tongue to lick a hot, wet stripe from the bottom of your pussy to the top, which has an obscene moan dropping from your lips. He could listen to you make those noises for him all fucking day. 

One of his hands moves from your hips, he uses it to spread your pussy before he makes the same motion with his tongue as before but focusing its entirety on your clit. You think you might see stars. Once he’d started, he doesn’t stop. Spurred on by the obscenity dropping from your lips like, fuckjavi that’s so fucking good, and please don’t stop, he’s eating your pussy like it’s his death row meal. He’s lapping at the slick that gathers at your entrance, he’s suckling on your clit, or flicking it with the tip of his tongue, but it’s when he pushes two of his thick fingers inside you that you’re truly coming undone. 

You’re bucking your hips up into his mouth, grinding down on his fingers and then it’s all coming undone with that bright burst of pleasure you hadn’t felt in years. You can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers, and you can hear him suckling your clit through the aftershocks as your legs shake around his head. He slips his fingers out of you and finishes with one chaste kiss to your clit before he’s pulling at your arm to sit you up. 

You’re jelly until he kisses you. You can taste yourself on his mouth, sweet and sour with the mix of his cigarettes and it’s intoxicating. You can feel his slick fingers on your thigh as he uses it as a crutch to push himself off the floor. When he stands, his groin is right in your eyeline and now he’s not half-hard. Fuck, he’s bulging. You watch as his hands undo his belt and tear it through the loops of his jeans before he’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans right in front of your face. He steps back a little to let the remainder of his clothes pool on the floor, but then he’s stepping out of them and back towards you and you can’t help but reach out and take his cock in your hand. 

You look up at him, head thrown back with his eyes closed in pleasure. Your name drops from his lips as you continue working him with your hand, you’re just about to take him into your mouth when he speaks, “How do you want me?” 

It’s a crime that he’s making you choose because fuck, you want him in every way. You want him to fold you in half and pound into you, you want him to take you from behind whilst he uses his fingers on your clit, you want him to wake you up in the morning with kisses to your neck whilst he buries himself inside you from the side. 

“Can I ride you?” You ask quietly. 

“Querida, there’s a gun downstairs,” He speaks, settling himself down on his bed on his back, before he’s guiding you to straddle his hips, “If I ever say no to that, I want you to use it on me, okay?” 

You’re laughing, because it’s dramatic, but it cuts the tension with a knife. You’re both still laughing to each other when you’re shifting your hips and using your hand to line him up with your tight heat. He’s big, there’s no beating around the bush here, and as you sink down slowly onto him, his hands on your hips to guide you, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so full. 

You’re throwing your head back and breathing out his name as he bottoms out, hearing a similar moan from him as you start grinding your hips. He’s using his hands on your hips to guide you and the friction inside of you in addictive. You think if you could spend the rest of your days like this then you would give up everything to do so. 

“Fuck, hermosa, you look fucking incredible like this.” Javi purrs from underneath you, it makes your heart swell because no-one ever said things like this to you before. 

You continue to grind against him until he’s holding your hips still and bringing his knees up, settling them against your backside. He lifts you up a little off his cock, with a strength you’d never witnessed before, and then he’s fucking up into you, cock punching as deep into you as you think you can take it, his balls slapping against your ass. 

“Ohmygod, fuck Javi,” You’re squealing, putting your hands on top of his knees to keep you steady, “I think you’re… oh god… I think you’re gonna make me cum again.” 

You look down and he’s looking up at you, grinning like a devil, because he’s got you so close to the edge, cock hitting a spot within you that feels like heaven and hell mixed into one, “Go on, querida, come for me.” 

His husky voice is what does it. You’re clenching down on him as you call out his name. His hands on your hips keeping you upright as dark spots cloud your vision, “God, what I wouldn’t give to hear that every second of the day.” He groans as he flips you onto your back in one smooth move. 

He’s still buried deep inside you, one hand brushing sweat-soaked hair from you face, the other gripping to your ass as he lifts your hips to meet him. He’s slowed but you can tell from the way his hips stutter into your own that he’s close. 

“Where do you want me?” He whispers into your ear. 

Everywhere, is what you want to say. Paint me, cover me, mark me as yours, is all you can think. What you say is, “Wherever you want.” 

You think you see his mouth open to answer you, but it’s too late. He’s pulling out of you, fisting his cock two, three times, and then he’s painting your skin with his spend. Thick ropes of cum cover your tummy as he's growling into your ear, collapsing next to you when he’s given you everything he’s got. 

When you lie there next to him, his cum drying on your abdomen, his mouth still kissing at the skin of your neck, you think you should feel guilty. Guilty that you broke your vows, guilty that you’ve let a man other than your husband touch you. Guilty that you did so without a second thought. Guilty that he didn't once cross your mind. There isn’t an ounce of guilt within you. You lean into his kisses and thank the Lord for bringing him back, for bringing him back to you, because you know this right here? This is happiness. 

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[sockiestupidity]

Papusa Making-Miguel O'hara x platonic teen reader

Description; Reader is the complete opposite of Miguel and does not easily trust, reader gets caught stress making papusas at ungodly hours by Miguel💀Alternatively:Miguel unexpectedly befriends the newest addition to spider society over food

no spanish bc im a no sabo kid🙈(sorry if he seems too white for y'all)

warnings- lowercase intentional, bad writing/bad grammar, fluff, angst??, implied abuse/neglect, ooc miguel(acts a lot like peter b.???), not proofread, idk what else, let me know if i forgot anything🤷‍♂️ the reader is gn!!! reader is also implied to be nonverbal bc i said so🥰

also the povs slightly change at some points (just ignore it🙏)

first time writing a fanfic pls be nice :))

it was dawning 4:00 am and y/n still had yet to fall asleep, their mind preoccupied with anxiety and paranoia, they took a deep heavy breath, and tried not to close their exhausted eyes. they squeezed their eyelids shut, feeling a headache approaching, and as soon as they did, images of their past events played. they quickly shook their head, trying to get those images out of their mind. as grateful as they were for having a place to stay at hq, they could not help but think about the comforts of their own home. despite the imposing threats of their home, there was almost something cathartic about sleeping on an old bed that was on the verge of falling apart. the young spider's new housing situation felt too safe, too quiet…to… comfortable. as a new spider, they did not know for how long these types of comforts would ve provided without a cost. they almost never slept, as they felt as if they did, these comforts would suddenly gone, as if it was all a sick joke, or a dream

suddenly y/n felt something wet drip down their cheek. "am i crying?" they thought to theirself.

they took another deep breath in, trying not to hyperventilate. in times like these, y/n would usually either bake or cook (only when their parents were not present) or they would just straight up bottle their emotions. y/n sighed as they weighed their options. despite their brains constant paranoia as to what might happen if they get caught baking, they decided to go against their paranoia for once.

as y/n quietly treaded towards the communal kitchen, making sure not to wake anyone up (AN: i imagine that hq house is just a rlly big ahh house so that why theres a communal kitchen). as they looked through the contents available, they remembered that a previous spider had make masa recently, and had leftover masa that desperately needed to be used. y/n also recalled how another spider had previously made pickled vegetables and cabbage and ended up not needing it. this gave the young spider an idea. they swiftly grabbed out the needed ingredients for papusa filling. which included beans, cheese, and loroco. y/n decided to make vegetarian papusas just incase other spiders were interested in eating them. since they basically acknowledged no one in spider society, y/n decided that this could at least be seen as a token appreciation for being taken into the society.

they happily began mixing, almost forgetting the previous events that were plaguing their mind, until a large, menacing figure was seen in their field of vision. y/n suddenly stopped mixing, their hands now trembling with fear, panic clouded their mind, and their eyes began to blur, as they began hyperventilating the figure got closer. in response, y/n decided to continue moving back until they were trapped in a corner of the room.

the figure suddenly came to a halt, y/n looked up to the figure, not being able to recognize the harsh features of the figure.

the figure held a hand up, as soon as the figure did, y/n flinched. the figure suddenly donned what looked like a frown. suddenly, the figure began to speak, "hey, its going to be alright kid, i need you to breathe with me okay?" y/n nodded, still trembling with fear.

the figure began to count with their fingers, "just follow my lead, alright? in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight, alright?" the young spiderlings breathing soon began to calm down after the figure repeated the exercise. soon their vision began to clear, and as soon as it did, they realized that the figure was the stoic man who led the spider society.

he suddenly spoke again, "everything alright?" y/n nodded.

"what are you doing up so late?" he asked the young spider. y/n noted how it looked like he was attempting to soften his features for them.

y/n just simply gestured to the bowl of mix, as well as the pickled vegetables and bag of masa. miguel nodded.

"i have never made papusas before but i have made tamales, could i possibly help you out?" he questioned.

y/n pondered. could they really trust this man? miguel's stature was huge, and could easily take advantage of them. y/n looked down, trying to blink away tears.

miguel attempted a look of sympathy towards the newest spider. he had felt so bad for not monitoring your earth earlier than he decided to. he had seen what had happened after it was far too late. it frustrated him, those events weren't even canon, he could've done something if he had known, there was no need for you to go through that much pain. going through his loss of his daughter made him sympathize with you, not only did you remind him of gabriella, you also reminded him of himself. he felt obligated to take care of you because of your naivete not only that, but he also didn't want to see you go down the same path of destruction he went down.

he took a deep breath in and out, "i understand why you don't trust me, and i respect that alright? but i just want to make it clear that i would never do those things to you. i want you to be able to trust me" he explained to you.

y/n looked back up. he seemed to be trustworthy op enough. after all, he was a grieving father, and seemed as if he had really cared for his daughter.

y/n gestured towards miguel, then to the abandoned products, and then to themself.

"you want me to help you?" he asked, wanting to clarify that he interpreted your gestures right. you nodded in response. he responded with a rare smile.

the two of you got to work, mixing the filling and placing it into the masa. after all the papusas were finally finished with shaping, he finally spoke up.

"maybe next time i can show you how to make tamales, we can even incorporate the banana leaves as well" he suggested.

you pondered his suggestion and nodded with a smile. even though you often did not trust adults, miguel seemed like someone you could trust, and you found it admirable that he was willing to incorporate your culture.

"alright kid, lets cook these" the two of you began to cook the papusas. when the two of you were finally done with cooking the papusas, and cleaning the area, most of spiders in the hq housing were awake, as it was around 6:00 am (AN: realistically papusa making doesn't always take that long but just ignore it for the sake of the story🙏). some of the spiders heading towards the kitchen commented on how good the kitchen smelled.

one of the spiderpeople looked towards you, "did you do this?" they asked. you gestured towards yourself and miguel, miguel simply looked away, "the big bad boss helped you out?" they questioned in shock. the spiderpeople could not believe it. the cold, harsh man had helped you, the timid new kid make food? but it seems that the surprised chatter was soon silenced as people started to eat your papusas.

needless to say that they encouraged you and miguel to cook more often.

AN: if u got this far tysm for reading, i rlly do appreciate it-feel free to leave feed back, or interact in any way🥰 i was inspired to write this bc despite the amount of miguel x hispanic reader works there were, i felt like most of them were targeted towards mexican ppl (or like some of yall forget that other latin countries besides mexico exist) and i wanted to see some rep for salvadorans

[wttt-dirus-work]

So, i saw a post with NY headcanons and it reminded me that while i included my own disabled headcanons in my fics, i forgot to make my own headcanons post (?) and i've got more than i though lol

So here we go!

NY: Dude got a bad eye, someday it's normal, other days it get blurred. He also has a scar over it, and his shoulders can get funky when its humid outside.

NJ: some of y'all already knows it, but Jersey got Tourette's. Mostly shoulder jerking, neck twitching, blinking hard and grimacing. When it gets bad his back jerks, and his vocals tics get worse (mostly whistles and pop, tho if hes anxious/stressed he does repeat some words)

Delaware: he got arthritis in his hands, and can hardly move them.

Mass: He was injured during the revolution, and walking became harder for him (limping and his legs became stiffer), then another injury during the civil war made him unable to walk for some days, therefore he use a wheelchair most of the time. He is still able to walk, but it is either too painful, or he doesn't have the energy needed to be able to stand all day.

Connie: he got shaky hands, when he's tired, nervous or angry, he cant hold anything with those. Its his nerves, and it doesnt hurt but its annoying.

Vermont: he got diabetes! Type 1; and it's so fucking expensive that it's Québec his "dealer" (it cost around 98$US when here its around 12$CAN sooo). He also got a sweet tooth, and forget to watch his sugar level (Hampshire there's for it; buddy's wayy to protective to let anything happen to Vermont)

PA: he's dyslexic, and it's mostly Mass who helps him with paperwork when he's not badgering Connie.

Florida: That gremling got Adhd, big dyslexia and his first language is spanish (which doesnt help with the reading). He also got so many scars from disturbing wildlife (anyone has seen that "yoink" dude in the everglades? Yeah thats flo). He got chronic pain in his left knee, and his right wrist always cracks when he moves it.

Louie: french lover is a people pleaser, but the chillest person you'll ever meet. He never panics, and is sometime too calm; but hurt any of the southern state (or Cal) and you're done. He's the voodoo capital, so dont mess with him

Georgia: hes an insomniac, but is fucking sleepy during the day (the math aint mathing ya know). He can sleep anywhere except during the night. He's bud with york and nevada, you can find those three driking in silence during a poker game.

Virginia: (uses they/them) they have a limp on the left leg, who always in pain (low but chronic with some real bad days). They're also a sleepwalker (think Celinaspookyboo style) and Georgia (or one of the insomniac state) each switch to watch them at night.

Montana: deer in headlights when spoken to. Will not talk to anyone when he doesnt have something to say or isnt upset (that sketch with the clown thing? Yeah he talked to them cause he was angry). Dont talk to him, dont even aknowledge him and he'll be more than happy to not exist in your mind. (Hes jealous of alaskas ability to not being seen)

Cal: dudes his always in pain. The fire, the drought, to goldrushes, hes always hurting. He got big scars from the fires, and his skin is the dryest thing ever despite all the moisturizer he uses. When he's burning up his eyes gets cloudy grey; they itch and cry all the time, and he cant see shit. He also need an oxygen mask when its too bad, and his eyes are naturaly gold.

Washington: hes a bitch. Dude got poor circulation too, so his hands and feet are always cold. When it's raining for too long his hair is oily, and when it's a drought it's the driest (he uses dryshampoo and got a routine to fight it).

Oregon : hes gay. Thats a known thing, and he's the bridge between Cal and Wash. Hes nicer to cal than wash, but he's not kind. The west coast are nice in interraction, but they ain't your friends.

Nevada: ah, vada. He got scaring from the nuclear testing, can see in the dark like nobody, and is the only state who can chose to change their physical appearance. Has coloured hair (pink or purple mostly) and the greenest eyes you'll ever see (or purple, didnt made my mind yet). Hes careful with his diet and always exercice despite the painful joins.

Texas: that idiot got sleep apnea but refuses to get checked out for it (and get a CPAP). He also has asthma (geez that word is hard to write) and colorblindness (can't see red). He only wears his shirt cause he knows what the colours are and refused to be pranked about that.

If you wanna adds your own, your welcome to do so! ^^

[cyn-onym]

Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcannons

warning! - nsfw (marking/biting + condescension + c0ckwarming + size k!nk + manhandling + s3x positions mentions + overstim + breeding + impreg mentions + dumbification + smono). gender-neutral pronouns, but minor fem qualities mentioned (nicknames + undergarments).

RAHHHH. I told y'all I had something inappropriate to say.

▷ Miguel O'Hara is a man of many talents and accomplishments...and one of them is being a fiend in bed. But let's start out light. We all saw the trailers. This man has fangs and best believe he uses 'em. If he goes down on you be prepared to wear pants for the rest of the week because your hips and thighs will be littered with bite marks and scratches. All because he can't get enough of you and your taste.

▷ But as mean as Miguel may come off he can't help but treat you with kindness and respect, no matter what you do. So be scared. It makes punishing you all the worse. He'll either have you cumming back to back to back. All while lecturing you through each orgasm, "You know how upset that makes me." or he'll force you to cockwarm him until he finishes his work so he can do the latter. Sometimes he'll get a little too heated and lecture you in Spanish. "Mírate. Volverse tonto en mi polla? Contéstame nena? Hey, are you listening?!". He's so nice...but so mean :(

▷ Be even more scared when he's rewarding you. He'll give you some of the most eye-rolling, sheet-ripping, body-failing orgasms you've ever experienced. You'll be damn near ready to pass out and he'll just continue because your his baby and he can't help but spoil you for being/doing so good for him. "It's ok, I know. I know you can keep going, I got you." or "You're doing so well, mi amor, just like that." RAHHHH.

▷ Now let's move on to positions, but first, let's address the elephant in the room. This man is huge, and I mean that everywhere. His shoulders, his back, his.... The only thing small about this man is his waist let's be so fucking fr. And he uses his size to his advantage always looming over you and it honestly....turns him on. Being able to handle you and put you in any position, he pleases because you can't fight back or deny it, does a number on him. He's so sick for thinking like that :(

▷ With that being said his favorite positions are full nelson (because he just loves seeing you helpless and unable to fight back). Along with prone bone, and mating press (because he also loves pinning you down, being in control and giving you what you deserve).

▷ Which brings us to our next segment. This man has a breeding kink. Especially after losing his first child, but after a little convincing and therapy, he'd probably be willing to try for another...or more... Don't worry he'll unload load after load to make sure your thoroughly bred, and I imagine he loves the idea of a having a big family so....expect no rest "Just 1 more. One more. Linda, I promise." Knowing damn well he said 1 more, 3 more ago :(

▷ After his long days of saving civilians or working in his lab, he comes back late only to find you deep in sleep. He admires and coos over you (of course) but can't help but notice how your only wearing one of his t-shirts, and your panties...and you just so happen to be in the perfect position for him to pull your panties aside and slide in....and you can guessed what happened. But like any normal person you woke up, only for him to coo and tell you to go back to sleep which you obey. Only for you to wake up again to the sound of his choked/muffled moans above you with his claws tearing the pillow by your head.

[fallynleaf]

!مرحبا

took another unintentional tumblr hiatus because i've been extremely busy doing irl activism for most of the past year, but especially over the past 6 months. it has been really stressful and scary at times, and i'm not really cut out for it at all, but i've been trying to do my best to learn on the job so to speak. i can't talk too much about that here though lol so my life probably won't seem that exciting just from reading this post fgkjhdh

some other life updates:

finished reading the tanka book in Japanese! i wrote several poems, including one for Hyper Misao's produce show (and yes she did in fact see my poems on twitter!)

started learning Palestinian Arabic with a few local Palestinian friends after seeing this post on twitter! i'm still continuing to study Spanish and Japanese, though i've scaled back a bit on those because i'm pretty solidly intermediate in both so i can maintain them just by reading and listening to media in the language. Arabic was always kind of vaguely the third language i wanted to learn after Spanish and Japanese (i think i listed it in every single "if you could instantly learn 5 languages, what would they be?" posts on here lol), and so i ended up going for it when the opportunity to learn it presented itself. no idea how far i'll get, but even knowing a little bit has been very rewarding

our Arabic lessons are currently on hold due to irl stuff on our end, and i worry every day that we won't be able to resume them due to the West Bank being invaded...

started playing my first VN, Umineko: When They Cry, after being a lifelong hater of the medium lol. i'm playing it in Japanese along with our book club here on the WK forum

had several extremely bad depressive episodes and strongly considered killing myself. the only thing that has really stopped me so far is knowing that Palestine needs me to be alive rn

almost quit watching pro wrestling, translating TJPW, and studying Japanese entirely. i had made up my mind to retire as a fan translator (and as a pro wrestling fan, period) after Nao Kakuta's retirement, but then a few days before that show i watched DDT Wrestle Peter Pan, and Kota Ibushi came back to DDT for the first time in like eight years, and i cried my eyes out and knew i couldn't quit yet

reached my TJPW translation account's two year debut anniversary

i'm going to try to be around a bit more going forward, and will try to go back and catch up on at least some of the stuff i missed (i still have a bunch of old posts from 2023 left to read lol)

hope y'all have all been well! life has been pretty bleak for me for quite some time, so i'm kind of barely holding on. but i do miss seeing what my friends have been up to here, and i hope the world has been kinder to you than it has been to me

[girlbossblackbeard]

brain thoughts whilst watching s2 ep1

if u saw me post some of these as their own posts no u didnt

-y'all are so smart for predicting that the steard HAD to be a fantasy/dream sequence

-"I never made you leave him. You did that yourself" *stede kills him* hmmmmmm definitely not a metaphor for stede trying to kill/silence the part(s) of himself and his actions that he hates and is ashamed of and that story arc DEFINITELY isn't a parallel to Ed's comatose dream journey we see later in ep 3 when he confronts Hornigold's ghost only to realize that it's actually a manifestation of Ed's self-hatred. this is just a silly little pirate show with silly little fake sword battles that's all :)

-Okay. We know this is a fantasy. We know this is a silly little pirate show. We know it's a haha funny comedy with two of the best comedic actors the world has ever seen in the starring roles. And Yet. The ungodly heartbreaking "Ed" that Stede yells the second time just before running to him is so gut-wrenching, so full of desperation, so overwhelmingly breathtaking in the undeniable agony laced throughout that one syllable, I wish god had put me in Izzy's place instead bc it would've been a thousand times less painful to literally be stabbed directly through my abdomen than to hear Stede say Ed's name like that while tears well up in his eyes

-watching stede and ed run like that gave me the ick im so sorry yall i wanted to be brave about it but i just cant be

-okay but WHY am i blushing when Ed looks directly into the camera for his lines in the fantasy sequence.........how in the hell did stede not spontaneously combust the second those stupidly big brown beautiful doe eyes made eye contact with him

-EVERYONE SHUT UP STEDE'S FACE AFTER HE AND ED COLLIDE AND ARE ROLLING AROUND IN THE SAND IS A LOOK OF ABJECT DESPERATION AND AGONY WHAT THE FUCK HE MISSES HIM SO MUCH AND FEELS SO GUILTY HE CAN'T EVEN BE TRULY HAPPY IN HIS OWN DREAMS

-"I knew you'd find me, babe" "You're not mad?" "I knew you'd find me, love" "So, we're good? About everything?" "Fuckin' love the beard, mate" Even in Stede's dreams Ed does not confirm that everything is alright between them. I'm starting to think this dream sequence is actually a nightmare sequence because he gets confronted by his fears by not only Izzy throwing it in his face that Stede left Ed of his own volition but Ed steadfastly refusing to answer Stede's questions about their relationship being okay

-in stede's dream ed has his full beard because that's a marker of the last time/era stede remembers being truly happy with ed before he ruined everything at the naval academy and broke ed's heart so severely it turned him into the very monster the rest of the world always wrongly made him out to be

-"can't be worse than you moaning 'ed, oh ed' all night long" black pete my beloved

-GOD stede's hair and scruff look so GOOD on him what the HELL

-WEE JOHN'S HAIR AND EYELINER AND PIERCINGS AND EVERYTHING LOOK SO GOD DAMN GOOD HE LOOKS SO GOD DAMN GOOD

-stede's silly little thumbs up to the swede as jackie makes him throw that ass in a circle reblog if u agree

-stede talking to the patrons at spanish jackie's is just a typical customer interaction working in the service industry

-ayo i think spanish jackie's is serving food now?? guess that overhead issue she mentioned to geraldo in s1 is no longer an issue bc that place is popping

-if ricky was able to clock stede immediately and doesn't think he's dead even after his very public and very loony-tunes-esque death then how many people in barbados actually believe he's dead??? does the whole town just kinda know he faked it and have accepted that he abandoned his family, became a pirate, came back home, drunkenly bisexualized his ex(??) wife's new boo thang, then faked his death so he could abandon his family again???

-"Demon? I'm the fuckin' Devil" I can't accurately put into words how hearing this line so softly spoken paired with seeing Ed's beautiful kohl-covered eyes as the guitar and xylophone from the song kicks in has affected me but I can say with 100% certainty it is the root cause of my new mental illness, whatever that may be

-fuck OFFFFFFFFFFFF EVERYONE LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD ON THE KRAKEN CREW IT'S ACTUALLY INSANE

-LOVE LOVE LOVE the freeze frame with the day of the week overlay it is SUCH a visually excellent component of those scenes

-i know we're all supposed to be very sad and upset at ed shooting a guy (that was BASICALLY ALREADY DEAD) but for the love of GOD that man has never served so much princess babygirl gender in one cocking and shooting of a gun as he did in that scene

-JUST REALIZED ED IS WEARING A LONG TRENCH COAT JACKET THING IN THE SHOOTING SCENE AND THAT'S WHY THAT SHOT IS AFFECTING ME SO MUCH IT LOOKS LIKE A DRESS

-the immediate stoppage of the music with the smash cut to the crew trying to process the trauma that they've been through is so fucking funny, the editors have absolutely mastered the science of comedic timing

-"i dunno, i've never really been to a wedding before so i've got nothing to compare it to really" archie my beloved

-"i've never seen blackbeard like this. he didn't even bat an eye when ivan got killed" i don't have the energy to really put all my thoughts about this into coherent sentences, so all i'll say is that i'm really disappointed this is how they chose to deal with ivan not being in the show anymore. idk what went down with guz khan and whomever made the decision not to invite him back for s2, but at the very least i feel like they could've either written him off in some other way or simply not mentioned him at all. killing him off in one sentence that gets immediately interrupted with a comedic line just doesn't sit right with me

-"i lock the box and then i don't open it again" frenchie just like me fr

-i know stede did NOT just say "he's just blowing off some steam" in response to olu pointing out that ed has been committing so many crimes they literally had to start listing them on the back of the wanted posters. it's giving "girlfriend whose boyfriend acts like a massive asshole to her in front of her friends but she tells them he's actually soooo sweet when it's just the two of them together"

-"well, we can't turn up with any old ship. we need to look good" stede you literally haven't touched clean water in who knows how long, i think pulling up to the revenge in a dope af whip might need to be a little lower on your priority list babe

-the way ed gently strokes that cake topper before stuffing it in his jacket right above his heart like he used to do with the red silk bc stede's entire being eclipsed the silk when he became ed's whole heart. cinema

-i said it before and i'll say it again: izzy looks like a sad clown with his rudy giulliani lookin ass hair dye dripping down his face and the black panda rings around his eyes as a sad excuse for war paint

-when watching the first ep for the first time, i found myself becoming extremely uncomfortable and even anxious at times watching ed doing drugs and having a very public spiral that he takes out on the crew. massive props to taika and the writers for being able to make me genuinely a little terrified of Blackbeard in those scenes

-conathan o'neill. words cannot describe how enrapturing every single second of screentime you get is. every pixel of your performance is pure perfection. every tear that glimmers in your eye but refuses to fall is gloriously gut-wrenching. every laugh out of izzy's mouth is uniquely, ineffably uncomfortable in ways that should be futilely studied by science. also u look really hot when you're leaning on the rigging in the storm

-the swede shaking his head "no" at stede trying to warn him not to talk back to jackie when she steals their savings. he was trying to help his friends :(

-"i know that guy, we had breakfast together :D" "you'll be having a lot of breakfasts together" "oh okay :))" the swede my beloved

-buttons opening his mouth when it starts raining. buttons my beloved

-"im afraid your...your life is better without me" is SUCH an amazing line read from rhys, the way stede's voice hitches and you can hear the tears in his throat as he tries to voice his deepest fears is so incredibly moving which is why i got both the ick and medically diagnosed whiplash when he busts out that extraordinarily cringe ed voice to RESPOND TO HIMSELF. idk what's wrong with that man but it's not in ye olde DSM-5

-the fact that, once again, in stede's own imagination ed is not refuting stede's fears but is rather confirming them in the case of him talking to ed's wanted poster about how he's worried ed's life is better without stede in it and stede responding "could be...could be mate" in "ed's" voice is actually really desperately tragic and heartbreaking when you think about it ! :)

-"i know everything about you" i truly hate to say it but SOME of us, and im not saying who (me), are unfortunately extremely ricky-coded. it's giving "hi kevin" in spongebob

-"i, too, am a child of wealth" STOOOOPPPPPPPP I WAS ABSOLUTELY HOWLING AT THIS LINE IDK WHAT THE WRITERS ARE GETTING PAID BUT IT NEEDS TO BE ON PAR WITH WHATEVER RICHES RICKY WAS CLEARLY STRUGGLING WITH AS A CHILD VICTIM OF TOO MUCH MONEY

-someone smarter than me should do an analysis on how quickly stede's attitude towards ricky flipped once ricky told stede he was his hero and the gentleman pirate saved his life and how stede maybe saw a lot of his past self in ricky and is intimately aware of how the mundanity of living a life that's been prescribed to you from birth with expectations you could never live up to can drive you to the edge unless you choose to do something drastic to change your situation and how stede already feels like such a failure because of both the situation with his family/old life AND with ed/his new life that he took the opportunity to be the kind of gentle guide he could've used when he was starting out in the same situation ricky is before stede met ed and started to learn the ropes more. so if ur reading this please get on that thx <3

"my time with jackie has been the happiest of my life. her love has helped me locate parts of myself i didn't even know existed" (his prostate) "and reclaim others that i had long missed" (his teeth and nails)

-"but...i owe you a life debt and i am bound to honor it" something something mary telling stede "we made a contract in front of god and i am bound to honor that" something something stede being told by multiple people he cares about that the only reason they're dealing with him is because of societal convention

-i was gonna start this post off with "sorry" but i actually will not be apologizing for the unabated foaming-at-the-mouth level of hedonistic intoxication i experience every time i look at ed in his warpaint. if you have any issues with this that's between u and god buddy

-"i have...love for you, edward" actually made me gasp so hard i choked

-"i heard that you think the vibe here on the ship is poisonous" ed said VIBE CHECK and then took izzy's leg

-fang whimpering is actually illegal

-ed asking blackbeard about the vibes on the ship was such an incredibly well done performance from taika because i was genuinely so uncomfortable watching that go down i almost had to look away

-frenchie shaking his head "no" at izzy after izzy yells at ed to stop with his insane blackbeard monologue about the vibes on the ship is such a tiny moment but speaks VOLUMES about how trauma-bonded that crew has become under the kraken's rule. frenchie doesn't want to see izzy get even more hurt than he already does on a daily basis but i think he also knows it's already too late

-god the way ed just casually turns away and shoots izzy the second he hears the first "st" syllable of stede's name is so chilling

>>>side note: does ed look away because he can't watch himself actually hurt izzy THAT badly? he later turns his back to izzy in the hopes izzy will shoot him and when he doesn't, ed leaves before izzy shoots himself

-izzy's resigned inhale and small smile before starting to say "your feelings for stede bonnet" is so unbelievably heartbreaking because he knows. he knows he's about to get majorly fucked up for what he's about to say but he's tired of everyone walking on delicate shards of glass around ed

-the fucking joke of "how are you so good at this" because he's literally doing the swedish massage. credit goes to my friend shane for realizing this right away when it would've taken me 20 rewatches to come close to getting it

-"I can't believe how well this is going" black pete my beloved

-"this is where you went wrong with the whole gentleman pirate thing. details like this are important to build a brand" she's an influencer

-"i cant believe you guys robbed jackie. wow. so bad" the swede my beloved

-wee john covering his nose as jackie says she's about to get more noses for her nose jar

-"aint you that soup bitch" "im the money bitch" well im gay and i want them both to step on me

-"it's okay sexy dutchman"

-ed crying on the bow of the ship is sooooooooooo insane to me like i keep getting reminded of the fact that he's literally been crying every single night for MONTHS over stede

-"never going back to land. we're gonna sail, rob, and raise hell forever and ever without end" "sounds like a plan" frenchie's face as he realizes he's probably gonna spend the rest of his life on that ship may have actually caused heart damage

-HI THE TRANSITION FROM ED SAYING "FUCK YOU STEDE BONNET" AND LOOKING AT THE MOON TO STEDE LOOKING AT THE SAME MOON AND SAYING "GOODNIGHT ED TEACH" SHOULD EITHER BE GIVEN AN OSCAR OR CODIFIED AS A VIOLATION OF THE GENEVA CONVENTION I JUST DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE YET