#[i just want to find an excuse to get my boy back sobs

[megameatymatt]

Step By Step - Matt Sturniolo

summary: Matt finds out about y/n's ED relapse

WARNINGS: e@t!ng d!sorder, swearing, throwing up, gagging, crying, self-hatred/insecure, feelings of hopelessness, overthinking

If you or anyone you know is dealing with an ED or substance abuse, call or text:  1-800-662-4357.

word count: 766

requested?: nope

A/N: I was feeling sad so all of you must suffer with me. Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! ok bye

Pink: Y/n

Blue: Matt

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

Matt knows you've dealt with an eating disorder in the past. He wasn't there during it, but you've talked to him about it and answered some of his questions. It didn't make you any less perfect in his eyes. To him, all that mattered was you being okay. But you weren't.

Four years later, you feel like you're falling back into it all over again—all the progress you've made, discarded within just a couple weeks.

You stare at yourself in the mirror and wish someone different stared back at you. You pinch at the skin on your thighs, stomach, and arms and wish the fat would disappear.

You sob silently. How can someone hate themselves so much, How couldn't you hate yourself so much, Y/n? Look at you, just look at you! You're lucky matt even stays. Thoughts circle around your head like a halo. Leaving you in nothing but shatters.

You walk to the toilet, shove a finger down your throat, and gag

The cycle begins.

Two weeks later, you walk into your kitchen to find Matt standing there. "Good morning, angel, I'm making pancakes. How many do you want." The thought of putting food in your mouth makes you sick. "Um, Matt, I'm not hungry." Matt frowns. "You love my pancakes, baby, what's the matter?" you shuffle through your brain, thinking of an excuse. "I'm full from last night, Y'know, the pizza." You, Matt, nick, and Chris had had a movie night. The boys ordered pizza and snuggled up on the couch as you all giggled.

"I watched you the whole night, Y/n, I didn't see you take a single slice," he says, flipping a pancake. "In fact i haven't seen you eat much at all lately, You alright?" Eat? How can he suggest such a thing? doesn't he want me to be pretty? i wanna be good enough to wear a bikini. I wanna be good enough to wear skin tight dresses, i wanna be good enough for him.

You shake away these thoughts trying your best to keep your composure. "I'm good, just give me one okay?" you say letting out a sigh. He smiles "Comin' right up princess" He hands you a plate with a pancake, syrup, whipped cream and some strawberries. Matt has already started digging into his own plate.

just a few bites Y/n, just let Matt think you're okay

You pick up your fork and knife with shaky hands, cut yourself a piece and quickly shove it it your mouth. Your body wants to immediately reject it, but you take a few more bites.

As soon as you swallow your first bite, it flies back up your throat. You get up and run to the bathroom. Matt follows you with concern. "Are my pancakes that bad?" he says, running after you. But as he walks into the bathroom. He notices how frail you've become. Tears are running down your eyes, and he finally realizes. You finish puking and flush the toilet and lean against the wall, almost lifelessly.

A few tears escape Matt's eyes. How could he be so stupid? how didn't he put it together? It was so obvious. He could've helped you. Why would you do this?

He runs out of the bathroom to get a glass of cold water, then quickly comes back to hold you. The only thing that could escape from his mouth was "Why"? "Just look at me, Matt, I hate it, I hate my body so fucking much, Matt, you don't even understand," you say, trying your best to yell, tears running down your face.

Matt is completely taken aback "But you're so beautiful, baby, You're hurting yourself. You were doing so good." You sob in Matt's arms, barely able to speak. "I-I'm sorry, Matt. I just wanted to be pretty." Your words felt like a knife in Matt's stomach.

''I tried so hard to fight it, Matt, I didn't want to go down this path again. I promised you I wouldn't. The words spill out like vomit, "But I did it anyway, Matty." You whine, "And it's worse than before. I'm so ashamed Matt. I'm sorry i'm putting you through this" Tears rush you your face, and you're shaking uncontrollably. The knife in Matts stomach only gets pushed deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry i never noticed Y/n, i'm so fucking stupid. The signs were so clear, i could've helped you." He wipes the tears off your cheeks. "But i'm gonna help you now baby." "I can't Matt" "we're gonna do it together okay? Step by step, Y/n. We'll be just fine"

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[sentofight]

Of course, she has pictures with them but not with him. pouts. pouts.

[tender-rosiey]

MY DEAR AND BEAUTIFUL ROSE<3. I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to ask about my husband (Sukuka cough cough) a scenario where the husband Sukuna saves the reader from the enemy, or someone tries to kidnap and hurt his wife! you write Sukuna's feelings so beautifully <3

fools' sentence — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: bro you're too kind ilysm; I really hope you like this too <3

if only you listened to that rude servant about not going out of the castle.

it’s a bitter thought really, but you just couldn’t let your pride be scarred by somebody who doesn’t even speak to you in a minimal amount of respect.

so, in a way, you’re okay with dying a proud queen who doesn’t let anybody disrespect her.

“oh, we are going to have so much fun with you, and that monstrous husband of yours will just see your mutilated body after we’re done with you,” the guy grins devilishly. you back up slightly.

okay, so maybe, you don’t want to die just yet.

“that impudent woman! she disobeyed me, and now, we are stuck looking for her, so we can find her before sukuna returns!” the servant complains loudly while walking the halls of the castle.

“and who is that impudent woman you speak of? surely, it isn’t my wife you’re addressing in such a manner,” a voice—a very distinct and well-known one—says from behind the servant.

only then does she realize the shadow that suddenly was casted from above her.

she quickly falls to her knees and starts stuttering out her apologies and excuses, “o-of course not, my lord! how could I ever speak ill of the lady of the castle! her presence is to be respected, naturally!”

after she is done, she lets silence fill the room. assuming that sukuna has believed her, she lets out a sigh of relief, and her body relaxes ever so slightly.

however, an ear-piercing scream is ripped out of her throat when sukuna steps on her foot, so roughly that it breaks.

sukuna groans, annoyed at the incessant scream and wailing of the lady, and he throws a question, “where is your queen?”

the woman keeps on sobbing but tries to speak out nonetheless, “s—she, she,” she hiccups, but sukuna has no time to listen to her bellow.

“faster! where is she?”

she buries her face in the ground to quieten her sobs, but she doesn’t get the chance to respond to him when uraume appears out of thin air.

they kneel to the ground and speak humbly, “my lord, lady y/n has been taken as a hostage by a group of sorcerers.”

sukuna eyes’ widen, and he frowns.

he quickly turns to leave but not before making a command, “uraume, every servant who was careless and caused her disappearance is to be beheaded immediately.”

you thank god for men being prideful creatures who love speaking about themselves. you only asked them once about their accomplishments and raids, and they never stopped talking.

with a couple of positive encouragements from you, they talked and talked till the sun went down.

the doors of the room you’re trapped in slams open, and a fearful boy screams out, “sukuna—sukuna is here!”

“what?!” they all snap, and you grin. finally, you were going to be freed from this cage.

unfortunately, one of the men notices your beaming expression. his face contorts, livid, and he quickly fists your hair in his hand. you let out a scream, but he slams you against the wall.

he shouts, “shut up! you’re the one that lured him here! you stalled till he could find you! you wretched woman!”

“are you stupid?! you take his wife, and you expect him to stand idly by?!” you reply, voice hoarse, and unable to accept taking what he said lying down.

you can’t, however, control the dizziness that hits you, and you can feel blood trickling down your nose.

the only thing that comforts you is the sound of slashes and the calling of your name by your darling husband.

you smirk at the man above you and whisper, “ever saw sukuna in action?”

the man grits his teeth and before he throws a punch at your face, the door flies and gets crushed into pieces. the man quickly throws you away, so he can focus all his energy on sukuna.

but, sukuna instead moves to be right by your side and shields you from the ground.

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you a bit closer.

his eyes carefully scan you; he clenches his jaw at the sight of the blood. he carefully wipes it and moves your face towards him with one of his hands. he speaks up, “you alive?”

“don’t you ignore me, sukuna—” the man sneers, but he is quickly silenced. he sees his tongue flying to the ground. the sight scares him to the core, he starts screaming—or his attempt at one.

his knees feel weak, and he falls to the ground. his blood pools slowly on the ground.

sukuna shifts your focus back to him again, and you respond slowly, “alive and kicking,” raising a thumbs up. he nods and gently lays you down on the ground.

you wince a little and complain lightly, “this place is dusty.”

he hums, “wait a second.”

your husband rises to his feet and turns to the man. sukuna approaches the man, taking his time with each step. anger swirls violently inside of him, and his eyes looked down sharply at the man.

the sorcerer quivers and covers his mouth; he quickly backs up to the wall. he sukuna scoffs, “you’re still annoying even after taking your tongue out?”

the man’s pride almost causes him to retort back with a yell of his own.

but then sukuna snatches him up by the hair and stares him right in the eyes, “for every strand of hair you’ve touched on her head, I will make you bellow in pain till your vocal chords are ripped into shreds.”

you groan and stir lightly. you slowly open your eyes and examine your surroundings. you’re back in the castle; you smile and relax back into your pillow.

“so you’ve finally awaken?”

you turn to your husband with a grin, “hey handsome.”

“why did you leave the castle?”

straight to the point. you prop yourself up on the pillow and sit up. you look at him then look away, “it’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

“not your first,” he responds, and you pointedly ignore him.

“I wanted to greet you before you arrived at the gate,” you murmur then quip, “but I didn’t even go beyond the fence! I was still in the area!”

he listens quietly and sits beside you. he pulls you against his chest, “you do not need to do anything like that.”

you look up at him with a small smile and he finds himself letting out a small breath—of fondness?—he closes his eyes and speaks in absolute manner, “you should know that I will always come for you.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will write your name on the list I give to sylus

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]

chan ✉

arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.

then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 

"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."

"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 

"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."

eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.

minho ✉ 

fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.

"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.

"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.

"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.

"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.

"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.

changbin ✉ 

it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.

"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.

"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."

he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 

"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.

"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.

hyunjin ✉

as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 

"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.

"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 

"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."

"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 

[slttygeto]

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR?

⤷ THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY. | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴synopsis: your boyfriend was made to be the center of attention, to receive so much love--not to deal with your sadness like it was his.

જ⁀➴content warning: fem!reader, angst, reader is a little insecure, just v sad, satoru best boy.

જ⁀➴ word count: 0,8k.

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

my boyfriend is so cool

that was always your thought when you went out with him for dinner. he’d invite a bunch of his friends along with their partners, and you’d spend the rest of the night chatting and laughing. you noticed how suguru was always the center of attention, even if he didn’t want to be. his best friend was equally magnetic. like a moth to a flame, they would both shine so bright.

and you’re suguru’s girlfriend. his pretty girl whom he met in college and has been with ever since. three years down the road, and many more to come, as he liked to say. you liked to believe that you and suguru were meant to be together, a match made in heaven. despite your different personalities and approach in life, you always managed to find a way to make it work.

always.

tonight, dinner tasted a little weird on your tongue. you’re sure it’s just you because everyone else seems to be enjoying their food just fine. no one seems to notice the way you scrunch up your face after the first bite, slowly setting the fork down and flashing suguru a polite smile, to which he immediately asks

“are you okay?”

am I okay? you’re not sure if you are, but you nod anyway. you squeeze his shoulder and motion at a friend who was talking to him, asking him to focus on the conversation.

you hated feeling like this. you could feel your stomach hurt, and your heart sinks a little as you try your best to fight back the insecurities. why were they resurfacing at such a time?

you weren’t supposed to feel this way. you’ve talked about this before with suguru, and he reassured you many times that he was dating you because he loved you. even three years later, you still can’t find it in you to tell him that it seems like he deserves better.

not someone who cries when they look in the mirror, or deflate throughout the day for no absolute reason. suguru deserved someone who takes care of him, not a person who is constantly so sad.

you excuse yourself from the table you’re sitting at, muttering to your boyfriend some lame excuse about how you need to fix your makeup. truth be told, if you had stayed at that table any longer, you would’ve thrown up the food and made a mess.

you walk inside the bathroom and as dramatic as it may seem, you lean against the door and let out a sob. it’s quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear you. but then it gets louder and louder until you turn on the faucet to try to drown out the sound of your cries.

this is so stupid.

you’re trying to wipe your makeup, even if it seems a little impossible to fix it right now (but you somehow manage). you’ve been in the bathroom for about 7 minutes now, and you know that if you stay there any longer, suguru would come looking for you.

you step out of the bathroom when you’re sure you look presentable and bump into a strong chest. your heart stills.

please don’t let it be—

“are you okay?” thank god, it was satoru.

you’ve known him ever since you met your boyfriend, and he’s been one of the most reliable friends ever. he was nice, kind, a little cocky but given his looks and fortune, he had a lot to brag about.

“oh, yeah. my stomach was a little upset, come on let’s go—“ you’re avoiding his eyes, but satoru can tell from your swollen lips that something else happened.

“you were crying, weren’t you?” his eyebrows are pinched, and you fight back tears when you look up at him and see the concerned look on his face.

“please, don’t tell suguru.” your voice cracks when you say his name, and satoru’s face morphs into one of confusion.

“but–“

“satoru, please. it’s not what he’s made for.”  

it’s not what he’s made for.

satoru’s lips part in shock, but he can feel his heart clenching a little at your words. he doesn’t know what to tell you, his mind is blank as he stares down at you with icy blue eyes.

“okay then, let’s go back,” he doesn’t press it, slowly leads the way back to your table and you’re immediately overflown with questions from suguru.

“are you okay? is it your stomach? we can get you meds–“

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him with a warm hand on top of his, but the look on his face tells you that he doesn’t believe you. not one bit.

but suguru doesn’t have to know that you’re not okay. after all, he does deserve better and you’re getting in the way of that. 

⤷ the song absolutely destroyed me, so i had to write something.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Prince Charming

req: Can i request dad!jj x mom!reader when she breastfeeding in public BC I geniusly want to know how he would react, possessive ? goofy ?

Warnings: breastfeeding, DAMN KARENS, protective jj <33, dad!jayj, fluff

“Aw shit.” He grumbled when she started to sob in line, everyone turning to look at them. “What? Never heard a baby cry before?” He told them, you hitting his shoulder. But it worked, they all turned back around, embarrassed that the Maybank boy would call them out.

You sighed, picking her up, and checking her diaper real quick. That wasn’t the problem. So you started to cradle her, shushing her gently and rocking her in your arms. Her sobs still hadn’t quieted. You glanced around the cafe, turning back to JJ.

“Go sit down.” He shrugged, leaning down to the baby in your arms, tickling her and making a funny face in attempt to make her smile or laugh.

It made her laugh for a moment, but when he stopped, her sobs were right back. You gave him a small smile, as a thank you for the attempt.

“I got it. I remember your order. It’s a-“

“I know you do.” You giggled, shaking your head at the boy and grabbing the stroller with one hand , walking to the nearest corner as quickly as you could.

You sat her down in your lap, and began to look for anything to cover yourself, since your baby hated the nursing cover. You couldn’t find anything and she had began to tug on your shirt, so you huffed and just pulled it up, not caring at this point.

JJ came back with your drinks and food rather quick, sitting next to you, giving you a small smile and setting it onto the table.

Your baby latched onto your nipple, and you already knew people would be staring. They always did.

JJ glanced around, scooting closer to you when he noticed a specific man staring a little too concentrated. JJ glared at the man, making direct eye contact with him.

The man turned away, swallowing the lump in his throat. JJ smiled victoriously, turning back to you. That’s when he noticed more stares, from younger kids and others, who you could care less about.

“These fucking people need to mind their business.” He grumbled out, sipping on the coffee he had in front of him.

“They always stare.” You shrugged. “I give up on caring at this point.”

“It’s like they’ve never seen a pair of tits in their life.” He snorted, you turning to face him and raising your eyebrow at him.

“What? I’m just saying the truth.” He murmured, putting an arm on your chair and around you.

“Sometimes I wonder how I let myself get knocked up by you.”

“Fair enough.” He tilted his head to the side. Everything was fine for a little. You were drinking your water, Jj was content with drinking his coffee, rambling on, and she was still drinking your milk. That was until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You both turned, looking at the older woman who stared down at you. You knew when she had a Karen haircut, that she would be saying some shit.

“Uhm, excuse me. That is extremely inappropriate, and you shouldn’t be doing it in a public place.”

JJ had a scowl on his face at her words, you looking at the woman confused and anger beginning to bubble in your stomach.

“I’m sorry?” You scoffed, glancing down at your baby.

“My husband is at the table, and we both find it difficult to eat when we’re distracted by…” she motioned to your baby with her hands.

You had to laugh. You laughed in her face, her making a disgusted face.

“Yeah, I think your husband is distracted for a different reason, lady.” JJ glanced at the man sitting at the table. He waved, the man staring at him. “I know, she’s got tits, crazy, woo fucking hoo. Can you leave us alone?” He exclaimed.

“It is disgusting, why not go into the bathroom or something and do… that?”

You were going to open your mouth before JJ spoke for you.

“Oh my god, mind your business. The baby’s hungry, why is that so weird and disgusting? It’s not.”

She huffed, immediately going over to the workers, demanding a manager. JJ scoffed, pulling you both closer towards him, glancing at the lady’s husband.

“Your girlfriend could be a bit more… modest.” He spoke.

“And you could go fuck yourself.” JJ retorted before turning back to you.

“Thank you.” You murmured to him.

“Don’t thank me. Gotta keep my girls safe, don’t I?”

“Oh, Prince Charming.” You retorted. “What would I do without you?”

“You would die without me.”

“I probably would.” You smiled, the manager walking over to your table, the woman standing next to him.

“What seems to be the problem?” He sighed out, not seeming so amused by the lady.

You shrugged, JJ just still glaring at the lady. “I’m just trying to feed her.” You murmured.

“She’s doing it in public! Where anyone- a child can see… all her stuff!”

JJ’s jaw tightened, the manager taking notice. “Okay- okay, can we, like, calm down?” He told the woman.

“Kick them out and then I will!”

JJ was struggling to keep his composure, you knew it. You turned to him, laying a hand on his arm and shaking your head.

“They’re not doing anything wrong.” The manager spoke to the lady. “There’s nothing I can do. But you’re causing a disruption, and I’m afraid if it continues, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” He told her, her face falling. She shook her head, grabbing her purse and stuff, then both leaning while shouting.

The manager sighed, going over to the table, wiping it down and picking up cups, stopping at your table again.

“Sorry about that. My wife used to breastfeed, and I can’t tell you how annoying it is when people like that exist.” He laughed, you smiling and laughing along. “How old is she?”

“6 months.” You smiled, glancing down at her before turning back to the man.

“That’s lovely. Miss them when they’re that young. Mines is 14 now.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You told him, he smiled and shrugged.

“Yeah.” You could just tell the fondness he had for them, in his eyes and the way he spoke. “Well, you two have a good day, alright?”

“You too.” JJ gave him a small smile, nodding his head, before turning back to you. You moved to unlatch her, once you felt like she had enough. JJ pulled down your shirt, and you sat her down and finally began to eat in peace.

“Oh my God.” He suddenly spoke, you turning to him with furrowed eyebrows. “What? What?” You asked him.

“I’m gonna teach her how to cuss at people.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. So when you don’t have me, your Prince Charming, you have her just going ‘fwuck you!’ It’s perfect.”

“Yeah, well, that’s if she doesn’t pick your sailors mouth before you can even teach her.”

“Hey, you cuss just as much as me, ma’am.”

“I’m not saying ‘fuck, shit, or piss’ every 20 minutes though.”

He thought for a moment, before nodding. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.”

[disneyprincemuke]

you called * cl16

you called, so he came.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: none.

notes: well, now i'm in the mood to write this bc i just found out my ex-boyfriend now has a girlfriend so i aM PULLING THIS OUT FROM THE DEEPEST PART OF MY SADNESS AND GUT

(i quit drinking) // (to forget you) // (you called)

charles wasn't actually going to come. when you called him, you were slurring and stumbling over your words about how you wanted to see him. he told you it wasn't a great idea until you started full-out sobbing on the phone about how much you missed him.

it was then shortly cut to max scolding you in the background. something about how he already told you not to call charles, but you still did. then max took the phone from you and told him off sternly that he better not show up.

yet, here you are in the passenger seat of his car, buckling your seatbelt on.

carmen was more than shocked to see him at max's front door, but max blew his head off when he walked by and caught a glimpse of him.

but you managed to convince him to let you go, promising the man that you would send him a text message when you got back to your hotel.

"thank you for coming," you say barely above a whisper. your eyes are set on straight the car parked in front of his.

he sees your thumbs fumbling with one another. "of course," he answers, "you called."

you turn your head to the window, completely away from him. being in this car only brought back so many memories. you're a lot more sober than you were about 20 minutes ago, after you'd puked in the toilet after a quick sob.

being in this car gave you flashbacks to when you'd be driving around on the way to parties or the bar with the grid boys. it was in this car that he'd driven you around monte-carlo for your first date, ending up by the bay into a private yacht for dinner.

“but why?” you turn back to him, your doe eyes piercing into his. they’re slightly red from the crying, your makeup has been taken off (courtesy of max after you cried and puked), and your lips swollen. “why did you come?”

charles can’t find it in himself to start driving. he turns his head, avoiding your gaze. “i wanted to come see you.” and very softly, he adds, “i missed you.”

you freeze. you were expecting numerous types of responses but him admitting that he missed you was not one of them.

“what?” there's an expression on your face that he cannot fathom at all.

"i said i missed you," he says slower. though, with most of your relationship spent in the presence of alcohol, he knows pretty well that you're not even drunk anymore. you're just using it as an excuse,.

you stare at him, mouth gaping wordlessly at him. you scoff audibly and click your tongue. "you miss me?" you shriek, eyebrows furrowing at his confession. “you miss me? are you fucking serious right now, charles?”

“yeah?” he raises an eyebrow, genuinely not knowing how to respond to you.

"charles, we broke up." there's a sadness in your eye that made his chest ache. he knows very well that you did, in fact, break up.

"why are you saying that like it was a one-sided thing? you also agreed it's better off we just part ways." charles' growing frustration is very evident on his face, and it's still clear to you. "i didn't break up with you."

you still know when he's slowly getting irritated, or which expressions told you what's on his mind.

"because i saw you!" you throw your head back, running your hands through your hair as you tug on them roughly. "i watched you distance yourself from me, charles! the way you withdrew in the last couple of days we spent together, and apart. you called lesser, you stopped inviting me to your parties with friends, and you couldn't even look me in the eye anymore."

charles had no idea that this was what went through your mind. to him, he stopped inviting you to parties because he valued the fact that you hated waking up in the morning with a hangover. you had mentioned that it made getting up so much harder.

he started calling you lesser when you were apart because he was just simply busy. but, he did send you messages that he thought were enough to reassure you of the state of your fresh relationship.

not being able to look you in the eye had a simple explanation - he's fallen in love with you and has been afraid to admit it. after you spent a week apart busy with different projects and workload, he had picked you up from the airport for a race weekend and he felt it in his chest. he was just afraid to say it out loud for the fear that you would be too overwhelmed.

"that's not true." charles shakes his head. he turns his body away from you, looking ahead.

"then what's the truth?" you probe, lifting your shoulders to edge him for an answer. there is no way that you spent your days sulking over a man who missed you but never reached out.

but who are you to speak? you didn't either.

charles opens his mouth but quickly closes it. he shakes his head again. he contemplates the risk of saying it to you. you'd called him drunk, not expecting him to even pick up; it should be his turn to risk his feelings and possible embarrassment.

"i got scared," he says slowly, turning his head to look at you, "because i realised i love you. but i was just so scared to tell you. don't ask me why. i wanted to have you without the alcohol, that's why i didn't ask you out anymore."

"you can't just lie your way out of this, charles!" you scold with the roll of your eyes.

he rolls his eyes, finally starting up the car for a drive. "i'm going to drive you home now."

"yeah, maybe you should." you fold your arms over your chest and turn your head towards the window. your hotel isn't far, but it's quite a drive.

charles didn't even have the time to turn some music on, so you had sat in his car together in silence. the sound of the engine is the only thing that occupies the deafening stillness in the air.

you'd spent days locking yourself away, the thoughts of charles hopping on to someone else eating hours of your day away, taking up most of your breath as you'd sit on the floor crying with your cat in your arms.

to the point your mother had to remind you that charles is just a boy.

"do you mean it?" you break the silence as he turns into the lobby of the hotel. your eyes are glued to the window still with tears filling it to the brim.

you hear him sigh then shift in his seat. "of course, i do. i spent every waking moment of the past 6 weeks thinking of you and missing you. i hated every second i spent without you," he rambles. he takes a deep breath as the car comes to a slow stop. "i should have called you. i'm sorry."

you press your lips together. you turn to face him, but his stare is right ahead as he chews on the inside of his cheek. "i didn't think you liked me without the alcohol. i'm not as fun without it."

charles turns quickly to face you, instinctively grabbing your hands into his. "don't even say that," he pouts his lips out, "you are an even better person without it. please don't say that."

you close your eyes, knowing you might regret the decision in the morning. you open them and meet his blue eyes, a small smile stretching your lips.

what's the worst that could happen? if he meant his words, everything should be alright.

"do you want to have some coffee upstairs?"

you see relief wash over his face. with a deep breath, he exhales, his body melts into his car seat. he leans his head on his headrest. "as long as you promise me there's no alcohol."

[mustainegf]

OK SO UHH

‘04 (optional) JAMES HAS A BREAKDOWN/PANIC ATTACK IN FRONT OF READER CUZ HE DOESNT THINK HES ENOUGH FOR HER AND UHHH SHE COMFORTS HIM AND THEY FUCK IN LOTUS POSITION 😻😻😻Jaymz pov would be really cool but either way is fine :D

I’ve been thinking abt this all day while at work and omg 😭

I LOOOOVVVE PASSIONATE STUFF ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

Based this around the SKOM era

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 ²⁰⁰²

I sat at the edge of the bed in my hotel room, staring down through the floor to nowhere in particular. My chest was tight, squeezed by an invisible hand that tightened with each breath.

The world outside, claustrophobic. My own breathing echoed through my ears, jaded.

The documentary crew left a few hours ago. Their equipment was packed away, and their annoying chatter began to fade in my mind. They were here to capture the making of our new album, aka, the Metallica therapy session.

But what I felt was exposed, to be laid for everyone to see. The cameras never lie: they catch every bit of frustration, stumble, and every drink. Oh God, Oh fuck, the drinking.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sweat on my palm. Everything was uncomfortable. My heart thumped as my thoughts scattered.

The rehab had helped, at least a little. I felt like such a fake. Like I wasn't enough for the band or the fans, especially her. For anyone.

She is my everything, my beautiful girl. But even rocks erode under constant waves. I knew that I was tugging her down, dragging a weight she didn't deserve to carry.

I heard the door of our suite open and close softly. Footsteps drew closer, but I still could not relieve myself from looking up. A tingling sensation on my skin told me she was there before I saw her. Then she knelt beside me; her eyes searched mine.

"James?" Her voice was soft, concerned. "What's going on, Honey?"

I swallowed hard, trying to find words. My throat was dry, my tongue felt thick. I shook my head. I couldn't talk. The tears started pouring, and I clenched my fists, trying to hold them back. But it was too much. The dam was broken and the words were falling out.

"I can't do this," I choked out. "I can't be what everyone wants me to be. I am a mess. I'm… I'm awful. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man."

Her eyes widened, and she reached to touch my arm, though I drew back, standing abruptly. The room spun. I gripped the back of the chair to steady myself. "I'm failing, at everything. The band, the album, rehab… you. I'm failing you."

"James, no…" She got to her feet, and again she reached out for me, but I stepped back again, shaking my head.

"I'm a fake," I said, yelling now. "Everyone believes I am this… this badass metal guy, but I am just some broken little boy. I can't take this. I can't take all of this!"

"James, please…" She took a step closer. I did not hear her. The blood pounded in my ears, my vision blurring with tears. I went down on my knees, clasping my head and trying to block out the noise in my head, the voices telling me what a piece of rubbish I was.

"I'm not enough!" I growled out, my voice cracking. "I'm not enough for anyone!"

She knelt down next to me with her arms wrapped around me. I pushed at her, but she grasped me tightly with all her might. "Shhh, James. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

Her words were trying to get to me, but I was drowning too deep to grab the hold of it. My body was wracked with sobs, and I couldn't smother them. I was shaking, my whole body trembling. "I'm so sorry," I gasped. "I'm so, so sorry."

"James, look at me," she said, her voice level and low. “Honey, look at me.” She gently took my chin in her hand, forcing me to meet her eye. "You are not a failure. You aren't worthless. You're human. You're allowed to struggle. And you are a good man."

I shook my head as the tears streamed down my face. "I'm not enough," I whispered. "I'll never be enough."

"Yes, you are," she said firmly. "You're more than enough. For me, for the band, for the everyone. You're more than enough, James. And it's okay to need help. It's okay to be vulnerable."

I collapsed against her, my head on her shoulder, the sobs coming harder now. She rocked me back and forth gently, stroking my hair. "It's okay, James. Let it out. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She held me close, whispering reassurances and rocking me back and forth like some child. "I love you," she said softly, "and I'm here."

The panic began to subside, the clench in my chest loosening. My breathing began to slow down, my sobs turning to whimpers. She was here, believing in me where I couldn't believe in myself.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered again, my voice hoarse.

"Don't be sorry, Honey," she said, pressing her lips on my forehead. "Just be here with me. Just breathe.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and letting her hold me. She looked down at me with a mix of compassion and tenderness in her eyes. Her voice came in low, "I want to distract you… make you feel better. You’ve been way too tense, James."

I turned my head, feeling my reluctance shower over me. "I don't think that would be such a good idea," I grumbled, scrubbing at the remaining squiggles of tears with the back of my hand.

The very last thing I wanted was to burden her, to drag her down into my darkness.

She tipped her head back onto its side, her eyes held mine. "What's there for me to do, James? What do you need?”

I fumbled for words as my mind was nothing but an incoherent jumble. "I… I don't know," I said awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

That wasn't the whole truth, though admitting what I really wanted was impossible. I looked away, twitching at my fingers nervously.

She saw right through me, curling her lips into a knowing smile. She reached out and brushed her fingers very lightly down my cheek. "You wanna have sex, don't you?" she asked, laughing softly.

I felt my face flushing, and I stuttered, "I… I mean…" My voice faded away. I couldn't stand the look in her eyes.

The truth is that it did cross my mind, a desperate reach for something or anything that would connect me to her.

She cupped my face in her hands, turning it gently so I had no choice but to look at her. "James, it's okay," she said, her voice soothing. "It's okay to want to be comforted. There's nothing wrong with that."

I studied her face for any sense of pity or frustration, but there was only love. I let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I… I guess I do," I said barely above a whisper. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to, honey.”

She shook her head, silencing me with a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. "I want to, James," she mumbled against my lips. "I want to be close to you. Help you feel better."

So I reached up, my hand trembling, and cupped her cheek, moving my lips to love hers.

Her fingers tangled in my hair as she pulled me closer. Her lips were exceedingly warm, they seemed to press into my bones.

Backward on the bed, her body covered mine, pinning me in, to the present.

For some time then, we lost ourselves. It wasn't about the physical act, it's about comfort, this woman who I loved more than life. Every touch, every kiss said she was right by my side.

We slid into movement, our bodies quickening to a pace both remembered and totally new. She shifted again, sitting in my lap with her legs around my sides, intertwined. The position pushed us closer, our bodies were pressed so intimately bare, our faces inches apart.

“You doing okay?” She whispered, hovering over my erection. The dark of the night bathed her beautiful face, the sapphire sky leaking in through the wonder and making her look that much more stunning.

Her breath on my lips, her heartbeat against my chest, it was the most intimate kind of position. “Yeah… I’m okay.”

I gently held her, staring into her eyes as she sank down onto me. Tho both of us groaned in unison, and she made sure to keep a good grip on my shoulders.

We began to move, our bodies finding a slow, gentle thrust. It wasn't about getting somewhere fast, it was about connection, feeling each other fully. Every movement was done with forethought, every touch meaningful.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers threading through my delicate hairs on my nape as I held her close, my hands on her back. I could feel her forehead against mine as we sat like that.

"James," she whispered lowly, a hundred different kinds of love in her voice. "You feel s-so good."

"You too," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. "God, I love you so much.

She smiled, soft, radiant, and kissed me once more. "I love you t-too. So much."

It was the most intimate thing, the most loving experience I ever had. Every touch, every kiss, every single movement.

"Look at me," she whispered, her eyes locking on mine. "I want to see you."

I nodded, holding her gaze. "I'm here. I'm with you."

She smiled, shining her eyes with love at me. "Stay with me."

"I will," I vowed, choked with emotion. "Always."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice rough with emotion. "More than anything."

It wasn't about how fast I came, it was more about the feeling of every second.

"I'm close," she whispered, her voice trembling with her pleads. "James, I'm so close."

"Me, too," I rumbled, my own voice harsh with emotion. "God, you feel so good..."

She smiled again then, a beautiful, euphoric smile, and kissed me once more. "Stay with me," she whispered. "Cum with me."

"Always," I promised. "Always."

Finally, I twitched and stilled as she moaned her release. I held her so tight, bucking slightly as I came. I let out a rough breath, trying to catch up with myself as I felt her fill with my seed.

We lay that way, our bodies knotted, our hearts wrestling each other from inside our chests.

"Thank you," I whispered, burying my face in her warm neck, leaving kisses.

[mikedfaist]

can we get more pregnant!reader??? like when she’s actually going into labor and he takes her to the hospital? supportive sweetie mike is my favorite

Mike took the classes. He read the books. He sought insight from his friends who have already ventured down this path before. The hospital bag was ready. The nursery was complete – alongside a crib he did indeed decide to build. He was ready for fatherhood. Frankly, he welcomed it with open arms. He already loved his little girl so much that he couldn’t imagine that love growing anymore than it already is. How is that even possible?

When those first real contractions hit in the middle of the night – much different than the “practice” ones from before – your first instinct isn’t to wake up Mike. No, you let him sleep. You scamper into the kitchen, lay down on the couch and turn on Modern Family. They weren’t far enough apart yet. No point in going to the hospital. No point in waking up your boyfriend. Until your water breaks, you are going to relax as much as you can until the pain permeates to the point of surrender.

You don’t have to wake him up though, because that boy senses your absent presence, and goes looking for you. It wasn’t unusual to find you in the kitchen in the middle of the night; when a craving calls, it calls. This time though, he caught you in the middle of a contraction. Not unbearable – you were even able to talk through it, but he saw it in your eyes. Less than a minute, and it was over.

When you told him you’ve been having contractions for the last hour, you might as well have told him you joined a cult.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He was aghast.

“There’s no point right now! Can’t even go to the hospital. This could last for hours, Michael. Hours. Maybe in the morning something worth telling you about will happen.” You didn’t mean it in a bad way. Obviously, anything that happens in this pregnancy he wants to know about. To you, this was nothing. If the contractions weren’t five minutes apart, then why bother? “Go back to sleep, okay? Get your rest while you can.”

“You really think I can just go back to sleep when you’re in labor?”

“Early labor, it barely counts.”

“It does count.”

“When my water breaks, then I’ll bother you with my problems. But for now, I’m chillin’.”

By morning, seven hours later, things had progressed enough for you to roll over onto your side and shake your boyfriend awake.

“It fucking hurts.”

“It’s just early labor, babe, it barely counts.”

“I will break up with you—do not test me right now.”

It wasn’t until the afternoon when your water broke in the middle of the kitchen as he was making you grilled cheese. (You made him finish the grilled cheese before leaving). Once at the hospital, he fed you ice chips, massaged your back, kissed your forehead, and let you fracture each of his fingers. He did nearly pass out when you got your epidural, and again when you did eventually give birth. His excuse was he had forgotten to eat because he was so focused on you, but you remember how white he got watching a real birth video in preparation for this moment.

Once you begin pushing, he’s beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, letting you squeeze his hand until it’s purple. He’s so gentle with his encouragements, whispering it in your ear and kissing your temple. He can’t put into words how amazed he is with you in this moment. He thought he loved you before, but that love has grown exponentially. You not only grew and protected their child, but you were putting yourself through hell to bring her into this world. It’s something he’ll never know firsthand, and he knows he’ll never be able to look at you the same way from now on. You really were the most incredible woman he has ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When they hear that first cry, he nearly breaks into sobs. All those months of waiting, and being very impatient about it, have finally come to an end, and his baby girl is right there. She’s so tiny—how is she so tiny? How is she so tiny but expelling a cry so loud and raucous?

“She has a set of lungs on her, for sure.”

When they set her on your chest, she instantly quietens. She knows that’s her momma. Mike has to cover his mouth to control his cries. None of the books taught him how to handle the moment he meets his baby girl for the first time. He leans over and caresses his finger over her hand—holy fuck it’s so tiny! Instinctively, she grabs his finger, and refuses to let go. There’s nothing quite as strong as a baby’s grip.

He loses count of how many times he tells you he loves you. A million times wouldn’t even be enough.

[motherraid]

ABSOLUTELY NOT DONE WITH MY SEBEK THIRST AND I TRULY NEED TO SPEAK ON THIS.

Sebek x AFAB!reader nsfw below the cut:

((Tw: somno(?) Dubcon(?) A bit of bullying and mean names/big boy words/pervy Sebek/dumbification? Maybe? I think?/and ooc sebek maybe im not sure))

We see so much Sebek as either the completely subby pillow prince or a sebek that's SO dominant he's like some mafia boss in a wattpad fanfic? It's all wonderful, don't get me wrong. But is that ALL we wanna reduce sebek to? D:

I absolutely CAN see and DO see most times where he's just subby and whimpering and crying, and it IS accurate, but it's not ALL that could happen! We need to start changing! it! up!! He's still Sebek for crying out loud! He'll end up having you crying and spaced out on his cock regardless of how bad you wanna ruin him.

Hear me out, pervy Sebek.

Okay, maybe when you aren't together yet he's mean and snarky, referring to you as "human" and pretending to hate your guts like always, but he'll still try to find excuses to perv on you!!!!! He's so enraptured that he can't help it.

Sebek's so needy that accidentally grazing your hand too high up his arm is a sin you need to repent for it with your pussy. You'd find yourself stuffed in an old broom closet or empty classroom in a heartbeat. He just can't take it anymore. He's already spreading your lips with two fingers and using his other hand to hold your hip in place, your ass squished firmly against the cold wall behind you and your skirt in a heap at your ankles. Who else have you been seducing while he wasn't around? He will not stand for your lecherous ways! He must protect his fellow classmates! The only way to do that is to make you cream on his tongue so many times that you can't think straight. Then, you'll be too tired to prey on any more poor, defenseless students at Night Raven College. Yank his hair, and that's another five minutes of him playing with your pretty cunt. Don't test him, harlot.

Your panties he'll be taking. Probably some lame excuse about your "punishment" for coming onto him like a shameless whore. But... We all know that by the time he gets back to his room in Diasomnia, he's soo horny from the anticipation. He wants to savor the moment, but before he can even pull his pants down he gets a whiff of you once he takes your panties out of his pocket. Now people can hear him mewling while he creams his pants through the walls.

"AND WHAT IF WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SEBEK THAT'S IN A RELATIONSHIP??!!! D:" I hear you ask (no one asked me anything. I'm delusional).

He still will not take no for an answer. He's not going easy on you just because you've won his heart. He is more gentle when initiating, but he still won't drop the "you need to be punished" bit. You've riled him up (you blinked in his general direction), and you have to take responsibility for your actions. He thinks, anyway... Everything is kinda fuzzy, so he can't really process the words coming out of his mouth right now. Sebek doesn't know whether he just cried that you're a horrible temptress or begged you to sit on his face.

Oh, and dont get me STARTED on the crocodile tears. Where's the Sebek that snivels with tears in his eyes while he's ramming his cock into you? Where's the Sebek that's so lost he disjointedly drawls into your shoulder about how you're so pretty and warm?? About how he can't stop himself? How you feel too good for him to stop??? Just one more round? Please?? Where's the Sebek that squeals and sobs when he's stuffed you with his cum for the umpteenth time?? Orgasm so intense his eyes cross and toes curl??? Nose buried in your hair and inhaling hard cause he can't get enough of your smell????? YOU'RE the one getting stuffed with his cock, bent and twisted every which way over any furniture or solid surface he can find at the time, so why is HE the one whining and moaning like a whore?

YES!! He is awkward and has no idea what he's doing, but after a while, he's so desperate he just.. Doesn't care. He's gets so erratic and clingy, and it's such whiplash from how proper and uptight he normally acts in public it's insane.

I need to see this boy's fae genes take over. I need to see this boy instinctively feel the need to have you bouncing on his dick all throughout your fertile window. His big dumb crocodile brain can't understand anything other than stuffing you full of his little hatchling(s).

And he would never curse at you once you two are together!! He'll only praise you. He'll tell you how much he loves you, how amazing you are, and how good you feel. He's got too much love to give, and he wants you to give him your love, too. So please sweet talk and praise him. He'll nut instantly. Even if it doesn't mean he'll stop slipping back into you after cumming all over the backs of your thighs. Praise him. Please?

He can't help it. He HAS to have you. It gets so bad he wants to start fucking you almost anywhere. Like a disgusting wild animal. Even if you WANT to take charge or ride him? He gets so carries away he just grabs your hips and snaps up into you over and over. Sorry babe, you can't tame the croc right now. Do you want to be in control? It's such a shame. Really is. Once you've riled him up enough, he goes into big dumb crocodile mode. And in big dumb crocodile mode he'll forget everything and fuck you like a fleshlight. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

But don't think YOU'RE the one being fucked stupid. This boy is a pile of mush on top of you!! He's mid hiccup, muttering how much he loves you into your ear, sobbing and slobbering onto the back of your neck. His jabbering is oddly sweet for someone bent over your ass, hips slamming yours so forcefully you're jerked forward with every thrust (or you WOULD be if his big ass wasn't smushing you into the mattress with his weight because he just DOESN'T have the strength to hold himself up with his arms or grab your hips right now. The most he can do is prop himself up on one elbow).

You're trapped underneath a giant who loves you so much he's unconsciously using you like a sex doll. After a certain point in time this boy's mind is so cloudy he's not even fucking you for your pleasure. He just can't stop. It feels too good and his hips are moving on their own and he's too far gone to consciously still them. He's so pathetic he can't even find your clit. His hand is just rubbing at the bottom of your tummy in circles on instinct, and he does NOT care to correct himself. You'll have to do that for him, sorry.

You can definitely tell that boy is half fae. His stamina is WELL beyond normal humans. Even now that you've blacked out, he still has yet to stop. In fact, he doesn't realize you're asleep. He's still crying about "one more round," "Just a bit more.. Please??" And, "A few more minutes." And best believe you're gonna help the damn boy. I mean, how are you REALLY going to refuse him now that you're asleep anyway??

Huh... Actually... Maybe he DOES know that you're asleep.. I don't think he'd be guiltily snapping pictures of your unaware face to jerk to later otherwise.

[slutforleeminho]

Finding you again • Bangchan

(angst, comfort)

"Why?" You screamed at the top of your lungs; the neighbors were probably filling a noise complaint at this very moment. "Tell. Me. Why."

Is this what couples do? Go to sleep feeling alone and cold because there is no one beside them to keep them warm? Eat their meals in silence, on the rare occasion you even ate together? Scream at each other until there's no more breath in their lungs? Pick a fight as soon as the person they're in love with walks through the door, barely having enough time to take their shoes off? Because that's what yours and Chans relationship is like.

"I'm really not in the mood for this right now, y/n. I'm tired and I haven't eaten or slept in the past twenty-four hours. I don't even know what you want from me. I bust my ass to make sure you have a roof over your head and food to eat and you treat me like this." He looked perfectly fine to you though, refreshed even.

"I treat you like this?" Your blood was boiling. " You treat me as if I don't even exist. You stay gone all day and night and when you do come home you barely even acknowledge my presence. It's like your annoyed I'm even here half the time." Tears pricked the back of your eyes, but you refused to cry right now.

"Because you always have something to nag about. I'm always working too much or I didn't do the dishes or take the trash out. It's always something with you, I can never just rest when I'm here. That's why I'm always at the studio-"

"Oh, cut the shit Chan. We both know you're not always at the studio." You interrupted him.

"What are you talking about?" He was starting to get visibly irritated with this whole conversation, but you didn't care. you were done pretending like this didn't bother you.

"I know your cheating on me." It was your first time saying it out loud, and boy did it have a bitter taste.

Chans whole demeanor changed, his face fell, and his shoulders tensed. "What?"

"I'm not an idiot Chris, if you aren't getting it from me, you're getting it from someone else. I mean c'mon it's so fucking obvious, you're gone all the time, and you haven't touched me in months," This time a stray tear fell down your cheek, a result of having these emotions stored away for weeks. "If you don't want me anymore just say it, don't torture me like this, I can't take it, I care for you too much." And then it all came crashing down on you at once, the possibility that you might lose him, you might lose the beautiful life the two of you used to share. The late-night movie marathons, the times you'd cook dinner together, laughing at the way he was terrible at chopping vegetables. The walks on the beach where he'd pick you up and pretend to throw you in the water, getting a kick out of the way you'd hold on to him for dear life. The times when he kissed you before leaving for work, and made love to you when he returned, telling you how much he missed you while he was away. How much he loved you.

The next thing you knew you were sobbing into your hands, letting go of everything you kept hidden for so long.

Chan stood there, eyes glued to the floor, mouth agape. You were too busy crying your eyes out to notice the tears escaping past his eye lids too. "Do you really think I'd do that to you?" His voice broke halfway through his sentence.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like I don't even know you." You whispered before finally wiping your tears away and raising your head to look at him. You were more than surprised to see his bottom lip quivering and his whole body shaking, in a silent cry. You didn't know how to react; you'd never seen him cry like this before. You wanted to lunge at him and hold him close, to take all his pain away and tell him everything would be okay, but he should be the one doing that for you, not the other way around.

"I'm so sorry," He sobbed. " I have no excuse to be so distant like this, but I'd never cheat on you. Like it or not, you're the only person in this world for me, and now knowing that you thought that was the reason I haven't been here hurts like hell, but I don't blame you, I don't even know why I've been like this, it's like I'm on autopilot, working until I fall asleep and do it all again the next day.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Anything would have been better than the silence."

"I don't know, baby." A broken cry leaving his lips, but the pet name warmed your heart, and you couldn't help yourself any longer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you than he has been in weeks. He immediately responded, hugging your torso and burying his face into your neck. If you had known he was feeling this way you wouldn't have sprung this whole thing on him the way that you did. "I just feel so numb, so I did the only thing I know how to do." Which was make music. Because that's what he did, poured every ounce of his emotions into the beats that he sewed together to make something beautiful. "I don't know what's wrong with me." You held him as he cried and explained how tired and confused he was as to why he couldn't feel anything. He had drained every last drop of himself into his work, that's why. He always put the members and fans first, inconveniencing himself every time someone asked him of something, picking up the other members and staffs slack just so they could meet their deadlines. He doesn't know how to pace himself; he goes, and goes, and goes until his body and his mind can't take it anymore. he can't feel anything because he's felt enough. He has nothing left to give.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. everything's going to be okay."

~

And so, for the next few months he was going to work on himself and rest, to regain what he once had. After that night you made him take a few days off from work so he could rest, in which he used the time to make up to you by making love to you several times a day. He set up a steady schedule for work, making sure he didn't stay any longer than nine to ten hours a day and taking the weekends off. He even stopped doing the things that the managers and staff were supposed to do, which resulted in them falling behind on many things, and made for a hectic couple of weeks. But in the long run people started to realize that Chris wasn't letting them use him as he was before, so they pulled their shit together and finally did their jobs correctly. This was the first time you've seen him so happy and comfortable in his own skin, and you hoped that it'd never end.

taglist: @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukis wife @seung-mine @sungprotector @favieeerrrr @soephiphanymain @z4ir3 @minnieslover

[sturniololoco]

My little cousin's (they can't use Tumblr) - can you do a SLS protective but like she got cheated on so they comfort her and talk to the boy (if you can't that's fine ik it's kinda weird they are weird)

Cheated On

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

SLS’s POV

I don’t know why I ever agreed to come to this party with, my boyfriend, Jack, especially if he’s my even going to hang out with me.

My brothers dropped me off at Matts house, after I promised that he would drop me off by 12 o’clock tonight. Little to my knowlage, Jackhad planned to go to a party.

Where there was drinking involved.

I’m only seventeen, and I’m not stupid enough to go and mess around with things that could get me into trouble.

Jack was the complete opposite.

As soon as we got there, he took his hand off my waist and found some of his friends, and a cooler.

I went ahead and stood in the corner, drinking a Pepsi in a solo cup. This went on for another hour and a half, but I didn’t mind. This gave me an excuse to people watch. And Jack was having a good time, so I didn’t want to ruin his fun.

But it was getting late.

I pulled out my phone, texting Jack that it was already 11:45, and I needed to get home.

About 10 minuets later, I got no response.

across the room, I saw Henry, one of Jack’s friends. I walk over to him, and pull him aside from his beer pong game. He looked mad until he realized it was me.

“Where’s Jack?!” I half yelled over the loud music, screaming, and talking.

“He’’s upstairs, dunno why though.” He’s slurred with blood shot eyes. I rolled my eyes and quickly made my way up the stairs.

Trying to find my way around this mansion was harder then I thought, but I checked all the rooms but the one in the back.

Tired of searching for Jack, who should have been with me in the first place, I harshly push the door open.

I found jack to say the least.

Sucking faces with our high school whore.

They both looked up. The girls face lit up in a fake smile as she or off hi lap and brushed past me, going back to the party, leaving Jack and I Alone.

I didn’t move. Just standing there, not. Knowing what to do. Jack stood, and made his way over to me, grabbing my wrist.

“Baby, I-“ I ripped my hand from his grasp, readjusted my purse, turned from him, and walked out the damn door. I could hear him trying to catch up with me as I walked downstairs, out the front door, and halfway down to the next block over.

My eyes were dry.

“Baby girl, would you just stop and listen for a second, It wasn’t what it looks like! I-“ he started to say, grabbing my shoulder and turning me around.

“Really? Because what I saw was you making out with a girl who wasn’t me, and that’s a pretty hard thing to mistake.”

Jack stood there, moving his mouth, but no sound came out.

But I wasn’t staying any longer to hear his excuse.

“Bye Jack.” I turned the corner and walked down the street. Jack must’ve finally got the message, because he didn’t other following me.

Then it hit me.

The pain.

Tears began to fall and my throat began to ache. I sat on the curb with my face in my hands and began to sob.

Once my breathing was somewhat controlled, I pullout my phone. To call Matt.

It wrung once before he picked up.

“You’re Late SLS/N.” He said when he picked up. Glancing at the clock, It read 12:08.

“I-I know, I’m sorry. I really need a ride.” I say, my voice cracking.

“SLS/N, are you okay? Why are you crying.” I could hear him standing up ad grabbin the keys, telling Chris and Nick to get in the car.

“MattI’m fine. I just need a ride. I’ll text you my locations.” I finished, hanging up the phone, before I break down again.

It’s not long before I see head lights and Matts car pull up. I quickly scramble into the backseat next to Nick. Matt begins to drive away.

“Hey what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Nick asks, rubbing my shoulder.

“Nothing.” I say, wanting to forget that this night ever happened. Wanting to forget what I saw when I walked into that bedroom.

“Really, because that mascara shit all over your face says something different.” Chris says, eyeing me through the rear view mirror. Matt is quick to slap him on the arm while still watching the road.

“SLS/N, you can’t just call me, past your cerfew, crying and looking like shit and expect me not to worry.” Matt says, not doing much of a better job than Chris.

At that I crumple into Nicks side. He pulls me o him while I cry, shushing me while I couch and cry onto his shirt.

-

We get home and we walk into the house. I held Nick’s hand, not wanting to be alone. Mat, Nick, and I all go in and sit on the couch. Chris goes to the bathroom, and comes back with a warm, damp rag. He neels in front of me and whiles the mascara streaks off my face.

“Goddamn, what is in this stuff?!” He says, still scrubbing my face, though a little bit harder. I laugh through my tears and sniffle, regaining my thoughts and ready to talk.

Chris sits on my other side, and they all await my answer to why I was so upset.

“Umm. I-I…Jack cheated on me.” I say blankly, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me again.

“Aw SLS/N.”Nick says giving me a hug, which I gladly accept. “Can I be honest?” He asks me.

I nod.

“He was a fucking douchebag and I hated him anyway.” He states, not breaking the hug. I giggle, squeezing him tighter.

While this was going on, Matt and Chris look at each other. Giving each other a knowing stare.

“Guys…?” I say.

“Hey!” Nick says, snapping them out of it. “Why don’t we have a little movie night to get the sprits back up. Hmm? That sound good?” I nod, standing up and going to get a drink and some candy from the fridge.

Nick’s POV

I waited for SLS/N to walk into the kitchen before I spoke.

“I’m fine with whatever you two do, but if you get arrested, I’m using your own money to bail you out.” I say.

Chris and Matt smile at this and get up, Matt grabbing his keys, and Chris starting to head to the car before SLS/N came back.

I hear the car pull out of the drive way, knowing that they’re on their way to Jacks house.

SLS/N’s POV

I walk back into the living room, only to see Nick, and no one else.

“Nicky? Where did the boys go?” I ask.

“I uh… I think they went to get some more candy. They said we could start the movie without them.” He says, patting the seat next to him for me to sit down. I grab a blanket from the basket in the corner and snuggle up with Nick.

Chris’s POV

Matt and I walk back into the house, me with bruised knuckles and Matt with a cracked lip.

In the living room, Nick and SLS/N are asleep, a show playing on the TV. Matt walks over and gives SLS/N a kiss on her head, then says,

“Im going to bed, Man. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gives me a half hug, then heads to his room.

I lay on the couch, scrolling through my phone, when I hear movement from the other side of the couch.

“Chris?” I hear SLS/N say in a sleepy voice, sitting up and rubbing her swollen eyes.

“hey kiddo. C’mere.” I say, opening my arms as she crawls over to me. She lays her head in the crook of my neck, and I rub her back. She sighs softly and falls back asleep. I kiss her in the head and drift to sleep myself.

-

Matt’s POV

I woke up around 630 today and went out in the living room to wake SLS/N up for school. She was laying on Chris, who was scrolling through his phone. She groaned when I told her we needed to go so I could drive her to school. -

Pulling into the school, I could tell she was getting nervous. I grab her hand and give it a little squeeze.

“hey, don’t worry about him. Everything’s gunna be fine.” I say. She nods, giving me a smile.

“Call me if you need anything.” She nodded again and leaned over to give me a quick kiss on the cheek, before getting out of the car and going into the building.

SLS/N’s POV

Walking into school, I immediately felt better, especially when I saw Jack with a black eye and a busted lip.

My brothers are crazy I thought to myself, shaking my head and smiling. I snapped a quick pic behind Jacks back and sent it to our siblings group chat, then went about my day.

Idk y this was so hard for me to write 😂 I fell like it sound corny! Keep at it with the requests tho!!!

[kombuuuu]

Saviour of Mine.

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“You want stitches, big boy.”

“You gonna' stay on top of me?”

“No, but I'll make it hurt real nice.”

warnings : a little jealousy, not enjoying the spiderciety, a tad angst, more medical stuff i don’t know shit abt, misunderstandings, creepy obsession by a teacher, it gets better at the end promise,

requested by @viozxe :3 my boy my love i love him (gatekept this image for like two weeks but i finally have somewhere to use it)

For a man so true to his word, Miles had a thing for flaking on you.

You hadn’t seen him in around six hours. The event he had fled from leaving you dressed in your nicest clothes, looking like a sweet mess surrounded by family members not your own. After the first forty or so minutes, you had politely excused yourself from his Mama Rio and Officer Jefferson — Who both insisted you refer to them by their first names — , and booked it out of there.

You'd assumed he'd ran off with his little spider-clique. Something you'd rather not join, considering your particular distain for the man in charge. Who so happened to have quite the distaste for you, also. Avoiding the mirage of spider people had been relatively easy thus far, with the multi-versal gaps and all. But when Gwen Stacy had started to come see Miles more often — You would have to either sit through the excruciating task of listening to them talk. Which involved a lot more intimate moments than you were comfortable with being witness too. Or leave whilst she was there, and presumably not talk to Miles for a few hours — or.. days. Depending on wether he ditched you for her or not.

Having your best friend, of which you had fallen infatuated too, try and get with another girl right on front of you, any time they were together? Not the most ideal of situations. So you went home.

—

You cradled the led pencil on your dominant hand, other tapping to the beat of the song playing through your headphones. Sweet R&B to soothe your woes, whilst you focused on the homework in front of you.

You grabbed the rubber, sighing in exasperation and starting to scrub at your page, getting a little too frustrated and tearing the flimsy paper in the process.

You stared at the tear for a moment before borderline yelling, a tearless sob escaping you before you dropped your head against your desk. Slumping down into a flopped position.

You had to complete this by Monday, you knew that. Mr. Warren was the nicest teacher at your school. He’d helped you when you parents couldn’t. Taken you in — you’d even told him about Miles. He didn’t seem to like him very much, said it was a shame they shared a first name. You thought it was a crazy coincidence.

You slowly slid off your chair, pushing it back on its wheels as you went until eventually you were rested lying on the ground, staring at the window of your room.

Golden light shone through your curtains in a bright calling, basically signalling your escape as it sung to you.

You stared for another solid minute before groaning, Mr. Warren could wait.

Avidly ignoring the ache in your chest at the thought of finding Miles with the current focus of his interest.

You crawled to your closet and reached for the handle, still on the floor — before remembering your Van Der Waals and just using the tip of your fingers to lazily pull it open.

You snorted at yourself, before shuffling through the box at the bottom of your closet and pulling out the sleek spider suit.

The next minute was spent trying to energetically shuffle on your suit, and get your adrenaline running. Which proved working when you were rather excited — or antsy — to swing your way around the city.

You closed your window behind you, crawling up your building and letting the cold air force you more awake.

You backed up, jumping a little hop as you did. Bouncing on your feet before you ran, leaping off your building in a refreshing spin.

An excited yelp left your mouth before you shot a web to the next building over, using the top of a bus on the bust Brooklyn streets to boost your momentum, gradually gaining speed as you swung through the city in a series of twists and flips. Graceful swinging amidst a series of fumbling and laughing to yourself, still somewhat new to the spider-person talents.

You pulled out your phone, the small thigh pocket you had specially designed for your suit making it easier to carry your essentials around when you were in no need for over coats.

You stuttered in your swings, a small squeak escaping you when you almost hit a bird, yelling out a “Sorry!” to the poor thing.

The thwip of your web attaching to a near tall building sent another rush through you, curving yourself between two structures and landing on top of a bell tower. The same one you and Miles had been visiting together for the past year. You tripped a little over your own feet before righting yourself, smiling under the mask.

You didn’t need those other spider people, didn’t need a “Community to fall back on.”—, as that Miguel had put it.

You had yourself, Miles, and a teacher that supported you. And that’s all you needed.

—

You dialled Miles’ number. The irony of your inner statement making you cringe a little. You inner voice convincing you that literally no one else can hear you be embarrassed. You were speaking in your head. Your other—, more combative, inner voice— saying otherwise.

You willed them both quiet as your phone rung.

Miles’ cute face being showing on the profile photo, you stared at it as you waited, foot tapping the cement bell tower.

His face was in your hands, and smiling that charming smile he always did. His cheeks were squished in your hold as you kissed his cheek, holding the camera.

It was a romantic photo, if not for the fact you were best friends. You found yourself getting jealous of your past self. Chastising her for not relishing in that moment further.

Your phone beeped twice, signalling the call ringing out. You stared at it curiously, Eyes of your mask tilting into confused slants.

“C’mon man, pick up.” You whispered to yourself, glaring at the device in your hands and trying again.

When he didn’t pick up then, either — you had started to get impatient. And ended up rolling your eyes at him.

Muttering curses along with phrases of envy under your breath.

You had nothing against Gwen, in all honestly, she was a perfect fit for him — charming and troubled just like he was. Able to bond over their shared issues and shared interest.

Like each other.

You scoffed and shoved your phone back into your pocket, before angrily shooting a web, and slinging away.

Going to a bodega you knew always cheered you up to get rid of the mood you had out yourself in.

—

You walked out of the bodega with your bag in hand, your other waving joyfully to the owner, Hoa, the sweet lady you had met three weeks after moving here. Who made the best Bánh Mi you could find. You pet her cat on the way out, the sweet Turkish Angora purring as she nosed along your hand.

Hoa yelled out for you to “Come back whenever, Spider. On the house, next time.”

“Never on the house, Hoa.”

Her annoyed grumbles fades the farther away you walked. Skipping a bit as you pulled out the food, crisp bread with all the fillings you loved making the first bite look heavenly. You had the urge right then to pull up your mask in front of every flashing camera just to taste that home made bread.

You sighed your compliments instead.

“She never misses.”

“Who never misses?”

You startled at the civilian that had approached you, his tall stature and spiky nature making him stand out so much you wonder how you hadn’t noticed him.

Maybe your spider senses were distracted with your food.

“Oh— uh..,” You sucked your teeth for a second, eyes darting curiously around, wondering why he wasn’t just like the other civilian. Taking photos and videos of you as you walked past — ever fascinated by the new “Hero” around. You would barely call yourself that, but it’s what the people deemed you.

“My.. Friend.”

The man bent down by the waist, hands behind his back as he started walking with you.

“Name’s Hobie. Guessin’ your ‘friend’ made tha’ sweet lookin’ sandwich, mm?”

“Mm.. She uh— Oh, I’m —!..” You paused, tripping over your feet and scuffing your shoes. You cringed under the mask, stuffing the food back into your bag.

“..Spiderwoman.. She makes good food. Yup.”

Hobie snorted at how quick you were about to reveal your identity to who you assumed to be some confident civilian.

You awkwardly walked with him, every now and again glancing longingly at your sub as he leisured in his pace. Taking his sweet time walking who knows where whilst you begrudgingly accompanied the stranger — or not stranger. Acquaintance.

“Ya’ real confident for a Spidey.” Hobies’ sarcastic voice drawled, sniffing and scrunching his eyebrows before his face relaxed into a teasing smile again.

You side glanced him, otherwise focused on trying to leave the conversation. “Well considering there’s only three — two, of us.” You giggled nervously, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Rest in peace, Spidey-1.” You — somewhat — joked.

Hobie let out a snort and choked on his breath, laughing at your awkward nature.

No wonder Miguel hadn’t let anyone even mention your lack of inclusion to the Spider-force.

Not after the first day of trying to convince you, anyhow.

It would have been utterly humiliating to be bested by someone who couldn’t hold a conversation for the life of her.

Hobie had a lot of respect for you, right off the bat. He knew the moment that Miguel (and Jess) had come back from Miles’ universe — pissed off and *alone — that you hadn’t been persuaded. And considering Jess and Miguel had a rather unique skill with their convincing, feeding off vulnerabilities in younger Spider-people to be the lack of parental figure in their lives, or elder — to have relatability in their pains. It wasn’t technically ill intended, but Hobie thinks it’s more than a little manipulative.

So to have you — someone he’s seen is vulnerable, hurting, easy; not fall victim to the duos tactics, and actively *berate them for it.

He was well awed.

And his brotherly instincts kicked in terribly fast. He thinks he sees a lot of himself in you. Awkward and growing into yourself, struggling against the high standards you were held to as a spider. And fighting from that box people tried to put you in.

So yeah, well awed would be an understatement. Proud would be a criminal understatement.

So when he had been looking for Gwen, trying to show her some stupid thing Pavitr had sent him just to show her — and realised she was gone. He checked his watch, lo and behold, she was in your universe.

Meaning she was with Miles, who rather actively tried to steer you away from his spider drama. Right now, though? He was distracted.

And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He walked with you for a while longer, letting you both get comfortable in the silence of a stranger.

“This ain’t weird f’ you, mate?”

You had both ended up at some alleyway, filled with stalls of food and bustling people pausing in their tracks to stare at the oddly placed pair of Hero and “Random Punk?”

“Not quite. I’ve had weirder interaction with weirder guys.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, Guess ‘m not as weird as some villains.” The brit droned, dropping down to your height and eyeing the stalls as you passed, pocketing some things from stores he knew as bigger organisations.

“I was talking about regular people, but yeah those too.”

He laughed, grinning at your dry humour and nodded again, leaning into your view and smirking at your adjusting lenses.

You reached the stall you were looking for, the girl greeting you with a smiling “Hi, Spidergirl!”

Your eyes shrunk, “Spiderwoman, Spiderlady, Spider — and you chose the most demeaning.”

“Well, you are built rather girl like, young and spry and — oh, is that Hoa’s Bahn Mi?”

You nodded enthusiastically at Avanti, dropping your hand into the bag and pulling out a cookie you’d saved for her.

Hobie watched the interaction from stood behind you. Slipping in a “You had a spare cookie this entire time?”

You snorted and Avanti handed you a peach ice tea and a couple of her home-made desserts in a Spider-man themed lunch box. A note reading “Got this just for you — brin bring it back!!” placed on top, you glanced up, putting the lunch box in your bag as you did so and thanked her before you and Hobie were off again. “Seriously, the whole walk. No cookie.”

You laughed at his pouting tone, “I’ll get you one, next time, big man.”

He draped his arm over your shoulder, leaning some weight on you and started talking about random things he could think about during the trip back to your apartment.

You’d grown to enjoy his company, the older man — and his lack of filter — being oddly entertaining. You quipped, and he quipped back. Not enough for you to really trust him seeing your apartment, but enough that you set the boundary on your block.

“Hey Hobes, this has been a really good talk—,”

“Gotta ge’ back to ya’ Spiderin’, aye?”

You smiled up at him, lenses sliding into a pleased expression. “Yeah, real difficult stuff y’know? Saving the city and all that.”

He nodded along with you, right as his funky watch (that did not at all match his outfit, but looked to be bedazzled with a series of metal spikes) beeped. He brought his arm up and checked the small screen, face morphing into one of annoyance. “Aye’. Right timin’ mate, cause I just got a call from HQ.”

“Ahh.. Big cooperation?”

“Not in a million years, brutha’. More like a socie’y.”

He looked up at you and grinned. “Miguel really don’t like when I flake out on ‘im.”

You paused a second while Hobie fiddled with his watch, reaching into his back pocket while checking for anyone around. When he found no one, he slipped out his spiked mask and slid it on.

You stared, dumbfounded.

He clapped your shoulder again, scoffing amused at your wide-eyed expression.

“Was this —“

“A ploy f’ you ta’ join the Spider socie’y? Not a’ all, mate.” He sniffed, itching his head through his mask and squeezing your shoulder.

“I right respect ya’ f’ not joinin’. Wish I woulda’ had ya’ will at my age.”

“Oh… Thanks…”

He nodded at you, Lenses squinting.

“Yeah but, I gotta dip, Gwen’s not distractin’ Miguel with sneakin’ off no more. He pro’bly realised I was gone too.”

“Yuh huh…”

“Bye, [Name].”

You blanched one last time before he shot a web onto your neighbouring apartment building, opened a portal mid-air, and flung himself through.

“What the fuck..” You whispered to yourself, perplexed at the interaction that had just occurred.

“What the hell.”

—

It was two hours later, when you were full of Bahn Mi, Pastries and Ice Tea, rethinking everything he’d said; when his last words caught up to you.

Gwen’s out of this universe. Not in the figurative sense — Although she is everything everyone wants to be, but you’re gonna ignore that — So where the hell was Miles?

It was late now, Moon shining a casted light through your living room drapes just as the Sun had onto your bed hours prior.

You gradually dragged yourself from your couch, reaching over your coffee table with great effort to reach your charging phone.

You huffed, giving up and snatching your web slinger from the floor by your feet and shot a web to grab your phone, tugging it off the charger. The thicker part yanked out the wall instead, landing hard on your torso with a dull thump. You scrunched your face up and grumbled, cursing at the thing while you pull your phone off the now useless charger and throw it on the floor.

“Fuckin’ asshole…”

You flipped your phone, eyes widening when your lock screen lit up with a series of notifications. All getting progressively worse. Your spider-senses growing in alert.

miles (o O) 7:42 PM

haiiii

gwen left

u should’ve hung w us

haha

get it \(^ W ^ )\

hung

cause spider

i’m comigg to home now

yoii r home

soffy swinginf

waiiiiiiiiiixixiiixkm jjj fd

bab guy ine secon

The messages abruptly stopped, being replaced entirely by a series of calls. Some left voice messages, some not.

You clicked on a recorded voice message.

(miles (o O) Left a Message at 7:46 PM.)

“Hey, [Name]!” Miles’ cheery voice rang out through the speakers, bringing a lovesick smile to your face despite the off feeling you had in your chest.

“Just gonna — Oof, hey man! Not cool. — Gonna take care of this guy before—,” A pause and a grunt. “,—Before I come home to you, yeah? Pick up soon I wanna know what you’re doin’.” A begrudged shout sounded far from the speaker. “Are you on call right now?”

“It’s important!”

“We’re fighting!”

“I have a life loser—“ Three harsh beeps rung out, signalling the end of the voicemail.

You clicked on a few more, just quick tidbits of him complaining you not picking up, and fighting an unknown villain. Also complaining how he missed you and “This guys is not goin’ down!” He shouted louder; “C’mon man! I have somewhere to be!” “Suck my dick Spiderman!” “Woah—! Well don’t get angry now, asshole!”

“Hypocrite!”

“Am not!”

“Are too—“ Three beeps.

You clicked again.

“[Name], Please pick up! This guy can— Fuck! — You dickhead!” A beat played and a cough was heard. Your frown deepened.

“I’m at the—“ Cut off.

You checked for another voicemail, one continue the one left off. A worried scrunch in your nose. There wasn’t one.

Right as you were going to call him back, his profile photo popped up again, you pressed answer with a lip between your teeth.

“Miles?” laboured breathing came through the speakers, wet gasps and sniffled coughs every now and again. He was silent for a full minute before answering you.

“Hey, [Name]..” His voice was gravelling and deep, sandpaper against softened lips.

He sounded tired, and your heart rate picked up in fear, almost like he could hear it. “Fuck..,” He whispered into the phone, groaning. Holding the phone loosely on his end, as apposed to the anxious grip you had on on yours.

“I’m.. Stuck in some construction site.” He gasped. “Miles what the hell—!”

“Mi Vida, please. The guys not—“ A loud crash made the speaker in your phone crackle. A whispered “Shit.”, before he hung up.

You wanted to call back, but from his whispering, and panicked tone, you could only guess he was trying to hide.

Whoever this villain was, they weren’t giving up.

—

You followed his tracker, the location he was pinged at getting closer by the second. You breathed hard against the force of wind, dropping down into a run on where the location was set to be.

“Fuck, fuck— Miles where are you?..”

Your footsteps were light, crouching under concrete slabs and tip toeing around loose gravel. Red light was cast along unfinished floors and crumbling walls. Shadows reaching towards you from the corners of your eyes. Your spider senses were on high alert, at a constant buzz. They suddenly upt in pitch and you flinched around, almost screaming at the hand covering your mouth. Pressed harsh against your face, and another around the back of your head so you couldn’t escape. Your hands gripped the wrists of the stranger before you heard an incessant shushing.

“Conejita, quiet.”

You relaxed instantly, the eyes of your mask downturned in fearful stress.

His hands were shaking against your head, figure hunched and body scratched up. The tears in his suit spanning across his right shoulder and chest. He slowly removed his hands, bringing a lone finger to where his lips would be in his mask in a ‘hush hush’ manner.

Coming in closer to you, leaning down to where your ear would be and whispering “He’s still here.”

You grabbed his forearms, leading him deeper into the site, away from the reddened lights and into the creeping shadows.

He breathed heavy behind you, throat wet with his own blood, he grunted and tried to help you in walking with him, good arm thrown over your shoulder as you dragged him. “C’mon, just a little farther.”

“What’re you…” He cut himself off, heaving. You set him down in the quiet corner, tucked behind two large concrete sheets and some large bent up pipes.

“Just—, sit here Miles, okay?” You brought his head up to yours, still talking in a quietened voice. Hands on his face and crouched in front of his slumping form.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stood from crouching, hands slipping off his face while he dragged forward to stay in your grasp — mumbling something like a plea for you to stay.

You turned from him, dashing away in silent movements, slinging yourself up onto high ground and turning back to make sure he wasn’t visible unless you truly looked — he wasn’t.

You lept off, disappearing from his sight with a yank against your webs.

He mumbled, shifting closer in your direction as the exhaustion hit him. Huffing, he leant back. Letting his head hit the wall and focus on keeping his eyes open.

"Quédate despierto.. No te muevas..."

“Stay awake.. Don’t move…”

He heaved again, the heaviness in his chest deepening.

“Stay…” He closed his eyes — for just a second, just for the relief — Dragging his hand up to rip the mask off of him, and forcing himself to open them again, to watch the Moon.

“Awake.”

—

You creep around corners, listening in and honing your senses to a point. For anything, a trip, a movement. A breath.

You whipped your head to the left, following the sound of light breathing.

“Come out little bunny.”

You tensed, he’d heard you.

“Ah, don’t worry, honey—,” You heard him creep forward, closer to you. He didn’t know where you were, obvious by the hesitance in his steps, but he had the right direction. You can move now, he would hear. And with how he’d heard Miles’ mere whisper before, you suggest maybe he had an ability similar to your own. “,Not him I want, anyways.”

That made your shoulders loosen a little, but you never rested. Who knows whether he was lying or not.

You shot a web, hitting the pipe of your aim and jumping from one to another, using your webs to steady yourself. You heard him huff a laugh.

“I heard that.”

Your eyes slanted, crouching into a spidered position. You crawled, using the stick of your fingers to steady across the pipe, sticking to it and trying to find the mystery man in the sea of red the warning lights casted.

Your spidey-senses went haywire and you jumped from the pipe in less than a second. Right as you did, a bang went off and you stumbled forward, landing in rubble and groaning. Rolling before you steadied yourself and jumped up. No rest until your opponent is resting in Death.

You finally saw him. What looked to be some guy in a green fuzzy suit.

“My girl..”

“Wha— *Are you a furry?”

He groaned, and charged for you, right hand outstretched and left in a clenched fist. He swung for your head, twisting his body as he did. You shot a web on his abdomen, pulling him towards you and jumping to slip under his arm, using his prior speed to throw him into a block of concrete, just missing a pole from stabbing him through the chest. He glanced at for a moment and grabbed his head — which had taken quite the hit.

“Seriously what type of Grinch cosplay is this?”

He growled again, like a man with rabies.

“C’mon dollface, don’t fight me here.”

“You hit first, asshole — Also what the fuck, i’m not your ‘doll’.” He shot for you again, throwing a bomb behind you to throw your body forward, you tried to grapple for stability, webbing to anything in reach. But he gripped your waist and held you against him.

“[Name]…”

You froze, body wanting to gag and shed your own skin at the same time.

You swung for his jaw, knocking him clean off you with a disgusted hand.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

He held his jaw and you stumbled farther from him. Hands held beside you, ready to attack if needed.

He grinned at you, blood seeping onto the green fur of his face, you felt sick.

“Oh, come on, babyface.” His jenky voice was digging into your skin, peeling it up and stabbing into your muscle. Twitching into your flesh and making your body hurt, making you hurt.

You ripped your mask up and hurled, spitting nothing but bile onto the ground below you, the burn of stomach acid sitting heavy in your throat and you felt like crying. Your breath heavy and gasps painful.

“What the fuck.”

—

You smiled at your professor. Waving back at him from the other side of the lecture hall. Miles come up behind you and hooked his arm around your shoulder, swaying against you as he chatted with you about anything that had happened in the time he hadn’t seen you. You snorted, chatting back — Forgetting completely about the other Miles.

You dropped your shoulder and your Miles stumbled, grumbling up at you before you gripped his forearm and dragged him to sit with you at the back of the hall. His mood changing in an instant as he followed along like a lost puppy, gawking at you with a dopey smile plastered across his face. His canines exposed, charming and boyish. How he always is. You sat him down, and sat next to you, and he dragged your chair a little closer, grabbing you leg and placing it over his.

He started laughing again at the eye roll you gave him, and you cracked — smiling and giggling with him.

What you hadn’t seen, was the glare settled on the two of you. The way Warrens previous smile had dropped into a snarling frown, hands gripping the pencil he had been holding in a death grip. He jumped at the sound of a crack, the pencil had snapped in his hands and he got even more pissed, about to scream at the *other Miles to get away from you. To get his hand off you.

That kid didn’t deserve you like he did.

You loved him like he loved you, he knew it.

You had too.

He watched you laugh and his heart fluttered, angry at who you were laughing for but still — you were so pretty.

You wouldn’t be laughing like that if he wasn’t here. You loved him.

—

“Mr. Warren?”

“How many times have I told you to call me Miles?” He slipped out of his own head, breaking from the stare he had on you.

You laughed sweetly, eyes shining. “How many times have I told you I already *have a Miles?”

He watched your smirk as you quipped back at him, a jealousy brimming in his chest. He chuckled, a heartless sound to no one but himself.

“Ahh, How many times am I going to forget?” He tapped his pencil on his desk and tried to focus on you instead. He watched you go back to your work, so intelligent, mature.

You shaded in the answer on the sleek sheet. You were right, of course.

A hair fell from behind your ears and he wanted to tuck it back, wanted to give you straight A’s for nothing despite knowing you would get them anyways.

You threaded you hand through your hair and if he wasn’t focused on how beautiful you were — maybe he’d be disappointed it wasn’t his own.

He watched you, forgetting the papers he was grading — he was focused on something else, now.

—

He was standing when you turned back. Hunching over his injuries and staggering towards you.

“Mr. Warren?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You gagged again, and he looked sad at the act.

“Please, baby—“ He stretched out his right hand, pleading with you.

“,—I know you love me too. I know that fucking Spider is taking you from me.”

He stepped closer.

“I know it.”

You stumbled back farther, wiping the spit from you lips and pulling your mask down, you went to shoot a web, to get away. But he was on you before you could, the hand not outstretched revealing a cloth covering his palm. Sodden and dripping a clear liquid.

He gripped your suit and dragged you forward, shoving the cloth closer to your face.

“Stop fucking resisting.”

“Get off!”

You gripped his forearm and bent it back, far enough you heard a snap. He yelped out. The sweet smelling cloth dropped from his hand and his other lost grip on your shirt. Taking the opportunity you dropped down, crouching on one leg and using the other to swipe the things legs from under him.

You watched him fall and grabbed the cloth. Hearing his pained groans as he tried to scramble up again.

You kicked a leg over him, straddling his chest and bringing your free hand back — swinging down on him with anguished cries.

He tried to raise his hands, you pinned them down in his own chloroform ridden cloth. He called your name, endearments that made you skin crawl. Tried kicking you off as his body grew weaker. Pleading with you, using his remaining strength to yank at his own arms.

He wrestled against your hits, face bloodied and nose broken. You hit again, watching his disgusting face whip to the side, blood leaking from his mouth as a tooth went flying.

Tears breached the edge of your eyes, frustration of every kind tearing your skin anew, your knuckles pouring the hurt you felt. Blood mixing in a sickening spill of feelings, an obsessive love — something cruel and harsh. And the injuries you’d sustained from it, equally as such cruel.

You’d spent *months trying for a man in love with someone else. And this man you had confided in, who had been a mentor in your trivialities — had taken advantage of that, of you.

He disgusted you.

You kept swinging.

—

Miles jerked awake, gripping the hands that were on his shoulders in an instant, the figure flinching back at his strength.

“Miles! Just me—,” He opened his eyes further, pain ringing through his body as he loosened in your hold.

“Just you.”

He took your appearance in, the blood coating your suit, that hadn’t seemed to be your own. The thick liquid shining on your hands and forearms, crudely splashed onto your mask — like something out of a horror film.

He reached up slowly, pulling off you mask with great effort. His own sitting next to him. You were on your knees before him, bathing in red so deep it could have been mistaken for black against the reddened light. He groaned when you touched his chest, coughing a little at the pain.

“Sorry! Sorry — I’m so sorry.” You quickly retracted your hand and gasped. Apologising through near tears. He wet his lips, watching your tear lined eyes in worry.

“Hey— Conejita, what— what happened?”

Letting his hands rest on your cheeks, carbon fibre wiping at soft skin.

You sobbed, gripping his wrists and moving his weak hands closer to you. His brows furrowed further.

“I don’t — I don’t know, he —,”

You breathed fast against his palms, crying to him. Miles straightened himself up, ignoring the pains shooting up his body and trying to comfort you, shushing your cries and cradling your face.

“Mr. Warren he was —“

Miles’ eyes widened, finally letting the familiarity in his voice click. That was who it was, who was so mad at him, disgusted by the Spider.

Miles shuddered, thinking back to the off feeling he’d always had around the older man.

How he was always around you.

“What did he do.”

His eyes darkened and you cried harder, Miles had completely forgotten about his wounds, shifting to get up and find the fucking bastard.

You gripped him tighter, “Miles. He’s not —,”

“Where is he.”

“Dead.”

His breath escaped him, the blood made sense now. He got closer to you and slid his hand around your head, pushing your face into his good shoulder.

You cried again, shaking form cradled against his own weakened body.

“Shh, Mami. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“We’re alright, I promise.”

He hugged you closer, pressing a haste kiss to your forehead.

“You’re safe.”

—

You helped him home, having to hold him up and swing at the same time, which wasn’t much as a hassle as you thought it would be.

You both sat on your couch, him lying down with you sitting on his thighs.

He watched you work, suit and mask discarded somewhere in your living room and clad only in a pair of loose joggers you had found for him.

Your face was pinched into a frown, eyes still puffed from crying and a brows scrunched unpleasantly.

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not.” He threw his head back, rolling his eyes at your complaining.

“See? Moving.” You poked his chest and he winced.

“Okay! Okay— Damn, chica.”

You smiled at his tone, a small, timid thing. And he pushed down the fluttering in his stomach.

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

“Lucky? Havin’ you here longer would make me lucky.”

You grumbled, pouting at him angrily. “You want stitches, big boy?”

“You gonna stay on top of me?”

“No, but i’ll make it hurt real nice.”

He snorted, shifting to look at you better.

“Then, nah.”

You kept at your work, patting him with antiseptics and making him hold an ice pack across the forming bruises.

And he admired you, the streaks of light from the window falling against your face. A city ridden with crime making you so, so pretty.

“Why’d you come for me?”

You gave him a curious look but continued to patch him up. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”

He sniffled, averting his gaze. “I dunno I just— didn’t expect you to show up.”

You shook your head a little, understanding his fears.

“I’d always show for you, Miles.”

He hummed, flustered at the thought.

You moved up to his face, gently patting away blood with a warm hand towel, your other hand holding his face towards you. Fingertips brushing his cheeks in a hold so caring he might’ve fainted if it wasn’t you holding him. He’d stay awake for you this time. He’d protect you this time.

“I love you.”

You froze, towel stuck in the air and your eyes locked onto his.

Miles held his breath, waiting for your reply as he watched you clock the words.

His nerves got to him quick, spouting out whatever he could in your silence.

"Estaba hablando con Gwen y me ayudó a darme cuenta, ¿sabes? No paraba de decir que estaba enfermo de amor, yo no lo entendía y pensé que quizás debería..."

“I was just talking with Gwen and she helped me realise, you know? Kept saying I was lovesick and I didnt get it and I just thought maybe I should—“

“I love you too.”

He snapped his gaze back to you. Hope colouring his eyes a sparkling gold.

“You do?” He whispered, an intimacy running through his bloodstream. Heart pumping too fast in haste of the pure admiration he held for you.

You nodded, and your hands splayed out further, cradling the edge of his lips.

“I do.”

He tried to sit up, abs clenching under effort to get closer to you, you let him drag you forward. He ditched the ice pack and settled his hands on the crest of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your hips.

“Say it again?”

He whined, begging you. He wanted, needed to hear you say it again.

“I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forehead pressing against your own. You followed.

The things he felt for you were too much, too much. His chest was heaving again, but not from pain. This was love he hadn’t experienced before, this was anything but painful.

"Dios, también te amo."

“God, I love you too.”

Your hands slipped from his lips to the back of his neck, scratching gently along his nape and he shivered.

“Let me kiss you? Please?”

He whispered again, voice cracking. Chapped lips brushing against your own softer ones in a featherlight touch. He was holding off, not letting himself the pleasure without you wanting him back — he wanted to know you wanted him back.

“Please.” You were sure, certain — and it was all he needed.

He kissed you sweetly, letting himself indulge in you without restraint.

He hadn’t known what he’d been missing out on — but now he does. Know he knows. And god, if he hadn’t felt more full in his entire life.

Everything had been bland compared to you, had been bitter and dull against the sweetness of your lips. Smooth against rough skin and he’d never felt something so soft before. His hands gripped you harder for just a moment and you pulled back merely an inch to catch your breath. He opened his eyes and watched your lips sparkle in the same light he’d admired minutes before.

“I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he pulled you ever closer. “I know, Miles.”

—

“I fuckin’ told ya’, mate.”

“Wh— I never said otherwise!”

“Yeah but ya’ neva’ agreed either, aye?”

“I never disagreed.”

“Pff, whateva.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, scoffing at the brit next to her with a smile on her face.

They watched you both as Miles nervously introduced you to Peter. A sort of Spider-convention was set up. And the invite was — begrudgingly — extended to you.

“They’re cute, though.”

“Bloody oath.”

You offered the older man with a warmed gaze, turning to the kid in his arms and cooing. He smiled at you, being one of your favourite spiders had its perks.

He was one of the only ones who never tried to make you join the society, so he got a pass from you.

Miles held your hand and smiled, chatting with Peter excitedly once he realised the lack of tension.

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Do I—,” You looked up at him hopefully. “Yes! Uh— Yeah. Yes please.”

You dropped Miles’ hand and he pouted, watching you take the baby from Peters arms, the early father fretting as you waved him off, insuring him you knew how to care for a child.

Peter relaxed and stood next to Miles as you rocked his baby gently. A rather fond feeling overtaking them both — leading Peter to take a photo of you with his kid, and Miles to shyly ask him to send it to him.

The look of you with a kid? It was way too early in life for baby fever.

He huffed when he heard people making kissy noises behind him. You too preoccupied with entertaining the kid to realise it.

He turned to the trio of teens behind him and flipped them off. Pavitr gasped offendedly at him and Hobie and Gwen laughed, causing Miles to roll his eyes and snort.

“Assholes.”

You gently passed MayDay back to Peter and gave a quick kiss to her head. Peter going off to get her a bottle.

Miles came up next to you and you smiled at him, watching the skyline from the buildings rooftop.

“[Name].”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at the voice behind you.

Way to ruin a moment.

“Miguel.”

You turned to him, Miles cringing quickly as he turned with you.

“Hey— Miguel! Crazy seein’ you here, haha! Insane.” Miles nervously laughed, his voice deepening on the last word and you coughed a laugh, agreeing with him.

“Uhuh, crazy.” A sly smile adorned your features and you grabbed his hand again, interlocking your fingers in a foxy movement.

“You weren’t invited.”

“Huh? Of course I wasn’t!—“ Your smirk grew bigger. “—I’m a plus one.”

He glared down at you and it only felt all the more justifiable, he opened his mouth to talk before Peter was dancing over with MayDay held out.

“Here take this, thanks!”

He quickly handed her off to Miguel and spun him around by his shoulders, continuing to walk with him in the other direction. “She needs a sleep. Rock her to sleep.”

“Wh—“

“Rock her.”

—

Miles gripped your hips, swaying gently with you to the soft music playing in your kitchen. Your Ma had left two weeks prior for a month long work trip, and he couldn’t stay away. The domesticity he had built with you reaching an all time high as he watched you cook.

He rested his head on your shoulder and you both continued to sway a little. Moving his hands past your hips to lean his hands on the bench you cut your food on, caging you in slightly. You hummed, reaching for a tomato and placing it on the board.

“I love you.”

You giggled — a sweet, girlish thing.

“Love you too, baby.”

“Love you more.” He smiled against your shoulder.

“Pfft, yeah okay, big boy.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, and his heart fluttered again.

—

GOD DAMN AS ALWAYS WAY OFF THE RAILS

lovely translator @sataraxia

(literally my bf the delusions are getting worse he’s my bf guys!!! ⬇️)

[scaredycatwrites]

Quiet Comfort

Pairing: Morgie le fay x gn reader

Prompt: you were a victim of one of Uliana's outbursts and Morgie finds you in a quiet part of the courtyard and tries his best to comfort you. 

Warnings: accidental hitting, crying 

a/n: I love Uliana's character honestly so much but i just felt this was a cute idea, this is the first time i’ve posted a one shot so apologies if its badly written.

Word count: 1,851 words

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

Being a VK was fun most of the time, you and your friends would have fun pulling pranks, terrorising the other kids and causing mischief in general but of course it came with its issues. Uliana was a great friend, but she was prone to outbursts of frustration and anger, especially if someone bested her at something, and today happened to be one of those days where someone decided to test Uliana's patience when she was talking down to them. Now usually you and the rest of the VK's could calm her down after a while making her feel better by reminding her that she can get them back next time but she was not in the mood for that today.

“Uli, don't let it get to you, we can get them ten times worse next time.” You spoke attempting to comfort the sea witch. But she wasn't in the mood letting a growl leave her. “Not now Y/n I don't wanna hear your attempts at helping!” Morgie and the others watched as you attempted to calm her down knowing it was probably not the best idea. You looked at her before trying once more. “But Uli, it's not the end of the world, we can get that spoiled princess back I know we can!” The others knew the look Uliana wore well, she was frustrated and at her breaking point. Uliana then snapped. “Oh my god Y/n do you ever know when to stop talking!? Just shut up! I don't need to hear your pathetic attempt at comfort! I don't want your pity!” The sea witch exclaimed her tentacles flinging out in frustration to hit at anything she could around her, unintentionally smacking you as she did so. 

Most of the group backed up to let Uliana take her frustrations out on the surrounding area however Morgie was focused on the way you stood still for a moment as you put a hand on your face where the skin was turning a purplish red on the surrounding area of where Uliana's tentacle had caught your cheek. He could see the way your eyes threatened to spill tears and in a matter of seconds you seemed to excuse yourself mumbling an apology before doing a speed walk turned jog away from your friends. 

You made your way to one of the quieter courtyard areas of Merlin Academy and sat on one of the corner benches, soft sniffles turned to silent sobs, occasional hiccups leaving you while you let out your emotions. The truth was you'd been dealing with some other stuff and this was the last straw to set off your tears you'd been holding in for a few days. It was definitely needed but inconvenient that it happened during school hours, you'd be mortified if anyone saw you crying like this, it made you feel weak and vulnerable, something you were taught by your parents that villains should never be.

Your worst nightmare began as you heard the softest little. “Hey..” come from the entrance to the courtyard, you knew those steps and that voice anywhere. Morgie. You turned your head away trying to stop the little sobs and hiccups from leaving you, taking a shaky breath you stuttered out a broken. “G-go away M-morgie.. ‘m fine..” Morgie slowly made his way closer to the bench you had sat on and sat on the other side keeping distance between you for a moment. “You don't have to be fine, it wasn't exactly a nice situation to be in, I saw how she caught your face, that must've hurt, trust me I know she's caught me a bunch before.” He half joked trying to lighten your solemn mood. You appreciated the boy's words but still felt uncomfortable appearing so vulnerable. “Morgs I'm fine.. I'll put some ice on it or whatever.” You mumbled trying to hide the shaky tone but unfortunately for you Morgie could hear the shakiness. 

Morgie then shuffled a little closer to you on the bench placing a hand on your arm hesitantly which made you jump but you didn't move his hand away. “Y/n, you don't have to hide your emotions from me, I'm not gonna make fun of you, we're friends, I'm here for you.” You felt your heart ache slightly, it was difficult for you to be openly emotional due to your villainous upbringing and Morgie knew that pretty well having grown up in similar conditions yet he seemed so soft and gentle and kind with you all the time. “Morgie, why'd you come looking for me.. You know I would've been fine on my own.” You finally glanced at the boy next to you, your face tear stained and puffy from your crying, yet that didn’t seem to phase him all too much. Morgie slowly reached a hand up, using his thumb to wipe away any tears left, the gentle motion caused your cheeks to flush a faint shade of pink although it partially blended with the red tone of your skin from the crying which you were thankful for. “I know you say you would be ok on your own but i wanted to come and check in anyway, you mean a lot to me and i want you to be ok..” Morgie attempted to hide the faint blush on his cheeks as he confessed this to you.

Morgie let out a small hum, taking a breath as he spoke in a much softer tone than his usual excitable one. “You know, i thought you were very brave to try and help Uliana, you’re always positive about things which are hard to find in a villain, you’re kind Y/n, it’s hard to find that, even in those royal snobs.” His words made the corners of your mouth turn upwards ever so slightly producing a small smile. “Morgie.. You’re so sweet, I don’t understand why you are though, Uliana’s probably gonna kick me to the curb for trying too hard to be positive.” This caused Morgie to frown. “Not on my watch, besides you did nothing to warrant being kicked out of the group. Uliana is just having one of those days, it’s not your fault at all. I’m sure if we talk to her later she’ll probably be fine with you,she just needs to cool off.” You gently nodded and took a breath realising how silly you probably sounded worrying about being kicked out of your friend group. 

You hadn’t even realised that Morgies hand was still resting on your cheek until you felt yourself leaning into the touch. He seemed to continue the gentle rubbing motion with his thumb, no longer wiping away tears but just comforting you with the gentle touch. You let out a comforted hum as he stroked your cheek, the touch was so soothing, it felt intimate in a way but you didn’t want to assume anything about the way Morgie was being. The moment of gentle touch and quiet lasted for what felt like an eternity before Morgie spoke up. “Hey Y/n, i care about you, so much.” You let out a small laugh. “Is that so? I didn’t think that villains were supposed to care about anything.” Morgie smiled a little as he rolled his eyes. “Well if that's the case then maybe i’m not a total villain because i seriously care about you Y/n, like a lot.” You looked at Morgie not expecting him to be genuine but there was nothing but genuine adoration in his eyes. “Oh.. oh Morgie that’s so sweet of you.. I care about you too.. And I seriously appreciate how kind you’ve been to me.” 

Morgie gave a gentle nod as he felt his cheeks flush at your minor confession. “Well I'm glad we’re on the same page about caring for one another.” he half joked, causing you to snicker and nod. “Me too Morgs me too.. I should probably get to my dorm before I get seen by a bunch of snobby princesses, doubt we’d live down me being caught crying with my face in your hands.” This caused Morgie to laugh a little as he hesitated before letting go of your face and standing up. You also moved to stand up, missing the feeling of Morgie’s gentle touch on your cheeks. Morgie then gestured to you to begin walking which earnt an eyebrow raise from you. “Morgie le fay, are you offering to walk me to my dorm?” you teased playfully causing his face to flush pink and he begged you didn’t see, but you of course did. “Well.. um.. Yeah I just thought it would be the polite thing to do.” you let a giggle slip out as he explained himself. “And since when did you care about being polite?” Morgie then shrugged and smiled, beginning to walk off. “Hey if you don’t want me to, I can just let you go alone.” You shook your head quickly before doing a small jog to catch up to him. “I never said I didn't want you to.” This caused him to chuckle as you walked side by side in a comfortable silence for a few minutes towards the girls' dorms. “Thank you by the way.. For uh.. Coming to check on me, you didn’t have to do that.” you spoke up as you approached your room, unlocking your door, standing in the doorway for a moment. Morgie gave a small smile as he spoke in that soft tone once again. “Anytime Y/n, seriously if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask me.” you nodded gently leaning your head on the doorframe giving Morgie a lopsided smile. “The same goes for you Morgs, you can always come to me if you need anything, but if you tell the others about me crying don’t forget i know where your dorm is.” You half joked. Morgie shook his head. “I would never, I swear, VK’s honour.” He gave a silly salute making himself laugh and you giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow Morgie, get to your dorm safe.” Morgie then took your hand in his for a moment pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles causing your face to flush a bright pink. He bowed teasingly, chuckling. “I bid you goodnight dearest Y/n, sleep well and no more tears tonight or I shall have to return and you will soon tire of me doing this voice.” You laughed quietly at Morgies silly attempt at a princely voice shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Yes I will, your unroyal evilness.” you teased making him laugh in response before moving backwards into your room giving a gentle wave. “Goodnight Morgie, you dork, you should go before curfew.” “Ah of course, goodnight y/n, don’t miss me too much!” he chimed before you watched him head off closing the door giggling to yourself and shaking your head, a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as you thought about everything that happened and found yourself anticipating what might happen when you see Morgie again tomorrow. 

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

An: I hope you enjoy this, honestly I just wanted to write some Morgie stuff because the world could use more Morgie. This is my first time posting my writing so I'm a bit anxious about it.

[roxygen22]

Paper

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: Reader and Willy discover that Ben/Bean is an aspiring artist. Age: 3 & 17

<><><><><>

You were outside hanging clothes on the line to dry when you heard the back door slam and little feet running toward you. Before your brain could register what was happening, you were nearly bowled over by the force of Ben running into your leg.

You looked down to find that Ben had buried his face and balled up his fists in your skirt. "Pa ell a mm," you heard his garbled speech muffled by the fabric. You knelt down and pried his fingers loose so you could look at his red, tear-streaked face.

"I'm sorry, Benny. I couldn't understand you when your mouth was covered. Take a deep breath." You inhaled deeply through your nose and out through your mouth a couple of times, motioning for him to copy you. "Good. Now, try again. What's all this about?"

"P-papa lelled at m-meeee." The boy started sobbing again.

"Oh dear. What happened?"

"I..." he sucked in a breath. "I wanted to dwaw him a picture. I saw paper on Papa's desk..."

"Ah, I see. Did that paper already have words on it?"

"Only on fwont. I dwew on back."

"Oh, Benny. We talked about asking before you touch anything in the study. Papa has very important papers in there for the shop and factory."

"I'm sowwy." He looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes. You cupped his round cheeks in your hands.

"I know you are. But I'm not the one you need to apologize, too. Why don't you go inside to your room and play while I go check on Papa. After that, you can tell him you're sorry." Ben nodded, then shuffled through the back door to his room with his head hung low.

It was out of character for Willy to snap at anyone. The man typically had the patience of a saint, so you knew Ben must have drawn on something important. You quietly stepped into the study and spied Willy slumped in the armchair, one hand supporting his forehead and one foot kicked out. It looked as if he had collapsed dramatically into it.

"I made him cry," Willy said morosely without looking up. "I didn't- I didn't mean to. I shouted his name. I was just trying to get his attention and stop him before he did more damage. I...I startled him, and he ran off to you."

"Full name or nickname?" you asked as you sat on the sofa next to him.

"Full name," he groaned.

You grimaced. Ouch, you thought. Willy hardly ever referred to the boy as anything but Bean and almost never as Benjamin unless introducing him to others. It's on par with your mother using your middle name when you were in trouble. You shuddered slightly. That probably wounded Ben worse than the volume. "What did he draw on?"

Willy held up the face page of a contract with the hand not supporting his head. He had yet to look up at you.

"Oh dear."

"I'll ask Beth to type up a new one tomorrow before the meeting. It wasn't worth raising my voice at him. I...I just had a long day and...of course, that doesn't excuse anything. Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright," you said soothingly as you placed your hand on Willy's arm. "He's calming down in his room. Like you said, he was startled. You are usually the fun one, not the disciplinarian."

"I should go to him," Willy said as he stood from the chair. You returned to your previous task of hanging out the laundry so they could have some time alone to make amends.

Willy walked to Ben's room and gently knocked before pushing the door open. Ben looked up at him from his desk with big sad eyes.

"Hey there," Willy said softly.

"I dwew you another picture. I'm sowwy, Papa," Ben said pitifully as he handed Willy a piece of paper.

"Oh, Bean. Is this the factory?" Ben nodded excitedly. "Wow, such great detail! Is this what you wanted to draw earlier?" Ben nodded again, with less exuberance this time. Willy's heart broke as he saw his son's face fall.

"Hey, buddy. I'm sorry for raising my voice and scaring you. That was a very important paper you were drawing on, and I needed you to stop."

"I know, Mamma told me I need to ask first," he responded dejectedly. "I just had a picture in my head that I wanted to dwaw when I was by your desk."

"Ah, that I understand. Sometimes my ideas don't come to me at convenient times, either. Tell you what. How about I set up a drawer with paper that's safe to draw or write on whenever an idea strikes. You never have to ask for permission as long as it's from that drawer. Deal?"

Ben's face lit up again, and he stuck his tiny right hand to shake. "Deal!"

Willy shook his son's hand with his right and looked down again at the picture in his left. It was incredibly well done for Ben's age.

"Can I take this to the factory with me? I want to frame and hang it. If you draw more, I'll have a whole gallery wall of Benjamin Wonka works."

Ben giggled, "Okay, Papa!"

<><><><><>

Over time, Ben's art skills matured to charcoals, watercolors, canvases, and paints. Willy spotted the talent early and took great pleasure in encouraging it, supplying it. Fourteen years later, he had indeed collected enough of Ben's work to fill multiple walls.

"People need to see this."

Willy decided to surprise Ben by converting one of his shops into a limited time art gallery for his 17th birthday. He somehow managed to promote what ended up being the town's social event of the season while also keeping it a secret from his boy.

It was finally the night of the big reveal. "Papa, why are we going to the shop so late? I thought we were going to meet Mamma and Charlie for dinner?" Ben walked shoulder to shoulder with Willy. They were nearly the same height now.

Willy was vibrating with excitement. "I just need to pick up something I left there," he bent the truth slightly. "Your birthday present."

When they arrived, Willy unlocked the doors to reveal a magenta velvet curtain blocking the entry. He took the gold pull cord in his hand and handed it to Ben.

Ben looked at the tassel in his hand, bewildered. "What is this?"

"Your gift! Pull it and find out." As Ben pulled the cord, the curtain drew back to reveal...

"Surprise!!"

Ben stood there with his mouth ajar as he looked around at you, Charlotte, Noodle, his friends and girlfriend. Everyone rushed him for a celebratory hug. He gave you a kiss on the cheek. Then, the background details caught his eye. The crowd separated as Ben made his way to look at the walls that were now decorated with his paintings rather than shelves of candies and chocolates.

He browsed in awe until he stopped at the penciled sketch of the Wonka factory, gently tracing the golden frame with his fingers. He felt Willy step up beside him and gently squeeze his shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Bean."

Ben looked over his shoulder to reveal misty eyes. "Thanks for always being my biggest fan, Papa," he said reverently.

"I'm glad I could be right here beside you when your talent is shared with the world."

<><><><><>

A/N: I think it's safe to say that Willy would be his kids' biggest cheerleaders.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

[overnowsfcb]

halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.