#and it reminds her of everything she's lost and it breaks her heart!

[scribefindegil]

Obsessed with the POV choice in Imperial Radch as well, both because Leckie does some really wild stuff with how expansive the strict first-person is able to become due to the worldbuilding and who her narrator is, and because it's SO entangled with the central thematic concepts of identity. In the first book flashbacks when the narrator is still a warship, "I" can encompass so many things, and sometimes explicitly refers to different facets in the narration--is "I" Justice of Toren, or One Esk, or a specific segment, or Breq narrating from twenty years in the future? "I" isn't simple, isn't unified, and while this is most literal and obvious with Breq/One Esk/Justice of Toren and Anaander Mianaai's split factions it's true constantly throughout the work at every level of scope. Individual characters struggle with internal conflicts and hit their breaking points--what is it that makes someone decide they have to disobey orders and make a stand or they won't be themself anymore? How do you know who you are if you've been forcibly changed (Tisarwat) or if the world you knew has moved on and become unrecognizable (Seivarden)? How does a character on a colonized world navigate the split identity that comes from the pressure to assimilate to the dominant culture? And then there's the Radch writ large, all the Radchaai so deeply invested in the idea that there is only one true concept of Radchaai society, of civilization, but of course there isn't! It changes based on location and over time, and Breq muses that the Radchaai empire would be largely unrecognizable to the isolated sphere of the Radch itself. In these books, even if you aren't the last remnant of a destroyed spaceship and its legion of bodies, "I" is such a complicated concept and the narrative never lets you forget it.

[louebel]

[ " 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆! " ] — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): luffy, robin, law, sanji, kidd × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread 'n quick, lots of fluff! they are all babies. (i KNOW kidd's crew raid fashion stores and complain about them if they're lackin. if. if there's a fic like that pls share in the comments. i BEG you.) also some swearing with kidd!! dripping divider by @ benkeibear like always,, i live for these dividers damn.

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

"you too!!"

you swear his smile widens so much his face is stuck that way.

he is adorable. he smiles every day but hearing you say that? it's exactly what he wants!! he wants people to look at him smiling AND wants them smiling in the process (continuous cycle,,)

it's so easy to notice just how much he loves you saying that. round cheeks tinted pink, eyes shut, and set of teeth shared to the world. he is always so animated with everything he does, and this is no exception.

this little rubber man is immediately engulfing you in his arms!! you are not allowed to leave until he says so.

"i'm gonna make you smile too! forever! that way, we'll both look cute when we smile! shishishi!"

scratch protecting him at all costs. he's gonna protect you at all costs.

if you tell him again, grab his cheeks and shake him as if he were a pupper. if he had a tail it'd be wagging 'till he flies. will probably make all types of noises while you do it.

pat the boi.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

her smile might be tender but she's giggling internally,, she's flattered!!

"is that so? i'm glad to hear that."

robin gained confidence growing up and she knew she was a gorgeous woman — but hearing it from your lips is still a surprise. sure, she gets compliments on the daily, especially by sanji, but... yours felt much more intimate. she's not blushing because she's flustered or anything, it's just because she loves you. and that comforting warmth in her chest propagated to her neck and face.

it's small moments such as this that remind her of saul's words. each day on the sunny is a reminder, but the little things reinforce those feelings. it was such a wonderful sentiment.

you had no idea what she was thinking about, but the way the corners of her lips eased, your heart jumped too.

she really did look cute while smiling.

"you look pretty, too. smile more often, dear."

she's so lucky to have you. and you're so lucky to have her.

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

dies

you think he looks... cute?

his eyes widen and he just. stops functioning for a moment. his heart feels lighter and funnier than normal, and his smile returns, a bit more timid than before.

"... really?"

"of course!"

he doesn't even believe it— he did notice from time to time how you suddenly just,, softened when he did it but he didn't think you'd like it that much. he doesn't smile a lot, sure there are definitely various moments where he feels at peace with the crew, but they come easier with you

when he showed you his coin collection, when you both took a stroll or when you simply cuddled. law might look scary to those outside — but inside, he is still the small boy whose curiosity shined above all. he is very fond of those he cares about, even if he has trouble expressing his emotions and thoughts to others. the confidence he wore doubled for you and his loyal crewmates, but he deserved rest every once in a while. years of trauma dulled him, however, when he felt something, it was strong; almost as if breaking out of a cage. he kept them deep inside, only to burst and even tremble when he was pampered. he didn't know how to react, and only with time would he grow used to it.

so,, please be patient and take care of him,, he looks after himself with everything else, but he's a lost puppy with love and physical affection. if it doesn't show on his face, his heart definitely speeds up at every small thing you tell him, casual or not.

"thank you."

you see him smile a bit more now. give him any type of compliment, affection, or anything,, and the "cold" surgeon of death will be nothing but putty in your hands.

"and... you too."

he really does love you.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

dies 2.0

"o- oh... my love! you look adorable smiling, too!"

never-ending swarm of compliments. oh and he's hugging you as if his life depends on it.

he's not really used to the sweet words and might think he's undeserving of them. sure, it's a simple smile... but that's exactly why it gets him so much. something so mundane and common yet you see a unique beauty in his and his alone. others can warm your heart too, but he does it in a different way — in a special way.

if you tell him this in the middle of the night and you're both having a calm and peaceful moment he might cry. (if it's daytime and he's feeling a lil sensitive it's tears of joy mixed with laughter,, please hold him)

he's so happy. he'll smile as much as you want him too. if that gets you to do so too, it's a win-win for everyone!

it's usually clear when he feels affectionate,, he is most of the time. but now it DOUBLES. that comment made his day.

he's so giddy and adorable.

"you light my world up, mon rayon de soleil. if i can do so too with a simple smile... then i shall every day."

𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃

mf's smile never dropped so fast.

"the fuck do you mean CUTE??"

was about to throw a fit but then he just. stares at you. so genuine...

"why you lookin' at me like that?? stop. 'm not fuckin' cute."

staaaare...

"... zero point one percent cute. happy? now stop looking like a goddamn puppy."

but you end up smiling even more. and no matter what he thought, his heart still beat a little faster. you looked pretty cute, too.

yes. he's a bit mean sometimes but you know he means well. he's your little man. like, he made you a tiny metal butterfly once so that even if he was busy with designing and crafting you had something to remind you of him. (he sputtered profanities and became as red as his hair before storming off walking in a wall but he still peeked from a corner to see if you liked it. when he saw your pleased expression, he smirked like the lil shit he is.)

plus... deep inside, he appreciated it. you and killer always managed to calm him down.

he truly is grateful.

"urgh. c'mere. let's go get killer 'n the others to raid a store."

...

bonus after the raid: he does your makeup and uses a great lipstick he stole found to really make you pop with the looted new clothes he got for you. hyped you up and grinned like an idiot. he's doing your nails next. killer gave you a thumbs up before finding more products himself,, raiding stores sure is fun!

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

[miserycanary]

A FIXED HEART IN YOUR HAND ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

♡⃛ ‘My Hell For Your Love’ alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: is it done? hopeless love? How Ghost is after the break-up

tags: :3.. 

Ghost swears he’s going crazy. In his eyes, the walls are dimmer and everything seems… out of place. He seems out of place. Not when you’re not there with him. “Fuck,” he grumbles, tilting his head back on the headboard of the bed you used to share with him. He knows it’s disgusting but he hasn’t had the courage to change the bedsheets since that day, too scared he’d forget how you smell. Ever since you came over for the last time to take your things, he lost everything in the apartment that reminds him of you— that reminds you guys happened. 

It seems like he’s in a worse state than he thought when even Price came up to him, asking him to hang after work shifts. Ghost knew that he was not in the best state and everyone in the base was muttering about it. Seeing as he had nothing more to lose (you were all he had), he agreed. 

The bar was filled with cigar smoke and the smell of cheap liquor. It was bustling with bodies grinding on each other everywhere. He had let himself go but his build still managed to attract stares, often getting hit on by ladies looking for someone to fix their daddy issues. And each time he turns them down until he sees a familiar figure. Like a dog, he chases someone who seems to be you but only to feel a pang of disappointment. 

The night seems to pass quickly. He’s suddenly in bed with the girl who looks like you. He knows it’s wrong to play with her, but he needs you— one way or another. It just ended up with him more frustrated. She wasn’t like you. The way she felt, her look, and her voice. Everything was so different. 

He didn’t even stay the night, unable to process the fact he laid with someone who wasn’t you. Placing some bills on the bedside table, Ghost takes one more look at her sleeping figure that paints a scowl on his face. Even the way she sleeps wasn’t like you at all. The walk back home was exhausting, with a cigar between his lips and a burden in his heart. 

His steps halted when he found himself in the familiar street of your unit. “I’m really going nuts,” he chuckled to himself, peering up to look at your unit that always had its windows open. He was about to risk it all when he heard your laughter and a voice. The sight before him made him lose it. You had a guy over. Someone who doesn’t even look like him! Ghost snaps back when he realizes he let go of his cigar. Looking down at the still burning light, he contemplated. Was it done? Were you gone from him forever? No, right? It’s a one-night stand, convinces himself.

It wasn’t a one-night stand, he realizes. Holding the wedding invitation in his hand 2 years after that. The words printed on the dedication had his stomach churning. 

‘To my old friend, Simon,

I invite you to my wedding. Thank you for being with me for many years. You have helped me become who I am today, so I would love if you’ll be there. We promised we’d be with each other during our happiest moment, right? 

All love,

Y/N’

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: the last and final part. Go read the alternative ending! Sorry if it’s rushed!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[mischieveousmayhem]

Ummi, come back

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mention of death

Synopsis: All he wants is his mom, without her he is falling apart.

a/n: pretty short, my requests are open.

THE MASTERLIST

—

Damian Wayne, a tough kid.

He gets it from his father of course.

But lately he feels like he hasn't been so tough. Which is okay right? Even the toughest people have weaknesses. But this felt worse then any weakness.

It's been a week since he saw the suffering of his dearest mother. He just needed some of her soothing words, or to break down in her warm, comforting embrace. Although if she was here, he wouldn't need that. If she was here, they would probably be on the couch watching some of her favorite movies, or baking cookies with his fellow brothers.

Y/N wasn't his real mom though. Talia was.

But that didn't matter to you or him. That reason being because you treated him better than Talia ever would.

Even though he didn't like you at first, he learned to love you. You had the sweetest heart ever and you cared for him and his fellow brothers like they were your own kids. Scratch that. They were your real kids even if it wasn't biologically. Blood wasn't what made them your children, it was the memories and love.

Secretly Damian was a mama's boy and whenever you two were alone he would show that. Without his mother he is so lost. Of course he has his father, Bruce. But nothing can replace a mother's tender, delicate love.

So alone he sat, in the garden, watching the sunset. In his hands was a picture of your family. You, Bruce, and the boys. The photo was taken at the first dinner after you and Bruce got married. It was so chaotic, but none of you would have changed it for the world because it was one of the families happiest moments. But lately there has been no happiness. You were their ray of sunshine, you gave the boys everything they could ask for to make them happy.

The sunset, the thing that reminds him of his mother. It was beautiful, just like you. But the thing that really made him get reminded of you was the fact you used to sit on this bench together and watch the sunset.

His eyes are red and puffy. Not to mention he is still crying while watching it, missing you so much.

"Oh Ummi," He spoke, "Come back."

[leclercings]

Crush | Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: Angst, Pining

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You're in love with your best friend, Charles Leclerc, but he doesn't know it…

A/N: Unrequited love sucks. It inspired me to write this though. Hope you all like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Masterlist

A plethora of outfits are casually thrown around your room. You sigh, trying to figure out what to wear. 

You want to text Charles so badly to get an opinion but you stop yourself from doing it. He is out with his girlfriend, and you don't want to disturb him. 

You feel a horrid emotion in your gut.

A pang of jealousy.

The emotion spreads across your entire being and you lie down on the bed angrily, not caring about the mess around you.

You huff, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts.

It's always him, isn't it?

Charles Leclerc. Your best friend.

You've loved him for over twelve years, yet you've always accepted the position of a wingwoman when it comes to his love life.

You've watched him switch girlfriends in the blink of an eye, you've analysed every single relationship that he's ever had, you've been a patient listening ear to his love life woes, and you've even set him up with your friends. You remember the name of every single girl he has dated, how they started and ended.

All because you want to be a supportive best friend.

But what about your own heart?

After a lot of contemplation, you choose a green sundress- the colour reminding you of his eyes, and beautiful eyelashes, and how when he looks at you, your heart skips a beat.

You snap out of your thoughts back to your room, looking around. You don't feel like cleaning up. 

Your phone pings with a notification. It keeps buzzing, and you try to find it among the stack of clothes everywhere. 

You feel a firm cool object in your hand, buried deep in the middle of your clothes. You check it excitedly, wondering if he has texted you.

You feel disappointed when you see it's from your Mom. She wants you to bring wine for today's lunch.

You try to calm down. You're acting like a teenager. You need to let go of him.

But you can't.

You see another notification.

You open your email. It's from Versace. You gasp. You had given an interview to intern at Versace as a Junior designer. 

You've been accepted. You let out a loud squeal.

As you go through the email, you feel so many emotions at once. You're excited as well as nervous. 

There's one catch though- it's in Milan.

Monaco is everything you have ever known. You don't know if moving to Milan for this would be a good idea.

You keep wondering about it as you get ready, wearing your dress. You finish up with your makeup and look in the mirror.

Today is Lorenzo’s engagement party. Charles will be there. So will be his girlfriend.

Another pang of jealousy hits you.

You don't recognise the person staring back at you. Maybe, just maybe, you need a break from all of this.

From your feelings. From Charles.

Milan would be a good change.

*****

You arrive at the Leclerc's home for the party.

Pascale welcomes you with the biggest smile on her face. She has always considered you her family. 

“Hello, dear,” she hugs you tightly.

You control your emotions. Nobody knows your good news yet, but you'll miss this warmth if you move to a new city.

“Hi,” you reply, giving her the wine you've bought.

As if on cue, your mom comes from the kitchen.

“Y/N!” She comes and hugs you tightly. It feels nice to be loved. You've been feeling a little drained these days because of your strong emotions but being with your mom makes it all go away in a second.

Love is a powerful emotion. We all crave love in some form or the other- wilting like a flower if you don't get it from the right people.

“Mom.” You speak, adjusting her messy hair. “We need to talk.” You whisper gently in her ear and she nods.

“Pascale,” You address Pascale, “Could I steal my mom for a moment?”

“Sure,” Pascale replies.

You and your mom go to the balcony. Your mom looks worried.

“What happened, dear?” She asks you.

“You remember I’d applied to Versace?”

Your mom bites her lip nervously, trying to figure out what you're talking about.

It clicks.

“Let me guess, you got the internship?”

You widen your eyes in surprise. How does she know?

She chuckles.

“You're the best there is, love. Of course you were going to get it.”

You sigh. “But it means I'll have to move to Milan.”

“You need the change, my love. I think it's for the best.”

When your mom echoes your own thoughts, you feel like it's alright to move away from Monaco for a bit.

You smile at her.

“Let's join everyone?” 

By the time you get back to the garden, you see Charles is there.

Your heart does a somersault. He's wearing a white shirt and khaki pants. He looks breathtakingly gorgeous. You notice the small figure standing beside him.

“Y/N!” He spots of you and comes to hug. You inhale his sweet scent. It's a little intoxicating. “This is Alexandra, my girlfriend.”

Alexandra gives you a soft smile.

“Hi Y/N, I've heard a lot about you.”

“Hopefully all good things.” You shake her hand.

“Yes of course. Charles admires you so much.” 

This makes you blush. You see Alexandra’s expression changing for millisecond before regaining her composure.

The lunch goes by smoothly. Everybody's happy and gladly celebrating Lorenzo’s milestone.

By the end of it, most people have left. It's just your family and Charles’s family.

You're all sitting in the garden, chilling. 

“Everyone!” Your mom calls out.

“We have a news to share,” she says, after a little bit of a pause.

You know what's coming. You shake your head at your mom who simply gives you a smile.

“Y/N got an internship at Versace!” She squeals loudly.

Everybody starts cheering except Charles, who stares at you, hurt.

You gulp. You hadn't told Charles about it. You had meant to- but he was so busy racing and then with his girlfriend that you never found the right time.

“Congratulations!” Pascale raises a toast, and everyone follows.

You give them a sad smile.

“I'll be moving to Milan in a few months…” You say, avoiding Charles’s gaze.

He crosses his arms. He gets up and leaves to go inside.

Your mom notices it and mouths you to follow him. 

You shrug. She gestures you again and you follow her instructions. 

There's a small hope inside of you. Maybe if you confess what you're going through, you'll feel a little better.

“Charles,” you go after him. He's probably going to his room.

“Charles, wait!” You say loudly, and he pauses just as he's about to close the door to his room.

“What, Y/N?”

“Charles, I'm so sorry.”

“Really?”

You nod.

“I thought we were best friends who told each other everything.”

“I know, I'm sorry. You were just too busy and I didn't want to distract you.”

“You, distraction? Oh come on.”

He leans against the doorframe- a gesture you find extremely sexy. Your heart starts beating faster as he stares at you with his beautiful green eyes. Ones that match with your sundress. Ones that match with nature.

“I'm just a little hurt that you didn't tell me about-”

You interrupt him with a kiss.

He pauses, pulling away, staring at you incredulously.

A split second later, his lips meet your again.

The kiss is passionate. Like a storm. Like two people with buried feelings that surfaced out after a long time.

He leans his forehead against yours.

“Shit,” You both say at the same time.

[sporadicbeans82]

Life Flowed By (Seamlessly) || Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: Freshly broken up with, you struggle to move on from someone you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with.

Warnings: Maybe mentions of poor mental health and a panic attack if you squint?

A/N: I just wrote a 15 page essay on law and threw this out in the stress-fueled angst left behind from that. Unedited and really just a little blurb that I'm not sure really makes any sense. Anyway, thank you for reading!

There was a certain kind of peace that had settled upon you as you laid rotting away in your bed.

Your head was a mess, your room was trashed, and tear treks had seemed to stain your cheeks. You felt broken, shattered even, and it was a feeling that far surpassed the uselessness you’d felt when you’d picked up your first injury and had been taken out of football for months. The feeling was harsh and stinging, like a wave slapping up against the shore and eroding away at your aching heart, little by little until there was nothing left. 

Yet, the fact that life was flowing seamlessly without you was both painful and, well… peaceful. You yearned to be needed and to be loved. You wanted someone, anyone, to reach out and ask you if you were okay. As you picked up your phone, however, you were reminded of the fact that everybody was fine without you.

Better off without you, even. 

The images which had caused you to throw your phone to the side anyway were blown up images that you’d discovered on “X”. Leah Williamson, the woman you loved– had loved, and the woman who had loved you back for years, with her arms wrapped around some dark-haired woman with a tattoo on her forearm. The pose was inherently friendly, but the look in their eyes was anything but. 

Leah’s blue eyes, so bright and curious, excited and adorable in every way, were focused on the girl like they’d once been focused on you. Leah looked at the woman like she was her whole world, and you felt like everything you’d known had been a lie. 

Leah's eyes, her smile, her posture screamed happiness. She looked happy without you, happier now that you weren't beside her, and you swore you could feel the crack in your chest literally expand.

Leah looked like she was in love. You’d only ever seen her look at you like that, and it was a sensation and gaze that you’d memorized like the back of your hand. Now, it felt wrong that something that used to be so personal to you was directed at another woman. 

In fact, you’d loved Leah for longer than you could count back. She’d been the first person you’d ever been with, and the one who had taught you what love was. She’d been there for all of your firsts, accepting and reassuring.

You were each other’s person.

Until you weren’t anymore.

The split had been rather sudden, or so you thought. It had happened only a week ago, spurred forward by Leah grabbing both of your hands in hers over dinner. You were in London for the first time in a month, happy to be spending time beside Leah once more during the international break. 

Honestly, you’d been foolish enough to think that she was going to propose to you and get down on one knee for you. Your heart had been erratically in your chest, suddenly nervously excited for what was to come.

Instead, she’d told you that she thought the two of you would be better off as friends. Your heart broke. 

In the snap of a moment, you’d gone from having the woman you’d loved and lived beside for years in another woman’s arms, and the thought pained you like nothing else. You’d lost the life you’d built beside each other and had had no time to prepare for the loss. You had yet to get used to the feeling of sleeping alone, cooking for one, speaking up into the space of your bedroom and sitting, waiting for an answer that would never come because Leah was no longer there to answer you. 

Sure, you were used to living on your own, but you’d always lived with the idea of Leah, at the very least. You felt empty without her there, knowing that if you texted her, or called her, she wouldn’t answer. 

You had thought that Leah leaving you would be the worst, and the last, of the situation. 

You couldn’t have been any more wrong.

There were parts of Leah still living in your home in Barcelona, separated by more than a thousand kilometers. You found her in the foods that were still sitting in your cabinets, the ones that she’d liked that you’d refused to eat. Leah, ever the picky eater, something which had once made you smile and giggle as you’d made fun of her but now made you cry ever harder. You couldn’t find it in yourself to donate them or throw them away quite yet, a part of you hoping she’d be back soon to come eat them. 

You saw Leah in the decorations on the couch, in the candles on your kitchen counter, and in the hoodie that was drooped over one of your stools. They were all signs that Leah was coming back, that this was all just temporary.

The photo on your phone was a sign that all of your hopes that Leah would be coming back were just that, hopes. 

There was more, however, in the form of the messages. Thousands of private messages over the forms of social media you had on your phone, speculating your relationship and split, calling you names, wishing death and torture upon you for “hurting Leah”. You weren’t sure where they’d all stemmed from, but the messages were thrown towards you like arrows out of a bow, slicing and stabbing and cutting at all of the parts of you which were still sensitive and more.

The comments picked at your insecurities– you weren’t enough for Leah, and you knew that, especially now. The comments, however, affirmed that, telling you everything you’d feared for years over and over again. Leah had had to reassure you a few times throughout your relationship that you were enough for her. 

Apparently, she had been wrong. Or you had been wrong to have believed her, for even a split second. 

A sob broke from your lips, one of many which had been consuming the silence of your home in the past week. You’d managed to avoid going to training, having told Jonatan that you were ill. You knew, however, that your excuses would not last. 

You wondered when everything had gone wrong, when Leah had stopped feeling for you what you felt for her. You wondered if she’d ever loved you, and you wondered if you’d just created a false image in your head of the happy life you two were supposed to be living. 

She’d moved on so fast, and yet you were still stuck in the restaurant where she’d first broken up with you. You replayed the moment on repeat, and heard the words that Leah had uttered, foreign-sounding and heavy on her tongue, meaningful in a way that you’d never thought would be directed towards you. You felt your heart dropping in your chest, again and again, cracking and shattering with every time it was dropped… and every time Leah failed to catch it. 

Another cry burst from your lips, so loud that you didn’t hear the knocks that came from your door. Or, maybe, it was just your heart beating so harshly in your head that you failed to hear anything else. You blocked out the noises outside of your sad little bubble until it was rather suddenly burst. 

“Oh, niña. It’s okay, shhhh.” The voice was soft, accented in a way that was familiar to you. 

You didn’t know when Alexia had arrived, but you were oh-s0-glad for the feeling of her arms wrapping tightly around your shaking body. Another sob wracked through your body as you pressed your head into the space between Alexia’s shoulder and neck. Your captain’s hand rubbed reassuringly at your back as she continued to talk to you.

She spoke mostly in Spanish, which you only understood a part of. However, her voice was calming all the same. 

“Shhh nena, está bien. Todo va a estar bien, shhh.” You understood that, and everything inside you screamed that nothing would ever be okay again. 

Alexia’s heavy hand rested on your shoulder, now, as she sensed you calming down.

“Quieres- do you want t0 hablar de eso? Talk about it?” Alexia’s voice was so, so soft. She treated you like cracking glass, hands soothing and voice sweet. It was what you needed in the moment as you shook your head and curled further into the other woman once more, quiet. 

Alexia took your silence as an answer, wrapping her arms around you once more. It was quiet, now.

It was true.

You didn’t think that anything would be okay ever again. In Alexia’s arms, however, you felt like things could be okay, maybe. You felt like, even though your life with Leah had ended, your life without her could continue to flow by just as seamlessly as everyone else’s seemed to.

Maybe, just maybe, you could be okay.

[zapreportsblog]

Baby Come Back

➥ summary: miles misses his girl even though he won’t admit to to himself or anyone else, but when he sees her starting to move on without him, naw that settles it. It’s time to win his baby girl back

➥ a/n: this was inspired by @laaailuh fic “I Miss You”

The tension in the air was palpable as Miles Morales, also known as the Prowler, and his girlfriend (y/n) stood face to face in his small apartment. Their voices were raised, and emotions ran high, as they found themselves entangled in a heated argument.

"I can't do this anymore, Miles!" (y/n) exclaimed, her eyes filled with frustration and hurt. "You've been distant, shutting me out, and taking your anger out on me. It's not fair!"

Miles clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to express the turmoil inside him. "I know I've been a mess since my dad died," he admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But I'm trying to deal with it in my own way."

(y/n) took a step back, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. "I understand that you're going through a lot, but you can't just push me away and expect me to stick around," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I need to be with someone who can share their pain with me, not shut me out."

Miles felt a surge of guilt wash over him, knowing that he had been unfair to (y/n). He loved her deeply, but the darkness of his grief had consumed him, making it difficult for him to see beyond his own pain.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I need you, (y/n). Please, don't leave."

(y/n)'s eyes welled up with tears, torn between her love for Miles and the toll his emotional distance was taking on her. "I love you too, Miles, but I can't keep being hurt like this," she said, her voice choked with sadness. "You need to confront your grief and find a way to heal, for both of us."

As the words hung in the air, the weight of their unresolved issues seemed to crush them both. (y/n) turned away, unable to bear the pain in Miles' eyes, while he struggled to find the strength to let her go.

In the following days, the silence between them grew heavy and suffocating. They tried to carry on with their lives separately, but their hearts longed for the comfort and love they once shared.

One evening, as the sun set over the city, (y/n) made her decision. She couldn't keep waiting for Miles to heal on his own. She knew that it was time to face the truth and let go, even if it broke her heart.

She went to Miles' apartment, her footsteps echoing with each heavy step. The door opened, and Miles stood before her, his eyes red and swollen, a reflection of the pain he carried.

"I can't keep pretending that everything is okay," (y/n) said softly, her voice wavering. "I need to put myself first, and that means letting go."

Tears streamed down Miles' cheeks as he nodded, his heart aching with the weight of their decision. "I don't want to lose you, but I know I've been pushing you away," he said, his voice choked with regret. "I'm so sorry for hurting you."

They stood there, facing each other, knowing that their love wasn't enough to mend the broken pieces of their hearts. Their bond had been strong, but the weight of grief had shattered it.

With one last embrace, (y/n) turned away, her heart breaking as she walked away from the man she loved. The tears flowed freely as she left behind the life they once shared, but she knew that it was the right decision for both of them.

In the days that followed, the void left by their breakup was a constant reminder of the love they had lost. Miles faced his grief head-on, seeking counseling and support from friends and family, determined to find a way to heal.

And though they had parted ways, the memories of their love lingered in the corners of their hearts. The road ahead was uncertain, but they both knew that their journey towards healing had only just begun.

•••

In the days that followed the breakup, Miles Morales, also known as the Prowler, became even more withdrawn and closed off. The pain of losing (y/n) weighed heavily on his heart, and he found solace in isolating himself from his friends and emotions. He had always been good at hiding his feelings behind the mask of the prowler, but now it seemed like he was hiding from himself too.

At school, Miles tried to maintain a façade of indifference, a mask that he wore to shield himself from the questions and concerns of his friends. As he walked through the halls, he could feel the worried glances of his classmates, but he pretended not to notice.

During lunchtime, others approached him cautiously, their concern evident in their expressions. "Hey, Miles, are you doing okay?" Stu asked, his voice soft and caring.

He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to deflect their worries. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied with a forced smile. "It just didn't work out with (y/n), you know? It's whatever."

Stu exchanged a concerned glance with Anthony, realizing that Miles was trying to hide his pain. "You sure, man? We're here for you if you need to talk," he said gently.

Miles nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to share the turmoil inside him. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine," he insisted, avoiding eye contact with his friends. "I've got other stuff to focus on."

Just then the bell rang signaling that it was time for class.

As Miles sat in his classroom, his mind preoccupied with his own thoughts and emotions, he couldn't help but notice that (y/n) was just a few seats ahead of him. His heart clenched as he saw someone pass her a note discreetly.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the exchange. He could feel a pang of jealousy stirring within him, a reminder of the connection they once shared.

Trying to focus on the lesson, he fought the urge to look again. But as the minutes ticked by, his mind kept wandering back to the note. He couldn't shake the feeling of being left out, of no longer being a part of her life.

When the class finally ended, Miles gathered his belongings, but his feet felt heavy as he made his way towards the exit. He knew he should be moving on, but seeing (y/n) with someone else reminded him of what he had lost.

As he walked past her, he couldn't help but glance in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and a mix of emotions washed over him. He wanted to say something, to reach out to her, but his pride held him back.

In the bustling school hallway, Miles mustered the courage to call out to (y/n) as she was making her way to her next class. "Hey, (y/n)!" he said, his voice a mix of nervousness and hope.

She turned around, surprised to see him, but she managed a polite smile. "Hey, Miles. What's up?" she asked, her guard up, unsure of what he wanted to talk about.

"I was wondering if we could meet up after school," he said, his eyes earnest. "There's something I really need to talk to you about."

(y/n) hesitated, her heart still guarded, but she knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't resolve anything. "Miles, I don't think there's a need for us to talk," she replied, her voice measured. "It's all been said, hasn't it?"

Miles took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words he wanted to say. "Please, cariño" he implored, "I just need a chance to explain and apologize. There's so much I want to say, and I can't keep pretending like everything's okay."

Her resolve softened as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. With a small sigh, she relented. "Okay, fine," she said, "but just this once, and only because I think we both deserve some closure."

•••

After school, they met at a nearby park, finding a quiet bench to sit on. The air between them was tense, but there was an unspoken understanding that they needed to have this conversation.

Miles began, his words slow and heartfelt. "I'm sorry,cariño, for shutting you out and being distant," he said, his voice tinged with remorse. "I've been dealing with so much since my dad's passing, and I didn't know how to handle it. But that's not an excuse for treating you the way I did."

She listened attentively, the wall around her heart slowly starting to crumble. "I know it was hard for you," she said softly, "but it was hard for me too. I felt like you pushed me away, and it hurt."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Miles replied, his gaze downcast. "I never meant to hurt you, (y/n). I just... I didn't know how to handle my emotions, and I thought if I pushed you away, it would protect you from my pain."

Her heart softened as she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. "You don't have to protect me, Miles," she said gently. "I wanted to be there for you, to help you through your grief."

He reached out and took her hand, his grip gentle yet pleading. "I wish I had let you in," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I wish I had talked to you about everything, instead of shutting you out."

Silence settled between them, the weight of their emotions palpable. (y/n) finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness. "I miss you too, mi amor," she admitted, her eyes welling up with tears. "I miss us, but I don't know if we can go back to how things were."

Miles nodded, understanding the complexity of their situation. "I don't expect things to go back to normal right away," he said. "I just hope that we can find a way to move forward, even if it's not together."

Her heart ached, torn between the love she still felt for him and the uncertainty of their future. "I need time to heal too," she said softly. "But I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."

And so, beneath the setting sun, they started to open up to each other, their words filled with both pain and hope. As they talked, they realized that they needed to be honest about their feelings, even if it meant facing the difficult truths they had been avoiding.

Their conversation was raw and emotional, but it was a start. A start towards healing, towards understanding, and towards finding closure. Whether their paths would converge again or lead in different directions, they both knew that they had grown from their experiences and that they would always cherish the love they once shared.

[andrastepls]

A/SMR.

synop: reader lost her hearing after an explosion, simon has an idea to help her ‘hear’ him again

warnings: none i think ? canon typical violence & loss of hearing maybe knda spicy

not proofread we die like men

Adjusting to life without sound had been a trial on its own. It was something no-one really prepared for — silly as it seemed, now. Bombs and guns going off right next to a person for any amount of time was bound to cause damage at one point or another. Or, maybe, she just had shit luck.

The blast had come and gone so quickly, she had no time to react. No one did. It missed anything vital, but it had sent her rocketing into a wall; promptly breaking her arm, a few ribs, and rupturing her eardrums all in one fell swoop. If nothing else, recovery went relatively smoothly. As smoothly as it could have, at any rate, what with Soap and Gaz being absolutely glued to the chairs in the infirmary. Even getting kicked out a few times — luckily, Price and the Lt. were a little less chaotic. Be it because the medic on-site had a soft spot, or because Simon had intimidated the poor guy, he had been allowed to spend the first two nights in the infirm with her.

Being tucked away in his arms did wonders for her anxiety, but the cot was a bit small for him alone, let alone the pair of them. Blessedly, she had been given the okay to return to her own quarters after that.

A few months later, and her bones were good and well healed, but her ears were another story. The specialist kind. The off-duty kind. The waitlist was long, and going home, alone, in the quiet, sounded like her own personal hell. So, she stayed on base to wait it out.

The silence was her enemy, deafening in its lack of any and everything. She swore she could forget the music the world made in a moment without it. It was cold, void and lonely. Missing out on jokes, not ever hearing the booming shouts and laughter of the boys. Sounds she never thought she’d miss.

It didn’t go unnoticed. For all his grumbling and brooding, Ghost was terribly good at being good company. She was thankful for him, at least. Perhaps now more than ever. He was . . . oddly tentative of her. Making a point to brush a hand against her when he was near, what was previously a hovering palm near her back was now an open-handed reminder someone was there.

He made learning to sign feel so much easier. Subbing out some signs for military signals. A natural transition, when the other person knew how to speak it — even when he didn’t need to.

It was a kindness done solely for her benefit; a fact in which he would never admit, but she knew it to be true nevertheless.

• • •

She felt out of practice. Clumsy and uncertain of herself when he touched her, nothing like herself, and he noticed. He pulls back from her, hands curving through the space between their chests to say, “You okay?”

She swallows, looking away. Embarrassment flushes her cheeks a shade of maroon, the heat of it crawling up her neck.

“It’s not you.” she signs back after a beat, eyes finding his with nothing short of pleading in her irises, “I miss you. But the sound - ”

Lithe hands flop into her lap. She feels . . . inadequate. Incomplete. Hateful, to herself, knowing that she can’t be who he loved first anymore, “I miss hearing you.” it was a cruel thing for the universe to do to her; give her a man to fall in love with, a voice that lulled her to sleep, filled her heart, tightened her legs — and then take it away from her. Leaving her in this muffled prison.

He makes a face at that - not one of ill intent or anything of the sort - rather, one of confusion. She missed hearing him?

He never thought his voice to be something worth missing; though, he quickly understands when his mind wonders what never hearing her again would be like. His girl is quieter now, to be sure. But he can still hear her - the little noises she makes, when she hums to herself without noticing . . . among other noises . . .

There’s a moment where he stays still, only his eyes moving between the two. She’s about to lift her hands so say something else, but he promptly cuts her off by taking one of her wrists between his fingers. Encouraging her to open her hand and bringing her palm up to rest around his throat.

She pauses, wide eyes blinking between their hands and his face — that frustrating little smirk of his curling his lips upward at the corners. She can’t make sense of what he’s doing at first, canting her head to the side like a confused dog, and then, he hums. The sound vibrating against her fingers. Her jaws drops open slightly in shock, eyes locked between her hand and his mouth, wanting to say ‘again’.

Alas, he was a step ahead of her, and mumbles out her name in a breath. Feeling her name in his throat before reading it on his lips.

Hm.

A/N: i dont know its 1am !!

[mcu-coworkers]

Jealousy

Summary: Miguel can't seem to get his way and for reasons he couldn't believe.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: None(sneaky Miguel)

A/n: here is pt.3 I hope you guys enjoy I will be giving a pt.4 which will be the final part if anyone would like to be tagged just let me know and I'll be happy to! I hope I got every one who wanted to be tagged in Pt.3 there were so many of you and I just want to sat thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my story! I hope you guys enjoy!xx

Tags list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @m4zapan @luciiferian @stinygirl009 @anonymoussomebody345 @watamoteru @smolrain08 @amberpanda99 @hantheconqueror @mhm-ok-sure @chuckle-nuts. @a-helpless-romantic @witchofwhimsey @rin-matsuoka345-blog @cherripunch26 @anneliese500 @theleftkittycollection @ok-boke @nanushkka @gugggu6gvai @joestarbitch @distractionforyourthoughts @tanchosanke @lokiseason @hao-ming-8 @sport-lova @munixumai @capybaraaa . @dearrdarlingg @riddle-me-im-sirius @melovetitties @liyanahelena @bat1212 @christinesdemoness1958 @musicpookie @luujjvi @ilovejeansosomuch @m0chac0ffee @perrierbottleofproblems @zayxcc @shyshyshy-19 @futuristicpandakid @lilyevans1

Parts: One Two Three^ Four

Credits to the owner:)^

It had been quite a few months since you removed yourself from the spider society.

You thought that in doing so you lost your friends but Pete, Hobbie, and Gwen all stuck by your side and visited you every now and then.

Not all at once, you didn't want Miguel to figure out that they were coming to you and yell at them for it or worse, come too.

In that aspect everything was great.

When it came to your healing journey, you had good days and bad days.

Or more like bad nights.

During the day you kept busy working in your world's Alchemax, and at night you dealt with spider business which was slow this time around.

This is when you found yourself thinking about him.

The silence of the city only made your thoughts louder and all they reminded you of was Miguel.

But you hadn't given up on your promise to yourself, you would move on.

And then you decided to get a dog.

He was the best choice you could have made, your sweet little milo.

May Day absolutely loved him, she wanted to bring him to her birthday party but to be honest you didn't even know if you’d be taking yourself.

Pete didn't want to hide anything from you so he told you as soon as he found out that Miguel actually agreed to not just let him throw her party at HQ but go to it as well.

Risking him speaking to you and ruining all of your growth was not in your plans.

You had to be honest with yourself, if Miguel spoke to you with the slightest warth you knew you’d break so for your own sake staying away from him was best.

So, that's where you were with all of this, sitting on a rooftop enjoying a slice of pizza thinking about whether you should show up tomorrow or not.

Deciding to call it a night on saving the city you swung home looking forward to Milo’s greeting cuddles.

Back at HQ Miguel watched as everyone scurried to put together the decorations for May Day's birthday.

The chaos was loud and he almost regretted agreeing to it.

“Ay dios.” he mumbled as he walked past Gwen and Hobbie pretending they were there.

“So you think she’ll come? May Day is her favorite spider. She wouldn't miss it, right?” he heard Gwen say.

Suddenly he froze.

“There is a chance if you ask me.  I   believe in her.” Hobbie replied webbing up the sign he was putting on the wall, much easier than tape.

Miguel began walking again hoping no one would notice how he stopped to listen in on the conversation.

Walking into his office space he called for Lyla, “Give me the list of spiders coming to this party.” he said pulling up his screens.

“But boss, that's hundreds?” she asked confused but the request.

“That's fine, just give it to me, Please.” he asked, growing impatient with his AI.

“Alright calm down here it is, Who are we looking for anyways?” she said, sliding it over to him.

“No one, just making sure its a safe list.” he said looking over his shoulder.

Bles mary janes heart for added the yes, no and maybe option it made him easier to see who was actually coming.

All the names had a yes except for one, one big red MAYBE and it was next to yours.

Shoulders dropping in slight disappointment he let out a sigh.

These past months he’d been gloomy.

The only time he perked up was at the mention of your name, but sadly that's as close he got to you these days.

He found out that Pete, Hobbie, Gwen and even fucking Miles anomaly Morales snuck off to see you.

He was jealous.

He hated that you let them into your life.

Each time they came back laughing about something you said, he was jealous.

Everytime they mentioned a fun moment you shared, he was burning in jealousy.

It made him sick. 

His blood boiled knowing someone else was making you laugh when he just wanted to have you to himself.

He liked it when you spent hours in his office “helping him” with reports.

He only ever gave you simple tasks just to keep you at his side.

To watch your face when you were focused on the footage, the way you bite your lip when you think you're getting close. 

The way you kept eye contact and showed interest in whatever it was he said made him think about other things you could do together whilst keeping eye contact.

God, you drove him insane in the best way.

But not having you close like that was driving him insane in the worst way.

Spiders voluntarily left him alone now not wanting to cross him on a bad which now was very frequent.

The only reason he stuck around at the end of team briefings was to see if he’d hear any news on you.

He didn't think anyone noticed his intent, But then there was Jess always on his six.

She knew from day one that you had fallen, but oh was he gonna fall harder and he did.

She saw the way he searched for you in a room, how he’d ask you and only you to help him on reports.

Nothing went past her.

“Did a villain sneak onto the list?” she said, creeping up behind him.

Quickly removing the screen he looked over his shoulder letting out a simple shrug to answer her.

“Just want to see who   I‘ll be dealing with for the evening.” he said trying to cover up his annoyance.

“Anyone stand out?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope. All good.” he said standing up, “  I‘ll see you tomorrow Jess, get some rest.” he said leaving his office.

Smiling to herself, Jess knew he was slowly breaking down. 

All it would take to finish the job was see you.

She knew you had RSVP’d to come yesterday but she made Lyla change it just to confirm her suspicions further.

And he did just that.

----

Mentally preparing yourself for today was the hardest part.

You planned out your evening.

Go in, greet everyone, stick to Hobbie, Gwen and Miles, hold May Day, and then make the excuse that Milo had an accident and you had to get back home.

A solid plan.

Suddenly a portal opened and in walked Hobbie, “My lady.” he greeted extending an arm.

Taking his hand you stood up, “Oh, one sec.” you said as you sent a signal activating your suit.

“Woaahhh the new suit is wicked.” he said watching it go on.

“It's nano tech, you like it?” you said as it reached up to your neck before stopping. 

“Killin it, as always.” he said before walking into the portal.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Be good Milo, Mommy will be home soon.” you said, patting his sleepy head before walking in.

Deep breath, here goes nothing.

Walking in you put on your brightest smile.

“Hey! There she is and get a look at this suit, this new?  I   like it!” Peter yelled, taking your hand and spinning you.

“Hey guys! Nice to see everyone again, Miles nice to meet you.” you said laughing.

“Nice to meet you, very nice lady, thank you for not hunting me down.” he said, shaking your hand viciously.

Laughing at your inside joke you pulled him in for a hug secretly taking a peak over his shoulder.

You could feel his stare on you, you just didn't know from where.

The party went on as planned, you stayed cautious, had  a good time with your friends and held May Day until she eventually fell asleep.

Everyone told you that you had a gentle way when it came to kids so falling asleep just came to them naturally.

Taking that as your sign to leave you handed her over to Mary Jane and went to go look for Hobbie.

“Hey, has anyone seen Hobbie?” you asked not being able to find him.

“Rooftop, girly pop.” you heard Jess say as she hugged you goodbye.

“Oh great, we can open a portal there. Bye guys guess  I‘ll  see you around.” you said waving to the rest of the spiders.

Making your way up you looked around the rooftop to find it empty.

Huh. Maybe he went for a swing. You thought looking over the city.

He’d been told a couple times not to but that only made him do it more.

“He’s not here.” you heard behind you. Well shit.

“Thanks Jess.” you heard making you chuckle to yourself.

Of course.

“Well then it makes no use to stay up here.” you said turning to walk away.

“Wait, just give me a second.” he said, reaching out for you.

“One. Welp there is it and look I've given you five extra just by standing here.” you said sarcastically.

Trying to leave once more he actually Physically got in your way this time.

“Please.” he said trying to get you to look at him and you could've sworn you heard sincerity in there.

“Fine. talk.” you said crossing you arms sitting on the ledge trying to create some distance.

“ I   am sorry,” he blurted out.

“ I   don't forgive you. We done here? Great.” you said standing up ready to bee line it for the door.

Your tactics were failing you and your front could only last for so long.

“No no wait just-” he was cut off  by a beeping sound coming from your suit.

It was your alarm for Milo’s dinner time.

Gasping you stood up from where you sat.

“Oh Milo.” you said turning off the alarm.

“What? Who the fuck is Milo?” he said anger began to rise up in his chest.

“Really wish we could finish this but  I‘m late to a very important dinner with someone who does respect me, so excuse me.” you said finally getting past him.

Stunned  by your response he watched you walk past him.

Who in the actual fuck was Milo and what rights did he have over you?

Following you back into the party he watched as you asked Pete to get you back home.

“Oh yeah sure, How's Milo by the way?” he asked while opening the portal.

Again with this fucking Milo.

“Oh he's really great, miss him more every second we're apart.” you said, putting your hands on your hips.

Time was moving real slow right about now.

But for Miguel it was moving a little too fast, he didn't want you to get back to Milo. 

He wanted you here, patching things up with him.

“Gotta love Milo am  I   right? May Day sure does.” he said, quickly shutting up when he realized Miguel was still there.

“Well thanks for the portal, tell Mj the party was great, take care pete.” you said hugging him goodbye.

Just as you are about to be free Miguel grabs your hand.

“Will you come back, Please?” he asked, the desperation in his voice could be heard from miles away.

“ I   don't think so Miguel,  it took me a while to realize that there was nothing wrong with me. And Milo helped with that even if it's just been a couple of months and  I‘m still getting the hang of things. He loves me for it and he needs me.” you said, smiling at the thought of your sweet little furbaby.

Standing up straight Miguel let your arm go, “Lucky Milo.” was all he said before you took it as your queue to leave.

Defeated by the night's outcome he went back into his office and let out some frustration on the nearest machine.

There it was again, feeling sick of jealousy.

Someone else had your attention, time and love.

And all he had was your rejection.

At this point in time Miguel wished he was anybody else other than himself.

And just like that jealousy started following him wherever he went, never letting him go.

All because of some Milo.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Satoru sat nervously at a corner table in the quaint café, fiddling with his coffee cup as he stole glances at the girl across from him. She was animatedly discussing her favorite book, her eyes sparkling with passion. Satoru found himself captivated by her enthusiasm, her words weaving a tapestry of imagination and wonder.

Yet, amidst her lively chatter, Satoru couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of your absence. Your memory lingered like a ghost in the air, casting a shadow over his newfound happiness. He tried to push aside the guilt that gnawed at him, but it clung to him like a stubborn shadow.

Certain things the girl did, her mannerisms, her laughter, it all reminded him of you. His mind began to drift back to memories of you – your laughter echoing in the corners of his mind, the soft touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace, your gentle kisses, all of it. He could still hear the sound of your voice, gentle and soothing, like a melody that once filled his days with joy.

The girl’s laughter interrupted his reverie, drawing him back to the present. She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she leaned forward, her enthusiasm contagious. “Isn’t it amazing?” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. “The way words can transport you to another world?”

Satoru nodded, offering a faint smile in return. “Yeah, it’s… it’s incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He wanted to immerse himself in her enthusiasm, to lose himself in the magic of her words. But a part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that he was betraying you, that he was moving on too soon.

The girl tilted her head, her gaze softening as she studied him. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle and concerned. “You seem… distant.”

Satoru forced a smile, trying to push aside the turmoil churning inside him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice barely concealing the tremor of uncertainty. “Just… lost in thought, I guess.”

Suddenly, after he spoke those six words, it was as if everything went still, like time stopped completely. Satoru didn’t seem to notice, his eyes still locked on his coffee cup. That was until he heard a voice he never thought he would hear again.

”Hello, my love~” You said, your voice echoing throughout the room.

Satoru’s gaze swiftly shifted, and there, across from him, he beheld your apparition seated beside the girl. Your eyes, brimming with love and understanding, met his, casting a spectral presence amidst the ordinary ambiance of the café. You appeared like an angel descended from above, adorned with a radiant glow enveloping your form, your hair and eyes as resplendent as he remembered. Truly, you were ethereal in every sense.

Your presence was unmistakable, your soul reaching out to him across the void to deliver a message of love and acceptance.

Satoru's breath caught in his throat as he looked into your eyes, not sure how this was happening. But all he knew was that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, your presence a bittersweet reminder of the love he had lost and the pain that still lingered within him.

He reached out a trembling hand, wanting to touch you, to feel the warmth of your presence one last time. Tears welled in Satoru’s eyes as he whispered your name, a prayer on his lips. “Y/n…”

You smiled up at him, holding your hand out for him to grab. His fingers quickly laced with yours, a warm and comforting feeling running all through his body as he felt your touch once more.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, my sweet Toru~” You spoke softly, caressing his face from across the table.

Tears were overflowing his face, his heart breaking every second that passed as he felt you.

”Wh-what are you doing here? H-How are you even here?” He questioned, but you just bring his hand up to your lips, giving him a quick peck.

”Do not worry about that, my love. There are other important matters I want to talk to you about before I take my leave.” You finished, caressing your thumb over the back of his hand.

”Leave? No, please, don’t leave me again, Y/n. I…I can’t live without you. I miss you so much.” He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly at him, a soft chuckle emitting from your lips. ”I will never leave you, Toru,” you replied, your smile never faltering. “I’ll always be with you, in your heart and in your memories. And wherever you go, whatever you do, I’ll be watching over you, guiding you along the way.”

Your presence lingered, even as Satoru’s attention turned back to the girl sitting across from him. He couldn’t help but notice how her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth and kindness, how her laughter filled the air with joy. And yet, despite her charms, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she paled in comparison to you.

As he looked back at you, your hands still intertwined, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him. How could he move on with someone else when his heart still belonged to you?

“She seems nice,” you spoke, your voice soft and gentle.

Satoru nodded, his throat tightening with emotion. “She is, but she’s nothing like you, Y/n. I…I think I need to cut ties with her before it’s too late. I can’t imagine going out with someone else who isn’t you,” he admitted, tears still falling down his face.

You smiled again, your touch like a soothing balm on his wounded heart. Gently, you leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss against his tear-stained cheek.

“Toru,” you whispered, your voice filled with love and understanding. “It’s okay to let go. It’s okay to find happiness again, even if it’s in someone else’s arms. I want you to be happy, more than anything in this world. I mean, It’s been five years since I’ve passed…it’s time for you to embrace the life that awaits you. You deserve to be happy, to find love and joy once more.”

Satoru shook his head, unable to accept the truth of your words. “But how can I move on without you? You were everything to me, Y/n. Without you, I’m lost.”

Your smile softened, a gentle reassurance in your eyes. “You were and still are my everything too, Toru. But love is not confined to the boundaries of this world. It transcends time and space, connecting us in ways that defy understanding.”

As your words sank in, Satoru felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life within him. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to honor your memory while still embracing the future that lay ahead.

“But what if I forget you?” he whispered, his voice tinged with fear.

You shook your head, giggling a bit, your hand tightening around his. “You could never forget me, Toru. I will always be a part of you, woven into the fabric of your being. And no matter where life takes you, my love will always be there to guide you.”

Satoru’s heart ached at your words, torn between his longing for you and his desire to move forward. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw nothing but love and acceptance, a silent blessing for the path he had yet to tread.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way, my love. But I cannot change what has happened. What I can do is help you find your peace. And help you realize that no matter what, I will be waiting for you on the other side with open arms when its your time. But for now,” You began, slowly fading away, your form dissolving into the stillness that surrounded them. You grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes, going in for one last kiss.

“It’s time to move on and be happy again~”

Satoru watched you go, his heart heavy with sorrow yet buoyed by a newfound sense of peace.

”I love you, Y/n~” He whispered as he felt your hand disappear.

”I love you, my Toru. Forever and always~” You finished as you finally disappeared into thin air.

After your ethereal presence faded away, leaving Satoru with a bittersweet ache in his heart, the world around him slowly began to stir back to life. Time resumed its steady march forward, the hustle and bustle of the café gradually filling the air once more.

Satoru blinked, his gaze drifting from the empty space where you had been sitting to the girl across from him. She watched him with concern, her eyes reflecting the warmth and compassion that had drawn him to her in the first place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft with genuine concern.

Satoru nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he replied, his voice steady. "Yeah, I think I am."

And with those words, he reached out to her, his hand finding hers in the space between them.

As they talked, the café buzzed with life around them, the clink of cups and the murmur of conversation blending into a comforting backdrop. And in that moment, Satoru realized that he wasn’t just sharing a cup of coffee with a girl – he was opening his heart to the possibility of a new beginning.

And as they sat there, hands entwined, Satoru realized that he wasn't just letting go of his grief – he was embracing the possibility of a future filled with love and happiness, guided by the memory of the one he had lost but never forgotten.

He looked out the window, seeing your figure once more with a bright smile on your face as you saw him learning to move on.

“Until we meet again, my love~” You whispered, disappearing back to the afterlife.

_____________________

Currently crying and throwing up after writing this T.T

[fxrmuladaydreams]

sober realizations (cs55)

carlos x mclaren social media!reader

summary: carlos realizes just what he’s lost and it destroys him

notes: this is the final part to this little series, there will be no more after this

prev part

Carlos could feel the guilt eating away at him, everyday the feeling growing stronger. He can’t help it, not when you look up at him and make his heart do somersaults in his chest with something as simple as your smile.

He enjoys having you near him, close to him, more than he thought he would. He likes feeling you pressed up against him when you sleep, he likes being able to hold you in his arms.

He almost stops breathing when you ask him to make your relationship public. Of course he wants to be able to show you off, to be able to call you his love in front of other people, but he knows that sooner or later the bet will come back to bite him in the ass.

He can feel the disappointment radiating off of you when he tells you that he wants to keep your relationship private. His heart breaks at the frown that rest on your face.

“I want to kiss you in the paddock.” Your words are soft, as if saying them too loud will break an unspoken rule. “I want to be able to kiss you in front of other people, maybe then Lando will stop with the teasing.”

“You want to kiss me in front of Lando?” Carlos tries to lighten the mood, to bring back your smile, and he feels relief when you laugh.

“No, I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want to. Whether that be in front of Lando or not.”

He wants that too, but he knows kissing in front of Lando will eventually turn into kissing in front of Pierre and Lance.

“I don’t know mi amor.” He sighs. “I don’t want anyone else to ruin what we have.”

He feels bad when you sigh and lean your head back down against his chest, defeated.

He thinks over it in his head. Maybe, maybe it would be okay if you went public. He’d have to talk with Pierre and Lance, make sure that they knew he wanted nothing to do with their bet anymore first, but maybe everything would work out.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, pulling you tighter against his chest. “If you really want to, we can go public.” He says softly.

You quickly lift your head up to look at him, and Carlos thinks the smile on your face is absolutely worth the risk.

Later that night he texts the two boys, making sure they know not to say anything.

To Pierre and Lance

The bet is off. Y/n and I are dating, and I really like her. She can’t find out about it.

They both reply, agreeing to forget the bet even happened.

Everything was going well, the rest of the grid supported their relationship, well Lando was a bit dramatic about it but you could tell he was happy for the couple. Of course there were some not so nice comments from fans on social media, but Carlos had made sure to praise you publicly any chance he had.

Though the two of you were happy as could be, Carlos still couldn’t get rid of the little nagging voice in the back of his head, reminding him of what he’d done to get to this point. It seemed like everyday he was looking at his phone, making sure he, nor Pierre or Lance, had said anything to anyone that might reveal what had happened.

He tried to brush it off whenever you asked him about it, shoving his phone in his pocket and instead just enjoying holding you in his arms.

As time went on the little voice in his head quieted down, to the point where he only thought about the bet once a day.

But it seemed there was a higher power that wanted to build him up, then promptly tear him down, because everything fell apart in Singapore.

Carlos felt like he was on a high he could never come down from. He was the first driver to break the Red Bull winning streak during the season. He was going to her his national anthem on the podium. And he had you by his side to experience the whole thing with him.

He grinned down at you from the top step of the podium, blowing you kiss. He sprayed champagne over you after he’d made sure to soak Lando as well.

After the race he was exhausted. He just wanted to stay in the hotel room with you and celebrate his win privately. His desire to keep you all to himself only grew when he saw you in that damned red dress.

He groans when he sees you, attempting to coerce you into ditching the club and staying in, but you want him to have his shining moment.

He made sure to keep you close to him in the club, afraid you’d get swept up in the crowd and disappear from his sight. He thanks everyone who congratulates him as you make your way through the crowd to the other drivers and WAGS.

“I’ll be right back amor.” He says as he presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving you with Lando to go talk to Pierre and Lance.

The two of them are very clearly celebrating Red Bull’s broken winning streak, throwing back drink after drink after drink. They cheer when Carlos walks up to them, only quieting down when they’re sushed.

“Y/n looks good tonight.” Lance says as he watches you with Lando.

Carlos snaps his fingers in front of his face to pull his attention back to him. “Yes, she looks beautiful. Now it’s very important that you don’t bring up the bet, alright, in fact, don’t even talk to her, ignore her.”

Pierre is about to respond when Carlos feels your arms wrap around his waist. He puts an arm over your shoulders and hopes that you can’t feel his heart beating out of his chest.

“They’re so cute!” Lance coos at you.

“You’ll have a great story for your kids about how you met.” Pierre laughs.

Carlos feels his blood run cold.

He tries to distract you, to pull you away from his two intoxicated friends before his secret begins to unravel, but he’s unsuccessful.

“It was all a bet?” You ask him, turning around with tears in your eyes.

Carlos hates this, he hates that he’s the cause of your pain. He reaches out, to hold you or wipe your tears away he doesn’t know. “Mi amor-”

“Don’t call me that.” You take a defiant step back from him, lulling yourself out of his reach.

Most of what happened next is fuzzy in Carlos’ mind, he was far too overwhelmed with the atmosphere of the club and the thought of you slipping through his fingers. Well, it’s all fuzzy until you question his feelings for you, asking if he had hired the photographer in Spain.

He’s quick to defend himself, telling you that his feelings for you were never fake, and that he would never hire someone to take photos of you like that.

He knows his fate is sealed when you leave him there after pulling cash from your bag and shoving it in his chest. He tries to follow you, to chase after you so he can fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but your words from earlier ring true. People wanted to celebrate Carlos. They pull him in different directions, acting as obstacles between him and you.

When he does finally manage to pull himself outside he practically spins around looking for you in all directions. You left without a trace though. He hates that you left him sure, but he can’t ignore the discomfort in his stomach at the thought of you walking back to the hotel alone at night in the middle of Singapore.

He sprints to his car, and breaks a handful of traffic laws just to get back to the hotel as quick as he can.

He runs to elevator, aggressively pushing the button for it, as if willing it to be faster. He takes quick strides to the door of your shared room.

He opens the door to find you hunched over your open suitcase that rests on the bed, shoving your clothes inside. When you turn back to look at him with your red eyes and tear stained cheeks it feels like someone’s stabbing a knife into his chest.

“Y/n, what are you doing? Where are you going?” He asks, attempting to pull your hands away from your suitcase, kneeling down next to the bed.

“I’m leaving Carlos. I’m going home.” You sniffle.

“The plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning.” He says.

“I found a flight that leaves tonight.” You tell him as you continue to shove clothes in your bag.

Carlos notices you’re still wearing your red dress, probably having decided that wearing the dress to the airport is the price you’re willing to pay to leave faster.

“Y/n, please, let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to explain Carlos. You made a bet with a few other drivers that you could get me to fall for you. And it worked. You won.” You sigh.

“But I promise you, I never lied about how I felt.”

“That doesn’t matter Carlos!” You exclaim, exasperated. “You took the bet. The reason you dated me and actually started getting feelings for me was because of a bet. Do you think you would’ve ever actually tried to approach me without the bet?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Exactly.” You sigh. “That bet was the foundation of our relationship. And I can’t live with that.” You zip up your suitcase. “I’m going to leave now, and you’re not going to follow me. Everything will go back to the way it was before. You stay on the Ferrari side of the paddock, and I’ll stay on the McLaren side. We never have to see or talk to each other again. We will go back to no longer existing in each other’s lives.”

“But I want you in mine.” Carlos stands up.

You shake your head. “I don’t want to see you right now Carlos. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to see you again. If you have any respect for me you’ll honor that.”

Carlos let’s his eyes take you in one last time, then gives you a stiff nod.

You leave him there, closing the door behind you before he lets his own tears fall from his eyes.

He become more invisible in the paddock, at least to you. He no longer walks past the McLaren building. He tries to distance himself from your area of the paddock. He becomes just a name on the grid, moving up and down as the races progress.

At the end of the first week you’re surprised to see an Instagram story he’s tagged you in. It’s a black screen with a generic font that writes out

Y/n and I are no longer together. Please respect our privacy, her’s most importantly.

You sigh and set your phone down. Lando sits across from you. He was furious when you told him what happened, promising that he had no idea what was going on. You believed him, and fell into the hug he had offered. Ever since he found out he had been by your side, acting as your guard dog. He was there to snap at paparazzi that tried to ask about the absence of Carlos in your life and yours in his, and keeping an eye out for a figure in red.

“You should just tell them what he did to you.” He suggests one day after a run in with various cameras.

“He’s your friend.” You shake your head.

“No. He’s an idiot. He deserves to face the repercussions of his actions.” He grunts.

You smile and shake your head. “Thank you Lando, but I’m fine.”

He gives you an unconvincing nod.

The truth is, you did start to feel fine after a while. You had grown used to your old routine again, even if a small part of you missed the Spaniard.

Carlos on the other hand was a mess. Everyone at Ferrari could tell. He was starting to become the shell of a person. Staring blankly into space when not in the car, yet driving with an agression they’d never seen from him before.

He did have a serious talk with his publicist and PR team amidst the breakup.

“I want those photos from Spain gone. I know we can’t control what fans post on social media, but I want any new site, any gossip pages to get rid of those photos. I don’t care how much it costs, I want them gone.” He figured that making sure the photos of the two of you on the beach were wiped from publications was just a small step in making things right.

He mostly kept to himself now, and was starting to show visible signs of a lack of care for himself. Dark circles appeared under his eyes, his once always perfect hair now laid flat on his head. Charles tried to coax him into social outings, but Carlos was quick to deny, instead choosing to stay by himself, getting more time in the gym or on the SIM.

Charles had come over to the McLaren building with a look of defeat on his face. Lando trked to shoo him away, claiming that Ferrari drivers were not allowed in the building. You brushed him off, inviting Charles to sit with you.

“How are you doing?” He asks.

You sigh. “I know you’re here to talk about Carlos.”

He nods. “He is not doing well Y/n…”

“Yeah? Well I’m hurt too-”

“No, of course he should be sad, what he did to you was horrible, and I’m sorry.” He tells you. “But he’s starting to look… unhealthy…”

“Unhealthy?”

Charles tells you about Carlos now, his insistence on overworking himself, piled on to his clear lack of sleep. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t hurt a little at that.

“I don’t expect you to just forgive him, but maybe talk to him? It could help him turn back into his old self…” Charles shrugs.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you for telling me Charles.” You nod and give him a quick hug before he leaves.

Races go by, and you can’t seem to find the strength to actually seek Carlos out. That is, until the Las Vegas Grand Prix.

It was exciting being in Vegas. You knew that you were going to have a lot of good opportunities to get some good social media content of the boys, but were deflated when you heard that the first free practice session hadn’t even lasted ten minutes.

You were shocked to hear that it was due to Carlos’ car hitting a drain cover, but relieved to hear he was okay.

You hung around the McLaren building waiting for the FIA to decide whether or not to continue with the first free practice, then to eventually start the second free practice. You struggled to keep your eyes open in the early hours of the morning, happy when you could all finally go get some sleep.

The next day the news was announced that Carlos would be facing a ten place grid penalty that resulted from his crash.

Surprised eyes watch you as you carefully step into the Ferrari building. No one stops you when you seem to take calculated steps to the driver’s room’s. You stop outside of Carlos’ room and take a deep breath. It had been a month and a half, surely by now you would be okay seeing him again.

There’s no answer when you knock on the door, but you hear a soft shuffling when you call out his name.

Carlos is just as surprised as everyone else when he peeks out the door and sees you, maybe even more so.

“Y/n… come in.” He steps to the side, opening his door further for you.

You take a few cautious steps inside. He tries to tidy up the small room, quickly throwing his clothes that lay haphazardly on his couch onto the shelf with his spare fireproofs.

You walk over and take a seat on the couch. He does as well, making sure to keep some space between you.

“I’m sorry about practice. And your car.” You say after a few minutes of silence.

“It’s okay.” He sighs.

“No it’s not. It’s not your fault the FIA didn’t properly cover the manholes on the track. It’s not right for them to give you a penalty because of it. You don’t deserve that-” You stop when you notice his staring at you. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

He gives you a small smile. He’d do anything to keep you here rambling away with him. He scoffs shaking his head. “I deserve a lot worse than a ten place grid penalty.”

“It looks like you’ve put yourself through worse recently. You need to take care of yourself Chili.” The nickname surprises the both of you, as does the soft hand to his cheek as you inspect his face.

You pull your hand away when you realize what you’ve done. Carlos immediately misses your warmth.

“I didn’t tell anyone…” You break the silence again.

“You should have.” He replies, looking down at his lap.

You shake your head. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with that out.”

“You’re far too kind to me mi amor.” Again, the term of endearment is accidental, something that wasn’t meant to fall from his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

A knock on his door cuts him off. “Carlos, we need you back in the garage in ten minutes.”

“I should probably go…” You slowly stands up.

“Right.” Carlos clears his throat, standing up as well. “Thank you. For coming by.”

You nod. You walk to the door, but stop, turning back to him. “If you ever want to stop by McLaren, for lunch or something…”

He nods. “I would love to.”

He feels his heart skip as you give him another small smile before leaving. You’ve given him the smallest second chance, but Carlos decides that he’s going to hold onto that and never let it go, because he’ll be damned if he screws this up a second time.

[fluentmoviequoter]

hiiiii ♡ would be able to write something where reader is Jason Todd's girlfriend, friends to lovers situation so they've known each other a long time but she doesn't know about any of the vigilante stuff, And one day she's late making her way back to thier apartment but Jason is also making his way home but he's still in all the Redhood gear and reader bumps into him and is absolutely terrified out of her mind like just in complete terror of him. And she runs home and locks the doors and the windows and is a little shaken up. Jason finally arrives home obviously not as redhood lol And anyway he has to comfort her and just how would he react knowing that he scared the shit out of her and that she's this much afraid of redhood

Hi!! Of course! This is my first Jason Todd request and I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I love him so much and this is an incredible idea. I added my own spin to the ending, but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, Dick Grayson is nosy

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: This isn't a specific adaptation/characterization of Jason Todd, but I do mention that he's built like a brick wall, so it's probably not Titans!Jason. The gif fit, though, so. If anyone has more Jason Todd requests, please send them!

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

The Man Under the Hood

“Are you going to tell her?” Dick asks, raising his gloved hand for Jason to hit.

“I don’t know,” Jason grunts between punches.

“She stayed through everything else.”

“We were friends then, it was different.”

Dick drops his hands, and Jason sighs, lowering his guard. Jason raises his eyebrows, preparing for one of Dick’s infamous lectures.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Dick begins before laughing at Jason’s surprised look. “I’m really not, but you’ve known her for a very long time. Just, don’t wait too long, because then it just looks like you don’t trust her.”

“It was different for you. Nightwing wasn’t feared. Telling her that I’m Red Hood tells her that I’ve done things that- that most people never consider.”

“She loves you. As you make the decision, just remember that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Growing up in Gotham and playing in the streets (even when you shouldn’t have) introduced you to Jason Todd very early. He quickly became your friend, and when you lost him, you were finally ready to admit you loved him. But it was too late. The feelings that you were trying to navigate multiplied tenfold, and every time you pass his grave, they come back to the surface.

The cemetery is on your way home, and sometimes you can’t help but walk in. You can navigate to his headstone with your eyes closed, and everything else drifts away as you stare at his name.

“There’s a joke about the morbidity of this somewhere, I just know it."

Two large hands land on your waist, turning you around and pulling you into a kiss that takes your breath away. Breaking the kiss, you wonder what life would be like if Jason had never disappeared.

“Sorry,” you murmur. Kissing Jason is new and still catches you off guard, like you’re dreaming.

“Don’t apologize,” Jason whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone. “Of all the places to hang out,” he adds with a bright smile.

“Why didn’t Bruce get it taken down?”

Jason shrugs. “The reminder? The idea that something else could happen. I really don’t know,” Jason half lies. He isn’t ready to tell you that he really did die and is happy to let you think it was just a ransom kidnapping gone wrong.

“What?” you ask, pressing your palms against his chest. “You disappeared into that pretty head again.”

“I’m just glad we’re finally more than friends,” Jason says, pressing his lips to yours.

“Me too,” you reply against his lips.

You’ve been friends much longer than lovers, so spending time together is not new, but being able to touch, kiss, and tell him what you feel is. While you think about how much you like the newness, Jason struggles to decide when or if to expose who he is.

He trusts you; he does, but he doesn’t want to scare you away or put a target on your back. Nightmares about you finding out and leaving while he’s gone plagued him for months after returning to Gotham and seeing you again. 

“Do you have to go back to the manor yet?”

Jason shakes his head, looping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for a few more hours.”

“Oh no.”

Jason pulls you against his side, smiling as he kisses the top of your head.

Not yet, he decides. Not never, just not yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason feels Dick’s eyes on the side of his mask, a distorted sigh leaking out.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell her,” Dick – Nightwing – accuses.

“We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Wing.”

“They can wait. Right, criminals?” Dick asks over his shoulder.

“Sure,” one of them answers, a batarang through his jacket keeping him stuck to an alley wall. “Take your time.”

Dick raises his hands to ask, “Why?”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” Jason sighs.

“Changed my mind. Look, I obviously understand the purpose of secret identities, but you love her, and she deserves to know.”

“You haven’t told your girl?” the thief asks. “Why not?”

“Shut up,” Jason growls through the hood.

“What are you really scared of?” Dick whispers before turning away.

Jason and Dick leave the criminal in the alley when police sirens approach, finding a rooftop to wait on. Gotham is never quiet for long, and breaks on patrol are few and far between.

“I’m going to tell her,” Dick announces. “Not about you. About me. Maybe that will convince you.”

“Don’t.”

“Jaybird.”

“Don’t ‘Jaybird’ me, Dick,” Jason argues, standing and pacing. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with here. You tell Babs you’re Nightwing and she says, ‘Oh, wow, thanks for keeping us safe.’ I tell the woman that I love that I’m Red Hood and her first thought is the duffel bag fiasco, or the suicide spike at Arkham, nothing about me being a savior.”

“Everyone in Gotham knows that you’re not like that anymore. Besides, knowing that you did something bad isn’t a make-or-break situation.”

“Begging for forgiveness won’t do much if she leaves while I’m on patrol.”

Dick tilts his head toward Jason. “You’ve thought about this.”

Jason flexes his arms as he links his hands behind his neck. “Every time I consider doing it, I have a nightmare about her leaving.”

“You’re letting a nightmare control you, Jay.”

“Just- give me a little time, Dick. I can protect her from everything without telling her. Me included.”

“What if she doesn’t want to be protected from you? What if she wants you as you are?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason can’t remember the last time he was this tired after patrol. Damian had too much sugar or something and drug Jason all over Gotham. He needs to see you, and as Red Hood makes his way through the streets of Gotham, Jason keeps his mind on you, prepared to ditch the helmet and hold you until he can’t anymore.

Meanwhile, you’re walking home from work. Jason likes to be on the phone with you while you walk alone, but it’s late, and he’s probably at a family dinner. Looking down at your phone, you have a short message from him, but before you read it, you walk into what feels like a brick wall.

Gloved hands grip your biceps to keep you upright, and when you look up, you see the infamous Red Hood looming over you. Your mind wavers between fight and flight as you try not to scream, leaning away with wide eyes. You swallow harshly, and the eye slits of the mask fix themselves on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You flinch back at the sound of his voice, and his hands immediately fall away from you. Falling back, you catch yourself on your hands and scoot backward, terrified of what he’ll do to you. Red Hood has been working with the bats and birds, but the memory of what he was like before still looms over Gotham like the rain clouds that never dissipate.

He steps back, moving his hand toward his belt, and you gasp, freezing where you are.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, standing slowly. “Please don’t hurt me.”

It’s Red Hood’s turn to freeze, and unknown to you, Jason is falling apart under the mask. The pure terror in your eyes is the exact thing he’s been trying to keep you from.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he rushes to say, leaving his hands where you can see them. “I’m not going to touch you.”

You nod slowly, moving backward as you clearly don’t believe him. Once you reach the corner, you turn and run. If he wanted to follow you, he could do so with no problem, but you don’t spare a glance over your shoulder as you run as fast as you can toward your home.

Jason’s shoulders drop as he watches you run, beating himself up for everything: for not telling you, for scaring you, and for putting you in this position. He can’t tell you now; he missed his chance, and there’s no way you’ll want him. His nightmare is coming to life around him, and he can’t wake up.

Your phone is lying on the ground, and Jason stoops to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket. Maybe you’ll still want to see Jason tonight. If someone like him can be so lucky.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your keys slip from your fingers several times as you struggle to unlock your door. Panting and blinking quickly to keep your tears from falling, you finally open the door, and once you're inside, slam it behind you and lock all three deadbolts.

Leaning against the door, you slide down it and hug yourself, wishing you had picked up your phone. You want to call Jason; you need him, but hopefully, he’ll come over when he can.

Something flies past your window, and you leap to your feet, walking through every room to ensure all the windows are locked. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason takes his time following you. He can move quickly, especially for a guy his size, but after seeing how you looked at Red Hood, at him, he’s more than happy to go a little slower. Taking the long way, he drops his stuff off at his place, keeping your phone in his pocket.

As he walks, he wonders what to say or do to convince you to stay. Sure, you were terrified of Red Hood, not Jason Todd, but the two are not mutually exclusive and never will be. Part of him wants to take Dick’s advice and tell you, but the idea of it not working (or ending like he thinks he will) makes the decision impossible.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on your door, and when there’s no answer or footsteps inside, he hits the door again, saying your name.

“It’s me,” he adds.

Your footsteps sound before three deadbolts click. Opening the door, you move into the hallway to hug Jason tightly. He returns the hug, pulling you up against him as he carries you inside and closes the door behind him. Flipping all the deadbolts, he knows he can keep you safer than they ever could, but that requires trust. Trust from you and from him.

As you cling to him, his heart is torn between leaving you before he scares you again or comforting you all night. When you adjust your grip on him, pressing your cheek against his pec just above your heart, Jason decides to stay. 

If she’s this afraid of Red Hood, what will she do when she finds out who he is? Jason wonders.

Pushing the thoughts away, Jason holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back while the other rests against your hip. The weight of his arms against you is comforting, and you focus on his heartbeat and the sound of his voice.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Take a few deep breaths.”

You do as he says, attempting to match your breaths to his. It takes several minutes, but your heart rate slows as your breath evens out.

“Thank you,” you say, moving your chin against his chest to look up at him.

He smiles, though his lips stay together, and it’s not as big as usual, running a hand over your hair.

“Can I- can I talk to you about what happened?” you ask, leaning into his touch.

He nods, and something akin to dread flashes through his eyes. You write it off as nervousness that you were hurt or threatened, which wouldn’t be unbelievable in Gotham.

“I was walking home, I got off late but didn’t want to call you and bother you.”

Jason wonders how different things would be if you had called, but rather than interrupting, he nods to acknowledge he’s listening.

“Then I turned into an alley, and I bumped into Red Hood. And, I mean, I know he’s not the same as when he first arrived in Gotham.”

Hope blooms in Jason’s chest at your words.

“He works with Batman, and Nightwing, and the rest of them, and they’re good. I’ve heard from my coworkers who live in the Hill that he’s making a difference, for good, but,” you trail off, looking away from Jason as you shatter his hope that you see a different side of Red Hood. 

“But what?” he asks quietly.

You shrug, and Jason takes the opportunity to move. He pulls you with him as he sits up, tugging you into his lap as you look up at him. His arms wrap around your waist as his fingers brush up and down against your side.

“I think the reason he scared me so much is that there’s no way to tell what he’s thinking. The rest of them, you can see part of their face, but he hides everything. And he’s just so big, I looked up and felt so small that I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he could.”

He would never hurt you, Jason thinks.

“I guess I didn’t like being in that position where I knew he could do anything but had no way of knowing if he would.”

Jason leans back toward the back of the couch. The fear that you’re expressing is based on reasons that apply to him, the man under the mask.

“You got scared because he’s so big? And unreadable?” Jason clarifies, applying the adjectives to himself.

Your eyes are fixed on him, dropping to his shoulders and waist quickly, looking at his build (and noticing the shape of a phone in his pocket, aware that he set his to the side to hold you) before you hum. “Kinda like you,” you muse quietly.

Jason’s brows furrow, and you move your arms, causing Jason to drop one arm to his side.

You watch his movement, then look into his eyes. You lean toward him and smile, cocking your head as you ask, “But you can protect me. Right, red?”

[allysunny]

(You're) My Antidote Pt. 3 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᵖᶦⁿᵏᶦᵉᵐᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: Your pregnancy is coming to an end, and Miguel is getting desperate. You're getting sicker and sicker, and your baby seems to be causing more harm than good, as his antidotes. He's running out of time. But Miguel is willing to do anything to ensure your well-being, as well as the well-being of his child.

Words: 8.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, hospitals, very bad science, like, really, really bad science, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, mentions of a difficult labour, births, a very cheesy and corny ending, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm here to finally deliver Part 3 of (You're) My Antidote! This one is a little longer than the previous parts, but I guess you can figure out why. Also, I took very big artistic liberties with all of the science talk in this part. Please let me inform everyone that I DO NOW KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT SCIENCE! Everything in here except for the childbirth part is COMPLETELY MADE UP!

So if there are any science majors or doctors out there reading this, please do not burn me at the stake. I really did try my best.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this series! I had a blast :)

“Her vitals are stable, but we don’t know how much longer they’ll stay that way.” Spider-Doc said, looking at the file on his tablet. “She’s lost a lot of blood and it’s likely she’ll feel weak and sick for a while. We might have to keep her here for a few days before she can return home.”

If she returns home at all.

Miguel was staring at you. Lovely, beautiful, sickly you, lying on a hospital bed. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, and winced when his eyes caught the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of your face.

After you’d started bleeding on your bed, he’d taken you to the Spider Society Medical Centre, worried sick. He’d refused to leave the room as every medically inclined Spider-Person ran exams on you. He wasn’t allowed inside your room (He might be the leader of Spider Society, but doctors were doctors, and it didn’t matter how worried he was – he wanted them to do the best they could with no distractions) and paced back and forth in front of the door, until eventually allowed back inside.

 “And the baby?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes of you.

“Miraculously, the baby survived. We’re not sure what caused the bleeding, but one of our possible theories is that the baby is destroying her uterus from inside. All the thrashing around must’ve caused the bleeding. The baby is fine, and so is she, but we don’t know how long for.” Spider-Doc looked through his files, scribbling down things with a pen. “We will be able to run further exams, but only after she wakes up. Most of them require her consent.”

Miguel nodded and sat down next to your bed, holding your hand gently, afraid to break you. The oxygen mask covering your face was far too daunting, a harsh reminder of the state you were in, and how much you were suffering.

“What… What’s the probability of them both making it out alive?” he asked, squeezing your hand.

Spider-Doc sighed.

“We don’t know that yet, but… Miguel, it’s likely it won’t happen. The baby, it’s – it’s getting far too strong. It’s not a regular child because he has your genes. And all of the antidote you’ve been giving your wife, well, it soothes him for a while, but as I’m sure you’ve been told before, the baby is growing immune to it, and it’s only hurting your wife more and more.” He paused, glancing at you. “If we don’t find a way to cure it permanently, you might have to choose between one or the other.”

Miguel’s heart broke at the words.

How was he supposed to choose between the love of his life, and his child? His child, that he’d grown to love in this short period of time. The child he hadn’t gotten the chance to know yet, but still harboured a love as deep as the one he had for you.

But on the other hand, this was the child that was killing you.

He’d always wanted a family. You’d always wanted a family. He remembered the day you told him you were pregnant. How happy the two of you were, celebrating and fantasizing about the future, about your little family.

He’d get to come home to his loving wife and kid at the end of a tiring day, both reminding him of why he did what he did, why he risked his life over and over again for the sake of the multiverse. He’d cradle his baby on his arms, marvelling over how such a small, pure creature could’ve come from imperfect, impure him.

He’d watch you as you sang and rocked your baby to sleep, heart melting at the sight of you being a mother – a look he’d wanted on you ever since you told him you’d like a little family of your own.

And now, it was all going down the drain.

The baby was hurting you.

Miguel was hurting you too, with all those syringes and needles he made sure to insert into you. “It’s for your own good”, he’d say, eyes brimming with tears as you begged him not to. And yet, he insisted on sedating you and giving you the antidote, all to make sure you could keep on living.

Your reasoning started out as “Do it. I don’t mind the pain if our baby is fine” and had quickly changed to “You’re hurting him with your antidote Miguel, please stop.” What was Miguel supposed to do when your reasoning basically contradicted itself? You wanted the best for your child, and so did he. But the very thing that was curing it, was also causing it more harm.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miguel?” Spider-Doc asked, tugging the files back under his arm.

“No, thank you Doctor. That’ll be all.”

The doctor nodded and promptly left, allowing Miguel some alone time with his wife.

Usually, he’d make sure no one was there to see him as vulnerable as this. But today, Miguel did not care. The love of his life was dying, and because of the child he’d helped make.

It’s all my fault. I’m a freak. I’m a monster. If it weren’t for me, she’d have a normal pregnancy. She’d have a normal child, a normal family. If it weren’t for me being the monster I am, she wouldn’t be in pain. It’s all my fault. I’m a selfish bastard who should’ve never fallen for her in the first place. I knew I couldn’t give her a normal life like everyone else, so why did I still pursue her? If I truly did love her, I’d have left her alone and let her lead a normal life.

This was the internal monologue going inside Miguel’s head. He allowed himself to cry, big tears rolling down his cheek and falling on the floor. Was it selfish of him? Back when you started dating, you told him you didn’t care about who he was. Spider-Man, big Alchemax genius, saviour of the multiverse. You didn’t care for any of those titles. All you wanted was your Miguel, your Miggy. You told him you’d love him forever, no matter what.

You’d love him in his good days, you’d love him through his bad days. You’d kiss his scars and run your fingers through his head and calm him down. You’d celebrate his victories and comfort him during his losses. You’d be there, no matter what.

“I don’t care what you are, Miggy. I love you. Isn’t that enough?” Those were the words you’d always say to him whenever he tried to reason with you, telling you he was a dangerous man, that he could not provide you with the life you deserved. And you never missed a beat, replying “The life I deserve is with you. The life I want is with you.”

And had he been selfish for wanting that? Had he been selfish for wanting a life with you as well? Had he been selfish for fighting for what he wanted for once in his life, instead of giving it up?

A small, gentle hand tugged at his brown curls, and he looked up to find you staring at him through almost closed eyes. Your chest still rose and fell with your breathing, which seemed more stable now. Miguel couldn’t see the entirety of your face, but he found your eyes and the dam broke.

He sobbed into his hands, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry… This is all my fault… It’s my fault that I’m such a monster and have cursed our child with my genes…” Having heard this, you pulled on his hair, this time harsher. He looked up and saw your eyebrows furrowed in a frown. You shook your head gently and placed a finger to his lips, shutting him up. Your other hand found your stomach and rubbed circles there.

“If it weren’t for me…” Another harsh tug. He did not need to see the rest of your face to know you’d be scolding him right now if you could. You were never one to throw pity parties – you loved him, you said it often, and you were sure of your decisions.

“I love you,” he said, standing up to press a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and instinctively leaned into his touch. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll be here if you need me.” Saying this, he sat back down on the chair, and quietly watched you.

Later that day, some of your closest friends of the Spider Society would stop to check up on you and wish you well. Peter B. brought Mayday and tried to cheer you up by allowing her to perform a series of stunts (if he could call “swinging around the hospital room with her web-shooter” stunts) and telling you jokes.

Jessica had dropped by your apartment and brought her some spare clothes, as well as some of the things she knew you couldn’t live without – your phone, the books you were currently interested in, and other basic items like a hairbrush and a toothbrush. Miguel hated what that implied – that you’d be in here for a while, long enough for you to need these things, but he was willing to do whatever was best to keep you safe.

Miles and Gwen stopped by too, chatting with you calmly and telling you about whatever shenanigans they had been up to in their respective dimensions. It always cheered you up to listen to those two talk. You loved how vibrant and passionate they were about their job as Spider-People, and they always made you insanely proud.

After a few hours, Miguel ushered everyone away, arguing that you needed peace and quiet. They all promised to come back later, and the two of you were left alone once again.

The Spider-Doctors had allowed you to remove your oxygen mask if you felt up for it, so you placed it near your body and tried to distract Miguel out of his worries.

“I’ve been thinking of a few baby names,” you said, caressing your stomach, an action that had become second nature to you.

“¿En serio?” he mumbled. Miguel had pushed his chair as close to your bed as possible, to make sure he could cater to you at all times and help you if you needed. He was currently laying his head next to your torso, and he was facing you. A rather uncomfortable position, but as long as he got to be next to you, that was all right.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking, if it’s a boy, we can call him Henry.”

Miguel snorted.

“What’s wrong with Henry?” you asked him, pouting.

“We’re not naming our child Henry.” Miguel deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“I think it’s a lovely name.”

“Yes, maybe. But not for our child.”

You huffed, flicking his forehead softly.

“Ouch – hey! What was that for?” He asked, lifting his head ever so slightly.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” You looked away, visibly upset.

“No – no, look at me.” When you refused to do it, Miguel lifted his hand to turn your head towards his, so he could look you in the eye. “Mi vida, I’m sorry. I am taking this seriously. I just personally don’t really like Henry. What are some of your other ideas?”

You huffed again and he had to try and hide his smile. You looked rather adorable like this, even if he would never tell you.

“I like Lucas.”

“Hm.”

“You hate it.”

“I don’t – “

“You do, Miggy, I know it! I can see it in your face – that’s the same expression you had when you tried my mom’s empanadas.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Cariño, I love your mother, but those empanadas were terrible.” Miguel calmly replied.

“You’re making that same face now.”

“And how can you be so sure it’s a boy?”

“I told you, I can feel it. Call it maternal instinct.” You smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile with you.

“What do you think about Gabriel?”

Now it was your turn to furrow your brows.

“Gabriel? As in – “

“Yeah.” He looked at your stomach and hesitantly placed a hand on top of it. He wanted so badly to communicate with the baby growing inside of you, apologise to him for making him the way he was, and beg him to please stop hurting you. “What do you think?”

You hummed, and grinned.

“I love it.”

Miguel’s head snapped upwards, and his eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like it. Gabriel. I think it’s lovely.”

Miguel leaned upwards and placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips, savouring the sweetness of your words, your body, your soul.

“Gabriel it is then.”

You two remained in silence for a while, before you decided to speak up once again.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Your voice was low, and Miguel could sense the sheer adoration and utter love you had for your unborn child. “I can’t wait to hold him, and to see you hold him. I’ve always wanted a family with you.”

Miguel did not speak.

“It’ll be fine, Miggy. Everything will be fine.” It was odd. Usually, it was him who had to comfort you. After all, you were the one lying on a hospital bed. “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

He looked up and offered you a small smile, taking your hand and giving it a kiss.

“I do. I love you too. You, and our baby. I would do anything for the both of you. You know that, don’t you?”

You smiled. A sad smile, that said everything you couldn’t find the words to.

“I do, Miggy.”

You puckered your lips, silently begging him for a kiss, which he obliged you with. He tilted your head upwards and kissed you slowly, tongue lazily tracing your bottom lip before you parted your mouth to welcome him. Although weak, your hands still found strength to clutch his shirt and pull him tighter against you.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you,” you whispered against his lips.

Miguel nodded and slowly untangled himself from your grasp.

“You should rest, my love.”

After you’d fallen asleep, Miguel exited the hospital room and made his way to his laboratory.

Lyla’s gleaming form appeared before him, taking her heart-shaped glasses so she could see him better.

“Miguel? Is that you?” she asked, disappearing from her spot, and appearing once again right in front of his face. “I heard what happened. I’m really sorry. Shouldn’t you be with her right now?”

“We need to work on a cure.” Miguel ignored her as he walked towards his workstation, glaring at the papers scattered around. Formulas, calculations, drawings, and sheets filled with words. He had to be getting closer to the cure, right? All those sleepless, restless nights couldn’t have been for nothing. Miguel was one of the smartest men in his universe, clearly there must’ve been something he hadn’t tried yet.

“Miguel, we’ve talked about this. You need to go to her,” Lyla sighed. If she could get tired, she would, really. “Jessica and I are still working on the research. We’re trying our hardest, but you have to – “

“We’re running out of time, Lyla!” Miguel yelled, sending the papers flying all over the room. “She’s getting worse. That baby is killing her, Lyla. It’s killing her, and the antidotes I’m coming up with are just hurting her more… You were right…” He placed his hands on his desk, leaning his head on the top. “You were right, the baby is growing immune and making the antidote stronger will only hurt her further… I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Lyla sighed, her figure flickering in the darkness. She appeared once more next to Miguel, looking at the few papers that managed to stay intact. Her holographic fingers ran through a few lines of text, analysing them.

“All of these formulas… You’ve been increasing the power of the antidote… Making it stronger and stronger to sedate the baby as much as you can… You’ve been far too aggressive on your approach, Miguel.”

“What?” he asked, not even daring to look up.

“Yeah, I mean,” Lyla flickered over to other papers, scanning them and reading them a few times, before returning to Miguel’s side and booting up her results to his computer. “Look at this. You’ve been so focused on sedating the baby, you haven’t even tried to build [Y/N]’s defences up.”

Miguel furrowed his brows, glancing at Lyla in disbelief.

“I did that. With patch 3.4. I fortified them, see?” Using his fingers, he tapped away on his screens, zooming in on a few lines and notes, and then sliding the screen so he could see the matching blood results. “See? Look at the white blood cells.”

“Yes, but still, you’re focusing too much on the offensive side of things.” Lyla quickly sparkled before his eyes, and in a flash, she was inserting sketches and drawings on the picture that shone on the screen. She was crossing out words and numbers and letters and replacing them with her own. “Look, over here. You decided to strengthen the defences, but you also doubled down on the sedative effects. You make it strong for yourself because you’re a grown man. We’re talking about a baby here.”

“A baby that is killing my wife.”

“A baby, nevertheless. The baby’s genes are triggering a response in [Y/N]’s body. What if we reprogram her white blood cells, specifically the T cells and natural killers cells, to recognise and neutralise the foreign elements?” Lyla turned to him and removed her sunglasses.

“We’re not messing with my wife’s genetic code, Lyla. That is out of the question.” Miguel knew the price one had to pay for such a thing. And he wasn’t about to risk your well-being. Who knew what could happen should he try to do something as drastic?

“But what if we don’t have to? We can reinforce the white blood cells in the antidote. We can tweak the core essence of the antidote itself, with Essence Cells – tiny protectors we can unleash to recalibrate the energy balance between her. They’ll form a shield that actively repels the negative influence from the baby’s unique energy pattern.”

Miguel placed a hand on his chin, going over what Lyla had told him.

It was true, he’d been far too preoccupied with tackling the baby issue. But he also knew that strengthening your defences could cause the baby to get stronger and stronger as opposed to stagnate.

“Essence Cells? Can we really do that?”

Lyla shrugged.

“It’s a stretch, but we’re dealing with extraordinary circumstances. If we manipulate the energy signatures in her bloodstream, we might create a defensive barrier that counteracts the harm all of the baby has been doing.”

Miguel faced his papers once again.

“It’s a long shot Miguel, but at this point, what do you have to lose?”

“I can lose [Y/N] – “

“What’s fortifying her defences gonna make? Worst case scenario, her immune system grows.”

Miguel stared at the screen. He remained silent.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” Lyla voiced one last time.

It wouldn’t. If it worked, you’d be safe. The baby would be safe.

If it didn’t, he’d at least buy you more time.

And prolong your suffering, a little voice whispered in his head.

He shook that nasty thought away.

“Let’s do it.”

You’d been doing fine.

You’d been healthy, colour had returned to your cheeks, and you seemed to be healing just fine. The baby hadn’t caused much trouble, sometimes kicking you harder than a normal baby should, but, overall, behaving.

The new antidote mix seemed to be working.

Miguel was currently sitting by your side, reading your favourite book out loud. You claimed you were “far too tired” to pick it up, but Miguel knew you simply liked the cadence of his voice. No matter. He’d read to you as many times as you wanted if it meant you’d be fine.

“You sound so nice,” you mumbled, eyes slowly closing. You were close to falling asleep, although it wasn’t even near 3PM. Sure, you were healing, but having a baby that shared 50% of his genes with your vampire-ninja-spiderman husband (as Miles so charmingly put it) was tiresome, and you found yourself exhausted even before lunch time on most days.

“I’m sure the baby likes to hear you too,” you yawned. Miguel smiled at the sight. Although not the ideal location, this is all Miguel has ever wanted for you. A quiet, peaceful, healthy pregnancy with him catering to your every need, and you just sitting pretty as not to strain yourself much.

“I can’t wait to hear him,” rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you sit up – or rather, try to. Miguel is next to you in milliseconds, propping you up with pillows and making sure you were comfortable.

“This alright?” he asked, fluffing up a pillow behind you.

“Perfect,” you smiled and kissed his jaw affectionately. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never good,” he chided with a fake worried expression.

“Ha ha, very funny. But I wanna get out of here.”

Miguel took a sharp breath.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Miggy, but I need to get out. Just for a while. I can walk, you know? I’m tired of being in this damn hospital bed for so long. I promise it’ll be fine; you can even come with me! Please? Exercising is good for the baby.”

“[Y/N]…” Miguel sighed, reaching out to hold your face.

You were quicker though and held his hands with your own.

“Please, Miguel. You can accompany me or chaperone me, or whatever you want to call it. But I’ve been getting better, and all I want is to move around a bit. I’ll be fine. And after we go for a walk, I’ll return to bed, I promise.”

Miguel looked into your pleading eyes and saw how badly you needed this. You’d been lying in a hospital bed for a few weeks now, after lying in your own bed at home for a few months. It wasn’t the greatest lifestyle, and how could he deny you something so simple? Two voices in his head fought against each other, one of them telling him that it was a terrible idea. The other one, however, assured him that you needed to get out and get some fresh air, because it’d be good for both you and your baby.

“Alright my love. Let’s go.”

You’d never been happier as you walked (waddled, more like) around the Spider Society with Miguel by your side. Ever the protective husband, he held your hand and kept you close, offering you any help around every 5 minutes.

Spider-People approached, gushed over your big baby bump, asked standard questions such as if you knew the gender, if you’d been thinking about names, and wishing you all the best in your pregnancy. Those who knew about your condition asked if the antidote had been working and offered to keep you company at the Medical Centre, which you gladly accepted.

Once you got to the cafeteria area, Miguel had to nearly physically restrain you, seeing as you almost ran to the empanada stall, claiming you were super hungry, and nothing except those godly cafeteria empanadas could soothe your craving.

“We’ll get you one, but you need to sit down,” Miguel said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Look at that line! Miggy, they’ll be out of empanadas before we get there! We need to hurry!” You huffed.

Miguel chuckled and kissed your forehead, before leading you to a nearby table.

“Sit here and I’ll bring you the empanada. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly and waited for your husband to return.

After a while, Miguel came back, holding a few boxes – he wasn’t going to risk it. He knew you, and if you said you craved one empanada, what you actually meant was I’m craving a whole bunch of them. He noticed the small crowd that had gathered around you and had half a mind to send them all away, before he noticed who they were.

“I’m so glad you’re doing better, [Y/N].” Gwen Stacy said.

“Yeah – you got us all worried, you know?” Miles replied.

You smiled, having grown very fond of the kids. In a way, you saw them as your own children.

“Thank you. I’m getting better now – all thanks to Miguel. He’s a genius. Oh! Speak of the devil!” You reached out your hands and Miguel promptly handed you one of the empanada bags. You squealed in delight and opened the bag, wasting no time in sinking your teeth into it.

“Hmm – this is so good,” you groaned, mouth full (earning a side glance from Miguel). You finished chewing your bite and cleaned your mouth, and then turned to him. “Thank you, honey. Gosh, I really missed these.”

Gwen and Miles chuckled as they watched you chew on your empanada contentedly, and Miguel silently thanked whoever was watching over him for this moment. He felt normal for once. Just a husband taking care of his wife’s cravings and watching as she appeared to glow.

Things had been bad for a while, but thankfully, they were getting better. You were getting better.

“Miguel! Miguel, look!” Gwen shouted, breaking him out of his trance and pointing at you. He turned his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and that’s when he saw you.

The empanada had been forgotten and dropped on the floor, and you were panting, out of breath. One of your hands was placed on your stomach, the other was holding onto the bench for support.

“[Y/N]!” Miguel was immediately by your side, looking at you and accessing what was happening.

“Shit – shit, it hurts, Miggy. It hurts so much!” Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and a pained expression overtook your face. Before he could ask you what specifically hurt, you were letting out a horrifying scream and falling on the floor. Miguel’s reflexes were quicker and you instead fell on his lap, where he cradled you tightly against him.

You screamed and shrieked, Spider-People all around you stopping to glance at what was happening. Pavitr kneeled next to you in panic, holding your hand and encouraging you to squeeze it tightly, which you did (let it be known that he took it like a champ, focusing on you rather than on the pain you caused him). You turned to Miggy and sobbed, trying to explain what you felt, the way he always told you to do whenever you hurt.

Unfortunately, the pain was far too much to endure, and every two words from you were interrupted by ear-piercing wails.

Miguel didn’t want to leave you. Not at all. He wasn’t going to leave you alone while you suffered and cried in his arms. But he needed to get to his lab as soon as possible, and he couldn’t do that with you. He couldn’t possibly risk hurting you.

In a split second, he made a decision he never thought he’d ever make in his life.

“Peter, Hobie, Pavitr, take [Y/N] back to the Medical Centre.”

“Miguel, no – “ you sobbed, clutching onto his suit.

“Mi vida, I need to go to my lab and reach your files – “

“No – “ You flashed a thousand colours in front of him. Chunky blocks of colour replaced your figure and rearranged it repeatedly. You felt lightweight in his arms, and his heart sunk at the realisation. He’d felt this weight before, held it as its colours sparked dimmer and dimmer.

You were glitching. Again.

Panic overtook him, clouding his judgement.

Shock. What was he going to do? Why were you glitching? He’d stopped giving you that patch of antidote he’d gotten from another universe. Hell, he’d promised never to return there after you’d glitched the first time.

So, what in the world was causing this?

“Miguel?”

Why were you suffering?

“Miguel?”

Hadn’t you suffered enough? Was this the world’s cruel way of punishing him?

“Miguel!”

It was Peter B.’s voice that brought him back to reality.

“We need to get her to the Medical Centre. You go to your lab and find a cure. Now.”

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He held you tightly one more time, kissed your forehead when your frame stopped sparkling, and all but ran to his lab.

Once he got there, Lyla flickered in front of him, pixelated eyes widening in fear.

“Miguel!”

He looked up and saw as she returned to his keyboard and pointed at the screen.

“The Essence Cells are causing a temporal instability in [Y/N]’s physiology.” She exclaimed, typing away.

Miguel huffed; face contorted in anger. “I thought you said this was safe, you said the worst that could happen – “

“I had no idea this would happen! Miguel, it wasn’t supposed to! But it’s too late for that, we need to work on a cure.” Lyla appeared in front of the screen and urgently pointed at it. “[Y/N]’s sense of time is becoming warped. She might be experiencing moments from different timelines, different realities. It’s as if the Essence Cells are opening windows to parallel words within her. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. [Y/N] hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes. Ever. Not before, not during her pregnancy. This is completely unexpected.”

Lyla’s words sunk in.

She hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes.

“Mierda,” he whispered, nearly collapsing on her knees.

Lyla knew what that expression meant. She knew what that voice meant, and she did not like it one bit.

“Miguel…?” she asked tentatively. “What have you done…?”

He shook his head and glanced at his hands. Was it his fault then? Was this all his fault? Perhaps if he hadn’t given you that foreign antidote, you’d be fine now. The Essence Cells would do their job, and you wouldn’t be suffering. It’s all his fault.

“Miguel, tell me what you’ve done, now. The quicker we know what the problem is, the better we can deal with it!”

“I… I travelled to another dimension…” he mumbled; voice numb. “It was a few months ago, I… I was desperate and reached out to another me, a better me… He gave me this antidote, said it wouldn’t fail… Lyla, I was desperate – I didn’t want to lose [Y/N]! I didn’t know what else to do!” When Miguel finally looked up, Lyla could see he was crying.

His next words carried all the heartbreak he felt, and even with no feelings, Lyla felt something resembling a heart breaking inside of her.

“I didn’t want to lose her, Lyla. I was desperate. It’s all my fault now, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was, but Lyla was not about to tell that to her clearly very disturbed boss. Instead, she did what she did best.

She got to work.

“You’re an idiot, Miguel O’Hara,” she sighed in exasperation before taking a deep breath. “But you already know that. Now, stand up and stop moping around. Your wife and child need your help.”

Miguel looked up at her, like a lost puppy being offered a home.

“Do you want to save your wife or not? Get up and let’s work!”

Something switched inside of Miguel. Maybe it was the way Lyla did not hold him accountable, maybe it was the determination in her voice, but one thing was for sure: he was going to save you, no matter what.

“Alright.” He stood up, making his way to his work bench in two strides. “What do we need to do?”

“We need to recalibrate the Essence Cells – tweak their energy signatures. If we can stabilize Mary’s temporal fluctuations, maybe we can minimize these glimpses into alternate realities.”

“More Essence Cells aren’t the solution – they’re making everything worse. The Essence Cells must still be reacting to whatever remnants of the other antidote still remain in her body. She hasn’t glitched in a while, so maybe they’re dying out, but I can’t risk it. We can’t.” Miguel mumbled, scribbling over more papers, and comparing them.

“Okay, what about changing our approach?”

“We’ve done that before, Lyla, and it didn’t work, and [Y/N] is in pain, and – “

“Stop being so stubborn and listen to me!” Lyla yelled. “Remember to keep your heart out of this – you’re a scientist, remember? Be logical. Instead of amplifying, we need to anchor. Maybe the Essence Cells are intensifying the glimpses because they’re acting like amplifiers. We introduced them to strengthen her defences, remember? They’re amplifying her immune system. Maybe we need something more stable.”

Miguel nodded. She was right. He needed to remain clear-headed – panicking would not do. Logic and reason would help him. “You might be right – but what could possibly anchor these fluctuations without harming her? Lyla, we’ve tried about everything.”

Lyla chewed on her little pixelated pencil.

She flickered all around the lab, appearing and disappearing in front of papers. She scanned some and left others alone. She organised all the information that proved to be relative, before pasting it to Miguel’s computer.

“Of course!” She cried out. “How did I not thing of this before?”

“What? What is it?” ´

“Miguel, your blood!” Lyla appeared in front of him, nodding so vigorously, her heart-shaped glasses fell off. “It carries your genes, doesn’t it? If we use a controlled amount of your blood, we might be able to create an antidote that stabilizes the Essence Cells, anchoring [Y/N]’s experience to a single reality!”

Miguel frowned. He hadn’t thought about using his blood. In his head, it meant he’d be injecting some more of the same genes that were hurting you in your body.

“I don’t understand. How could my blood possibly work?”

“Your blood contains the original genetic code we’re trying to counteract. By introducing it in a carefully measured way, we can neutralize the amplifying effect of the Essence Cells – “

“And stabilize [Y/N]’s physiology.”

“Exactly! And that’s not the only thing – with your blood, we can create an antidote that not only stabilises her condition, but also creates a protective barrier around the baby!”

“My genes were what got us in this whole mess in the first place,” Miguel mumbled. “But perhaps by using it, we can design the antidote to shield the baby from the harmful aspects of her glitching, while still allowing the natural and healthy development of their unique traits. My unique traits. Lyla, you’re a genius!” Miguel shouted, swinging towards another one of his work benches, this one filled with vials and needles.

“I know, I know. But say it one more time, just to make sure you mean it!”

A few members of the Spider Society gushed and worried about you, refusing to leave your side. Pavitr still held your hand, even though his was turning purple and getting numb. Gwen slowly petted your head, keeping you grounded by telling you stories and anecdotes about her day. Hobie was trying his best too – he had a soft spot for you and tried to make you laugh every few minutes, just to make sure you were okay.

The glitching had stopped for a while, but not completely. You thought of them as contractions that took longer and longer to come as time went by. Just where the hell was your sweet Miguel?

Almost as if answering your prayers, he burst in the room, holding a needle in his hand. Everyone immediately got out of his way, and he kneeled next to you. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and scanned your face for any further injuries, which you did not seem to have. Good. If all went according to plan, you wouldn’t feel any pain any longer.

“I’m here, mi vida, I’m here.” He whispered softly, guiding your arm towards his chest.

“Miggy, it hurts,” you whispered back, dry tears staining your lovely cheeks. He kissed each, before settling the needle on top of your skin. “I don’t want it to hurt again, please don’t….”

“I know, my love, I know. But I have to do this.” Miguel placed his forehead against yours. “It’ll stop. I promise, it’ll stop. You’ve been so brave up until now, haven’t you? You’ve been so brave for our child. It’ll be so lucky to call you mother.”

“Gabriel.” You nodded, trying not to tear up again.

“Yeah, Gabriel. He’ll be so lucky to call you his mother.” Miguel wiped the sweat out of your brow, slowly pushing the needle inside of you. You winced in pain and shrieked, back arching off the bed as the baby inside you stirred and stirred. Miguel ignored your cries and pushed through. You needed this, you needed this antidote, because this one would work. After so many failed attempts, this was the antidote patch that would finally work.

Miguel wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if it did not.

He prayed to whoever deity was up there, and watched as you slowly regained your breath and laid down on the hospital bed once more. Your posture was relaxed, calm. It was as if a big weight was lifted off your body.

“My love?” Miguel asked, brushing some strands off hair from your face. “How are you feeling?”

He was expecting any kind of reaction. Tears, screaming, silence.

Nothing prepared him for what happened next.

You started to laugh.

To laugh.

To truly laugh, after so long.

You giggled and giggled, hands reaching around your belly.

“I’m – I’m amazing, Miggy!” You laughed and looked at him, with tears in your eyes. But this time, they were tears of happiness. “I hadn’t felt this great since before I was pregnant!” You laughed again and nuzzled his nose with your own. You ignored everyone else in the room and smiled as your husband took your face in his hands and kissed your breath away. You responded with just as much fervour, stopping mid-kiss to chuckle. “I feel amazing, Miguel. Thank you. Thank you so much. You did it. I can feel it my love, you did it.”

Miguel let a few tears of relief roll down his cheeks. You kissed them away and invited him to place his hands on top of your belly.

“Can you feel it?”

Miguel raised an eyebrow.

“Not much. Are they supposed to be kicking?”

“No,” you smiled, shaking your head, “Not at all. He’s calmed down. All thanks to you.”

Miguel kneeled once again and smiled.

You were doing fine. You were well, and so was your baby.

Later, Spider-Doc would come to bring the results of your new analysis. The baby, even though still carried Miguel’s genes, now did so with stability. He was healthy and you were no longer glitching.

All was well.

Until you were dragged to the same hospital room a few weeks later.

Miguel doesn’t remember much.

It was honestly all very fuzzy.

All he does remember though, are a bunch of voices yelling at each other, and how he had refused to leave your side. Hell would freeze over before he even considered leaving you.

“[Y/N], we’re going to need you to push now, is that okay?” your delivery nurse (a Spider-Woman, since Miguel refused any other hospital to see you – after all, the Spider Society had the best doctors – and, well, best everythings.)

You nodded, sweat clinging to your whole body. Miguel was next to you, and you were holding his hand as tight as you could.

“C’mon mi amor, you can do this. You can do this, alright?”

“Mhm!” You whimpered.

“Ready? One, two, three – “

You screamed, pushing as hard as you possibly could. Your eyes were watery, and you were shaking your head repeatedly, begging for this torment to stop.

“One more time [Y/N], come on!” The nurse repeated, looking at you and nodding encouragingly.

“Uh-oh,” Spider-Doc blurted behind Miguel, which made the latter tense up immediately. Uh-Oh? What did he mean, Uh-oh?

“The baby’s oxygen levels are low; we may need to intervene.”

“What?” Miguel’s head turned in the doctor’s direction. “What’s happening? Doctor, what’s happening to my wife?! Tell me!”

Spider-Doc looked at the other doctors in the room, and they all nodded at the same time.

“Get him out of the room.”

“What?!”

“Miggy!” You cried, not letting go of his hand.

“Miguel, you need to leave right now, we can’t have you in here. You’ll just cause more complications, add stress to the doctors, and consequently, your wife.”

“Doc, with all due respect, there’s no way I’m going to abandon her when she needs me the most.”

That was the last thing Miguel said before the door’s room was slammed in his face.

Well. So much for never abandoning you.

“Pendejo de mierda…”

Miguel sat down, leaning his back against the wall, and staring at the ceiling. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in that room with you, holding your hand and promising you all was going to be fine. He was your husband, for shock’s sake. He wanted to protect you, and he sure as hell couldn’t do it from outside the room.

He turned his head and tried to listen to whatever noises might be coming from inside. The soundproof qualities of the hospital seemed to be proving useful, since he couldn’t make out a thing – which only made him even more nervous. What if you were scared? Panicked? What if you needed him? What if the doctors needed anything? Any information on your blood type, on your pregnancy? He had all these answers.

And most importantly, he wanted to be there for you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door next to him opened ever so slightly.

Spider-Doc looked around, before settling his gaze on the ground next to him.

“Miguel?” he asked, to which the other man immediately stood up upon hearing.

“Yes? Is everything okay? How is my wife? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Spider-Doc smiled, opening the door more, and making way for Miguel could come through. “There were a few complications with the baby, namely, the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. That’s why the oxygen levels were low. Thankfully, we intervened at the right time. Your wife is fine, and so is your baby.”

Miguel sighed deeply in relief. The weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. That’s all he wanted to hear.

“And, according to her, your presence is needed. Urgently.”

He did not wait a second before walking inside the room, looking around to access his surroundings. No one seemed to be panicking, there were no nervous nurses and doctors rushing about. And then he heard it.

The piercing cry that seemed to come from one of the extremities of the room.

He approached, carefully, almost as if scared. After all, he wasn’t sure of what he was going to find. But whatever he might’ve thought about, did not hold a candle to the real thing.

In the hospital bed next to him, were you, lying down. Your forehead was glistening with sweat and your breath was still evening out. Your eyes were red and puffy, and so were your lips, from all the tears you’d spilled. When you looked up at him, they sparkled again, threatening to water once more.

“Hey,” you whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” Miguel replied, staying still.

“Come meet your son,” you said and looked at the baby neatly bundled near your chest. Miguel stepped forward, and if his breath hadn’t been stolen before, it definitely was now.

Close to you, you held a tiny, tiny little baby. There were a few strands of curly brown hair on top of his head, and his eyes were closed, tiny fists closed in the same fashion. He wailed them around, shattering cries erupting from his throat. How come such a small baby could make so much noise?

You shushed him softly, caressing his cheek and whispering soothing words. The baby seemed to listen, because he became quietly right after, big, sparkling eyes coming to stare at you curiously.

“They’re yours,” Miguel nearly choked out, stepping forward. “Our baby has your eyes.”

You smiled at your husband and nodded, cooing at your child.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?”

Miguel’s eyes widened.

“He?”

He could barely believe it.

“Told you. Maternal instinct is never wrong,” you chuckled, gushing at how your son held onto your finger as if it were his lifeline. “Would you like to hold him?”

Miguel nodded, and you carefully handed the baby to him. Big, bad, scary Miguel O’Hara was melting as he held his teeny tiny baby in his arms for the first time.

“Careful with the head,” you chided softly, to which he obliged.

Miguel stared at the baby in his arms. Well, more like the baby in his hands. He was so big; his hands almost covered his tiny body entirely. Miguel brought him close, smiling. The baby’s tiny lips were opened, eyes almost as if scrutinizing his father. Miguel chuckled at the sight – a few minutes old, and he was proving to be just like him already.

Miguel looked between the baby and you.

“Gabriel,” he whispered, searching for recognition in your eyes.

You granted him just that, accompanied by a smile.

“Gabriel. Little Gabriel O’Hara. He looks just like you, doesn’t he?”

Miguel nodded. He pulled up a chair and sat next to your bed, still holding little Gabriel. You reached out to him, tracing patterns on his arm.

“He’s perfect, [Y/N]. He’s just perfect. Thank you so much. I thought you’d given me the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for when we first got married,” he took his eyes off Gabriel to glance at you. “But like always, you’ve managed to surprise me. You gave me a son.”

Your smile widened and used your free hand to caress the baby’s small head.

“I’m sorry I gave you so much trouble,” he continued, voice dropping in agony. “If it weren’t for me… If it weren’t for these bloody genes…”

“Shh – don’t say another word.”

“[Y/N], please, you must know – “

“I won’t hear it.” You looked at him directly in his eyes. Those lovely, lovely brown eyes that you loved waking up to, and had sometimes even fantasized about your son inheriting. “I love you, Miguel. All of you. And I would do it all again if it meant I got to have you and our son right here, right now. You were right, it all worked out. Everything is fine. I have you, and I have our son. Our little Gabriel. And everything’s going to be alright.”

Miguel teared up himself.

Had this been his reward? What had he done to ever deserve you? Whatever it was, he was forever grateful.

He gazed down upon his son, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Gabriel’s dark eyelashes rested peacefully on top of his cheeks, and his pouty lips were slightly parted. He was perfect. Perfect in every way. He looked every bit like himself – but there was a soften on his features that reminded him of him.

“He seems so peaceful. You can’t fool me you little rascal, I know the troubles you caused your mother. You’ll pay for it someday,” Miguel joked, earning a giggle from you.

“He’s every bit like his father then. You’ve gotten me some troubles yourself, mister.”

“That I have.”

You two remained like this, in silence, for a few minutes, basking in this beautiful moment. It had been a rocky road, but you’d made it. Here you were, still standing, safe and sound. And here was your little Gabriel, resting peacefully on his arms.

Everything was right as it should be.

“I love you.” Miguel spoke. There were no words to describe what he was feeling now, but he thought this was a good way to start. “I love you so much. I love you and our son and our little family. Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.”

“I love you too Miguel. And our son.” You smiled. Shock, you looked marvellous. You always looked beautiful, and he was sure he’d never seen you look so beautiful first when you got married, then on your wedding night, and then the day you told him you were pregnant. But right here, right now – this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you.

“I’ll take care of you two forever, mi vida. Te lo prometo. I’ll be by your side until the end of time.” He reached out to wrap an arm around you, bringing you as close to his body as he could without hurting you.

Miguel had always been a truthful man.

But right now, as he held the entire world in both his arms, he swore he had never been so truthful as he pledged his undying love for you and Gabriel.

“You saved me, Miguel.” You mumbled, turning your face away from your son to look him in the eye. “You were my antidote after all.”

Miguel shook his head, kissing your forehead. You were terribly corny – a trait he found immensely charming in you.

“And you were mine.”

Everything was just fine.

Miguel had you, and his son.

He had you and Gabriel.

Everything was perfect.

A/N: And that's it! That's the ending! I hope that you guys liked it, and that it lived up to your expectations. I definitely missed writing for Miggy! My requests are open, so feel free to send in any ideas you might have for him! I'm excited to see what you guys have in mind!

Anyway, thank you all, and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

[billybob598]

Consequences of Our Actions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

2 fics in one day whaaaa?????? Double whammy bitches. Anyways here's part 2! Next fic will be pt2 to How Many People? Again, any feedback good or bad welcomed! Enjoy reading!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda short but who cares? (me))

“And it’s another goal for Y/N Y/L/N! Wow! She has been blossoming here at Bayern Munich.” Alexia tries to ignore the game playing on the TV in the team's common area.

“Could you shut that off, gracias,” she calls out to her teammates.

“Oh, come one Ale. Just because she’s not our teammate anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mapi says back as she watches Ingrid dance around happily at another one of your goals. You had transferred to Bayern a little over a month ago, breaking Alexia’s heart while simultaneously repairing yours. It didn’t help that you were performing better than you had ever at Barca. Everyone at Barca understood your decision, you were not getting the playing time you deserved and the few close to you knew that it was tearing you apart to be around Alexia every day. Moving was for the best, for everyone. Everyone except Alexia, it took her days, a lot of movies, and her mother’s home cooking before she recovered from walking into your bare apartment. While she had thought about contacting you numerous times, Ingrid and Keira had advised her not to, stating that it would only make things worse. The captain missed you. She missed how whenever she called you’d be there, she missed how happy you looked when you were playing football, she missed how you’d give her kisses on the forehead before she fell asleep, she missed everything about you. While you were out there, playing and looking better than ever, Alexia was kicking herself over how she let you slip through her fingers. Her teammates were starting to become concerned, they’d never seen Alexia so hung up on anyone, not even Jenni. 

Almost two months since moving to Germany and you were thriving. Everyone was so kind, the team welcomed you with open arms, the fans were already calling you an integral part of the team, everything was going perfectly. Yet, you still felt this emptiness in your heart. You knew what you were missing, but the whole point of moving was to get over her. You’d be damned if you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole again. So, you went on dates, sometimes they’d be mutual connections, sometimes they were from dating apps, and sometimes they were set up by your friends. None of them made you feel like Alexia did. None of them gave you that certain rush of adrenaline that she did. You were trying everything to get over her, but no matter what, at least once a day your thoughts would wander back to her. Reaching out to her was something you contemplated regularly however, the few friends you had made in Germany had told you not to. They said that you were there to heal. They were right, of course. But, everything just seemed off without her, Alexia gave you balance. As weird as it sounds, she was your everything even if you weren’t hers. 

Once again Alexia’s finger was hovering over your contact. Once again she sighed and turned her phone off. Instead, she decided to shoot her mom a quick text asking if she could come over. Ten minutes later, Alexia is settled on her mom’s couch with Eli sitting across from her with a concerned look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, carino,” Eli asks delicately. Alexia groans in frustration.

“I don’t know, mama. I thought I would be okay, but every damn thing reminds me of her. She just won’t get out of my head. I can’t believe I lost her!” She exclaims, her hands running down her face. Eli just looks sympathetically at her daughter.

“Maybe you haven’t lost her, bebe.”

“What?”

“I mean, you could always go after her, eh? Don’t you have a few days off anyway? Go see her, tell her how you feel about her,” her mother tries to convince her. Alexia shakes her head,

“Mama, what makes you think she would want to see me? I broke her heart. I’m the reason she left! She probably wants nothing to do with me,” she mumbles out the last part sadly.

“You don’t know that. You won’t know that until you talk to her,” Eli reasons, trying everything to get her daughter to shoot her shot. Slowly nodding her head, Alexia starts to come around to the idea. Whipping out her phone, she quickly searches for flights to Munich.

The next day, Alexia walks through the streets of Munich. Surprisingly, your face is everywhere. Billboards, bus benches, store windows, apparently the people of Germany adored you. This doesn’t ease Alexia’s nerves at all. She had it all planned out, after reaching out to one of the Bayern coaches she had a connection with, she was able to discover what time your guys’ training ended and what coffee shop you frequently visited after. So, she waits inside the coffee shop for a few minutes until you walk in. You looked perfect, your hair was still damp from the shower, the Bayern Munich hoodie you donned fit you just right, and the veins on your hand popped ever so slightly when you removed your backpack from your shoulders. There was only one small problem. You weren’t alone. Accompanying you was Klara Bühl. She was standing a little too close to you, her hand a little too close to yours, her laugh a little too loud at your joke. Alexia wanted to sink into her seat. She wanted to disappear. You had moved on. God, she was stupid for thinking you would wait around for her, clearly you had not. She pushed the cap resting on her head further down. Now she had to get out of there. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood up as inconspicuously as she could. Her feet moved swiftly carrying her towards the exit, she was almost there, so close. 

“Alexia?” Your voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She did not want to turn around, she was begging that you would let her go. You did not. “Is that you?” Taking a deep breath, Alexia spun around on her heel with a forced smile on her face.

“Y/N? Hey!” Her voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, Klara sitting behind you was smiling softly.

“Umm, nothing. We had a few days off,” she tries to work her way out of the situation. 

“So you came to Germany? Really?” Your eyebrow was raised slightly. You did not buy it. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Just enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” Alexia snapped, gesturing towards the German behind you. Your eyes widened at the insinuation that Klara was your girlfriend, but before you could say anything Alexia turned around and stormed out of the quiet cafe. You stood frozen to the spot, dumbfounded.

“Go get your girl, dumbass,” Klara, your friend, speaks up from her spot. Didn’t need to tell you twice, you shake out of your trance and sprint through the doors before searching down the sidewalks. Klara watches in amusement while sipping her coffee. Your neck was starting to ache from how quickly you were whipping it around looking for Alexia. Finally spotting her blonde streaked hair in the crowd. You push your way through many groups of people until you reach the Spanish player. Alexia jumps in surprise at your hand suddenly making its way onto her shoulder. 

“Y/N? Wha-” 

“Shut up and let me speak,” you cut her off. She immediately stops her question. “I’ve missed you, Ale. Like, a lot. I tried to move on, I did, but for some unfathomable reason, I can’t. I know you said ‘no’ before but if I’m right in thinking that you flew over here to see me then, I think I can ask again,” You take a deep breath, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Alexia’s face breaks out into a blinding smile. She looks at you, her heart beating like crazy inside of her chest.

“I would love nothing more.”

[xxchumanixx]

Hii, can you write one with reader that is Tim’s rookie, she is really flirty and an extrovert with him, but one day she sets him up, like Lucy did. He gets upset because he feels like she led him on and then he starts a full on love confession because she is the one he wants. And then smut, very sweet with her kinda dom but both of them are switch

Lead me on

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight fingering, fluff, angst, hurt

Word count: 4.545

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! Really liked the idea, and I hope you'll like how I wrote it. Im glad to find my way back to writing your requests and I hope that I'll be a bit quicker with posting again!

Now, enjoy!

Tim had noticed that you were lost in thought, for the third time this shift.

He'd seen you chew on your bottom lip, worrying about you drawing crimson, so hard you'd bitten down on the soft cushion.

It made him wonder what had you so deeply thinking, as he bit on his own lip.

"Everything okay?" he breached the silence, only then noticing how heavy it had been weighing in the air between you. Looking up from the dark display of your phone, you nodded.

"I'm just thinking about something, nothing important." you tried to soothe his worry, sending him a small smile that was meant to reassure him.

He cocked a brow, reading you like an open book. "Don't lie to me, boot."

You hated the nickname, instead wanting him to call you different names - very different ones.

Swallowing, you looked back down. You had to at least test it, see how he'd react. So you gathered all your nerves, reminding yourself, that you wanted to do this as a prank.

It was meant to be funny, after all.

"You said I could be open with you." you began, fumbling with your phone in your hands. He nodded, motioning for you to continue, as you hesitated.

"I have feelings for you."

The shop skidded to a stop on the empty street, as he suddenly slammed the breaks, the seat belt holding you firmly in place. Shock was clear as day on his face, as he looked at you, before he gathered himself enough to park at the sidewalk.

You had to be out of your damn mind, he thought, his heart - unbeknownst to him - matching the racing of yours.

The sudden movement when he stopped the car again, almost had you laughing despite everything, ruining the prank. But the shock on his face, made you swallow.

Maybe he wouldn't find it as funny as you would do. At least you hoped you would at the end of the day.

"Wait-" he asked of you, his tongue brushing over his lower lip in uneasiness. He didn't know how to react properly, you had hit him like a truck with your confession.

"Y/N-" he began, taking a deep breath, as he tried to make sense of the situation, get a hold of it. "Look, you're a beautiful woman - really you are. But you're my rookie, a-and-" he had to stop himself, biting his lip.

This had to be a bad joke.

You did the same, your lip hurting as you bit down to stop yourself from laughing, teeth almost drawing blood. Even if you actually had feelings for him, the moment he would find out you're pranking him, would still be priceless.

The silence grew tense, as the playfulness of the situation slowly faded, though.

Maybe you shouldn't have done this.

He swallowed, you heard it. "Tim-" "Y/N-" you interrupted each other, both closing your mouths.

"I'll go first." you decided before he was able to speak up again, taking a shaky breath. "It was a prank - or at least it was supposed to be one. It should have been funny, but it wasn't. I'm sorry."

He inhaled sharply, as he abruptly turned his head away from you.

That was not how you expected him to react.

Swallowing, you kneaded your hands, the phone tugged away under your thigh. Were you supposed to say something?

Before you could, though, he turned back around sharply, gaze hardened as he fumed silently, with his tongue nudging against the inside of his cheek.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he then suddenly snapped, causing you to flinch in your seat.

Yeah, you had definitely crossed a line there.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself in case he would miss when the radio turned on - failing miserably.

"What do you mean you wanted to prank me? Telling me that you have feelings for me, practically running me over like a bus with your confession! What did you think you were doing? What did you expect?"

You were taken aback by his sudden outburst, not sure how to react. Or how to make up for it, if you'd get out of this alive in the first place.

"I-I-" you stuttered, looking down on your fidgeting hands. "I didn't mean to upset you like that, really. I thought you'd find it funny."

His brows twitched, as did his mouth. He felt like you'd just ran him over again with that damn bus.

"But it isn't." he stated, gaze fixed on you. "It isn't funny. For a moment I thought you'd mean what you said. But then you tell me it's a prank."

He almost sounded hurt, somehow.

Turning away from him, you bit on your cheek, the flesh already raw from all the biting. It was a nervous habit of yours, one you weren't able to get rid of.

Your cheeks burned, most likely turning a deep shade of red.

Honestly, you had expected a lot, but not this.

Lucy had told you how he reacted when she did it - okay, maybe it wasn't original to copy her prank, but she told you how funny it was, so you thought what could go wrong?

A lot, apparently.

But why did he react so differently now?

You were a mere inch away from leaving the car, quitting your job. It was so embarrassing, and you were sure you'd never recover from this.

The silence grew more tense the more time passed, as neither of you knew what to say.

Would he report you? Get you fired? He had your fate in his hands, after all.

"I'm sorry." you pressed out through clenched teeth, trying to not burst into tears. The fact that he reacted that way, made you even more insecure about your feelings for him.

If he'd react like this, getting angry at you, when you'd tell him honestly, you didn't know what you would do.

He forced the car to move again, angrily shifting it into drive, before you drove down the quiet street.

He didn't even react to you trying to apologize.

Breathing in shakily, you looked out at the street, straightening your posture. You had to be attentive. If you'd miss anything, it surely wouldn't help his sour mood.

For a while it was quiet, and for the first time since you drove with Tim, you were happy about your shift ending soon, as the sun settled.

When he parked the car in the garage, you hastily climbed out, opening the trunk to gather the bags and guns. He stayed in his seat, only leaving the car when you closed the trunk again.

Without sparing him another glance, you walked to the output, handing Jerry the items with a forced smile.

The old man didn't know what happened, so you tried to be as calm as possible.

Walking to the locker room, you hurried to get changed, stuffing your things into your backpack, before you slung it over your shoulder.

You didn't wait for Lucy, as you'd normally would when your shifts ended at the same time, instead walking straight towards the exit.

How would the following day get? Would he stay angry at you? Would he ask to be replaced as your TO?

You desperately hoped not, even if you'd never be able to look into his eyes again.

Wiping at your eyes, you put the backpack on the passenger's seat, slamming the door shut, before walking around the car to get inside.

"Y/N!" you heard someone call out your name, panicking as you realized it was Tim, who'd been standing at his truck, now walking towards you.

You hadn't seen him before in the darkness of the parking lot.

It was out of instinct, that you climbed inside the car, starting it, before you hastily moved out of the parking lot.

He knew you'd heard him, your eyes had found his after he'd called out to you. That you were ignoring him now, driving past him, as he stood speechless where your car had been parked, caused his heart to crack.

Had he scared you off?

He was sure he'd upset you, there was no denying it, but that you simply ignored him and chose to flee instead, made him feel all the more insecure.

His heartbeat felt cold in his chest, as he gripped the straps of his backpack tighter.

He had to follow you.

And so he did.

After a few turns, you saw his headlights behind you - his car familiar enough to recognize them. Groaning, you tried to concentrate on the street, ignoring him for the moment, as your heart picked up its pace and your hands began to sweat.

When you eventually parked in your driveway, he parked right behind you, effectively blocking your car, so there was no way for you to escape him again.

Or better yet, flee again.

Now angry, you got out of your car, walking straight towards him as he did the same.

"What do you want?" you asked, frustration seeping out of your pores. "I want to talk." he gave back just as evenly frustrated, stopping a few feet away from you. "I wanted to talk back at the parking lot, but you just drove away."

Your cheeks grew uncomfortably hot, gaze shifting from Tim to the ground beneath him. It seemed so ridiculous to you now, the way you chose to flee instead of letting him confront you.

He would have either way.

A humorless chuckle left you, followed by another. "And now?" you wanted to know, looking back up at him with crossed arms. "Do you want me to tell you I'm sorry? I already did. It was just a stupid prank, I don't even know why you followed me or what you wanna talk about."

Your self defenses flickered to life, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.

His jaw ticked, teeth gritting.

"Did you do it on purpose?" he asked, shaking his head as a look you weren't able to place passed over his features. "Did you lead me on?"

Your brows knitted together in confusion, not fully understanding him. "What do you mean, leading you on?"

He huffed, taking a small step closer, causing you to swallow at the nerves bubbling up inside you, trying to fight them.

"I mean the constant flirting, the way you talk to me." he started to explain, taking another step closer. "The way your hand would brush mine, a simple touch so irrelevant, yet so important. The way you made me-"

He cut himself off, the sentence being left hanging in the air. But you wanted to know the rest of it, wanted to know why he was saying these things.

"Made you what?" you demanded to know, head tilting as your brows furrowed even more.

The light on your porch went out, engulfing you in darkness, but with a flick of your hand it came back to life, illuminating his features in the golden hue again.

Illuminating how painfully handsome he was.

Instead of answering your question, he decided otherwise.

"I believed you, when you told me you have feelings for me." he began, swallowing, as one of his hands balled into a fist at his side. "I believed you and I hoped for it to be true. But then you tell me it's a prank - I-"

He cut himself off again, shaking his head in disappointment, as his eyes looked away. He bit his lip, tearing at the soft cushion so hard, it almost ripped.

Meanwhile, your heart seemed to have caught on fire. You didn't quite get what he wanted to say, yet, but your body grew warmer, the more he spoke.

He ignited the smallest flame of hope inside you. It licked at your heartstrings dangerously, threatening to burn you at any moment.

"I got defensive, pushing you away." he eventually continued, looking back up. The fire in his eyes seemed diminished, their light faded.

"I was angry - to be honest I still am. I wanted to wait for your training to be over, before I- Before I would ask you out on a date."

Your breath hitched in your throat, body involuntarily taking a step back, as the force of his words hit you, setting the small flame ablaze. It momentarily knocked the air out of your lungs, the blood pumping loudly in your ears.

You must have misheard him - that was the only explanation.

He had planned to ask you out on a date?

Tears welled up in your eyes, a horrible realization settling in your stomach, quickly drowning the growing flame: you had scared him off, hurt his feelings.

It was a feeling you didn't like - not at all.

You wanted to say something, but he was faster.

"All this time I thought your flirts and the things you did were intentional, had a meaning. But now I know, that I was wrong. All you did was lead me on, making me believe that you felt the same way, but I was wrong."

"Tim-" you dared to speak up, interrupting him as you took a step back towards him. The words got stuck in your throat, though.

Would he even believe you?

He shook his head, biting his cheek, drawing blood. But he didn't even flinch at the sting it brought, instead breathing it in, to distract him from the turmoil of feelings raging inside him.

"I was so excited, because I was happy that your training is over soon." he continued, breathing in through his nose deeply, as his voice shook the slightest bit. "I was excited, because the waiting would have finally been over. But - again - I was wrong. I have feelings for you, and you decided to make my heart leap out of my chest, just so you could crush it all in the same breath."

You felt like he'd slapped you across the face. His words sent a chill down your spine, knowing that he wouldn't easily forgive you, if he even would in the first place.

"Made you what?" you rasped out, choking on your tears as you demanded an answer for your earlier question. He tensed, swallowing, before he finally answered.

"Made me fall in love with you."

One of the tears spilled, followed by another and another. Eyes closing, your head hang low. His confession was what you had hoped to hear for the last months, almost a year, yet it crushed you, groping at you with iron claws.

One stupid prank had ruined everything.

Eyes opening again, you lifted them, meeting his. His gaze was glued to you, even when you hadn't been looking at him. He seemed like he demanded an answer, yet fearing what it would be.

"You are in love with me?" you choked out, hands trembling. Your heart nearly stumbled, having trouble to believe him, but he nodded.

"I'm in love with you, too." you confessed, even though it might have been too late now. "Have been for almost a year now."

Something flashed through his eyes, the light of your porch going out again, before he brought it back to life with a wave if his arm.

Suddenly, he was way closer than before, having used the moment of distraction.

"Say it again." he breathed out, hope making his eyes glitter. "I'm in love with you." you repeated, relishing in the way it made his eyes flutter closed briefly. "Again." he whispered, hands finding yours.

"I'm in love with you, Tim Bradford."

He inhaled sharply, his grip on your hands tightening. "Why did you prank me?" he wanted to know, reigniting the guilt inside you. Sighing, you looked down.

"It was Lucy's idea." you admitted, biting your tear stained lip, tasting the salt. "She told me about how she did it last year, so I thought I could test the waters with it. But you reacted so badly, that I decided to leave it as a prank, not telling you the real intention I had."

"I wanted to be the first." he spoke, tugging at your hands slightly, pulling you closer, as your eyes found their way back to his. "I wanted to ask you out on a date, tell you how I feel. I wanted it to be something special."

Swallowing, you nodded. Your eyes flickered to his lips, his breath on your own.

"Then make it something special." you said, voice husky.

You didn't have to tell him twice, as his lips found yours in an eager kiss. You inhaled him, as you kissed him back. Your hands entangled from his, finding his neck instead. His own grabbed your waist, tugging you closer.

The wood scraped against your back, as he pushed you against the front door of your house, demanding entrance with his tongue.

You greedily let him in, fumbling for your keys, as you did so, coming up with nothing.

His fingers impatiently brushed your pants pocked, eliciting a hushed giggle from you, as he fumbled for your keys.

"God damn it." he grumbled, braking apart from you, as he didn't find them either. Your brows furrowed, as he jogged to your car, ripping the door open and retrieving the key.

In your hurry to get to him, you had left it in the ignition.

Brushing the hair out of your face, you huffed as he held it up, locking your car, before he stepped around you, opening the door to let you both in.

The intensity of the situation was thick, palpable, as he closed the door behind you, not wasting any time to pull you back to him, his lips back on yours.

He blindly walked you backwards into the open living, kitchen and dining area. Your hips hit the dining table, causing the few things on it to rattle and shake. His hands gripped your thighs, helping you to sit on it.

Yours found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards, as he did the same with yours. Your arms tangled, causing you to break apart.

His eyes narrowed, as he tugged at your shirt meaningfully, but you were too stubborn to let him go first, as you tugged as well.

You stared each other in the eyes, both too stubborn and dominant to give in. His head dipped down, lips finding your neck. He began to suck, causing your eyes to flutter closed, as you momentarily lost focus.

He used the distraction to remove your hands, tugging the shirt over your head.

You huffed breathlessly, realizing how he had distracted you to go first. He chuckled, sending you a smirk that sent sparks down to your core, making your legs weak.

Removing his shirt as well, you let it fall to the floor, before his lips found your neck again, kissing downwards and over the swell of your breasts, as he pushed you down on the table.

Your breathing faltered, as one of his large hands cupped one of your breasts through the fabric of your bra. His thumb brushed over the covered nipple, making you shiver at the distant sensation.

Suppressing a moan, you pushed up on your elbows, as he unfastened your bra, throwing it on the floor, as his mouth attached to one of the hardened peaks.

His tongue swirled around it, tearing a gasp from you, the pleasure sent straight to your core.

Grabbing his shoulder, you pushed him back. He looked at you with confusion, tilting his head, but you continued pushing, until he was sitting down on the chair beside him, as realization struck him.

Chuckling in amusement, he adjusted so he was sitting more comfortably, eagerly reaching for you as you straddled his lap.  

Your hands found his bare chest, tracing over the muscles that contracted underneath your fingertips at the touch. His hands found your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

His breathing hitched, as you rolled against his covered erection with your jeans clad core. His grip on you tightened, most likely leaving marks.  

He guided you, as you did it again, softly moaning at the bit of friction it gave you. Pushing down as you did it over and over again, he tried to increase the pressure, his hard-on painfully straining against the fabric of his pants.  

He liked your dominant nature, often having imagined what you’d act like in a situation like this, with unholy thoughts filtering through his mind.  

"Fuck." Tim muttered, hazy from the friction, yet unsatisfied. He tried to regain the upper hand, but you wouldn't let him. Chuckling into his ear, you teased the shell of it with your tongue, his hard-on rocking into you, as he shuddered in response.

Fuck, you were dominant, but so was he.

Letting you continue your movement, he tugged at the button on your jeans, opening it, before he grabbed your ass harshly, causing you to moan into his ear, and he temporarily lost focus at the heavenly sound.

He took you with him as he stood, causing you to yelp slightly in surprise, as he put you back on the table, pushing you down on it, so you were lying on it.

He didn't have the patience to move to another room or surface, as he unzipped your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your panties.

Gasping as the cold air hit your wet cunt, you watched him strip his remaining clothes as well.

He was gorgeous, for all he was worth. Shaped in just the right way, no matter which part of his body.

His lips found yours, as he leaned over you, his fingers parting your folds to collect some of your arousal, before he used it to rub your clit in delicate circles.

You moaned at the feeling, arching into him, as one of his fingers slipped inside you, soon followed by a second, pumping in and out of you, preparing you for his cock, eliciting beautiful sounds from you in which he bathed.

He watched your face as it contorted, teetering on the brink of your first orgasm. Just as you almost made it over the edge, he removed his fingers, using the remaining liquid on them to stroke his cock, aligning it with your entrance.

You fell down the cliff, but on the wrong side, as the build up tension slowly subsided again, leaving you deeply unsatisfied.

He teased you, brushing through your folds with the tip, barely pushing inside. It made you see stars, as you desperately pleaded for more - a stark contrast to the dominance you had emitted only moments ago.

He liked the sound of that even more.

Your pleas were fulfilled, as he suddenly pushed inside, stretching you deliciously. He slowly inched forward, groaning at how tight you gripped him.

You believed to burst, when he filled you to the brim, his hips meeting yours in a chaste kiss, as the tip of his cock lightly brushed your cervix. You moaned, not having expected him to be this big.

His lips attached to your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping, as he waited for your go, hips rutting into you the slightest bit, as he had struggle to compose himself, now that he was finally buried inside your heat.

Your fingertips brushed his nipple and he jerked forward, eyes meeting yours, as you grinned up at him. Shaking his head, he took it as his signal to finally move.

He slid out of your dripping cunt slowly, before he pushed back inside with a snap of his hips, causing you to choke on a breath, gasping afterwards.

His lips parted in a strangled moan, at the way you clenched around him, dragging him closer to the edge with each thrust. He pulled back out, but you clenched down on him on purpose, causing him to rut right back inside you, before he even had a chance to really pull out.

He shook his head at you, laughing quietly, as he smirked down at you.

Two can play this game.

His lips found your nipple, your back arching as he sucked it into his mouth, all the while slowly rocking in and out of you. The pace was brutally soft, teasing you to the brink of tears, as his tongue flicked over the hardened peak.

"Tim..." you breathed out desperately, heels digging into his back to make him move faster. He smirked against your nipple, but complied, as he picked up the pace.

Soon he was pounding into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spongy spot that made you moan his name with each thrust, believing to see stars. You were a panting and moaning mess under him, fully subjected to him.

He groaned and moaned into your ear, as he chased your releases, trying to hold back until you would be coming. His pace was relentless, as he fucked into you, the objects on the table soon tipping over, but neither of you cared.

"I'm close." you announced out of breath, though gasping, as he hit that one spot again. His lips found yours, as his fingers ghosted down your body and to where you were connected, parting your folds to find your clit.

He rubbed circles on it and you cried out, coming hard on his cock. Clenching down on him, you made it even harder for him to move, dragging him over the edge with you, as he moaned your name in bliss.

His warmth filled you up, as he stilled, harshly breathing as he tried to calm his racing heart. Yours seemed like it would never stop racing, lung desperately burning for air.

"Wow." you breathed, still feeling a bit dizzy. He smiled down at you, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah."

You fell silent for a moment, as his eyes searched yours for any sign of regret. But he found none.

"I want you." he admitted, clearing his throat as he shifted his weight on top of you. "I want to go on a date with you."

His words caused you to smile up at him, the happiness spreading through you as you still glowed from your high.

He believed he'd never seen anything this beautiful before.

"I want that too." you admitted, nodding. "I want to go out with you, even if we have to hide for the rest of my training."

His face fell slightly, only then remembering your current situation, before he nodded as well, pecking your lips. "I'm willing to hide with you." he spoke, his hips connecting with yours again as he rocked forward, earning a gasp from you.

He chuckled, lips brushing over your cheek.

"And then, when your training is over and you're officially a p2, we won't have to hide anymore." he continued, kissing down your jaw and to your neck, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"I will tell everyone that you're mine."

Your body shivered pleasantly at his words, sighing in bliss. "I like that idea."

"Good, 'cause now you'll never get rid of me again." he promised you, looking back up into your eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@rookietrek @augustvandyne