#or in a silent state of ''wtf is going on''

[pianokantzart]

A small collection of Mario looking like a kid who got off at the wrong bus stop

#LOVE how much of this movie is Mario either being in awe #or in a silent state of ''wtf is going on'' #He's so ''just a little guy'' coded #I'm here for it #Mario Movie #Super Mario Brothers #Mario

[beesfairlyland]

How to get you Desires instantly?...jk...just wanna talk about my take on 'void state'!!

First of all i hate the word void (not kinda hate hate...but the way ppl are obsessed over it... even i was once lol). After studying the concept of Non-Duality the way i used to see the void ...the way i used to put it on pedestal (i cringed😭) it all changed. I realised we are putting something on the pedestal to which we give the existence.

Void is nothing more than a state that exists because YOU give your awareness to it. Void is a state just like Bee(me) is a state that SELF created! There's nowhere to reach/enter.

Void is nothing but just to be aware of being unconscious. To be aware while this body sleeps.

Okayy I'll ask you to simply meditate....not to reach anywhere...not to enter void....not to get your desires.

Soo first get in comfortable position to meditate.

Now just focus on your breathing, let the thoughts pass by don't engage with them. Just watch them and keep your focus on breathing.

Slowly your mind will start to quieten. As your are observing all this happening. You'll know that you are just the observer of thoughts...you are not the thought....these thoughts ain't yours but of this unreal mind's.

This meditation is to just make you realise that you are the awareness behind these thoughts not the thought itself.

Continue focusing on the breathing. There will be a moment where the mind will become silent and that's when you are one with the awareness. That's the NON-DUAL STATE aka the void state.

This meditation is not to reach the non dual state.... it's to know that you are the observer doesn't matter if the mind goes silent or not. Just to experience who you are try this meditation with zero expectations. If mind got silent great!! But if it didn't then also greatt!!

Now the main problem/mistake that ppl do while meditating for the non-dual state(void state). They don't let the mind think itself....they think with the mind themselves. Didn't understand? Wait lemme explain....you don't let the mind wander or think on it's own instead you yourself start thinking....if i am doing it right, how much more time, it'll be happening soon bla bla.

Just only coz y'all 'try' the void to get your 'desires' that feeling makes you anxious. Getting everything all at once sounds too good to be true to the ego (tho you ALREADY have everything) soo it starts getting anxious and that's totally opposite of meditating.

When bloggers say 'void' is easy....IT ISSS. But this ego don't wanna believe it.

And no you really don't need to affirm, or do methods, listen to subliminals, need a void concept (lol wtf is even that), LITERALLY NOTHING. IT'S JUST A STATE THAT YOU BECOME AWARE OF!!

It's just you are aware of getting your 'desires' instantly... that's why you get your 'desires' instantly. Void ain't your purest form or something. It's just a state from which you can experience you being the awareness from the closest (or may be not).

Literally ppl have hyped it soo much that now it's toxic. I am not against the 'void state'. But the way ppl ruin their mental health by putting something like this on the pedestal....it shrinks my heart. Coz I've been thru that and i don't want y'all go thru the same phase of exhaustion.

Just know that it's just a made up state just like this ego is made up by the SELF. Nothing special at all!!

Hope i could convey what i wanted too!🫶🏻✨

-Love, bee💗🧚🏻‍♀️

#non dualism #nonduality #void #void state #non duality #nondualism #self realization #realisation #consciousness #self

[itsmealaiah]

Omfg your smut is so hot wtf. I need a submissive virgin bill smut where he begs his best friend (fem reader) to make his “ache” go away

PLS

oh hell yes

Pinch the nips I'm a tease

(2014 Bill x Fem)

Tags/ warnings: corruption, sub! bill, (he's a virgin as stated) teasing, riding, head (m receiving) begging, slight size k!nk

MDNI ⚠️

Synopsis: After continuous weeks of y/n teasing poor Bill, she finally gives in and gives him what he craves.

A/n: this request is actually so hot i'm gonna sob.

The scent of sweat and desire filled the air as Bill Kaulitz lay on the bed, his body tense and aching for release. His eyes were shut tightly, his fists clenched, and his lips parted in a silent plea for the relief he so desperately craved. His best friend, y/n, had been teasing him mercilessly for weeks, their late-night conversations filled with promises of the pleasure she would give him. She knew he was a virgin, and she seemed to delight in the idea of being his first, his only. Bill could feel himself growing harder and harder beneath the sheets, his hips thrusting upward in silent invitation.

Finally, y/n stepped into the room, her movements fluid and sensual. She was wearing nothing but a tiny pair of lace underwear that hugged her curves and made Bill's heart race. She climbed onto the bed beside him, her hand finding its way to his crotch, where she began to stroke him through his pajama bottoms. "Are you ready for me, Bill?" she purred.

He nodded frantically, his hips bucking upward, seeking more contact. "Please, y/n," he gasped. "I can't take much more."

She grinned wickedly, her fingers finding the hem of his pajama top and pushing it upwards, revealing his chest and stomach to the cool air. With a sultry laugh, she leaned down and kissed his neck, her tongue flicking out to trace a line down his collarbone. Bill arched his back, moaning loudly as she continued to tease him. Finally, she pushed his pajama bottoms down and off, freeing his hard length from its confines.

"Oh, Bill," she breathed, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "You're so big." She leaned forward, taking him into her mouth, and Bill cried out, his hips bucking violently as pleasure washed over him in waves. He could feel her expert tongue dancing along his length, teasing and caressing, driving him wild. "That's it," she murmured, her lips closing around him, her throat working as she began to bob her head up and down. "Let me help you feel better."

Bill gripped the sheets, his knuckles white as he fought for control. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, and every stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. He could feel himself getting closer, the pressure building inside him, threatening to explode. "Y/n," he moaned, his voice hoarse. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

She looked up at him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. "Cum for me," she whispered. "Let it all out." And with those words, he did. His body tensed, his hips bucking violently as he emptied himself into her mouth, crying out her name as waves of ecstasy washed over him. When at last he collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air, she crawled up beside him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. "That's it," she murmured, kissing his cheek. "All better now."

But Bill couldn't get enough. He felt a new ache growing inside him, an ache that only y/n could satisfy. He reached down between their bodies and guided her tiny lace underwear aside, revealing her wetness to him. "Please," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Can you… help me feel better again?"

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Bill," she purred, lowering her hips until she was positioned above him. He could feel her warmth pressing against his length, and with a groan of pleasure, he reached up to guide her, helping her to sink down onto him. They both gasped as their bodies connected, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through them. She began to move, her hips undulating in a sinuous dance that drove him wild. Her breasts swayed with each thrust, brushing against his chest, and he could feel her inner muscles gripping him tightly, milking him with each movement.

"Oh God, y/n," he moaned, his hands digging into her hips. "You feel so good." She leaned forward, her lips finding his neck once again, her teeth grazing his skin as she moved. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure coursing through him, heightening the already intense sensations pulsing through his body. He could feel himself growing closer and closer to the edge, but he didn't want it to end. He wanted to stay wrapped up in her forever.

Finally, with a cry that was part pleasure and part anguish, he let go, his body convulsing as he emptied himself deep inside her. She held him close, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered soothing words and stroked his back. When the spasms finally began to subside, she leaned back, her head resting on his shoulder, their sweat-slick bodies still connected. "There," she breathed. "All better now."

They lay there together, their hearts racing and their skin flushed, as the afterglow of their lovemaking washed over them. Bill felt a sense of contentment and belonging that he had never experienced before, and he knew that from now on, y/n would always be a part of him.

As they caught their breath, Bill couldn't help but wonder what other adventures they would share together. The possibilities seemed endless, and he felt a thrill of anticipation course through him. He reached up, running his fingers through her hair, and smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. "That was… incredible."

She smiled back at him, her eyes shining with love and happiness. "You're welcome, Bill," she said softly. "Anytime you want me, all you have to do is ask." And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him, their lips lingering together as they began to drift off to sleep, their hearts still beating in time with each other.

a/n: 🥰 now to go on with daily life and be social 😭

#bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #bill kaulitz fanfic #itsmealaiah #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you

[meaningofaeons]

Hello! Have you played the latest part of the xianzhou quest? If not ignore this ask lmao.

If yes, holy shi the potential for hurt comfort in the scenes of the final battle against phentylia??

I wanted to ask if you could write a hurt/comfort fic jing yuan x reader, where reader is in the battle and sees all the shit go down and is quite shaken.

Thanks!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ at the end of immortality

⊹ character(s) - jing yuan ⊹ word count - 829 ⊹ notes - SPOILERS FOR 1.2 TRAILBLAZE MISSION !!!, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, reader is like jing yuan's right-hand in battle and in the seat of divine foresight/implied to be a guard of some sort to him, reader and jing yuan are not together but they're both pining hard, a bit angsty but still comfort, not edited sorry

hi anon omg. this ask got me giggling kicking my feet like YES... thank you for requesting!! (＾º◡º＾❁) (also im so sorry I made this a little more angsty than I expected to wtf!!!!)

You were mad. Furious, even.

Jing Yuan could tell without even beholding your expression that you were positively seething with rage.

Towards him.

He dare not say a word about your current state to your face, though. Not when you silently draped new bandages over his wounds, and not when your hands lingered just a bit longer than they should've.

Not when he could feel the near-imperceptible tremble of your fingertips as you carefully nursed him back to health, treating him like a precious ornament that may break at the slightest touch.

"...How bad is it?"

The General's hoarse voice cut the silence like Dan Heng's spear had cut right through his torso.

Your mind flashed back to the scene, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

"General!"

Jing Yuan fell through the air as Phantylia's grip faltered at last. He wasn't a Void Ranger, but...

Seeing the spear of the Vidyadhara High Elder pierce him had just about sent the same level of fear shooting through you. As though the weapon had pierced your chest, instead.

"Y/N, wait!"

"Imbibitor Lunae, what did you—?!"

Your fury came off in waves, your distress even more palpable. The aforementioned Vidyadhara—no, Dan Heng—approached you with the General in his arms, handing him off with little resistance as you helped the man to a stand.

He was still alive. You could've wept. He was still alive.

But he wasn't okay.

"I told you to stay back," you whispered, forcing your hands to still as you finished patching up his wound. They brushed over the space where Dan Heng's spear hit, and you winced at Jing Yuan's flinch.

At his slight chuckle, you worried he might come up with some witty quip that would undoubtedly enrage you into pounding your fist against his wounded back.

Instead, he only turned to gaze at you, golden eyes smoldering.

"You know I couldn't do that."

As angry as you were, you did know.

But still...

What use is a guard if their charge is always the one at the front lines?

As the General of the Xianzhou Luofu... what could you even do for such a brilliant man?

"If it had been you up there, I may have died in my worry. I'm not getting any younger, my dear."

"And neither am I. Do you have no care for the pain you put my heart through?"

Your words were far from proper, your actions even less so as you rested your weary head on the General's shoulder. He seemed to lack any concern for his own propriety, his hand reaching up to grasp your own, his rough thumb brushing your fingertips with a delicate tenderness you didn't want to think too much into.

"...I'm sorry."

Jing Yuan's relenting words were bittersweet to your wanting ears, roughened by his strain. You clutched his hand just a bit tighter.

"Is that an apology for your actions, or an apology for the fact that you'll continue to be reckless until the day you die?"

He chuckled more. The sound sent a warm, tingling feeling through your chest, a feeling that you desperately clutched to in your distress.

"Would you hit me if I said both?"

"I'll be merciful enough to save it for when you're in better shape."

The rumbling laughter continued, and you silently scolded the man for the chance of exacerbating his wounds. He only deflected the blame unto you for your quip, and you sighed out.

Ease. Your anger dissipated, fading into a comfortable silence that the General did not dare break again.

He also did not dare, however, to turn and face you. You were grateful for that.

Because in spite of your assuaged rage, your abated worries, you still fear many things.

You fear seeing new scars on Jing Yuan that you did not have to see before. You fear seeing the exhaustion grow in his youthful features, yet aged all the same. You fear the possibility that he is only a phantasm, that the mara has stricken your mind at last and all you have left of him is a pathetic delusion created by your own longing.

More than any of that, somehow, you fear that if he were to turn around in this very moment, you would cross that one line you had sworn never to touch.

The line that, when crossed, would allow you to abandon all restraint. The line that, when crossed, would mean you grasp your General in the way you've longed to, kissing him slowly to make sure he's really still here with you. To make him promise he would be here with you, forever, until the end of your immortality.

Judging from the way Jing Yuan placed his rough lips upon the back of your hand, you knew he was thinking the same.

Not yet. Not now, not even now.

But perhaps one day, it wouldn't be such a daunting wall to scale.

#jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai x reader #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #jingyuan

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ this one’s kinda long, for some reason my episode made me more productive wtf

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie

Chapter 6: At Home

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Mentions of child labor(?), cursing, a fuck ton of flirting, a bit suggestive (THIS IS HOW I ACTED WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN😭😭), daddy issues.

FIC MASTERLIST

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Montrell casts his eyes beyond the limousine's window to the sight of the traffic, the nostalgic view of Manhattan flooding his sights. To those unfamiliar with the borough, Manhattan would seem plausibly sophisticated to the average man, but he thinks of it as somewhat more provincial compared to cities he's flown to. Whether it be Venice, Singapore, or Dubai.

It’s nice to be home, he thinks. He’s grown to miss it all after spending a few years in London. But what he certainly missed the most was the presence of his family, particularly the one sitting next to him with a restless knee.

"This little... Brat."

Five missed calls. Twenty unseen messages.

"Is there a problem?"

Antonne snaps his head. "Nothing. It's nothing at all." He announces way too quickly.

Montrell taps at his collar, tugging at the tightness of his tie. "You're looking very restless." His voice gravelly speaks, laced with exhaustion from his eight-hour flight from good ol' London to New York. "I just got back home, now you're making me nervous."

Antonne doesn't reply, his attention still glued onto the flat of his screen. He alternatively switches between texting and calling, feverishly anxious. "It's nothing. Don't mind it."

Montrell parts his lips to reply, but instead silently agrees to drop the topic.

"... I trust everyone’s been well?" He piqued. "Seeing the news I've been receiving from the press, and my classmates, I'd reckoned you'd have improved since the last... Predicament."

“Predicament?”

“Would you rather I word it any other way?”

Antonne grimaces at the fine way Montrell speaks— his sophisticated accent bleeding into his every word.

"I have improved." He states, a little too condescendingly. "Wouldn't you have known that by now?"

"Well," Montrell sits up straight. "None of the problems you cause particularly strike me as interesting. However, I do have one particular concern. Have you been taking care of [Y/n]?"

At the mention of you, Antonne tenses up distastefully. "I've been taking care of her too much." He grits. "She's very, and I mean very, hard-headed."

Speaking of taking care of you, Antonne's been calling and texting your number for the last hour, thinking you'd still be up at this time. Seeing as how you weren't, you were probably fast asleep.

Oh, if only he knew.

"Well, we all share that trait now, don't we?" Montrell teases. "Stubbornness, hard-headedness. In the end, we all chalk it up to ambition. She’s sixteen, after all. Time passes by too fast." He bemoans. "I ought to take her to Shanghai after the fundraising event, little bonding or so."

"You do know that after the fund-raiser, people are going to lure her out of the manor for publicity?"

"Precisely." Montrell rolls the window open, placing a cigarette between his teeth. "But you and I both know how stubborn [Y/n] is. Do you really think anyone can force her out of her comfort zone?"

Antonne straightened his lips. "If she doesn't want to be cast away by society, she would have to try, or she’ll vanish off the map.”

Speaking of vanishing, where were you?

The rules of high society were simple.

Appear neat, be mindful of how you present yourself, and always, always take mind in how you act.

For the longest time, you followed these rules as though they were your variant of the ten commandments. Your mother ensured you a place in New York’s elite for your sake, or so she says. Since then, you crafted your whole image from people’s expectations of you.

By the time you were eight, you constantly switched between masks and personalities— that were all titled separately according to every event.

The beloved golden child; the mature older sister with her head leveled well, ; the bitchy conglomerate heiress with her head in the clouds; and your current, and notably hardest, façade; the obedient daughter who knows when to shut the fuck up.

A talent Antonne didn’t have, unfortunately.

Now, you had another title to hold onto.

“Are you sure your mother isn’t in there?”

You shift uncomfortably, arms crossed before your chest.

“She’s working the night shift tonight.” Miles reasoned, fishing the keys out of his pocket. “It’s not like you’re going to sleep here anyways— plus, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home like that?” He gestures over to your clothes that were soaked in dirt and rain.

Seven days ago, you swore neatness over any speck of dirt.

Yet here you are, some little girl who stole her brother’s bike, rode all the way down to Brooklyn in the rain, and kissed a boy out in the street.

You didn’t want to meet Miles’ mother like this. You wanted to present yourself the way most mothers would expect of their sons’ girlfriends— polite, proper, and of course, neat.

At that moment, you were just some wet nobody who came out of nowhere, wearing your brother’s stolen hoodie, stolen pants, and stolen shirt. Perhaps the shoes were stolen too.

“Gentleman my ass.” You mumbled, shivering like a sinner at church. You hear Miles deridingly snicker.

“I’ve always been a gentleman to you, you’re just oblivious as fuck.”

“I grew up with polite people. Politeness is my normalcy.”

“Don’t seem like it.”

You click your tongue.

Miles laughs at the way you glare. He’s grown way too used to seeing you like this. “M’just kidding, ma, don’t get all riled up, goddamn.” He simpered. “I guess I just have to out-gentleman the men in yo life, huh.”

“You can try, but that’d be kinda difficult.”

The door to his apartment then creaks open, a dark hall that smelled like citrus and florals awaited before you. Miles steps aside, gesturing you to go inside first. As you do, the warm air greets you like a welcome, the tension in your shoulders finally releasing. You mindfully looked down, checking to see if you were staining the floors.

Miles then slips his shoes off, making you follow suit.

“I’m gonna go get’chu a towel before you start spraying your bubonic plague germs all over my crib.”

“The bubonic plague’s a dead virus, dumbass.”

“It will be, when you die from hypothermia.”

“I fucking hate you— so much.” You breathily squeezed with clackering teeth. Miles only laughs, heading off to fetch the towel. As his fingers flick the lights open, you’re welcomed to the sight of this cozy home. You marveled, like a child first visiting Disney World, at the small picture frames hanging from the walls. There, you could see images of little Miles– with his hair unbraided and eyes a little brighter. There was one of him with his front teeth knocked out, still smiling as wide as ever while holding a puppy in his arms.

Hung jackets, mismatched cabinets, and walls with chipped wallpaper.

It was.. A foreign sight to you.

Somehow, this tiny apartment seemed much homelier than your own.

“Here ya go.” Miles approaches you with the towel in his hand. Though you try to reach out for it, Miles maneuvers it past your grasps and instead pats it over your head, humming a tune to himself. You look up, admiring the way he meticulously takes care of you, cautiously ruffling your hair as though every strand were pure gold. And when he notices you staring, he puts the towel over your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not even doing anything.” Your voice muffles, trying to pry his hands away. When he does take the towel off, he’s bent down to your level, face inches away from yours and smirking in a way that irked you. He then places both his covered hands over your cheeks, squeezing lightly.

“You look like a goldfish.” Miles piqued with a toothy grin. “Thas craaazy.”

You furrow your brows. “Fwook owff.”

“Fwook owff indeed.” He mocks of your voice before releasing you. “Now, you gon’ go inside or what?”

You move your head a bit, eyeing the apartment behind him. “You sure your mama ain’t there?”

“If my mama was here, she woulda whooped my damn ass for bringing a girl home.”

“… So she ain’t home?”

Miles stared at you. “…. Do I look like I’m getting my ass beat r’now?”

“… No.”

“… Exactly.”

Hesitantly, you stepped into the apartment, holding the towel close. You can see the kitchen drawing near, a few unwashed glasses in the sink, family pictures on the fridge, and lace tablecloth above the mahogany. There were tiny plants on the shelves, scattered books and chargers, and undone laundry in the baskets. It was the kind of home your mother used to mock— the kind of living she spoke so ill about, a glimpse of her past.

Strangely, you adored everything about it.

“Sorry bout the mess.” Miles sighed. “I was gonna clean up tonight— but I brought you here.”

“No— no,” You sigh, gaze still skimming around in amazement. “Your place is.. Absolutely lovely.”

A slip of an accent. Something sort of posh. Miles notices it, but he pretends not to.

“My mom’s the one who designed most of it— I just let her do what she wants since I ain’t really much of an interior designer.” He kicks a few trinkets away from his path, making way for you.

“I love her tastes.” A genuine compliment, not the falsified ones you half-heartedly gave out to the elite. “Can you, uh, tour me more?”

Miles looks around, also somewhat lost. He slips his hands out his pockets, randomly pointing at places while not uttering a word. You follow where his finger leads, expecting an explanation, but all you get was a gaping “uh…”

“What?”

“… Mujer, this is a two-bedroom apartment, I don’t really know what I can show you here.”

When he noticed the way you clutch the towel, he places his hand over the knob of his bedroom door.

“You still cold?” He suddenly asks. You shrug. “Sort of— my clothes are still kinda wet, but your apartment’s really warm.”

“If you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, and we can hang your clothes r’now so they can dry.”

“That,” You hesitate for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m probably gonna leave in an hour.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, ma.” He tugs on the end of your sleeve just to pull you in his bedroom, revealing a somewhat small but well-decorated room nonetheless. There were clipped drawings on the walls, framed pictures, posters, and a large trio of windows at the center. From there, you gasp and approach it immediately, sitting by the sill while staring at the rainy Brooklyn before you.

“What? This your first time seein windows?”

“.. I don’t usually keep the windows open like this— AH! MILES. MILES. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” You smack your hands up against your eyes.

Miles, who had taken off his jacket, stood before you dressed in a plain wife beater, his lean arms drenched in sweat and rain. You kept your hands over your eyes, swallowing immensely.

“Don’t be so damn dramatic, I’m still dressed.” He huffs.

“Miles, idunnoaboutyoubutthisisveryimproper.” You speak in between heaves.

He clicked his tongue. “Aight, aight. Hol on.”

And in a moment of silence, you hear subtle shifts. Ironically, you can’t help but part your fingers in an attempt to take a peek at him. When Miles looks your way, you swiftly turn around and hit your head against the window with a soft thud.

“Are you done yet?” You ask, rubbing your aching forehead.

You hear him draw closer.

Placing a hand above you, Miles corners you into the sill. You look at him with widened eyes, hands over your mouth just to seal the squeal threatening to burst out of your throat.

“You look like you ain’t ever seen a guy’s arms before, ma.”

“I've seen a lot of arms before, thanks." You defensively answered, watching him remain ever-so amused by your shyness. Seeing you flustered like this was a surprise even for Miles who'd grown too used to you being cocky most of the damn time. He didn't think you were the type to go red just by the sight of his biceps.

"I guess I'm just too fine as hell, huh?"

Miles mischievously bends down to your level, fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Like instinct, you look up with furrowed brows.

"Hasn’t anyone ever told you to be humble, hm?"

"Ain't nobody ever told me shit," He grins. "What I do know is that you've been calling me pretty boy for the last two months, talkin shit 'bout how much you like pretty people, now suddenly, after kissin' me n all that, you're not saying it anymore. Really, mami," He kneels down before you, looking up into your eyes.

"Ain’t I a pretty boy to you no more?"

Miles watches and watches. He wanted to test the limits of how flustered you could get, but instead, he finds your amusement scribbled all over your face. Like a switch, your arrogance finds its way back to you. The light of the streets gleamed behind you as he marveled at the shadows cascading over your pretty face, a few droplets escaping from your soaked strands and down to the nape of his neck.

Your lone finger traces the lower half of his lip, tapping in intervals. Miles tries to head in for a kiss, but you pull away, pulling the hoodie he's buried in his arms out for you to wear.

"Sit down, Miles."

Straightening his lips, he mumbled.

"Yes, ma’am."

He stands up, heading over to sit by your side. As he watched you slip on his hoodie, he couldn't help but wonder.

“… When am I gonna come over to your house?”

As your head pops out of the hood, your eyes widened after hearing the sudden question.

"My house?" You repeat.

"… Who else’s?”

It’s crossed your mind several times— bringing Miles over. You’ve thought of taking him in under the guise of a project, or claiming he’s some kid you tutor, but it wasn’t particularly your home that was the problem. It was that Miles didn’t know anything about the sort of life you’re living.

If he were to ever find out, his view of you would completely change.

And you didn’t want that.

Your hands begin to fumble with the edge of the jacket.

“… I don’t know if I could let you meet my parents.. Or let you in my house yet.”

“Why not?”

Your gaze narrows. “.. Just… Stuff.”

Your gaze travels to the sights of the silvery pavements beyond the glass windows, hands reaching out to pluck the dry skin off your lips. Seeing this, Miles reaches out for your hands, gently pulling you over to his side. You follow his guide, wrapping your hands over his waist and resting your head against his chest. Silently, he plays with the ends of your drenched hair, resting his chin above your head. Hearing the way his heart beats, your own comes to ease down to match his pace.

Despite the comfort you were in, you were still understandably stiff. You’ve never been like this before, and for a while, you begin to agree with the movies you’ve seen— suddenly, the space between his arms became your favorite place.

“.. Ma, I’m gonna be pretty honest with you. I’ve been really wanting to know what’s up with your family.” Miles mumbles against your hair. “.. And I know how hard it is to open up, but I really wanna understand you.”

“… You don’t have to do all that, Miles.”

“I want to.” He insists. “I want to understand every part of you.”

His fingers comb through the sea of your locks, his brown gaze drawn to the shifting of your feet. He feels your head sink down to the center of his abdomen, and now you’re lying on his lap with your head turned to the window.

“… Are you sure?” You query so subtly, like you’d break if he were to falter.

He agreeably hums, fiddling with the tip of your strands.

“But Ion want’chu to force yourself, y’know?” Miles mumbles. “You don’t have to tell me now.”

“No,” You intervene. “No, you’re right.” Your eyes flutter shut. “I’ve been keeping everything to myself for too long… It’s draining me.”

What was there to say? What would a rich girl like you have to stress about so much?

“… How do I even start it?”

Miles tugged on one of your strands gently. “Well.. What are your parents like?”

You turn your head to look up at him.

Your hands flinch, almost like they were shaking. Miles takes his own and intertwines it with yours, easing you entirely. A quivering breath exits your lips, lashes fanning down.

“My father isn’t really much of a father to me.” You begin. “… More like a boss? I believe. Yeah, that’s the right word to say it. My family owns a.. Business. Small business.”

Small business. A grand hotel that’s been running since the industrial revolution of Manhattan— passed down from generation to generation. Your family was its sole custodian, and unfortunately for you, you weren't in line to be the lady of the house.

"What kind of business?"

You bite your lower lip, trying to pull through with an appropriate answer. "It's like an—" Your brow twitches. "A sort of.. Event place and catering or something like that.. Yeah." You vaguely answer. "... Like an inn."

Inn. The last time someone ever used that word, Jesus was being nailed at the cross.

"So.. Your family is, like, what? Rich?"

Rich?

You swallow the lump in your throat, lowering your voice. "My family's... Capable. Not that rich, but we make do."

You can sense him picturing this average, suburban American household— the kind of folks who can send off their daughter to a private academy and afford business-class trips to different countries every three years. As his mouth hung agape, Miles eventually does nod to signal that he’s getting the gist of your story. ".. Okay? So what do you do there?"

"I'm in charge of the upkeep." You search for a less complicated explanation. "Basically, I'm the one keeping the whole building clean. I'm in charge of customer service, and tidying things up when shit goes down the drain. I make daily reports, and I keep track of.. My dad’s employees."

You were the family's hostess, the one in charge of overseeing high-profile events. Though you weren't of the best pedigree, your family was still impossibly wealthy, and your mother's good looks spared you and your brothers from looking plain, and that enough made you interesting to many suitors.

You handled the media, covered up minor scandals, and took charge of spreading rumors for your family's sake.

Your father claimed it was practice, for god knows what— you weren't even the inheritor of the damn place.

"That's one long ass way to say child labor." Miles couldn't help but laugh. "Is your dad one of those.. Capitalist businessmen kinda dudes? Like, the only language he speaks is money?"

He imagines this tall, roundish man donning an iron-pressed suit with a sharp red tie beneath his collar and a stick of burning tobacco between his yellow teeth. Miles pictures, drawing the image and character of your father, him counting dollars while yapping on about you slacking off.

"Oh, no." You scoff. "My dad doesn't care about money."

Money was your father's least concern. In fact, none of you within your household cared about money at all.

"The family business was passed down from.. My granddad to my dad, so what really matters to my dad is.. Preserving the family's reputation."

Now the caricature shifts, from a roundish businessman to a strict and tall Padre De Familia, with a slightly unbuttoned polo shirt and belted shorts— with crossed arms and a permanent arch in his dark brows.

"That sounds.. Honestly, yeah, I see that a lot on my mom's side." Miles grumbled. "My mom's had a few relatives who were really more concerned about how other people viewed them, instead of taking care of what was actually goin' on inside."

Fingers snapping in agreement, "That! That's exactly it." You gleam. "The thing is, my brother, who's actually set to inherit everything, kinda fucked up his job, and it almost ruined us for life."

"How much did he fuck up?"

"... He got scammed."

"Scammed?" You knew how absolutely stupid it must've sounded to Miles, seeing as how he was shaking his head.

"He got scammed off.." You try to think of a reasonable number. "Fifty thousand dollars."

Two million actually, but that would be too much money.

His face still drops. "Oh, shit."

Ironically, you didn’t know what the weight of money was like— so casually slipping out fifty thousand dollars as a loss somewhat made Miles confirm that you were indeed from money.

"And because of that, your father appointed you?"

"I appointed myself." You corrected of him. "I wanted oppurtunities. I wanted to have a path paved for me other than marriage."

"Marriage!?" He looked at you like you'd just opened up a third eye.

"... Well, I mean of course I'll have a career, but I wanted the hote— the-the inn, the catering business." You struggled to discuss. "Since I'm not inheriting it, I would have to pave a path of my own. And the thing is, if I don't start now, I have nothing to begin with when I'm older... If I don't become anything when I'm older, I have no point of living, really."

"... Is that the reason why you didn't wanna admit you like me?"

The straightforward way he asks it snatches you off like the blow of the wind.

"I’m only realizing right now how very career-driven you are, very afraid of failure. I’m starting to think that you probably thought that facing what you feel about me would ruin your future— so you wanted to convince yourself that we're just friends."

Miles' talent for reading you provoked your fear of vulnerability, but this time, you didn't cower.

"... Is it a bad thing?"

"What is?"

Your voice largens into a croak. "Is it a bad thing that I'm too career-driven?"

"…. There's nothing bad about wanting the best for your future. It's safe to say that everybody wants a good future, but," Miles shifts, resting a hand atop your own. "But what's also important is focusing on your present, because once you lose your present, your regret will have you living in the past."

Your eyes fan up to look at him. "... Where'd you get that one from? Philosophy class?"

"… It was from one of the Facebook memes my maw maw sent me when I was twelve."

You snickered. "How convenient.. Somehow, it’s making me think twice about inheriting the damn business.”

"Well.. Other than inheriting your family business, is there anything else you want to achieve in your life?"

"… I’ve always wanted to be a painter.”

You hear him hum.

“… And I want to live far, far away from this place.”

At that moment— a livid pain shoots through your mind.

In a flash, a hazy vision manifests before your eyes, one that glowered in dark, faded blue. A mask of red, black, and white appears before you, its big, white eyes outlined with red furrowing like a frown as it stares. The skies were dim and blue, showering you in the rain. You reach your fingers out to pull off the façade, but your arm grows weak, faltering down to the growing puddle beside you.

“[Y/n]?” Miles’ voice pulls you out of the vision.

“Huh?”

What the fuck was that?

Only then you realized you'd sat up, which was weird as you hardly felt it. You turn to look at Miles, a little confused with all that had just happened. "... I must be getting sleepy." You whispered, running your hand through your face. "I'm starting to hallucinate n shit."

“You can rest here for a bit.” He tucks a strand behind your ear. “I mean— mama’s coming home at 7am.”

You yawn and stretch your neck to the side. “… I have to come back before three hits. I still have class later."

At that moment, Miles admires the way the moonlight prances around your figure, illuminating you like a light.

"... Now that I'm looking at you like this, you look like my mama's favorite actress."

"Which one?" You query, deeming this as praise. Miles steps back a bit, folding his arms before his chest while trying to remember who it was. "I forgot her name, but she was in that movie 'bout that whole Valencia thing. Mama used to watch it all the time. I think she's still got the poster."

"Valencia? The city in Spain?"

"Yeah." Miles fishes out his phone from the pocket of his pants. ".. What was it? Love in Valencia or sum like that."

Oh no.

"Oh, it's Love, Valencia." Scrolling through his screen, Miles spots the actress in the list of cast members and gasps. "Oh, here she is!"

Placing the phone next to your face, Miles is stunned by the comparison— finding similarities in almost every detail. You feel your breath clog your throat, eyes wavering as you turn to look at his screen.

Lo and behold, it was your mother.

Everyone told you and told you, over and over, that you were the spitting image of your mother. You never heard the end of it. You had her pretty face, her beautiful hair, her skin, and this sort of dark charisma she weaponized and abused— a talent you also endowed, but chose not to use.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." You grumbled lowly. "It's kind of fucking annoying."

"Oh," He takes his phone away. "Sorry, then."

Seeing as how quick he was to apologize, you immediately interjected. "No- no, it's annoying when people constantly tease me about it, but I like it as a compliment. I mean, she is pretty famous."

"But in a way, you're still you." Miles smiled. "You might look similar, but you're not her, and in the end, your own face is something completely different and that's what makes you even prettier."

Oh, that sounded so different to most of the compliments you got.

"… I like that. I really like that." You couldn't help but admit.

Shrugging his shoulders, Miles kneels down to pick your wet hoodie off the floor. "I'm gonna put this over the electric fan, and you can get it when it's dryer." As he stands up to leave, you instinctively follow him, fingers grasping the hem of his tank top. With the softest steps you had, you followed the boy to the kitchen.

Eventually, he placed your hoodie over the fan, soon finding your fingers clinging onto his shirt like some lost cat. He holds back a snicker, head traveling to look at you.

“What?”

You let go of him. “Nothin.”

“It don’t look like nothin.” He cocks his head, towering over you. “What is it?”

“… When’s our date?”

“Saturday. I’ll pick you up down the block at five.”

You thoughtlessly nod. “Okay,” You gulp. “Where to, though?”

With a hand over his lips, he hushes. “That’s a surprise.”

And yet even after asking your question, you find yourself following him almost everywhere he went. Miles mused at this, finally deciding to sit by the couch where he drags you by his side.

“[Y/n], what do you want?”

“Ion want nothing!”

“It don’t look like you don’t want nothing.” He grits. “If you want something, use your damn words.”

“I want an essential oil bath bomb.” You laugh, swatting his shoulder. “I’m being for real, Miles, Ion want nothing.”

Miles raised a brow, disbelief written across his pretty face. “It’s called communication, ma. Use those pretty lips of yours for somethin else other than complaining.”

“Oh, I’m the one doing all the complaining?” You snapped. “You know what else these pretty lips can do? Verbal abuse— so—“

“Tsk. There you go again.”

“Don’t go around saying I’m always complaining–“

“Ma, if all you want’s a kiss, I can give you allat.”

And you’re silenced with that alone.

Silenced, but not in the way that Miles thought.

“You don’t need to be all whiny about it, you could j—“

“Whiny?” Your voice deepens, back straightening. You take your knee and place it beside his hip, mounting his lap with a firm grip on his collar. He watches your figure rise above him, head dipping forward.

"I'll fucking show you whiny."

And without another whisper, you crash your lips against his, leaving him without time to breathe. His hands trickle up your waist, beneath your jacket, but never under your shirt. He was too afraid of touching your skin, in a way. Feared he'd disappear into the wind if he ever did, but when your hands pulled him closer and closer, Miles found his own gripping onto your waist, with the other lightly tugging on your hair.

Like in his dream, you nibble at the mauve and paint it with your saliva. Your tongue a little too invasive in the way it dampens his lip.

You're too good at that. Too good at this.

And in his haze, when you two part, a lingering string connects your brims. He heaves, a tiny whine rolling off his tongue with the harsh way you pulled off. "W-wait, I—" He catches his breath, expectantly waiting for the taste of your lips again. But when it doesn't arrive, he looks up expectantly, only to find you licking the corner of your mouth, savoring the taste. He desperately leans in for another, but you grasp his shoulder, forcing him down.

"I have to go home."

#miles morales #42 miles morales #42 miles morales x reader #astv x reader #astv miles #astv x you #astv x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #astv #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #astv fanfic #spiderman astv #spiderman #miles morales 1610 #prowler miles #miles morales x y/n #miles morales prowler #1610 miles x reader

[blooming-violets]

Can I add on to the Suicidal Peter thing? I feel like that would cause so much stress for reader? Like her hair would be going gray and maybe she faints from exhaustion because she's staying up all night making sure Peter wouldn't try to off himself again? Would he notice that she's extra clingy because she's that nervous of him being alone with his thoughts and whatnot? Maybe she wouldn't tell him because she doesn't want him to feel any more guilt that he already has? Sorry if that was alot, just thinking about how that would be for his girlfriend

Trigger Warnings: This is all about suicidal ideation, self harm, and losing yourself to take care of someone who is suicidal. Includes panic attacks, severe weight loss from lack of eating due to anxiety, mentions of blood and cutting, attempted suicide on top of a building. It's a suicide/depression/self harm/broken lovers fic. Be careful if those topics are difficult for you<3

Reminder: This is a depiction of an extremely toxic relationship. It is not cute or healthy or something to strive for. Just, like, as an fyi. Don't do it. Stop. Not healthy. No. Not even for Peter Parker. Don't do it. Stop it right now. Never get on a ledge for a man wtf are you doing.

I think she would be in a state of constant hyper vigilance and high anxiety. He would take over all her thoughts until she can't function anymore. Never eating. Not able to work. Doesn't even want to take a shower because she's afraid of having him out of her sight. Not wanting to sleep.

God forbid she wakes up in middle of the night and he's not in bed, she'd be thrown straight into a panic attack. There's been times when he's woken up to go to the bathroom and returned back to find her hyperventilating on the floor.

Peter dried his wet hands on his boxers as he turned off the sink. His eyes were squinted closed, still half asleep, and he shuffled out of the bathroom. He had no idea what time it was and he didn't care to turn on any bright lights to find the clock. He rubbed his fingers through his shaggy hair and let out a quiet yawn, fumbling with their bedroom door handle to push himself back inside.

A dull flurry of tingles ran up his spine as his hand grasped the knob.

Spider-senses. They weren't super intense or threatening but they let him know that someone was crouched behind the door. He knew it was her and not a threat. His senses always felt dulled down when she was around. His ears perked up to listen to her quiet, muffled sobs.

Peter frowned and gently opened the door so not to accidentally hit her with it.

She was curled up against the wall. Her eyes were wild, the whites flashing back and forth as they scanned the dark room. Tears spilled silently down her face and her body racked with heavy pants. Her teeth bit down on the sleeve of her shirt to keep her cries muffled.

"Baby, what happened?" He asked, quickly kneeling down in front of her. Five minutes ago she was sound asleep beside him.

He scanned her for any external injuries but came up with nothing. He placed his hands against each of her cheeks to get her to look at him. His thumbs brushed the tears from under her eyes.

"You-" she gasped, eyes wide, like she was forcing them to focus on him. "You...you...here...you're here."

Peter nodded. A weight of guilt dropped in his stomach as he realized what she was implying.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm always here. Just went to the bathroom. 's okay. Are you hurt?"

Her chest heaved with each quickened breath but her shoulders stopped shaking the longer she took him in. Her mouthed moved like she was trying speak but no words ever came out. Only more sobs.

He flicked out his wrist to shoot a web against the light switch, tugging it on, so she could see him better.

"See?" He spoke softly, trying to soothe her the best he was able. "Look at me. I'm here."

Fresh tears welled in her eyes and spilled down over his hands. Peter sighed sadly, sliding an arm under her legs and the other behind her back to scoop her up into his arms. He carried her back to the bed. She cradled into his lap and he pressed the side of her ear against his chest so she could hear his heart. He was alive. There was physical proof she could hear.

"I'm here," he continued to reassure her. "I'm not going anywhere."

They both doubted that statement but neither of them dared to challenge it.

He slipped his hand under her shirt to gently scratch her back, humming softly against the side of her head.

Slowly, her breathing regulated. He felt her body melt against him. Her eyes closed.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

She gave a soft nod, mumbling as sleep started to grip her once more, "Nightmare. Nothin' to worry 'bout."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her, feeling her drift off, and knew the nightmare she was talking about wasn't one that happened during sleep.

Some days are better than others. Some days he seems almost normal and she finds herself able to breathe a little easier. But she can never allow herself to fully relax. Relaxing means getting sloppy. Relaxing means she might miss the signs.

The dark circles overtake her eyes. Caking on makeup can only do so much. They still poke through until she eventually just gives up trying to cover them. The whites of her eyes have become a permanent state of bloodshot.

She's losing weight. At first people compliment her for it. They don't know why it's happening. All they see is a loss of weight and think it's purposeful and think they need to praise her for it like it's some great accomplishment. Soon it becomes a clear problem. Food doesn't want to stay down. Her stomach was too filled with anxiety to make room for anything else.

Her friends no longer text her. She never responded anyway. She can't go out. That would be the perfect time for Peter to lose it.

She struggles to keep working. Her job is suffering as a result of her mental state. Too many sick days taken. She's days away from being fired but she doesn't care. All she cares about is Peter. Nothing else matters. Keeping him safe becomes her obsession.

The lack of sleep makes her dizzy.

Peter stared at the television. He couldn't focus on what was playing. His mind was...elsewhere. He dug his nails against the skin of his thumb. It pissed him off that he cut them short earlier in the day. They weren't long enough to scrape against his skin with the force he wanted. He wanted blood. He wanted pain. His nails were giving him nothing but a mild annoyance.

He couldn't get up to find anything sharper when she was curled up beside him. She watched him like a hawk. If he moved, she moved.

His gaze landed on the steak knife thrown against his empty dinner plate still laying out on the coffee table in front of them. Once he caught sight of it, he couldn't see anything else.

He couldn't see that her plate was still full of food beside it, untouched. He couldn't see her eyes glazing out of focus as she stared at the television, equally unable to pay attention to what was in front of her as they "watch" their show. He couldn't see her shaking hands from lack of sleep or proper nutrition. He couldn't see the gauntness to her cheeks or the red tint in her eyes.

All he could see was that knife.

He imagined dragging it across his skin. Slicing it open. Spilling his blood. He imagined cutting it across his palm to mimic the color of Ben's blood on his hands. George's blood. Gwen's blood. He imagined stabbing it into his neck. So fast that she couldn't stop him. In and out. Real quick. Over and done just like that.

"Do you need more water?"

Peter's eyes snapped up to attention as she broke his trance.

"What?" He mumbled.

She nodded to his empty glass of water, "Want me to get you more? You looked like you were staring at it? Thirsty?"

He gave a slow nod, lost in thought. Good. Let her get up. Let her move away. He could grab the knife while she wasn't looking.

She reached for the glass and stood up. He was too focused on the blade to notice how she stopped to sway unsteadily on her feet before walking off to the kitchen.

He heard the glass crash a second before her body hit the floor.

He was up and leaping over the couch a heartbeat after, the knife immediately fading from his mind.

"Babe," he gasped, reaching her in seconds. He gently slapped a hand over her cheek. "Hey! Wake up! Baby, wake up!"

Peter fumbled for the cell phone in his pocket, ready to call an ambulance, when she groaned. He dropped it beside him to tend to her instead.

Her eyes blinked open, hazy and confused, "Wha-"

"It's okay," he breathed through the rising panic. "Try not to move. You fainted. Hit your head."

Oh god, her eyes. Had they always been that sunken in? When did her face start to look so skeletal? He couldn't remember. When had she changed? Was that...

He ran a hand over her hair.

...grey hair?

Sporadic grey strands slipped through his fingers. She looked sickly. She wasn't right.

She lifted an arm to rub her eyes with a muffled moan. A trickle of blood ran down the back of her arm where she had landed on the shattered glass. It painted a trail of red down her skin. His eyes widened at the sight, unable to look away. He tunnel visioned. His sight blackened around the edges as he stared.

Blood. Her blood.

His head twitched. He hurt her. He did this. He made her get up because he wanted that knife. He didn't even more water. He wasn't even thirsty. She was up because of him. She was...broken...fallen...Gwen fell...she broke...he broke them all...dead...all of them...blood...so much blood...always blood...

Her hands were pressed to the side of his head. She was sitting up now. He hadn't even seen her move. Was he-

Crying.

Hot tears streamed down his face. He was sobbing. Gasping. He couldn't remember starting that. Time was slipping through his fingers. He was losing bits and pieces. What year was it? How old was he?

He was sixteen, holding Ben's body.

No, no, no.

Eighteen, Gwen in his arms. Shattered. No.

Twenty...six? eight? Had he turned thirty yet?

Fuck, he couldn't remember.

"It's okay, Peter." She was soothing him. "It's okay. I'm fine. I'm okay. Breathe, Pete. Deep breaths. Stay with me."

He was supposed to be the one taking care of her. What was he doing? What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he stop crying?

She was running her fingers through his hair, pressing her forehead against his, kissing away his tears.

He clung to the front of her shirt, tugging her closer, he couldn't get her close enough. He needed to feel her. He needed to breathe her in, touch her, fuse her through his skin until she melted straight into him forever.

She wasn't dead. It was just a cut. A cut.

She clutched onto his head, pressing his face against her breasts, holding him close. This was the wrong way around. He should be holding her. He was failing. Nothing was working right. Everything was backwards. Everything was wrong. He didn't remember who he was anymore.

"I got you, Peter. I'm okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

She cupped his jaw in her palms to lift his head to hers. She placed soft kisses against his lips. It made his head spin. He wanted her closer but he was afraid if he reached for her, she would crumble away into a fading memory like the rest of them.

As she kissed him, his hand reached out besides him instead, fingers finding a shard of glass and silently slipping into his pocket.

For later.

Just in case.

Peter's stopped being Spider-Man because she asked him to. She's afraid to have him out of her sight. Spider-Man is too dangerous for someone who's suicidal. He can't be trusted. She struggles to breathe when he's not around.

They spend most of their time on the couch "watching" tv. She makes him shower with her. She stays up to watch him sleep, now. When she does doze off, any small movement or sound will jerk her straight awake. Her eyes only ever look for him. She can't see anything else.

At what point does she become an enabler to his behavior? There's being a caregiver and then there's letting someone ruin your life. He's not getting external help because he has her. They're eating each other alive. Sucking the life out of each other. Soon, there will be nothing left to leach off of.

By continuing down this path, it's only a matter of time before she hit rock bottom beside him.

I think that might be the only thing that pushes Peter out of the hole. Because he loves her. He's broken and depressed and a neglectful boyfriend but he does love her. Either they both end up dead or they end up alive. There's only two options here with them because neither of them will ever leave the other. Drag each other down straight to death or lift each other to something brighter.

It had been about an hour since he last saw her. That was unusual. The past five months, she had been his shadow. Attached at his hip. Never out of his sight for more than a minute or two. He dragged himself off the floor where he had been laying. He had bent down to reach for the remote that had fallen off the couch and ended up on the floor without the willpower to get back up. He had just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, letting time pass.

Except too much time had passed because she wasn't here.

Peter sat up, feeling a bit dizzy from the change of pressure in his head, and called out her name. When she didn't answer, he called her again, louder this time. Still nothing.

That worried him.

He jumped to his feet and focused his hearing to listen for her. She wasn't in the apartment. He didn't have to search. He just knew.

His heart began racing. His skin was exploding in tingles. Goosebumps. Anxiety swirled in his stomach. Colors intensified. His hearing dialed up to its full extent. His senses kicked into overdrive.

Trouble.

He hadn't felt his Spider-senses in months. They overwhelmed him and caused him to stumble back against the couch. He had gone so long without feeling anything. Suddenly, there was everything.

He gave a few rapid blinked, trying to focus his eyes and gain back control of his body.

He had to find her.

Peter stumbled out their apartment door, barefoot and sweating profusely, looking wildly up and down the empty hall. He yelled out her name once more. He knew she wouldn't answer but it burst out of him with a longing desperation anyway. He hadn't been away from her for this long in months. He couldn't breathe.

When had she left? Why hadn't he heard her open the door? How far gone had he let himself get that he wouldn't notice her walking out?

He forced his breath to steady as he paused, taking a deep breath, and letting those familiar senses work like they used to.

The roof.

He had to get to the roof.

She was up there. If anyone ever tried to ask how he knew, he wouldn't be able to tell them. He just knew. That's how his senses worked. They told his body where to move and how fast to go and where to be. They told him of danger.

And they were telling him that needed to be on the roof as fast as he could move.

Peter took the stairs two at a time, leaping over railings, and throwing himself up the three flights until he burst through the roof door.

It was snowing outside. When had it become winter? How long had it been since he looked out a fucking window?

His bare feet slipped on a patch of ice but he quickly righted the fall and lunged forward.

She was here. Standing on the raised edge of the building roof. Her hair whipped around her head from the freezing wind. She was in her slippers and pajamas. He hadn't even remembered what she had been wearing until this moment. It was like she had become invisible to him. Always there, always needed, but never truly seen.

He saw her now.

She had gotten so skinny. Almost skeletal. Her body stood on unsteady legs, the wind thrashing her around like she was nothing, and his heart leapt into his throat.

Instinctively, he arm shot out to shoot a web at her back, but nothing came. He had taken off the damn web shooters forever ago. They were lost on some dust filled, cluttered dresser under a pile of clothes. Somewhere completely useless to him.

He shouted her name, pain laced heavily in his voice, running towards her. If she fell before he could catch her, he would throw himself straight off this roof after her.

She turned to look at him.

Jesus, she looked like an entirely different person. Her eyes were dead. Her body might still be hanging on but the life inside of her was gone.

"Dont!" He a broken scream ripped from his throat. "Don't you fucking dare!"

She took a step back, her slipper sliding against the ice, heels hovering over the edge.

"I can't," she whispered, voice getting lost in the howling wind.

Maybe it wasn't the wind. Maybe his own horrified cries.

"I can't do it anymore." She took another shuffled inch back and teetered dangerously on the edge. "I'm sorry."

He reached her the second she stepped off. His hand latched onto her wrist at the last possible moment before it disappeared from view. The weight of her falling body lurched him foreword and he braced himself against the ledge, sticking his feet to the frozen ground as an anchor. He reached his other hand over to scrunch up the front of her shirt, using both her arm and shirt to drag her back up to him.

She didn't fight him. Didn't move. Didn't react.

He dragged her limp body over the hump of the ledge wall and tumbled her into his arms. He fell to the ground, collecting her in his lap, clinging her protectively against him in an iron clad death grip. He chest was heaving. Tears spilled hot down his red, windswept cheeks and blurred his vision. He was struggling to breath. He couldn't catch his breath.

Everything was her. All he could feel. All he could see. He held her close, frantically running his hands over her body, over her face, feeling her, making sure she was really here. It was her. She was here. In his arms. She was alive. She was breathing.

She looked so defeated. Broken. Gone.

"Why?" His voice cracked. "How could you-how-"

Why not?

He had.

She had learned from the best.

It hit him all at once. Clarity. Realization. Everything fell into place the second she stepped off that ledge.

His entire life flashed before his eyes when she fell.

This life they were living...this life was not sustainable. It was his fault.

He had brought them here. He dug the hole and led her straight down to the bottom after him because he was afraid of being alone. He brought her down to his level because he was selfish. Needy. Weak. Afraid. She didn't belong here. He didn't either. If he had his web shooters on like he always used to, he would have reached her before she even knew he was there. He had given up everything in his life. Family, friends, Spider-Man, her.

He given up on everything and almost lost it all.

He had dug this hole for them.

Only he could help them out.

a/n: HI! Of course you can add to it! It makes me so happy that anyone gives a shit to actually contribute and join in on the story telling. I am just very slow at replying sometimes, esp during the days that I work, but I will always get there!

I dipped a toe into exploring the role of caregiver in Nicest Thing too and what it can potentially do to a person. Because I think it can really eat someone alive to be on constant high alert until there is nothing left of them except a shell of who they once were. At some point, you're going to have to chose between losing yourself or potentially losing Peter. He has to be the one to help himself. No one can force someone to get help, they have to make that choice themselves, which is the sad reality of loving someone who's going through shit. And I say that as someone who gone through a lot of shit in their life and had to have people put my ass on suicide watch. Being a caregiver of someone suicidal is a lot of thankless, hard work. If someone doesn't want help, they'll find ways to weasel around everything you to hit them with, until they're ready to do it themselves. So, keep yourself sane and healthy.

I'd like to think that after this, he helps them both. He helps her by getting better himself. Since she followed him into the hole, I think she would follow him out. Slowly. But seeing him put in the effort would give her the strength to do it herself.

Go listen to Don't Try Suicide by Queen and don't fucking kill yourself, okay? Great? Great! xoxo Katie

#andrew garfield #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm x reader #tasm fic #tasm angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker angst #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter fic #tasm peter angst #tasm peter parker x reader

[marvelobsessed134]

oh please do a part 3 of sneaking around

Where Tommy starts to catch on

Finding his daughter's clothing in Nikki's truck when him and Nikki go to town to get food

And then a few weeks later the crüe are having a concert in LA

Tommy's daughter and Nikki hook up again backstage in Nikki's dressing room

She gives him a bj for the first time and he eats her out before bending her over fucking her and just as he cums inside her

Tommy walks in the dressing room catching them. He's like WTF bro that's my daughter I'm going to kick your ass

Nikki takes off running butt naked down the hallway backstage Tommy not far behind after him 😂

Sneaking around part three: final part

Pairings: current!Nikki Sixx x fem!reader, current!Tommy Lee x fem!daughter!reader

A/n: last part of this little series. Read part one here and part two here

Warnings: brief smut, age gap, protective dad Tommy, chaotic as hell, kinda crack fic? Wholesome father-daughter moment in the end.

So far your father has not found out about the passionate love affair you have with his best friend and band mate.

Or so you thought.

Without you or Nikki knowing (obviously), Tommy found your panties in Nikki’s truck. He had starts to catch on. But he was also in a state of disbelief and decided to wait and see if the two of you were really fucking.

And then Motley had a show in LA and of course you were there. And of course you were in Nikki’s dressing room sucking him off.

“Ah fuck, such a good girl. Good little cocksucker.” He groaned as he watched you bob your head up and down along his shaft.

“Shit! Gonna cum!” The bassist hissed. And just when he sent his release down your throat your father walked in.

Your eyes widened and stood up immediately running to the corner of the room as if that was going to do anything.

“What the fuck? I knew it. I fucking knew it! I knew you were fucking my daughter behind my back!” Your dad was pissed.

Nikki tried to explain the situation as best he could but as Tommy started to walk towards him to-presumably-fight, the other older man ran out the door butt naked. Now in any other situation you’d be laughing your ass off but right now it wasn’t so funny. Tommy ran after him after pointing at you and said, “You and I are gonna talk about this later.”

You stood there, cheeks flushed from embarrassment. It was only a couple minutes before Nikki came back in the room you literally had no idea what happened.

He put his stage gear back on and walked up to you, “Don’t worry I didn’t kill him.” And you laughed a bit.

“I am so confused. What just happened?” You asked.

“I can say the same. But I think he’s calmed down now since Brittany pulled him in the dressing room to talk some sense into him.”

“I know she knew about us but she never said anything and was silently supportive. Hopefully she’ll be able to make him see our side.”

“Hopefully.”

After the show you were alone in the dressing room since Nikki was talking to the venue owners when your dad came in.

You turned around quickly with wide eyes and he put his hands up in defense.

“Hey, I’m only wanting to talk.” The drummer explained and you calmed a bit.

The two of you sat down on the couch and he let you explain what was going on. And you reminded him that you’re an adult now and can make your own decisions and that he’s a hypocrite because he’s definitely fucked some of his friends 19 year old daughters before he met your step mom.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “If he makes you happy then…I guess I don’t have any say in it. And if I say not to hook up with him you’re gonna do it anyway aren’t you?”

You gave a sly chuckle, “You know it dad.”

“If he hurts you let me know so I can beat his ass. Now come here.” He opened his arms up and you hugged him tightly.

“I love you Y/n.”

“I love you too dad.”

#motley crue #motley crue x reader #tommy lee #nikki sixx #fanfic #vince neil #mick mars #smut #current nikki sixx x reader #current tommy lee x reader #nikki sixx x reader #tommy lee x reader

[luvmyoui]

six - out

previous masterlist next

gp!myoui mina x fem!reader

warnings: cursing

word count: 1,732

a/n: GUYS IM SORRY, I MEANT TO POST THIS EARLIER BUT I LOST TRACK OF TIME PLS FORGIVE ME😞😞

the constant buzzing of your phone roused you from your slumber, you tried to ignore it but the buzzing hadn’t gone away like it usually would. with a huff you sat up and received the call without checking the caller. 

“what?!” you said annoyance clear in your tone.

“check twitter, right now!” camila’s stressed out voice exclaimed from the other end of the phone. 

“okay, okay, gosh what terrible thing happen-” you fell silent when the twitter app loaded on and displayed a linked article stating a question along with a picture. 

SIXTH HARMONY’S Y/N L/N HAS A DAUGHTER? 

the article went on to explain how an anonymous source had sent a picture of the ‘happy birthday isla’ banner that hung behind you, you were squatted on the floor with isla’s cheek squished into yours. seeing the picture you immediately recognized it as one that was definitely taken the day before. you could only curse yourself for letting that man help bring that package into your home and forgetting to close the door. apparently there had been paparazzi waiting outside of your house and took pictures of the decorations while your door was open. 

“y/n? you good?” camila's worried voice pulled you out of your regretful thoughts. 

“y-yeah, just shocked. the thought of this happening never even crossed my mind.” you said, still in disbelief that this could’ve happened. 

“look at the comments though, we can go along with them and lie.” hearing this, with curiosity you scrolled down to see the replies to the tweet. 

REPLIES: 

sixtharmony4ever: why can't you people just mind your own business omg, leave my girls alone!!!

camilasolostan: wtf??? was y/n a teen mom?! iloveyn: so what if she was, its her life not yours.

laurenmll: why are you idiots acting like she can't have nieces😭😭 user872349: are you stupid, she doesn't have any siblings💀💀 laurenmll: are you? you're acting like she cant have any cousins☠️ laursss: girl lets be real, thats 100% y/ns kid camziezz: literally, cuzns arent twins💀💀

sixthharmonizerrr: these paparazzis seriously need to get a life and let celebs live theirs.

twice4lifee: guys why does that baby look exactly like mina😰😰minaluvzme: IM SAYINN once4ever: NEW SHIP???

minariii: *image attached* cannot tell me they are not the same person, literally give that kid a haircut and its mina.

lovey/nnn: why does the baby look like that one girl from that kpop group?!

harmonizeronce: does mina have a secret brother? twcmina: she literally said in multiple interviews she was an only child. harmonizeronce: thats why i said secret smartass.

seeing people defending you brought a smile to your face, you loved your fans. though you couldn't help the anxiety creep up your spine, what if they found out about mina. rather than worrying for yourself, you worried for mina, it might break her career if it's found out that she has a kid. you knew that the kpop industry was much less forgiving when it came to things like this. feeling another buzz in your hand caused you to look at the incoming call from your manager larry. 

“mila, larry’s calling so i’ll hang up now okay?” hearing a ‘kay’ from camila you hung up and accepted the call from your manager. 

“deny having a kid, say it was your cousins or something and that you hang out with her kid alot. I honestly don't care what you say, just make sure no one knows that it's your kid.” he said as soon as you had accepted the call

“and if i don't want to?” 

“that’s not an option.” he stated. 

“I'm not going to deny my kid, can I just stay quiet? i won't ever deny that isla’s my daughter, i'm not and never will be ashamed of her. sure i had her young but i don't regret it at all.” you responded with finality in your voice. maybe this was a stupid decision, but one parent had already left isla and you refused to disown her by saying she wasn't yours.  

letting out a sigh, knowing nothing he said would change your decision, your manager let out a fine and hung up the call. you let yourself fall back into your bed and just laid there hands and legs sprawled out. hearing the creak of your door opening made you lift your head a bit to see isla standing there. she ran over to your bed, when she reached it she proceeded to lift one of her legs up trying to get onto the bed. you smiled down at how cute she looked, stopping her struggles, you sat up and pulled her onto the bed next to you. with her small hands she pushed you down onto your back and jumped onto you, cuddling her face into your neck. 

“when will i get to see mommy, i only see hew in pictuws.” isla said into your neck, she was very clearly distressed, and you could only think of the day before when she had questioned mina’s want to even see her. 

you honestly didn't even think mina wanted to see her, sure she sent gifts but you doubt she’d want to see isla. she always thought of the child as a burden, as something that you were supposed to care for. the thought brought a frown to your face, you wished for mina to see isla and acknowledge her as a daughter. 

chaos had ensued in the twice dorms, although mina only shared a dorm with nayeon, all the girls were currently at the dorms. as soon as they had seen the tweet they rushed over, hoping that it wasn't as they thought. 

“so what, you just left her alone with a kid?!” jeongyeon exclaimed, clearly upset at the mere idea. 

“uh- well it wasn't like that, i wanted to pursue my dream and she was holding me back. also i send them money and gifts and pay for the apartment, i’m fulfilling my role as a parent.” hearing this, all of the girls continued their attack, throwing objects at mina. she tried to dodge but there were too many coming and too fast. 

“god i knew you were a douche judging by the amount of girls you bring home, but this is just unbelievable.” momo said, followed by a shoe being thrown at mina’s head. 

“you guys are unbelievable, i'm your member, not her. plus, are you forgetting the part where i literally send gifts, money, and pay the bills?! also she didn't want me to follow my dream!” mina exclaimed, why couldn't they understand her side?

“yeah, and are you forgetting the part where you got her pregnant. whatever she says doesn't matter, as the person who got her pregnant you should have taken responsibility.” jihyo voiced out, clearly annoyed by her excuses.

“I do take responsibility! how many times do i need to say that i give them money, i spoil them incredibly!” mina cried out in exasperation, how many times did she have to say it for them to understand?

the yelling and throwing of things was stopped the moment the door to the dorm opened, their manager walking in. “mina, there better be a good explanation for this.” their manager said, glaring at mina. 

“uhm- there really isn't one, it’s exactly how it seems.” 

“how do you even know y/n?!” their manager exclaimed, not being able to wrap her mind around this situation.

“we uh- we were high school sweethearts, we dated throughout almost the entirety of highschool.”

“what?!” everyone exclaimed, not knowing that they were in that serious of a relationship. 

“wait, so do you know any other celebrities?” chaeyoung asked in disbelief, she had been a fan of the group's music for a while and couldn't believe mina knew them.

“uh- yeah, shawn mendes, he was my best friend since middle school and camila, but she was y/n’s best friend. and i mean camila never really liked me.” 

“you knew shawn mendes?!” chaeyoung exclaimed, being best friends with shawn mendes was insane to her. 

“yeah, i still talk to him from time to time too.” mina said, scratching the back of her head as she explained. 

“mina, i hope you know that we will be going to the US for the billboard women in music awards. and sixth harmony will for sure be there.” their manager said to mina.

“what!?” mina exclaimed, the thought that she might run into you again was now starting to eat away at her. she didn't want to see you, but at the same time she wanted so desperately to. 

“oh yeah, i was gonna tell you.” jihyo said, everyone surprised that mina didn't know. 

everyone had left by now, and it was only mina, nayeon, and the two beer bottles on the coffee table in front of them. mina usually didn't drink, her intolerance for alcoholic drinks being the reason, but after today she just needed a drink. 

“what do you think? do you agree with everyone else, you think i'm an asshole?” mina asked, not offended but wanting a genuine answer.

“I mean what you did was very assholey, but i mean it’s never too late to change you know? i mean i’ve lived with you for like how long? three, four years? and i mean i think i know you best, and i can say with confidence you’ve had at least a little character development.” nayeon said, taking a swig of her beer. 

“but what do i do? I feel like what me and y/n had is broken by now. I don't think she’d even want me to meet isla.” mina said, she would never dare say her true thoughts. and i mean, could you blame her? 

all she knew about this kid was that she was 3 years old and that it was hers. she didn't even know what isla looked like until she saw the picture on twitter. she felt terrible for even thinking it, but she didn't really care all that much for this kid. you on the other hand, she had known you for a long time, she loved you, she had a kid with you. she didn't regret pursuing her dream but she wished it didn’t include losing you. 

“just talk to her, when we meet her. try to just talk it all out.” 

taglist: @moon-ellie @lisas-earlobe @cocojy @second-daughter-of-clexa @runassimp@eliii1sblog @yvsvrn send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

#i'll know #g!p #gp!mina #mina x fem!reader #mina x reader #myoui mina x reader #twice #gxg #girl group #kpop #myoui mina #yoo jeongyeon #im nayeon #son chaeyoung #camila cabello #shawn mendes #written series #girl group x reader #girlgroup x fem!reader #kpop gg #kpop x reader #luvmyoui

[jaeyunniesimp]

your first kiss with them ~ enhypen as love tropes! (hyung line)

tw: mentions of alcohol, and i think that’s it (?)

wc: 1.1k

have fun, love you guys!

maknae line version

heeseung (brother’s best friend!): your brother’s friends never really caught your eye in a positive way. let’s face it, men will be men, always loud and somewhat disgusting, specially seniors. but when your brother befriended heeseung, you couldn’t stop staring at the boy.

he started bringing him home after school often, to “study” (play video games) and “read” (talk about girls). he was the only friend of your brother’s your mother genuinely liked, besides jake, and you seemed to agree more and more with her. you couldn’t help but notice, though, the way his gaze would linger on you, how he’d go get water in the kitchen at the same time you would, just to get some alone time with you, even if it’s silent.

but, at your brother’s birthday party, a couple shots in, you had literally nothing nor anyone holding you back. heeseung had rejected all the girls that approached him that night, and that made you a little nervous, but alcohol was in to save you! there you were in the kitchen again, trying to pour yourself another drink “you should have some water” he said, putting his hand on top of yours, stopping you from turning the bottle on your cup, flashing you a sweet smile.

your cheeks started to heat up, at that point you were blushing everywhere, really looking like a red avatar. “you shouldn’t worry about me, i’m fine” you shook off, putting the bottle back down. “of course i should, i’ve been waiting all night to kiss you, i can’t do it if you’re drunk” he stated bluntly, red avatar mode was def full on.

you looked up at him, doe eyed (which he thought was the cutest thing btw), and in no time his lips were connected to yours, hands cupping your cheeks sweetly, pulling you closer every second. just pray your brother never finds out 🤞

jay (fake boyfriend!): when you pitched the idea to jay, he was at first skeptical. pretending to date just so you could go to your sister’s wedding and prove your mother wrong? he thought you were maybe going a little too far, but agreed to do it anyway.

when he saw you all dressed up, hair done, he couldn’t help but smile. you both got there and you took his hand in yours, making him blush instantly. “don’t be so weird about it, this has to look believable” you whispered to him through gritted teeth.

the rest of the evening went by just fine, everyone complimenting how good you two looked together, until your mother insisted you both slowed danced together like all the other couples. your hands were glued to each other’s all day, but not your bodies.

to say you were nervous was an understatement. he just looked so good, and was so close to you, his lips almost hovering over yours. “i wish we could be like this more often” he stated out of the blue, making your cheeks heat up. “me too” you answered. his grip on your waist became a little tighter as he pulled you in for a kiss. his lips felt like everything you’ve ever needed: soft, sweet, comforting. he was definitely not someone you wanted to just “fake” date.

jake (best friends to lovers!): you were surely the best of friends. jake was your ride or die and you were his, but anyone could tell that there were unspoken feelings between the two of you (i mean the sexual tension is insane wtf). he could be just doing anything, sitting down in silence, singing, talking, playing games, and your eyes would instantly fall to his beautiful, plump, heart shaped lips </3 and he obviously always thought you were beautiful, but never imagined you thought of him in that way.

if he didn’t value your friendship so much, he would’ve certainly made a move already. but tonight, there was just something about you, he couldn’t keep it together anymore. you were having a sleepover at your place after a night out, you still had your makeup on, your hair was already messy, and you were still wearing his coat he landed you on the way to your house. let’s just say you were a sight for sore eyes <3

“you look really pretty” he blurted out, out of nowhere. you looked at him, confused and surprised at the same time. “thanks…” you flashed him a shy smile. he suddenly started moving closer to you, letting his hands fall to the sides of your body, holding your waist, under his coat, ever so lightly, like it was natural. he then leaned in a little closer, connecting your foreheads “if you don’t tell me to stop, i don’t think i’ll be able to”. that’s when you pulled him closer and attached both your lips, giving him a long, soft, chaste kiss. he pulled back, out of air, and flashed you that sweet, beautiful smile of his <3

sunghoon (enemies to lovers!): you definitely hated park sunghoon, the way his witty ass would always find a way to humiliate, outshine, or annoy you. but there was no denying how beautiful he looked, and he couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t think the same about you.

everyone was already sick and tired of the bickering between the two of you, so the master plan to lock the both of you up in a room alone was put in action. your friends would leave you there just until things got quiet, assuming you could endure each other’s presence.

after what felt like hours of fighting and arguing, you couldn’t take it anymore. your eyes were glossy from the tears that were starting to form and your voice was shaky. “stop! please, i’m begging you! why do you even hate me so much?” you managed to blurt out, after pushing him lightly on the chest.

he was definitely speechless. he never hated you, quite the opposite. he was just so heartbroken that you decided to go out with jake in middle school and never even looked at him, he started picking on you and being passive aggressive towards you unconsciously, maybe as a way of getting you to notice him. not in the way he wished for though.

his look softened at the sight of you crying, and he got closer to you, cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears away. “i don’t hate you, y/n. god, i wish i did” you were surely shocked at his statement, your tears suddenly stopping to fall, gaze locked on his. “i just like you too much, but you never seem to notice me”

you instinctively slid your hands to the back of his neck, tugging on his hair lightly “how could i not notice you?” you answered, flashing him a weak smile. he pulled you in for a much awaited kiss, filled with passion and hunger, which made you crave him more and more each second, the room so quiet for so long, your friends thought you probably murdered each other by now <3

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #kpop #enhypen texts #kpop imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #sim jaeyun #sim jake #yang jungwon #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #ni ki enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #love tropes #enhypen soft thoughts

[justanamesstuff]

All I Need

Chapter 5

Matty Healy!dad x f!reader

A/N: Okay so here is chapter 5…I hope you like it, guys!! Tell me what you think..whatever that is!!

Warnings: there’s a +18 part so minors please do not interact!!; swearing; paining; typos.

Word count: 6.2 K!!!!!!!!!!!! (Wtf)

MASTERLIST

Saturday Morning

Gracie: Bitch! Are you awake?

Y/n rolled her eyes at the text popping up on the top of her screen. She had been scrolling through Instagram for almost half an hour. She was enjoying the quiet morning. Amelia was still asleep and thought there was no harm in letting her sleep the morning away. 

Either way, she wouldn’t make her way down the stairs, scared that Matty was awake and ready to talk. He had hurt her with his words deeply. So, she wasn’t prepared to speak with him.

 During the date with Paul, she felt fine, distracted even. But, as soon as she pulled the main door open, everything went back to the front of her mind. The meanings behind his words, how angry he was at her. 

Hypocrite. 

Y/n shook her head and focused on replying to Grace’s message.

Y/n: Yes, bitch. What do you want now? 🙄

Gracie: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? I WANT ALL THE DETAILS!!

Y/n smiled at her excitement. 

Gracie: I have some tea to spill too…just for you…

She frowned at the screen, worried about what Gracie would reply with.

Y/n: What do you mean?

Gracie: the rat and I had an interesting chat. I’LL TELL U ONLY WITH THE CONDITION that you tell me everything about Paul.

She giggles at Grace again, calling Matty a rat even though he has repeatedly told her to cut it out, claiming it's no longer funny.

 A chat? What on earth could they talk about? 

Y/n thought, unable to imagine them speaking to each other in a passive-aggressive manner when she wasn’t there to buffer.

Y/n: Fineee. I’m still in bed. Come here.

Gracie: Yay!

Y/n: Grace?

Gracie: yeah? 

Y/n: Try really hard….and I mean it…not to make a single sound. I can’t face Matty just yet.

Gracie: ydm? 

Y/n: I’ll explain it to you, just don’t fuck it.

Gracie: okay 👀👀

Y/n was holding her breath, waiting for her friend to fuck up everything. That she would wake Matty and Amelia in the process. She closed her eyes, almost as a prayer. 

Grace appeared at her door, opening and closing it in a heartbeat. She manoeuvred around on her tiptoes, making her way to Y/n's bed until they were both situated on the hardboard of the queen size bed. Y/n left her phone on her bedside table.

“So…” Grace trailed off, tilting her head.

“It was good…nice.” Y/n felt tired, although the day had barely begun.

Grace visibly cringed at her answer. “That bad?”

“No, no…he was pleasant, sweet, wonderful, really. He brought me flowers.” Grace was holding into every detail as if her life depended on it. “I forgot them in his-”

“Did he kiss you, or did you kiss him?” Grace shouted. As a result, gaining a big and exaggerated shush from Y/n. 

“Shut up, you idiot!” Y/n silently shouted at her.

“Sorry, sorry…go on.” Grace whispered before covering her mouth with her hands. She was an adult with a soul of a child.

“We did not kiss.” Y/n shared with her best friend, making sure to accentuate every syllable.

She leaned all her weight on the bed, whining like a little girl.

“Why?” Her best friend asked, sounding puzzled.

“I don’t know, Grace. He walked me to the door, and I thought he was going to…then he didn’t. He just kissed my cheek.” Y/n admitted to herself that she was in fact slightly disappointed.

“Lame.” Grace stated, making Y/n screamed with laughter.

“It was hot in the moment, not going to lie.” she admitted,

“And dinner?” Grace cheered up with excitement again.

Y/n tried to hide her small smirk as she played with the thread sticking out from the bedsheets. “It was nice.”

“Shit.” Grace gasped.

“What?” Y/n questioned and immediately pulled her attention to Grace’s face.

“What’s wrong with him?” 

Y/n was just confused, “Nothing?” 

“Y/n…”

Y/n shoulders shrugged, feeling conflicted. “I don’t know, okay? He’s handsome, thoughtful…Truly a Prince Charming”

“Not you quoting the rat’s words.” Grace rolled her eyes at Y/n’s exact words that Matty said Friday night.

“Come on, he does look like Prince Charming. Admit it!” Y/n encourage Grace smiling wide.

Grace stopped for a minute to really think about it. She wasn’t really interested in that debate. Grace felt the need to go one step further. “Image I…hypothetically..say, I agree. Don’t you want prince charming?”

Which tool Y/n by surprise. “I don’t know…” her momentary happiness washing away.

Grace felt bad, and proceed to light the mood. “No, right…you want Ratty Healy.” Y/n bursted into a fit of laughter. When her friend calmed down, she picked up the conversation. “Are you going to see Paul again?”

“He implied it yesterday. After the date, he texted me about the flowers.” Y/n felt the impulse to take her phone, just to distract her mind for a minute at least. 

“Nice ones?” Grace was a big nerd for flowers. Y/n secretly found that adorable. 

“Expensive ones.” she bobbed her head, answering the question silently as well.

“Colour?”

Many years around Grace’s hobby gave Y/n enough knowledge about a big variety of flowers; including the little fact that consciously or subconsciously people send messages with them. Yellow was not attached to love or romantic. It was a difficult colour, even though people tend to think it was cheerful and nice, when they weren’t entirely. 

“Don’t start.” Y/n warned her. Gaining some time because she knew Grace was going to know about the colour even faster than her.

“Girl, messages are all around!” Grace clicked in the air with her fingers, insisting on her statement. “Colour?” She repeated.

“Yellow.” Y/n said focused on Grace’s side profile. She saw the crinkle in her eyes as recognition reached Grace’s head. Not good.

Grace tried hard not to express her thoughts because she did want her cousin and friend to continue going out “Mhm…”

“What?” Y/n faked not knowing.

“Not going to say it!” Grace lifted her arms in defence. 

“Fine, I don’t care.”

“Okay.”

The silence came between them. Y/n’s mind couldn’t stop thinking about Matty and Grace's conversation. She didn’t want to ask. 

“Come on. I know you’re dying to know…” Grace exposed her, annoyed. Sometimes her best friend can read her mind, as if they share a part of it.

“No.” Y/n desisted. 

Grace decided to enjoy teasing her a little. At the end, she was going to crack and tell Y/n everything, although she still wanted to have fun with it. “Okay.”

“You’re so annoying!” Y/n brook her composure.

Grace mocked her for it. “So annoying that I have the information you’re dying to know.” 

Silence.

Grace had been thinking about Matty’s sayings more than she wanted to accept. It was easy to hate the rat without knowing his side of the story. Even after talking, Grace was sure he didn’t give her the full version, although he indeed shared a part with Y/n’s friend the night before. “He mopped all night about your fight.” let out finally.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. “That’s the tea?” Grace snorted, she wasn’t buying it.

“Part of…”

 “Sure.” 

‘She’s so obvious’, Grace thought rolling her eyes inside her head.

“Drop it…” Grace warned Y/n. “I was pointing out for him how shit he looked.” as her friend started sharing, Y/n rolled her eyes. “I knew he was thinking about you guys fighting. I told him he was being unfair to you-”

Fucking hell. “Grace!”

“What? It’s the truth!” Grace turned around, shrinking her shoulders as a physical defence.

Y/n’s mind raced, with thoughts. “Oh my god!”

“He tried to make me believe he hasn’t fucked anyone since you guys conceived Amelia.” Y/n hide her face behind her hands at the mere image of Matty’s reaction to that. She did want to murder -metaphorically- Grace. “I told him we were on the internet. Saw the videos and pictures.” Y/n threw the blanket around her head. “No, no…he was focused on you saying anything about those.” 

“Did you just threw me under the bus , huh?” Y/n voiced came muffled by the piece of fabric.

“Never” Crossed her heart as they did back in primary school. She continued, “Then he was all about Paul.” 

Y/n spied from her hiding spot. “Saying what exactly?” she inquired, fearing the answer with her heart beating fast inside her chest.

“If I thought Paul was suitable for you…” 

Y/n interrupted her quick, sitting down fully. “And you said?”

“I told him my opinion.” Grace hesitated as she did the night before with Matty. She was the most transparent person in the world. Y/n tremble a little.

“Which was?”

“Yes, he’s suitable for her.” Grace repeat her answer with the same tone she would say the shopping list, without any bit of conviction or emotion. Matty wasn’t an imbecile.

Y/n knew Matty enough to accurately state, “He didn’t believe you.”

Grace contradict her beliefs, “Course not. He’s an idiotic!” Y/n snorted.  “You know what? He was acting so strange, Y/n. I can’t say what it was, but I have never seen him like…that.” She talked with every bit of intensity, her previous answers hadn’t had.

Grace couldn’t believe she was feeling sorry for Matty. She was in fact feeling compassion for him.

“In what sense?” Y/n chewed her lips, anxiously. 

Grace weight her ideas for a moment. “He was troubled.”

“Mhm…” Y/n was out of answers. Her mind was spiralling around Matty, Paul, and the mess she let herself into.

“We ended the chat with him saying that he wanted you happy…and I said, then let her be.” Grace confessed.

Y/n felt a wave of sadness and regret washing over her body. She was still mad with him, although his confession to Grace warmed her heart, breaking the wrath. “I had to wake him up when I came back from the date. He was plastered on the couch, downstairs. He tried to talk about the fight. I ran upstairs.” Y/n cringed.

“Very mature!” Grace tried to joke. Watching Y/n troubled was a sight she tried really hard not to witness it, if she could do something to prevent it.

Y/n rubbed her face with annoyance. “I know. I just couldn’t do it last nigh…heck, I don’t want to face him now.” 

Grace hugged her, trying to show her support.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday

Matty walked, with Amelia in his arms, around the park near the family house. Spring was coming and Amelia was clearly excited about the flowers blooming. She pointed out everywhere, bubbling things Matty pretended to understand.

He kissed the top of her head. His baby was getting so big, the thought excited and terrified the singer equally. Matty tried not to think about it and enjoy the daughter and daddy time.

When they were making their way back, because it was almost Amelia’s nap time, Matty spotted a new shop. A flower shop. An idea popped into his head.

Y/n had been avoiding him. When Grace left the night before, he tried to push her to speak with him. In fact, he was aware that Grace was still around because Y/n used her as a shield. Matty let her. 

He wanted to have the conversation without forcing her. Also, he knew he deserved the cold shoulder treatment. On Friday night, after his walk of shame, he stayed in bed regretting his choice of words. Matty tried to put himself in Y/n’s shoes, understanding how way out of place his infant accusations were. 

Amelia clapped loud when they approached the shop, took his dad out of daydreaming. 

A lot of buckets were outside, decorating the front. Fresh flowers. Matty let her come down. Amelia stumbled a little as she approached the containers. 

“Oh, oh…” she exclaimed excited. 

Matty saw her sniff using all the muscles on her little face. He couldn’t retain his smile, and the urge to capture his little girl being cute. 

“Should we bring mommy a bunch?” he asked, keeping his phone in the pocket of his trousers. She looked up at her father with wide brown eyes. 

‘Same sweet ones as Y/n.’, Matty though. 

“Let’s go then!” He took the baby up, entering the big shop.

After a short -still- nice conversation with the old lady running the place, he opted for a bouquet of white gardenias. The woman smiled at his choice, Matty brushed it off as nothing. 

Once again on the way home, Matty instructed Amelia to hold them while they walk. “I think mommy’s gonna like them” he said excitedly.

Amelia chuckled, looking only at the pretty flowers glutted to her face. “Mmm” she exclaimed as an answer. Matty laughed again at her silliness. She was still really little in age, although her personality was growing faster.

He never brought flowers for Y/n, the thought came out of nowhere. Matty didn’t know why. That day though, it was like an offer’s peace, a plea to be back to just be friends again. At least friends. 

Y/n was a massive part of Matty’s life; she was the reason Amelia was at that moment inside his arms, he was grateful to the universe for crossing their paths. He regretted every word he said, once more, and he acknowledged, the worst part was hurting her. He wanted to make peace, not war.

Matty struggled to open the door, his hands always full when he needed to unlock it. Nevertheless, he managed to succeed before Amelia started calling Y/n.

“Mommy, mommy!” she shouted repeatedly, startling Matty. 

Why toddlers liked to repeat things so many times?, he wondered. Trying to keep his heart rating low and his mind distracted, failing miserably.

Amelia wiggled inside his arms. She was getting more active every day and something it was hard to keep up with her. Matty left her on the floor again. Finally secure on her feet, she ran away leaving him behind.

“Amelia, be careful, baby!” he followed his child with fear she might fall and get hurt.

“Where is my buba?” Y/n exclaimed from the kitchen table.

Amelia cried with excitement. “Mommy, mommy!” 

“Hi, sweet cheeks!” Y/n said once her eyes fell on her daughter. “Whatcha have there?” Y/n smiled wide, coming to her height. Amelia tried to explain in her little incomprehensible language, extending the bouquet. 

“We thought it was a nice gift.” Matty made himself known. Y/n looked up while she held Amelia with one arm, and her hand reached for the flowers. 

“Yeah?” Y/n was out of words. Matty looked especially sweet and cuddly; while the flowers brought tears to her eyes. “That’s really thoughtful from you two.” she said directly to Amelia, kissing her cheeks. 

Y/n couldn’t look at Matty.

“It took us a minute because a little lady…” Matty sat down on the kitchen floor in front of them, tickling Amelia, making her cackled loud.  “Wanted to smell every single bunch.” Matty shared with Y/n, making her smile. 

“Did you take a picture of her?” Y/n looked at him for the first time in days. Her heart warm looking at the hazel brown orbs. 

“One? I took a thousand!” they laughed together. 

Y/n acknowledged Amelia’s excitement dropping, she started to rub her little eye. “Well, I’m going to get a base for this…and you, my little dove…” Y/n blew a raspberry on Amelia’s cheek without getting a big reaction. “Have to go and have your nap, or you’re going to get grumpy.”

“Come on!” Matty extended his arms and Amelia didn’t hesitate. 

The grown-ups stood up. Matty turned around, directing himself and the girl on his arms towards the hall. Meanwhile, Y/n started to open the cupboards. 

Matty stopped, still cradling Amelia. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” she went to the hall, making herself visible for him.

“What about we sit outside while this one naps?” Matty offered, hoping for Y/n’s answer.

“Okay” she was well aware of his intentions. She knew they had to talk. “Do you want coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please. I’ll be right back.” 

Without more interactions, Matty rushed up and Y/n tried to keep herself calm while searching for something to put the white flowers in. 

White gardenias.

Y/n wondered if he knew the meaning behind them.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matty found the kitchen area empty. The sliding door was open just a crack to informed him that someone had gone outside. 

He opened it enough so his body could go through. Y/n was seated on the back patio, on the long couch outside. Two mugs were steaming on the table. 

Matty admired her for a minute. Y/n was deep in thought, her phone beside the brewings.

“It’s really nice today.” Matty cut the silence while he approached her.

“Yeah…” she admitted, feeling the couch sinking under Matty’s weight. Y/n didn’t turn to look at him. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she felt he was close. 

Matty ran a hand through his curls. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing, really.” her sight still lingering on the view between the side of their's house and the neighbour's house. The sun was peaking throw, touching her face in a warm caress.

“Mhm…Y/n?” he asked so low that if they weren’t sitting as close as they were, she would have not heard him.

“Matty?” she replied with the same tone. Her heart biting like the gallop of a horse inside her rib cage. Y/n feared he might listen. 

Matty played with his curls, anxiously. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean any word the other night.” She kept her silence. Waiting. She wanted him to continue. “I was sleep-deprived and so stressed. Someone is suing us- it doesn’t matter, but was angry and tired, and I took it all on you.” he admitted. “It wasn’t right, wasn’t fair…it’s such a cliché, you’re truly the best mother. I mean it. Amelia, and I, are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

“You really hurt me, Matt.” Y/n dared to look at his sad eyes—the bags under his light brown eyes shaped in a dark colour. She wanted to soothe them somehow.

Matty scratched the back of his head. “I know. I’m a moron.” She laughed.

“You’re not!” Y/n contradicted him.

“I am! You’re just sweet...” his voice sounding warmer. Y/n looked directed to his orbs. He was so pretty. 

She shook her head, tore her sight from his face. “Shut up.” Y/n blushed, repeating the words inside her mind. Trying to get rid of second meanings behind them.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Letting the sun bathe them while both enjoyed the company of one another.

“Matty-” Y/n was the first one to break the silence. 

He appreciated her factions. “Yeah?”

Y/n’s heart prevailed over her rational brain. “Your outburst was only because you were angry about work?” She dread herself for asking him exactly that.

Matty was taken aback by her innocent question. 

The singer hesitate. He could just say the truth and everything would change. There lies the problem. Everything could change for the worst. Matty’s frighten brain took over, answering. “Yes. Work is taking a toll on me.”

Y/n scolded herself for even think about the possibility of him having second intentions. She didn’t learn. 

 “How was your date?” Matty tried to redirect the conversation after a pause. 

Y/n review the conversation she had with Grace. The answers were still the same as yesterday. “Nice.”

“That bad?” he turned his body towards her, placing his arms behind Y/n’s head. She didn’t flinch. 

“Why do you and Grace say that?” Y/n whined, staring at him again. They were closer than before, she noticed.

Matty laughed out loud. “Because we’re friends now..” he wiggled his eyes. 

“Yeah, I heard.”

“That little snitch!” he faked being angry. He knew Grace was going to talk with Y/n about their's conversation. “So, Prince Charming…”

“I’m not doing this with you, Matty.” Y/n moved forward, closer to the edge of the couch, ready to stand up.

Matty was quick answering, keeping her in place. “Why not?” he frowned. Y/n loved when he did that, it wasn’t the nicest expression, although she did love it on him. Matty looked cute all puzzled.

“We don’t talk about this stuff. I’m okay with that, and I’m not complaining.” she raised her hands.

“We should…” he thought out loud. Matty wanted her hearing the truth from him, not from some shitty website. 

“What? No…I prefer not to know.” she folded her arms, resting her back once again on the cushion.

Matty took a strand of her hair, getting distracted with it. Y/n’s body shivered with the action.  “You just want to find out through Instagram?” Matty hummed.

“She’s such a big mouth.” Y/n shrunk in her place, making her hair fall all over her face. Matty changed his attention to the front of her head, moving strands of hair out of the way. She was blushing. 

“Really, Y/n…I don’t mind telling you.” He did mind. Matty was desperate to tell her everything, at the same time his mind was constantly repeating how dangerous this whole conversation was. 

Little did Matty knew how much against Y/n was to the mere thought of him talking about fucking other girls. Her heart was hurting, her legs aching to run away somewhere safe -for example, her room-. “I do not want to know, Matty.”

“Why? I’m looking forward to learn about Prince Charming's tools of seduction.” Matty allowed himself to touch her chin, directing her attention to his face once more. His intention was to make it funny, but the proximity of their faces and the feather touch make it sound everything far from comical.

“You’re impossible.” Sat back up, tying her hair in a bun on the top of her head. Matty let his hand touch the side of her clothed leg. 

She needed to focus on anything than Matty. Her cheeks were on fire, making it complicated for her. Y/n felt him everywhere.

“Come on…Why don’t you wanna know? If I’m honest, tabloids make it look twenty times bigger than it really is.”

Y/n was intrigued, she couldn’t deny it. “Really?”

“See? You want to know!” Matty teased her.

“Nah”

“What about you tell me about Pri- Sorry, Paul…and then, I’ll tell you my stuff.” Matty offered as if they were in a commercial transaction.

“Matt-” Y/n was running out of excuses, Matty did notice.

He almost facepalmed himself while saying, “Come on. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Y/n took noticed of every fraction of his face. The freckles she remembered to kiss, specially during the mornings when they were acting sweet on bed. His stubble making an appearance. She wanted to run her hand, feeling the rough scratch of it against the skin of her hand. Not a single part make her believe he was being insincere. “Yeah…”

“Okay, Paul” Matty rubbed his hands as a fly would do. He never failed to make her laugh. 

“Why me first?” she whined.

“Because I say so…” the ego of this man, she thought.

Y/n muttered. “Rat”

“Yes, darlin’?” Matty joked, resting his head on the palm of his hands. 

Y/n blanked her eyes, starting with almost the same tale she told Grace. “He took me to a fancy restaurant…”

“You hate that.” Matty complained, pushing his body forward. 

Y/n wasn’t the biggest fan of fancy restaurants. Plenty of conversations about it gave that knowledge to Matty. Y/n wasn’t going to let him know he was in fact right. “I don’t! It was really nice.”

Matty analysed her eyes. “Liar.” he stated, without a shadow of doubt.

“I’m not lying, Matty!” Y/n made an effort to sound convinced enough.

Matty never let go of the eye contact. “You dread the experience. Being there sitting still, talking about mundane stuff and eating tiny pieces of food.” the lead singer stated every piece of evidence. Again, he was right and both of them know it deep down.

“It was nice, okay?” Y/n tried to settle down the discussion.

“Fine” he blanked his eyes. “What else?”

“He brought me flowers” Matty frozen, although she didn’t let him have the time to think about the coincidences. Y/n continued, “Forgot them inside his car-” Matty started laughing hard, until his head fell forward into Y/n’s lap. He pressed his forehead on her leg.

“What are you laughing about, idiot?” she chuckled without being able to contain it. Matty turned his head around on her lap, looking up, while his body rested on the couch. “You broke his heart with that, love!” he was smiling, victorious.

Y/n looked away. “I didn’t. He said he’s going to bring them next time we see each other” she explained and Matty ignored it.

“Tell him no, you already have a nice bouquet from Amelia” he wanted her attention far from Paul. 

“And you…” Y/n remind him, making Matty’s heart grew a size. 

He agreed, still smiling wide.“And me.”

Y/n started to play with his curls because the anxiety inside her pushed her to place her hands somewhere. They always felt softer than they looked. “It was a nice bouquet.” she admitted. 

“You’re welcome.” Y/n pulled his hair. “Auch. Okay, colour?” Matty couldn’t focus on anything rather her face close. 

Y/n felt like it was the thousand time she rolled her eyes.“You and Grace, I swear…yellow.” 

She wondered for the second time that evening if Matty knew anything about flowers. “Not very prince charming from him, if I'm honest…” she tugged his curls again, leaving her doubts behind. “Y/n!” 

“Stop calling him that then!” 

She didn’t really care about him calling Paul that, even she used it with Grace. It was fun to mess with him, at least a little, after all the teasing he putted her under.

“Never. Did Prince Charming- “ Y/n pulled a face that made him chuckled. “Kissed you?” Matty asked as if he didn’t fear the answer. The air was dense. He tried to control his breathing, faking being okay with his own question. Y/n stopped running her hands through his curls, even though she kept it there. 

“What if he did?” 

“Nothing.” he said quickly. Way too fast for his own liking.

“He didn’t kiss me.” Y/n admitted after what felt like an eternity for him.

He didn’t have more words, just the horrible image inside his brain of Y/n’s face and Paul’s close. “Mhm” Matty hummed, content with the new information.

“What?” 

His eyes were still closed when he wondered. “Were you waiting for him to do it?”

His heart marching to the rhythm of hope.

“I’m not sure” Y/n told him, sincere. 

“Mhm”

“Stop with the mhm’s!” She let her hand keep playing with his hair, massaging his scalp. 

“Sorry. Well, my turn.” Matty cheered a little, opening his eyes, without moving from his current placing.

This was his opportunity to let out a big part of what he wanted her to know. But Y/n didn’t think the same as him. For her, he was going to rip her heart out.

“You don’t have-” 

Matty started rumbling without hearing her. “I haven’t been on a date in…let me think.” he lifted his fingers in front of his face, counting. “Amelia was born in- We found out you were pregnant at week eight…” he was really thinking about it. “When was the last time we had a date?” he startled her with the question. The light coming from the side made his eyes look lighter and softer. 

“Never?” Y/n half answered, half asked.

“We had dates!” Matty searched inside her eyes.

“You never brought me flowers or booked a dinner” Y/n stated denying his affirmation.

“Because you hate that!” He wasn’t entirely right. She loved the bouquet Amelia and him brought home for her. 

“I don’t…hate it, entirely…”

Matty tried to recall some occasion that could pass as a date. “What about movie nights? The nights at the studio? We went to the cinema to watch Louis’ movie!” he went to move his fingers on the air again. 

“Really, do you want me to remind you the real purpose behind them?” Y/n smooth the lines of his forehead. Matty wanted to moan to the touch and the memories rushing through his head.

“Please do” he exclaimed, suggestively.

Y/n cheeks turning red. “Shut up!”

“Well, yeah, I haven't had a date in more than three years…” Matty continued. 

Y/n really felt he was lying, or minimising the truth, “I don’t believe it!”

“You let Grace influence you too much!”

“I don’t!”

“Anyway…I’ve been with a bunch of girls. I don’t remember them.” Matty admitted with shame painting his features. He knew he could speak with freedom, although the thought of Y/n thinking less of him made him regret saying his thoughts out loud. Even when he was sure Y/n wasn’t prejudice. 

“How come you don’t?” Y/n was truly puzzled. 

Matty scratched the space between his eyebrows, blocking his eyes from hers. “It was more about necessities….I wasn’t fully present…I stated how much I wasn’t into pursuing a formal..type of- A relationship” He started to sweat under her weight of his words.

“How ‘gone’ are we talking about?” Y/n quoted raising her fingers up.

Matty played with his hair, frustrated and embarrassed. “Very drunk most times. I believe I remember a few, can’t really tell.”

Y/n wasn’t sure what she can or should say. “That’s horrible, Matt. You should take some girl on a proper date…” she pinched his cheek.

“Oh, now you are giving me dating advices?” Matty lifted himself, leaving the warmth of her lap. He was inches away from her face.

“Nah. Take it as advice from a…friend” Y/n brushed him off, without moving a muscle.

“Mhm, a friend” Matty hesitates, looking directly at her lips. Y/n’s breathing stopped, acknowledging the direction of his eyes.

The baby call broke the bubble. Y/n excused herself, running upstairs to get Amelia. Matty let his head fall on the couch under him, face down. He groaned.

Friends? 

He shook his head, lifting himself up. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amelia was giggling loud when Y/n entered the house after a quick visit to the shops. The sound brought a smile to her face. 

“Forty, forty-one…” Matt was counting out loud. Amelia never stopped laughing.

Y/n made her way into the living room after leaving the groceries in the kitchen. Matty was crunched up, while Amelia cackled under Matty’s toned body. He let himself down, without pushing his weight into the baby. He kissed his cheeks and come up again. “Forty two.”

“What are you two doing?” Y/n asked, amused, from the frame door. 

Matty looked back at her, without breaking his form. The muscles on his arms moving due to the force. His curls sticking to his forehead a little. “Working out.” 

“I see.”

“Mommy!” Amelia slipped away, moving between Matty’s arms, letting him come down and rest. Mel took Y/n’s hand and pushed her close to the floor. 

“What?” the girl pushed again, letting her know to come to her level. Amelia let her mother hand go and went to stand beside Matty. Both parents looked at her, prompted down messily. She made her way into her back again and shout.

“Daddyyy…” she was making grabby hands. 

“Again?” he asked.

“Yes.” Amelia said in the cutest tone.

 “She’s just obsessed with this.” Matty let Y/n know this piece of information.

He succumbed to Amelia's wishes once more. Y/n took her phone out, recording the game. She was going to miss Amelia's cute and pitchy laugh when she grows older. 

After a couple of fake counting, Amelia called her mother once more. She urged her to lay like her, and Y/n couldn’t say no to her baby. Matty and Y/n knew they spoiled the child a lot, although it was hard to say no to her happiness. 

Amelia disappeared from under Matty’s body and pushed Y/n’s shoulders down. “Daddy.” she said. 

Y/n looked directly at Matty, who was focused on his daughter. It wasn’t too hard to add two and two. Amelia want everybody involved in the game. She was way too innocent to know the tension forming between mom and dad. 

“What?” Matty asked her, knelt down in front of her. Amelia didn’t hesitate to take his hand and try to drag him closer to Y/n. 

Matty looked at Amelia’s mother, waiting for her response. “Just do one or two, she’s not going to stop until you-”

“Okay.” He didn’t need to be told twice. 

Matty rested his hands on both sides of Y/n’s shoulders. This wasn’t a strange position for the couple; even when they haven’t done it in a long time and after the evening they spend hours before. Matty took a big breath. He was tired at this point of the game, and being this close to Y/n was making him dizzy. 

“Daddy!” Amelia’s voice brought him back again. 

He plopped down, resting his lips slowly onto her cheek. Y/n closed her eyes for a second. 

She was feeling every part of him close. Y/n realized how much she had missed it. A wave of heat washed over her body. Matty made his way up again, Y/n opened her eyes, looking at him.

They were playing with fire.

“One.” he breathless said. 

Suddenly he was back down again, this time the tip of his nose was on her neck, inhaling her essence. Amelia’s clapping brook the bubble their parent were into. She was done with not being the centre of daddy’s attention. 

Matty moved away with hesitation, Y/n cleansed her throat and made a lame excuse to exit the room. Before going, she kissed Amelia to not got her upset. 

Matty looked at his daughter. “You little nymph.” he hugged her. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His eyes were closed, the light was out. Matty heard the cracking of the door opening slowly. He froze on his place, in the middle of the big bed that occupied most of his bedroom.

“Matty, are you sleep?” Y/n asked from the proximity of the door. Matty cracked an eye open, wincing at the light of the hall. Her frame was dark in contrast with the white light. 

“No,,” sleep was a rear thing for him those days. “Everything alright?” He asked.

She didn’t respond. Matty watched her turn the hall’s light off and close the door.

Soon the mattress was sinking under her weight. Matty felt nervous like never before. He was almost naked, usually he slept like that. Leaving clothes at his reach just for any emergency. 

Matty propped up, helping himself by the support of his arms. The sheets revealing his chest even when everything was dark. “Y/n?” he hesitates. 

Y/s placed her hand in the middle of his chest. She was barely touching him, even though her body radiated warmth. 

Y/n pushed. Matty fell again in his mattress. Slowly but surely, she let her head fall into his chest. He sighted loudly. It’s been so long since she was inside his bed, in his bedroom. Almost, skin with skin.

Y/n traced patterns on his chest. Matty held a moan. It’s been so long since she touched him like that.  

He sensed her move around, instantly missing the feeling of her resting on top of his body. 

Y/n left a trail of kisses from the middle of his chest, until she reached the ‘we are kings tattoo’. Matty whined without caring, he wanted to enjoy every minute and second of it. 

“Y/n…” he meant to warned her, to ask her but her name came as a moan dropping from his lips. Sweeter than ever before.

Y/n moved even further down, hooking her fingers on the elastic of his underwear. His heart beating inside his ribcage, expecting the next action.

Matty in a reflex move grabbed the back of her head. “Tell me how much you want it, Matty.” the lights coming from outside illuminated her factions. Y/s smirked wide, playing with the fabric. Matty’s cock twitching under it.

Matty propped up from his bed. His breathing and his heart faster than normal. He ran both of his hands through his wet hair, messing them even more. 

He closed his eyes tight. 

The image of Y/n about to suck his dick so vividly in his mind. 

He tried to think about anything else, whatever helped to avoid the dream from returning.

Who was he trying to convince? 

Matty played the scene again. Making his right hand came in contact, over the fabric of his boxer, with his hard dick. He winced to the touch, picturing it was hers. 

If he was a better person, he would stop. Matty knew it was wrong, but it felt right. Amazing, mind-blowing.

Like so many times during the past two years, he pleasured himself at the thought of the woman he was in love with. 

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy! dad #matty healy x you #matty the 1975 #all i need

[novaonhere]

Pretty Boy

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: In the midst of intense training, Cal’s usually hilarious banter turns into a confession.

Word Count: 800

Warnings: Chaotic in a good way, cussing

A/N: Sorry for the infrequent posts, school has been taking most of my time, and I'll post when I can. I do have all of your requests drafted up and I just need to type them out. I haven't forgotten about you lovely people!

Prompt: “…Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go. What the hell?” “That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while.”

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

Sweat pours down the Jedi's face, raising his lightsaber to block once more. His eyebrows furrow, his lips tighten by the edges; she was getting much better at this. Striking his saber down, he takes a large jump backwards, his hair striking his freckled forehead. Small strands stick to his face as he quickly flicks them away. His eyes look to hers, a very noticeable frown portrayed.

His sparing partner seemed to be effortlessly whooping his ass. Her hair not once flying into her face, her eyes constantly trained onto him, the playing field, the deadly weapons in the vicinity. She wasn't rubbing it in his face, per say, but Cal was usually the one outsmarting his friend. Friend? Is that the right term? What was she? Who was she to him? Only the sound of her lightsaber retracting let him out of his trance.

"You seem out of it," She states, placing a hand on her hip. "You're usually trying to make some witty remarks, but I've almost cut your face like three times." Cal retracts his saber as well.

"My bad," Cal rubs the back of neck, his eyes never leaving his dirt covered shoes. "Lost in thought," She only hums, taking a few steps closer to him. He can physically hear his heartbeat as if it was trying to escape the jail cell that was his rib cage. His ears burn, feeling exposed. His body seems to move faster than his brain, as he takes a huge jump backwards, whipping out his saber in a ready position. This catches his friend off guard, her hand shadowing over her own saber.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" He taunts, taking a swing at her. In the blink of an eye, she counters, knocking the sabers off to the side as she dodges.

"Of course, the hit and run," He smiles, his ears still on fire. What was he saying? Why was he talking? Small giggles erupt from the other Jedi, causing Cal's breath to hitch. Sensing his hesitation, she takes a jab at him. Now it was Cal's turn to hit and run.

"You see, copying is the biggest for of flattery, Cal." She smiles, wasting no time to swipe at his feet. He jumps backwards, inching closer and closer to the wall of the practice arena. "You scared, pretty boy?"

"Oh, I'm pretty now?" WTF WAS THAT, CAL? Now his entire face felt flush and hot, but the pretty girl did indeed let out another giggle. However, it's less enticing when she's practically backing him up against the wall of the arena.

"Of course, you got the hair, the freckles, the smile, and you're one of the last Jedi. You're a ladies' man, Cal-i." She smiles. He lifts up his saber to block her oncoming one, but she drops her own quickly and uses the Force to knock his out of his hand. It flies across the dirt, leaving Cal defenseless. She raises her saber, hovering a few inches away from Cal's throat. The heat of the saber warming both of their faces, one smirking, one flabbergasted. "Any last words?"

"If I'm pretty, then you must be handsome," Cal panicked. The already quiet room seemed to now have gone more silent.

"... What?" She laughs, retracting her saber, clearly having won the duel.

"No, not handsome, the other word," Cal retraces, refusing to meet her confused gaze.

"Am I the pretty one?" She asks, crossing her arms across her chest, the smirk never once leaving her face.

"Obviously, but you're so much more than that," He stumbles over his words, trying to get him out of this situation. “…Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go. What the hell?”

“That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while.” She laughs, lightly punching his tense arm. If his face could turn redder, it did in that moment. "I stand by my statement of you're pretty, ya know." Cal just blinks, and his jaw drops slightly.

"Oh," was the only word he could muster. She smiles, watching the realization slowly dawn on him. Like a tidal wave crashing over him, confidence surges through his body as he extends his arms and drapes them around the other Jedi's waist.

"So forward," She smiles, looking up at the redhead, as if she was waiting for him. With the goofiest grin, Cal leans down, closing the gap between them for a much-deserved kiss. They part ways, taking in the freshest breath they've ever had.

"Come on, pretty boy, you look exhausted. Let's get some rest before Cere asks us to go do something more productive." Locking hands with the man, they walk towards the door, a pip in his step as they went along.

#cal kestis #cal kestis jedi survivor #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #reader insert #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars x y/n #y/n

[fluffygreenkoala]

The thing people hating on Spider don't want to understand is that he did *that* choice at the end because he'a a good, compassionate soul.

Also, I'm hoping that even if the Sullys distantiate/get angry at him for his choice at the end of Atwow they'll eventually understand why he did that choice - and Jake/Neytiri learn how badly they've treated him all his life by outright neglecting him (Neytiri) and silently staying aside not doing anything for him (Jake) so all knots can be unwrapped and he becomes one of the people

Like, I can't find it but I *swear* to you I read an interview in which Cameron states he was held prisoner for *MONTHS*

And we've only seen the tip of the iceberg of what they did to him

That would mean Spider having a breakdown over his torture at the hands of the RDA during those months he was held captive

Yes, I want them to feel guilty

Leaving Quaritch to die would equal being just as cruel as him/the people that tortured him, and he doesn't want to

He wants to be someone that makes choices he won't regret (and there's also the factor of Quaritch giving him a sliver of humanity and goodness he didn't receive from either Jake or Neytiri who where supposed to be his tarea sa'sem (spirit parents), so there's the psychological issue as well.

Jake:

•Calls him a stray cat

•Doesn't teach him basic survival things for living on Pandora

•Constantly goes along with Neytiri's distasteful behavior towards him

•DOESN'T TRY TO SAVE HIM WHEN HE IS CAPTURED

•Worries NOT on wether he is safe or being hurt by their enemies but on Spider givin up information on them to be released

Like

Wtf

He was going to let himself be stabbed by Neytiri if she did for through with it just so Kiri could be safe, I just *know* it 😭

#spider avatar #avatar spider #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #avatar #avatar the way of water

[ae-neon]

Azriel and Nesta plsssss🙏🏾🙏🏾 literally anything

GURL you don't even go here, wtf 😭 anyways here's that leather kinktober nezriel thing I was supposed to do

Illyrian leather was a second skin, soaked in water from the peaks of Ramiel and inlaid with spells so ancient their true meaning was lost, the material transmitted sensation with crystal clarity. The sensitivity allowed for Illyrian warriors to maintain a sense of awareness about air pressure when flying while also providing protection in battle.

It also, Azriel had found, had other uses.

The first had been his gloves, the idea born in the shame of his scarred hands though now they represented a certain comfort.

The second had been occupational, he'd needed to inflict pain without marking the skin of a nobleman of the Court of Nightmares.

The idea had naturally progressed to an exploration of the use of Illyrian leather in his private escapades, though he didn't want to think about what that might say about him.

The use of the leather in this way might be considered uncultured, blasphemous even, but Azriel had no love for Illyrian traditions and, it seemed, such a thing could be bought given the right price.

The tailor had pretended at airs when Azriel had approached him about making Nesta a full suit, unadorned by the usual protective gear and weapons compartments. But his pretentious protests had fallen silent when Azriel named his price.

Now, behind the thick velvet curtain of Azriel's room in the House of Inarus, he drew at the laced seams of Nesta's suit, the almost black leather laid against every curve and dip of her body.

Neither of them could be called talkative but Nesta was quieter than usual, blushing and avoiding eye contact.

It was almost comical given all they'd done together up until this point - inflicted pain and pleasure on one another in more ways than most people knew existed, touched every inch of the others body and seen each other in their most vulnerable forms - but part of what made all this so freeing to Nesta was a sense of modesty that had been ingrained so deeply into her it could not be permanently altered, only temporarily forgotten. A state of mind Azriel had driven her to again and again.

The leather, he knew from experience and from the way she shivered when his hand brushed down her back, amplified sensation to a new wearer - their mind caught off guard by the idea of clothing that felt like air.

He moved his fingers, deliberate and slow, around the curve of her waist and down the soft expanse of her stomach, feeling her muscles tense and loose as she took a shaky breath.

Nesta, they had both learnt, preferred to dominate but when she did allow herself to submit it was with an endearing and intoxicating amount of trust and vulnerability. She gave herself wholly to his guidance. Trusted him to take care of her even when she could no longer stand or speak or think.

Azriel's amber gaze flitted over her to the table of instruments, a part of him revelling in the building anticipation. A part of him mourned that he would not be able to mark her skin but another grew excited that he might be able to go harder than usual...

Tonight she would feel everything again for the first time and, while Azriel enjoyed being on the receiving end of her curious attention, he'd come to enjoy her unravelling just as much.

*

I guess it's limited by the length of a drabble but I finally get to put the leather idea in real words! Thanks for the ask bestie 💚

#nezriel #acotar drabble #mutual asks #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger #my writing

[moonlight-sonata99]

The Bad Batch comforting their S/o

Warnings: Established relationships,Sad reader,what reader is sad about isn't specified, 

Out of all of these tech is my favorite for some reason his headcanons always hits different for me wtf its a good thing ofc~

Hunter:

Does know what to do but tries his best nonetheless

I think he'd also give you a pep talk

About how you contribute so much into the group 

And how he personally wouldn't trade you for the world

after he would ensure that your at side no matter what

The two of you sat in the cockpit as hunter held your hand silently, you sniffled and rubbed his hand with your thumb.

Hunter looked at your face and smiled softly "you have us,and your with us for the long run." Hunter whispers looking into your eyes as you nodded, wiping your tears. "Your right,I'm sorry " you mumble as you look at hunter. "You don't need to be sorry" he reassures you. as you take his hand on his cheek and place a soft kiss on it

Echo

Confused asf like hunter, tries his best

But unlike hunter I don't think echo would use words to reassure you, 

He would use his actions.

honestly i think in a relationship with echo its constant reassurance

either it be you comforting him when he has nightmares 

omfg this is getting long i dont love this man i SweaR

"Echo..where are you taking me?" You sigh out, catching up to echo who was walking ahead of you

"We need extra parts for the marauder,thought we'd head into the city for them." 

"You?head into the city?thought you didn't like the attention it brought."  You said said with a little smirk as echo looked at gazed at you and looked ahead. 

"Maybe,but it'll be a quick run" he stated looking ahead with a smile

The longer you two walked the more you grew to wonder where exactly this city was,

"I don't mean to ask alot of questions but…where exactly is this city? You said this would be a quick ru-" you stopped midway as you spotted in the distance a lake,  "a city huh? Should have known with a forest this thick" you chuckle as echo shrugged

"Saw it with tech earlier,thought you might like it to." Echo stated looking at you as you walked to the lake and looking at the surrounding flowers that glowed in the darkness and the small glowing particles in the sky. 

"It's beautiful. " you say walking back to echo and taking his hand to enjoy the scene together.

Tech

AWKWARD (at first) he gets used to it

man's really never needed to comfort anyone in his Life, but..I do think after you two get together he has list of things you like well..even before that he had a list 

very cute

"Your not feeling well" tech states as you look up from your book 

"Uh a little," you mumble looking back at your book.

In the silence tech looks at his device and averts his eyes back an sits next to you.

glancing at his device you close your book and look at him, “Hey tech,tell me about those bugs you guys once came across on that one mission” you say turning your body to look at him as tech looks up and pushes up hs goggles.

“You are going to have to specify,my knowledge of all insects is..”

“Big” 

“Yes.”he states

you chuckle scooting closer to him and leaning on his shoulder,

“Whatevers fine i like hearing you talk”

Wrecker

He'd literally would be the best at cheering up

No kidding you need a instant mood lifter 

Wreckers your man.

honestly the man we all need in our lives

im gonna say something that MAY be ooc but id like to think he gives the best hugs

Although I do think he outright say it

"Wrecker!!" A squeal rang throughout the marauder as you held onto Wreckers arms as he swung you around with his arms on your waist,

 wrecker smiles and swigs you around

"Put me down!!"you laugh 

"Not yet!" He laughs along side with you

“No please!i just ate-i feel sick”you exclaim

“All right,down you go!” with a big smile on his face he lets you down as you wipe your eyes 

“Oh you-!” still laughing you nudge his shoulder and he raises his hands with the intention of lifting you up

“you sure you wanna keep going?” he says coming closer to you again

“no no no !dont do it” laughing you start running passing hunter and omega who look on and look at each other smiling as hunter shakes his head.

Crosshair

Hm…to be honest I think crosshair wont show that he cares

Like

At all.

But

He will in his own way,he's just not good at it.

"Why are you sitting there?" A voice interrupts your thoughts as you jump and turn your head around

"Crosshair!uh..I was just fixing my blaster" you exclaim, turning around and wiping your eyes hoping he didn't notice the redness under them.

Cross hair looked at you as you sat cross legged on the floor,he then spoke up

"Well you're doing it wrong." He stated walking up to you and sitting across taking your blaster and inspecting it

"Oh-" you chuckle scratching your neck as you watched him 

Cross hair let out a "hm" after that 

"Hand me that," he said pointing to the toll besides you. Nodding you handed it to him standing up and sitting beside him.

Suddenly feeling your presence besides him Cross glanced upward quick then down again,

"The darn thing keeps getting stuck,I don't know why" you explain as he works on the blaster as he stays quiet 

After a while he repairs the blaster and polishes it, 

"Try it" handing the blaster back as you take it and head outside crosshair following behind you.

Pointing the blaster a handmade target you shoot

"Woah!" Looking at the blaster you look at crosshair "it goes way more faster than before!what did you do?" You exclaimed excitedly,he smirks and crosses his arms clearly letting your know he wasn't going to let you in on his "secret" 

"Oh come on!I won't tell anyone promise"

#the bad batch #theclonewars #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #thebadbatchtech #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch echo #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch hunter x reader #Thebadbatchechoxreader #the bad batch tech x reader #Thebadbatchwreckerxreader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb tech x you #tbb echo x you #tbb crosshair x you #Tbbwreckerxyou

[rowdyhughesy]

Start over - B.Brisson

“ But I promise you this, I'll always look out for you. Yeah, that's what I'll do. My heart is yours. It's you that I hold on to, Yeah, that's what I do. “

- sparks, Coldplay

Word vomit from my drafts. Enjoy

Never take no for an answer if you believe in something. It’s an advice that Brendan lived after, that you fight for the things you believe in.

Apparently that something wasn’t your relationship. The end of sophomore year also became the end of your almost two year long relationship.

The image of him standing there with his room packed up, clothes, random things he’s collected during college and himself. Tears running down both of your cheeks as he utters the words “I’m letting you go baby. It’s for the best.” It wasn’t for the best, not according to you. It was the worst.

Las Vegas took your best friend, other half, the love of your life away from you. So for that you will always hate the city that never sleep. Which makes it even worse that your friend group decided that you should go there for a break after midterms.

You were going to the city that took everything.

It had taken a lot of nagging and negotiation from your friends to even make you consider going. A lot of pep talks from the other Wolverines and with the promise that he wasn’t going to be in the city but in another state for a game it felt safe to go. So you did.

Bags packed and a good feeling you got on the plane and watched Michigan get smaller down below. Even though you had been apprehensive about going it felt good to get out of Ann Arbor, ever since you came back to Michigan all you could think of was Brendan. That he wasn’t there anymore but what hurt the most that he wasn’t yours anymore. Truss, Holtzy and Philippe had tried their hardest to make you forget about it and it worked for the most part.

It worked until Truss along with Dylan had the bright idea to set you up on a date. The guy was cute sure and almost funny but he wasn’t Briss and everyone knew that. It had all ended with you in tears in one of the hockey houses, crying about how you just wanted Brendan back while Philippe hugged you close and Truss apologised profusely. After that fiasco they’d decided to not meddle with your dating life again.

You just weren’t aware of the fact that Jacob and Holtzy had regular contact with Brendan about you and why he had decided to end it. But that was about to change thanks to the evil masterminds you call friends.

In reality you should’ve suspected something was going on because of the fact that during the whole flight your best friend had been on her phone. Fingers tapping away on the screen focused on a conversation she clearly didn’t want you to see. Which was odd since the two of you shared everything but not wanting to step over boundaries you stayed silent. Just focusing on the movie playing on your small screen or listening to music to pass the time.

Another suspicious thing you should’ve picked up on was that only you and your best friend climbed into the Uber, the rest of the group catching another cab and that the two vehicles went in completely different directions.

The Uber stopped outside of an apartment building, it looked brand new. With a glass door that leads to the reception with fancy furniture and a chandelier hanging from the roof. It felt far more expensive than two college kids could afford. That made the alarm bells go off inside your mind. What the hell was going on?

Grabbing your friends upper arm you drag her away from the conversation she was having with the receptionist. A look asking her wtf is happening which she only responds with a you’ll thank me later before she pushes you inside the elevator, pressing one of the buttons before the door closes in your face. Mind going haywire about what’s going on you starts pacing in the small space. Only coming back to reality when the elevator lets out a ding and the doors slide open. Looking up you feel your body go frigid and eyes widening in disbelief.

The only thought going through your mind being that you’re actually going to kill your friends as your gaze meets Brendan. His posture equally as stiff as your own but his face doesn’t have the same shocked expression yours does. Before your mind can process what’s going on your hand is already pressing the buttons trying to get out of the situation. But Brendan is faster as he slips through the doors before they close, pressing the stop button making the elevator come to a halt. Trapping the both of you inside.

“Don’t say anything just listen for a second. Please.” Cheeks heating up from the anger that’s starting to flare up you let out a snort at his words. He left you and now he just expects you to listen while he talks? Has he gone crazy. The stubborn part of you almost wins the internal fight but you don’t have it in you to say anything so you just stay quiet. Brendan takes this as a sign to talk because after that the words spill out of him like a waterfall.

“I know I made a shit decision. I know I hurt both of us when I broke up with you and nothing I do or say can take that back. I’ve almost called you a hundred times since that day. I really believed that it was the right choice to make, I didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t get to where you wanted to go. I didn’t wanna hold you back from what I know you can be. I was scared me not being in Michigan would tear us apart and just ending it felt like the easy way out, spare us all the fights that could’ve happened.”

Raising your hand Brendan snaps his mouth shut, waiting for you to either slap him silly or curse him out. Neither of those things happened. Tears now freely running down your face Brendan feels his heart crack seeing how much he’s truly hurt you.

“You did a shitty thing Brendan. It was supposed to be a discussion, not something you can decide for me, for the both of us.”

“I know that now and I’m willing to fight for this. If you still want me.”

“I could never not want you Brendan. But things can’t and will never go back to how they were you do know that right?” Brendan nods his head in understanding. The hopeful glint he had in his eyes before is fading away with your words. Even if things will never go back to how they were before he is still Brendan and you’re still you, he is still the love of your life and that won’t change.

“Good now how about we start from the beginning? Hi I’m Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N I’m Brendan and I have a feeling you’re my future wife.”

#brendan brisson imagine #hockey blurb #brendan brisson #nhl imagine

[softrozene]

Deserve Better

Anonymous requested: I adore your Molly x fem and I died at the fact they didn’t recognize Dutch in the bar. Can I get something similar but with Abigail? Like a f!reader shows Abby how she should be treated post ganvg and whisks her away from John? please don’t hurt my boy too much 😂 much love ❤️ 

rdr2 masterlist

AKFDA Thank you! I am so glad you like my Molly stuff- And this? This is genius. I love the Marston family with all my heart but sometimes I agree that Abigail should be treated better (Thankfully we get that in the epilogue of the game- For however long that lasts :’))

Also, I know you said post gang but I just had to do it during.

Originally published on January 6, 2021

Abigail Roberts (Marston) x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, technical cheating? Abigail leaves John - John is like “wtf is going on”, per request John is not hurt that much - Just in shock, best friends to lovers.

Words: ~1,100

-

In her own way, Abigail has always been really proud of you. You have never backed down from anyone despite being a woman yourself- And tend to take on the “manlier” missions to prove the men wrong. She looked up to you- Especially since you were there the year John left the gang.

It was tough on her, but you were her rock and best friend.

It was one of the reasons why she did not think much about Sadie also taking on a more masculine role. It was more fitting, and she loved how you and Sadie stood up for the women of the group- It was refreshing.

She could tell you everything- All her worries, even those she was too afraid to tell Hosea or Arthur. She confidently told you because you just listened. You did not offer advice unless she asked and you while everyone was rather careful with their words to avoid her wrath when it comes to the truth- You are blunt.

That is why she never really thought of you as a partner- Not until now when she asked for advice after seeing John, completely drunk, asking Karen to hook up. Thankfully, the latter had enough respect for Abigail and told John to basically fuck off.

Abigail had unfortunately overheard this encounter- But instead of her usual anger she felt towards John, she felt rather… Defeated.

Thus, making her come to you and this time instead of venting, asking for advice on what she should do. How to stop making a man who is too hesitant to her and somehow still denying Jack- Love them? How can she stop loving him despite all the pain he keeps causing her?

She thought she was going to lose him up in that mountain- She truly was grateful he was brought back alive but now… It feels like something did die back up there.

So now- She stares into your serious gaze and feels a bit nervous at your thoughts. You were not going to sugar-coat anything, and it truly was one of those traits she adores from you.

However, the first words that fly out of your mouth leave her in shock.

“You deserve better,” You state.

You go silent again and she processes what you say- Trying to fight off the anger and need to defend John because you are her best friend and she asked her for advice. She will listen to it with an open heart. You let out a sigh and look to be contemplating something.

Then finally you continue, “Listen- Abby. You deserve so much better. I know the love you have for John is strong and I can see as clear as day that he loves you too, in his own slightly fucked up way, but in the end, what you need is someone who will be there for you always. You not only have yourself to think of but you have Jack. I respect John I do but he is a shit father- He has been avoiding that boy since he was born- He even went out of his way to leave for a whole year. He is still pushing him away. I do not know what to tell you about that but for Jack’s sake, you need to figure out if you want that indecisive man to be in your life… Or-“

You stop talking making her serious expression urge you on. You do after you sigh.

“Or I can help you. Jack can’t have this life forever and he should get a shot at a normal life. We can leave the gang for good, I am already a pretty decent shot- I can get a job as a hunter or whatever, maybe even a bounty hunter, it doesn’t matter to me but I will help you get a beautiful home. I will help you whether that means just as best friends, Jack’s second mom, or even as a lover to you- You name it and I will do it,” You state.

Abigail pauses. Her expression falls as she processes your words and then she realizes that you technically confessed to her. That you have a thing for her. This brutally honest confession is opening up her eyes.

“Listen, forget I said anything about the lover part. I did not mean to make it weird. I will give you time to think about it and just know I did mean the last part. I will do whatever you name,” You say.

No- Abigail does not need time. She has not felt her heart race like this since she first fell for John. She can feel the honesty in your voice and to be honest- She did not think a fellow woman could be her lover but hearing you say it?

It is clicking into place. You have been there since Jack was born. You comforted her when John left- You have always been her rock- Her best friend. Maybe you were destined to be her lover? Open up her eyes and be there for her and Jack since John painfully does not want to.

“Let’s go then. Right now as lovers. I will go back up Jack’s things,” Abigail states seriously.

You raise an eyebrow and before you ask if she is sure- She nods her head. “Right now. I am going to explain to at least Arthur and Hosea since they care about Jack and I.”

“Alrighty- I will pack up the horses,” You say a smile on your face.

Your heart races and you feel… Happy- Not just because Abigail just said you can be lovers, but she is willing to leave everyone with you for her and Jack’s sake. She trusts you and you promise to not let them down.

Immediately- You can hear John’s shouts and wondering what the hell is going on. He shouts, “Where you going, Abigail? Where you taking the kid?”

He does not say his kid. When John follows her to your horse- He looks even more confused. Jack looks excited.

You help Abigail and Jack onto one of the horses (with the promise you will return or compensate it) for Hosea before getting onto yours. The whole time Abigail and John argue, and he finally gets fed up.

“Good riddance then.  Though I know you and you will come back eventually but hopefully you do not. Keep that kid for all I care,” He grumbles as he contradicts himself both in voice and looks.

You give Abigail one last look- To turn down your offer and yourself and instead she takes your horse’s reins and begins to lead the way to your new life together.

#softrozene writes #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #abigail roberts x reader #abigail marston x reader #female reader #fluff