🚨CALL FOR HUMANITY DO NOT IGNORE YOU CAN SAVE A CHILD'S LIFE‼️
I have lost more than 30 members of my family.I don't want to lose anyone else .All I have left is Lolo, the only survivor. I do not know what her future will be like without her father and her life as an orphan. Please, any amount will save the rest of my family.Please help my family survive these massacres & this war.The crossing will open at any moment.I have to register my family to travel. There's not much time
Nesma Ahmed is raising funds to help her family evacuate from Gaza. Currently, Gaza has been… Mena K needs your support for Help Nesma and h
I'm Nour Alanqar, and reaching out to you during a time of unimaginable hardship. I am 26 years old, married to Ashraf Ismail, who is 32, and together we have three beautiful children: Hussein, 6, Rajaa, 5, and Youssef, just 10 months old. Our lives have been turned upside down by the devastating war in Gaza, and we desperately need your help.
My daughter Rajaa is a radiant beam of sunshine, bringing boundless joy, warmth, and love to everyone she meets.
On a dark night at the beginning of the war, our area was subjected to massive bombing. The explosions reached our home, forcing us to flee into the night, running amidst periodic explosions and searching for survival. We made our way to southern Gaza by morning, seeking refuge in Rafah.
This is our home, filled with our memories and moments of joy and happiness, now reduced to rubble. Its destruction shattered our hearts.
In Rafah, we found shelter in a crowded warehouse filled with strangers, all of us struggling to find basic necessities like food, water, safety, and cleanliness. Despite these challenges, we were again hit by direct bombardment. My husband was injured in the shoulder, and the scene around us was filled with blood and corpses. The cries of my children in those moments still echo in my head.
A fragment of what it once was, and now, what it has become.
We moved several times to places described as safe, only to face new tragedies. During this period, my precious daughter Raja contracted hepatitis, adding to our suffering.
It was incredibly difficult for me to endure these disasters, especially as I was in the process of giving birth. Youssef was deprived of proper breastfeeding and the necessary nutrition for his age. Hussein's right to education and a safe childhood have been cruelly taken from him.
My baby Youssef, whom I clung to throughout the war, running with him through the rubble of shattered homes to escape.
At an age when Hussein should have been enjoying his childhood, all his rights were taken away from him.
Our situation is dire, and we need your support to rebuild our lives and provide a future for our children. Your kindness and generosity can make a profound difference. Your contributions will help us secure safe shelter, access to medical care, and the basic necessities of life.
Please, consider helping us during this critical time. Every donation, no matter the size, brings us one step closer to safety, stability, and a chance to rebuild our lives.
Hello,
I'm Nour Alanqar, and reaching out to you during a… Nour Alanqar needs your support for Rebuilding Live: A Mother's Plea for Hope
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ your boyfriend takes care of you after you drink too much at a party
— content: third person, reader has she/her pronouns, petname usage (baby, sweetheart)
"Put me dowwnnn!" She whines, her fists weakly hitting his back. He laughs, unlocking the car. He opens the passenger side door and sets her down in the seat, buckling her in.
"Hey.." He says, grabbing her face to get her to focus on him. She giggles, leaning into his hand. "I'm going to drive, okay? Try to stay awake for me, please?"
"M'kay." She whispers, letting her head fall back onto the headrest. She looks at the sky as he shuts the door. He walks over to the driver's side and climbs in. He smiles at her as he turns the key, starting the car.
He takes his hand off the steering wheel and puts it in her lap. She smiles, taking his hand.
"M' tired.." She mutters.
"I know, baby, I know." He replies, looking both ways before pulling onto the road. "You can sleep if you want."
"Kay.. love you." She whispers, kissing the back of his hand. He chuckles, squeezing her hand.
"I love you, too."
"Forever?"
"Yeah, forever."
He continues to drive, glancing at her every now and then. Her head was hanging down and she was snoring softly. He chuckles, shaking his head. It's funny that she immediatly calmed down when he got her in the car.
It wasn't much longer until he got home. He unbuckled and climbed out, shutting his door quietly. He walks around the car and opens her door. He kneels and unbuckles her, putting her arms around his neck.
"I gotcha, baby." He whispers, sliding his hands under her knees. He picks her up, snatching her bag from the floor and carrying her to the front door. He awkwardly pulls out his keys and opens the door, shutting it with his foot. He carries her to the bathroom, knowing she'd have a fit if she woke up with makeup on.
He sits her down on the counter. She grumbles, her eyes cracking open. He chuckles, cupping her cheek. "Let's get this makeup off, hmm?"
"Hmm.." She hums, leaning her head against his shoulder. He wets a towel and starts wiping her face off. He pulls back her hair and wipes her forehead and her eyes, causing her to groan.
"Almost done." He promises, kissing her nose. She sighs, watching him clean off her face. "There we go. Now, let's get you in a more comfortable outfit."
He picks her up and carries her to the bedroom. He sits her on the bed, digging through her drawer. He pulls out a pair of pajama pants and a shirt of his. He helps her change, laughing at the fact that she was practically asleep already. He takes off her heels, putting her clothes from the party in a basket.
He changes into some sweatpants and his heart aches at her whines for him. He smiles, walking back over to the bed. He climbs in behind her and pulls her against his chest. He didn't have a shirt on, knowing that she would be cuddly and need his skin against hers.
"C'mere, baby.." He mumbles, holding her tightly. She sighs, trying to get closer to him. She was always so cold and he was always so warm. It was perfect.
He kisses her cheek. "I love you, sweetheart. More than you know."
She doesn't say anything, but she does nuzzle his chest. She was already asleep, her fingers gripping his bicep tightly. He chuckles, closing his eyes.
"Ken," you call from the kitchen, arms elbow-deep in dirty dishwater. "baby, can you come here, please."
You hear a chair scrape against wooden floors. "Yes, angel?" Kento walks in a few seconds after answering you.
"Can you pull the plug, please? I can feel something there, and I know if I touch it, I'm gonna puke." you wince, unable to move your hands in fear of touching the soggy food again.
Nanami chuckles and reaches into the soapy water to pull the stopper on the drain. "Anything else?" he rinses his hands under the water, removing any residue of bubbles and grime.
You turn your head to look up at your fiance and purse your lips for a kiss. Kento obliges, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. You love him for so many reasons, a list that spans the width of the earth and then some but in moments like these, where he willing reaches into dirty water just because you hate the feeling of soggy food, you love him a little more.
“you know i could have gotten you something for free, right?”
sakusa’s legs are spread, cheek resting against his knuckles as he sits on the couch and watches you.
he wasn’t one to complain about you wearing team merch, especially not when it had his number on it, but he’s still not sure why you didn’t ask him to get you something instead.
“i wanted to surprise you,” you defend yourself. “plus there was a sale.”
“paying nothing is even cheaper.”
“did you hear the first part about it being a surprise?”
kiyoomi replies with a deep breath before standing up. “you could have asked someone else on the team? not hinata or bokuto, but meian could’ve kept a secret.”
as soon as he reaches you, one hand comes up to play with a drawstring while the other finds its way into your front pocket. his fingers quickly intertwine with yours so he can pull you closer, and he smirks at successfully flustering you, even for a second.
“first of all, don’t look at me all smug like that—”
“i don’t know what you're talking about.”
“—second, i know, i thought about it. but official merch of anything is like, always ugly.”
“ours isn’t that bad.”
“yours isn’t that much better than any other team.”
“the colours are good?”
“yeah but the number and logos are always too big. i had this custom-made so it’s cooler.”
and to be fair, kiyoomi couldn’t really disagree. it had the jackal over your heart, claw marks stretching over your side and ‘MSBY’ on your left arm. luckily for him, though it was notably smaller than on the official jerseys, the number 15 and ‘SAKUSA’ were still on the back for everyone to see. even after all of these years, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat or two at the sight of your support.
“now, instead of a boring, normal jersey, i have a one-of-a-kind msby sakusa hoodie just for me.” you smile.
he hums, smiling softly in return. “alright, just for you.”
a beat passes while his eyes take you in again, before kiyoomi suddenly asks, “can i do something, though?”
the next game you come to watch, you get your regular spot close to the court. the team waves when they see you as usual, kiyoomi lingering for a few seconds so you can jokingly shoot a heart his way and he can shake his head.
the difference this time, though, is that you're wearing your new custom hoodie specially signed by your boyfriend in gold lettering, right under his number and last name.
Kiyoomi... i sure hope there arent any typos in this guys
Kiyoomi drapes an arm over his face dramatically as you do, in fact, settle on top of him, your eyes boring into him happily with your fingers tracing over his sternum, body draped between his legs. The box fan just a few feet away whirs to try and combat the thickness of Osaka air and why didn’t you invest for an air conditioner in your new apartment-
“You’re too hot for me to not lay on top of you,” you hum back, unbothered by the heat and focused on him. “Rain, sun, heat or snow can’t stop me from bugging you, you know that.”
“I figured once we hit physical stickiness that you’d have some mercy on me.” You quirk a brow at him, and he shrugs, “yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.”
“I don’t know what you think this is, but you’re cute for denying it.”
Kiyoomi does offer you a weak chuckle and tired smirk, and he feels your eyes completely fixated on him as he preforms these completely subconscious acts.
He’d blush if he wasn’t absolutely sweating right now- or not used to it.
Your eyes are always on Kiyoomi, you know he knows, you’re sure to make sure he knows- be it from physically looking at him so focused he feels your pupils shake over him and his body, or telling him ‘hey, you look like I’m gonna bite you later.’
That one, he didn’t believe until you did, leaving him with teeth marks littering his shoulders and biceps.
He does admire your ability to flirt right now. He could die on this bed if you’d let him.
“Hey,” you whisper, nosing at the softness of his tummy. He lifts one of his fingers to peek at you. “I love you.”
“Love you too, baby,” he mumbles, too hot to try and tease. His free hand cups your warm cheek and gently strokes his thumb over it, which you nuzzle into happily, eyes softly closing to relish in the feeling.
He lets his head fall back against the pillow, hand continuing to gently stroke your cheek with his long fingers. You lay your head down on his stomach, ear pressing to the muscle just above his navel. The room is quiet, save for the tired box fan and honking horns outside.
“You hungry?” You ask suddenly. “Your stomach’s making weird noises.”
“I want ice for dinner,” he murmurs. “And snow. And frostbite.”
“Yeah. Then come winter and you’ll be pissed that it’s so cold,” you snort.
I should be asleep because I have school in the morning but I thought it was important to say that I really want a Doberman boyfriend. Like possessive and soft for me. I would cry.
Normally, Kiyoomi is immune to it, if anything, he embraces your clingiest of affections and he takes them with ease, but today, for some reason, you’re nuzzling and nudging at him with every little thing, your eyes curved into a sad pout every time he looks down at you.
It seems like you’re insatiable, you’re on a craving for a fix you can’t seem to get, and he’s fairly certain you’ve almost cried at him a few times for that little bit of affection you can’t seem to get enough of, and normally Kiyoomi can read you like a novel, front to back.
Today, it’s almost like you’re a different person- no longer able to voice their needs, but plead for him to figure it out. Someone who doesn't seem to trust him, but still eggs for assurance and validation.
And he doesn't know why, but he can't pinpoint it this time.
He's exhausted every avenue, he's does everything he can think of, every question he could ask has either given him no answer or another needy little choke in your answer. He doesn't know, okay, he's trying, but he doesn't want to just ask you point blank because there's a part of him that feels like he should know.
There's also a glimmer in your eyes that tells him that he should figure it out.
Finally, for whatever reason, you stop.
Now, you're creating distance, and he hates this even more than you trying to crawl into his skin.
At least then, you still wanted him.
"I'm going to shower."
Your voice cuts him out of his detecting, snapping him from his thoughts as he nods encouraging at you. If he didn't feel like it would end in a fight, he'd cheesily ask if you wanted him to join you, but the question dies when you spin on your heel to leave him in the bedroom, alone.
He needs to know. He has to figure it out.
There's a buzzing of his phone that snaps him out of his pity party, and enthusiastic text from Hinata about the new jersey designs. Something about how they need sizing and promo pictures, and they should all get together to plan.
At this point, Hinata couldv'e texted him about anything on the planet and he would've gone. In his head, he weighs his options of staying here and leaving the jersey talk for tomorrow.
Or leaving, and letting you both have some time apart to sort out your feelings.
He's barely able to think on it before his feet force him to get up and make his way to the bathroom, popping open the door to call to you.
He just hopes this works.
"Baby, I'll be back!" He calls, voice above the rushing water.
"Wait- what?" You call back.
"Hinata needs to steal me for a while to talk about our new jerseys, I should be back in a few hours."
"Kiyoomi-"
"I love you!" He says, interrupting you before closing the door and making his way out of the house. He hopes that some distance may calm whatever it is inside of you,
By the time he comes home, he's surprised to see the lights turned on.
Typically Kiyoomi can come home at any hour and find you in bed, asleep, clinging to his pillow, but tonight, it seems you either forgot to shut everything down, or you're still awake.
Maybe if you're awake, you'll be able to sort out whatever happened today before going to bed.
When he walks in, the house is quiet. Scarily quiet.
"Nice of you to show up."
Yeah. You're up. And you sound bored.
The house is still active, but rather than make a dash for him to leap into his arms for affection, you're instead on the couch, eyes heavy and face sad.
After a whole day of trying to cling to him and his every move, now you're willing to be sedate?
He sighs and walks to meet you in the living room, and whatever angry look you try to pull gets demolished by the wobbling of your lip. “What’re you still doing awake?”
You turn to look up at him sadly, tears swollen in your waterline as you blink at him expectantly. “I missed you.”
He smiles at your words before shrugging off his jacket and folding it over in his arms, “I missed you too, baby. How was your night?”
“Quiet.” Your lips twitch as if you want to say more, but no other words fall from your lips. He gives you a small chuckle and scratched the back of his head.
“That’s… exciting,” he offers. You shrug. The tenseness in the room makes him want to throw up, he’s not used to this coldness from you- typically, you’re throwing yourself at him, especially with how you were acting earlier, but now you seem like you couldn’t care less about him. "Did you do anything?"
"Nope."
"Oh..."
"Where did you go?"
He shrugs, "Hinata and Bokuto wanted to talk about the new jerseys and the plan for practice tomorrow; then we got dinner and had some drinks."
"And you didn't think to text me? Not once?"
Chills run up his spine as your question comes with an emotioned voice crack, "I... I guess it slipped my mind... I'm sorry."
"Mm."
He swallows thickly, but his pounding head desperately wants to call it a night. “Why don’t we go to bed, baby?”
“You go ahead, im gonna get some water.”
He smiles and nods as he makes haste to the bedroom, happy facade dropping once his back is towards you. All he wants right now is to curl up next to you and knock the rest if the day away, praying that you're in a similar headspace.
He all but tears off the clothes on his back, dressing into far more comfortable wear as he goes to wash his face. Usually, you're right next to him, butting your head against him, nudging him to the side so you can join him, or youre sitting on the closed toilet seat just to watch him.
You seemingly have no interest in doing that tonight.
By the time Kiyoomi's done, his stomach churns as you're still not in bed, surely it hasn't taken you more than two minutes to get some water, and with an exhausted, and almost annoyed groan, he shuffles back down the hall to see you.
You... you haven't moved.
“Hey,” he mumbles, rubbing his eye. “How come you’re out here? I thought we were going to bed?”
“You didn’t kiss me today.”
He didn’t?
“What do you mean?” He asks, stalking over to the couch. You shuffle over to make room for him, but your eyes never meet his. “I kissed you so many times today, baby.”
“No,” you snip. “You didn’t. I know, because I’m so used to you giving me kisses.”
“I’m... I'm sorry, I guess I just-“
“And you barely hugged me, either,” you sniffle. His brows furrow and instinctively, he tosses an arm around your shoulder to try and calm you down. “Any time I’d reach for you, you’d look at me like I was some nuisance, and make me feel bad for needing the affection.”
“Of course you’re not a nuisance!” He says, rocking you both. “God, fuck baby, I’m sorry, I thought you just needed some more attention than usual and I just-“
“I’m not done.”
A wave of nervousness shudders down his spine, but he pulls back slightly to give you your room to piece together your thoughts. Had he really been that neglectful today?
“You didn’t even eat dinner with me; you went out with the boys. I was in the shower, I didn’t even get a kiss goodbye- you called out a quick ‘love you!’ and went off doing whatever it was you did tonight. You didn’t call, and you didn’t text, and I was home alone, thinking that I did something wrong.”
"No wonder you’re upset- I’m sorry, baby. Whatever I did today wasn’t a reflection of how much I love you; I just got a little busy, and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
You completely deflate. God, what has he done?
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he says sweetly, planting a kiss to your temple. “I never, ever wanted to hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry I did.”
You’re quiet. There’s a strange feeling of dread in the air. The longer you pause, the more he feels the anxiety settling in the pit of his soul.
"You really don't know why I'm mad...?"
He chokes on his own breath, "I... I didn't know you were mad..."
You hiccup in sadness, and he feels like he can't breathe.
The clock on the tv changes to 23:59, and you sigh sadly.
“Happy anniversary.”
You stand up without a word, letting Kiyoomi’s head fall forward along with his jaw. He looks at you in absolute terror, all while you face away from him, hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself.
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
The room is shrouded in suffocating silence, smothering anything Kiyoomi could say before he could even think of the words. Dark eyes dart over your frame. He feels sick, he could throw up on this rug right now, if he had anything to even puke up. Your shoulders heave, and he’d rather chew on broken glass covered alcohol before ever wanting him and his neglect to be the reason for your distress.
“I forgot,” he blurts.
No shit.
“I know you did.”
“How… could I forget?”
“You tell me.”
“I-I-I-I set so many reminders, how did I…”
“It doesn’t matter,” you snip, turning on your heel to stalk back down the hallway to your bedroom. “You forgot. And the day is over. It doesn’t matter.”
It does, he wants to argue. It matters, because you matter to him, and he abandoned you on a night that is so sacred to him, the day you crashed into his life and made him realize that whatever he was doing that put you on the road to him, was exactly where he wants to be.
He looks down at the clock on his iPhone, as it creeps over the 45 second mark, and he darts down the hallway. He runs like he’s being chased, like he’s on fire, and you can’t hide your noise of surprise when he bursts into your bedroom and tosses gangly arms around you and plants kisses all over your face.
He holds you so tight you could pop, and he sponges all the kisses he can over your neck and cheeks, and he hears you trying to fight back a giggle, and it only eggs him on to continue.
“I love you,” he pants. “I love you, I love you so much, every day I’m grateful for whatever being is watching us for putting me on the road to you. I don’t know who I worshipped right to be here, but I’ll be damned if I let my own stupidity sabotage that.”
“Kiyoomi,” you say, voice delicate and trying to stop itself from breaking. “You forgot. I just wanted... I wanted you to show up. You couldn't even give me that."
Now it's his turn for his lip to wobble.
You sniff sharply, "just forget about everything, I don’t care anymore.”
“But I care-“
“Clearly, you don’t,” you snap, trying to squeeze out of his grip. “I don’t have the energy for this right now. Let’s just go to bed.
“I’m not about to let this go.”
“Neither am I, but my demons need to rest.” Your eyes dart at his alarm clock, “yours too, apparently. Tomorrow you’re getting sized for jerseys- hopefully you didn’t forget that other important thing.”
Your words sting him sharply, even if he deserves every single one of them. He reels back slightly, gnawing at his lip as he tries to think of ways to fix this, fix the way you’re looking at him and feeling, fix the clear hole he’s singed into your heart.
You curl up into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets high, and he doesn’t know how long he does it, but he just stares at you. It’s like he’s waiting for you to scream at him, or cry, or do something that he should feel even more shitty for.
But it doesn’t happen.
You sniffle a few times, shuffle once or twice, and he doesn’t know just how long he’s been standing there until your breathing turns rhythmic and peaceful for the first time today. Your shoulders rise and fall, back facing away from him and god, he feels like such a loser about to lose the greatest thing that's ever happened to him.
Probably because he is.
You're going to leave him. You're going to see just how much he takes you for granted, how much more you're worthy of and how much more love anyone can give you- even if you still wanted to stay in the jackals, and he wouldn't blame you for shifting your love to someone like Hinata or Meian for a second.
A cold breeze smacks Kiyoomi in the face as, at some point in his spiraling, he ends up outside, keys jingling in hands and hoodie pulled messily on top of his head. His legs seem to know where he's going, even if he doesnt.
His legs take him everywhere that could possibly be open right now, there's no store with a three mile radius that he hasn't bought out between candy, chocolates, a few stuffed bears you'll adore, and three or four types of pizzas and sushi dishes each.
He doesn't care about the strange looks the cashiers and other patrons give him. He cares about trying to remember if you prefer sour or normal gummy bears. He cares about remembering if you like plain pizza or toppings.
He also cares about the way this pillow won't sit the hell up.
He cares immensely about the way the chairs from the island in the kitchen have no grip to them, and refuse to keep the blankets strewn across them up.
And fuck the knitted blanket draped over the lamp and top of the couch, because it refuses to stay the hell up and he's had to make at least four mad dashes to catch the falling object.
The fifth, naturally, crashes to the floor, and he can only sigh in defeat as he continues to fix the fort for the nth time.
"I'm armed," your voice yells from down the hall.
He chuckles, "no you're not."
You groan in annoyance before padding down the hall, and he turns his head to acknowledge your exhausted arrival.
“What’re you doing, Kiyoomi?” You ask, knuckling your eye. “It’s one in the morning.”
“It’s 12:23 pm on the east coast in America.”
You cock a brow, and he blinks simply before turning back to his blanket fort. He feels your eyes boring into his skull, but he ignores it. He’s busy.
“Uhm… thank you for the fun fact?”
“It’s 1:23 yesterday.”
“…and?”
“Komori is on the east coast,” he says easily, tongue poking out in focus. “Somewhere, I don’t really know where, I don’t know American geography. Which basically means a part of me is on the United States east coast. So, by the transitive property-“ he stands up and presents the messily made fort. “We still get to celebrate our anniversary.”
You smile sadly at his efforts but your bottom lip wobbles all the same, “kiyoomi, you forgot. Just drop it, okay?”
“No.”
“Kiyoomi, I’m tired-“
“I bought us some pizza,” he interrupts, lifting the reusable bags positively stuffed to the brim with other treats. “And i got those sour candies you like for some reason, but I picked aside all the ones you hate so you can just eat them in confidence-“
Your eyes glimmer in slight excitement.
“And-And-And I’ve got our favorite movies queued up, ready to go, but there’s a new playlist filled with love songs that I found-“
“Kiyoomi-“
“And god we haven’t danced around in months, do you remember the last time we danced? It was like… well, months.”
You giggle, and he brightens at the sound. He takes a soft sigh to calm down, “and I just… I know how bad I am at showing it.” He stands up and makes his way towards you, and when he cups your cheek in his hand and you mewl at him, he could cry from that alone. “But you are the only thing that matters. My only exception to any rule I could make. And I couldn’t give you the bare minimum, on the second most important day to do it.”
“Second?”
“If I forget your birthday, I need you to leave me,” he chuckles nervously. You slowly walk up to him as if timid and unsure, and when he opens an arm to ease you into a hug, he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he squeezes you close. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I know,” you assure. There’s a comforting silence between you both, your cheek nuzzled into the dip of his sternum before you hum.
“Can I go with you to size jerseys tomorrow?”
“I’m not going to get my jersey sized tomorrow,” he says without missing a beat. You tense up in his arms, and before you can protest, he shushes you and cups the back of your head to keep you close. “They will live for one day without me. It takes four minutes tops. They will get over it.”
“But-“
“No buts,” he says, pulling back and looking down at you.
“But-“
“No.” He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss to shut you up, soft and familiar but just enough to keep you calm for him. You purr into the kiss and let your hands wander around his torso, fingers fisting the fabric of his night shirt tightly.
The fingers on your head gently fists the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you grounded for him, and the whimper you pant against him has him in euphoria.
“Thank you,” you sigh against his teeth. He shakes his head before pulling back slightly.
“Don’t thank me… not when I made you feel anything less than the love of my life.”
You chuckle and gently tug the waistband of his sweats. “I know you’re trying to make up for it, now.”
“You do?”
“How many men are gonna stay up, figure out the time zones in America and pick sour grape from my bag of candy just to try and fix a forgotten anniversary?”
He laughs and pulls you in for another hug, one tight and secure and as close as he can get you to snap any broken pieces together.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ — miles says something that hurts your feelings and is trying to make up for that
includes; black fem reader, a bit angsty, fluff at the end, kisses, nicknames like ma, baby, mami and etc
“baby open the door” he sighs, leaning his forehead against your bathroom door. his heart hurts every time he hears you sob and sniffle..all because of him.
“leave me alone miles, i don’t want to deal with you right now” you breathe out shakily, wiping your eyes and cheeks from the tears. “i really don’t so please just leave”
he closes his eyes and stays still, not wanting to leave and allow you to be by yourself. it’s not the first time that you both have your arguments and disagreements. you both start quarrelling then to the both of you distancing to calm down before coming back to speak to one another calmly. just 3 simple steps that’s gotten you both a long way into the relationship but it seems as you were still stuck in the second step; distancing.
he knows what he said was wrong, he didn’t mean it and he genuinely isn’t lying it wasn’t even supposed to come out of his mouth- the thought wasn’t even directed towards you— he doesn’t even know anymore he just want to reconcile with you and hold you again. but he knew the moment what he said hurt you by the look in your eyes. the way your waterline filled with tears, an expression of heartbreak and your body slowly going from tense and confident to relaxed and defeated. the room was quiet and all you both did was stare at each-other. miles was just trying to find something to say when he looks at the tears slowly cascading down your brown cheeks, another hole opens in his heart.
“baby..” he stutters a bit but you turn and walk towards the bathroom, closing the door behind you as you sit on the floor of the small room, crying into your hands replaying those same 6 words again and again
“i wish i never met you”
to someone else, possibly, it could seem that she is overreacting but to you it tore you into some indescribable. miles is the type of person to keep everything to himself but when he met you all of that changed and was happy he did meet you, he really did. so now him saying he never wished he did, felt like you've just been stringed along this entire time. you know he said it out of anger and you know he didn't mean it but the thoughts swarming in your head, the train of thoughts being filled with passengers of insecurities overrules it in a millisecond.
“ ‘m not leaving” he shakes his head, sighing softly. “please just let me explain myself— explain what miles?” you cut him off abruptly, roughly rubbing your now irritated eye.
“you said it, it’s been said and it seems like you’ve been meaning to say it for a while now” you mumbled, not having the energy to even speak.
“i was just- ma, i was just overthinking and you were just talking to me at the same time so it was just too much for me to focus in that moment baby okay? i’m sorry” he apologizes, his expression turned into a slight look of desperation. “open the door for me? please?” he asks, quietly.
again it was silent and it was something he didn’t like either. the silence continues for at least 2 minutes before he hears the door unlock and open. he is revealed to his tired looking girl, eyes red and puffy from crying, and body stance just lazy looking all ready to give up.
he stares at you with a look of guilt and regret. he walks towards you slowly and cups your face into his calloused hands , just watching your every move 'n seeing you lean into his warm hands, closing your eyes with a quiet sigh, not knowing what say towards your boyfriend at all in the moment. it was just like that for what felt like forever. just him watching your face and all of your features carefully like he wouldn't remember If you were to just disappear right now.
"baby I-" he cuts himself off, wanting to word his messed up and crazy thoughts properly. "I love you- I'm in love with you" he mumbles, rubbing his thumb back and forth along your cheek and getting you to open your red eyes to look at him tiredly. "I never. ever. want you not to be in my life…no lo entiendes (you don’t understand), I need you." his voice gets deeper but softer as he moves his head closer to yours, placing his forehead gently on your own. "today I failed you as your boyfriend by saying something that I didn't even mean to you..I know what I said was wrong, I do mama, I do. I never meant to hurt you…" he whispers, pecking your lips softly. "I can't and wouldn't ever leave you alone, knowing I hurt you like this and enough to make you cry…thats something I wouldn't be able to even go up to my mother and tell her" he chuckles half heartedly, shaking his head and exhaling.
"..I am really sorry mami" he then kisses you deeply, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in closer just to feel your body against his own. you sigh once more, hugging him and kissing him back with two hands on either side of his face. he relaxes and picks you up, lips still intact and carries you to your bed, sitting down and placing you on his lap. you both separate for some air, panting lightly with you both just staring at each other again. he cups your face with one hand, looking at you straight in the eye with a soft look. "you're so beautiful" you frown and let a tear push out your eye but it didn't get a chance to roll down your cheek because of miles wiping it away. "no more crying okay? im so so sorry" he rubs your back.
"smile for me?…please?" he asks, watching you sniffle but slowly move the corner of your lips upwards into that beautiful smile of yours, so damn contagious it makes him give you that sweet small smile back. you now smile wider and hug him tightly once again.
"please don't do that ever again" you whisper, cheek against his shoulder. he nods and kisses your temple longingly.
"I won't even think of yelling at you again" he promises to himself and to you.
you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you
(i hope my spanish was okay)
Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day.
Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked.
miguel o’hara as a dad at his daughters parent-teacher conference 🤭
fem reader is wifeyyyy spider-person
genre - fluffyyyy / a bit suggestive (he grabs your ass🫡)
“Thank you so much for coming, Mr. O’Hara!Your wife called and said she couldn’t make it." Your daughter’s kindergarten teacher, Ms. Gomez leaned forward in her office chair, softening her voice towards your husband. He shakes his head, waving his hand,
"Ay, it's the least I can do, she's just caught up with some…work." He gives a reassuring smile before silencing his watch informing him of your current location on Earth-1610. He looks over at the chair next to him, smiling at his little girl kicking her feet in front of her. He rests a hand on her knee and she returns to scribbling in her coloring book on the desk. The teacher nods, smiling at him for a bit too long.
"Gabriella, honey? Why don't you go over to the next classroom and color with your friends while your daddy and I talk, hm?" She suggests, making eye contact with the young girl. Gabriella looks up at Miguel, seeing him nod.
"Go on, mamita, I shouldn't take long." He whispers, patting her hair softly. She nods and slides off the chair, gripping her crayons and paper firmly and running out the room.
"Now, Mr. O’Hara—“
"You can just call me Miguel." He smiles politely, resting his hands on his lap. Hearing you in his ear piece grunting and throwing punches. Miguel tried his best to return the teachers smile while he ignores the cries of other dimensional beings being absolutely demolished by his wife.
"Miguel," She looks down briefly before continuing.
"Your daughter is doing exceptionally well in my class. She's always participating and helping out her classmates, I can tell you've raised a brilliant girl!" Ms. Gomez exclaims.
Miguel nods, a small smile forming on his face at the thought of his little girl being so helpful. He wouldn’t dare take all of the credit for raising such a brilliant daughter when you worked so hard to teach her right from wrong while protecting her from the enemies you and Miguel faced.
"I'm showing all the parents these tonight,” Ms. Gomez opens her drawer, pulling out a paper covered in colors. "The students were asked to draw their favorite memory, and she drew a picture of you and her at the—zoo, I believe." Miguel takes the drawing from her, his eyes squinting as he scans Gabriella’s signature scribbles.
The “zoo” that Ms. Gomez described was really just his office space at the Spider Society HQ. Miguel asked Lyla to bring up a bunch of holographic animals and Gabriella thought it was the best thing ever. Miguel laughs softly, rubbing his thumb over the bottom corner of the page where she drew a small spider.
Ms. Gomez clears her throat, “We regularly ask the kids to draw, and I’ve noticed Gabriella rarely includes your wife in them...” She leans into her desk. “Is there something going on at home?" She trails off.
Miguel shoots his head up from the drawing. “What? What do you mean?”
The teacher notices his confusion and continues, "Well oftentimes, when we notice kids start to drift away from their parents, theres a correlation between their drawings and home life. She's stopped including her so i can't help but wonder—"
Miguel raises a hand and shakes his head, "No that's not accurate,” He laughs, “My daughter's very close with her mom, it's adorable, really! She—“
"Miguel, I think you're in denial.” She whispers, standing up and walking over to him, sitting on the chair next to him. “I know it's really hard to think like this, but trust me I'm only trying to help you—and Gabriella—before it's too late." She coos, placing her hand on his knee.
Miguel makes a strained face and nervously chuckles, "Listen." He shifts awkwardly, feeling her hand creep upwards. “This is very inappropriate, you shouldn’t talk about my wife this way, she’s—“
"Sorry I’m late!” The classroom door swings open, as you appear in the doorway carrying your handbag and your daughter's favorite toy in one hand, “traffic is terrible,” You lie, fixing your hair with your free hand. Your spider-sense alerts you, and your eyes land on Ms. Gomez leaning into Miguel with her hand on his thigh. The world goes silent—it’s deafening, Everything slows down, even the way Miguel pushes her hands away takes an eternity. He takes slow steps to stand up, straightening his shirt and time resumes.
“Baby, It's not what it looks like—“
You stare at Miguel in his fitted white button down, his black blazer hugging his biceps so tightly. The teacher stands up awkwardly, brushing her skirt down and smoothing her hair. She offers her hand out.
"I wasn’t expecting you, Mrs. O’Hara! It's so nice to see you again." She smiles wide—fake— holding out her hand for you to shake. You look at her hand, then back at her. Taking a step closer to her, you swat her hand away.
"Don’t you ever put your filthy hands on my husband again." You say calmly, through gritted teeth. Miguel steps in, placing a hand on your waist, holding you at a safe distance from her. “I'll break your fucking hands." You say, fire raging in your eyes. "Pull that shit again and I'll make sure you never find another job, pinche puta" You spit out, noticing her fearful expression, Miguel pulls you away.
"Alright, that's enough, c'mon now." He slides his arm in front of your waist, standing between you and her.
"Mama?" The sound of your sweet girl enters the room, you whip your head around, the rage melting away, replaced with a warm feeling in your heart.
"Hi baby,” You exhale, crouching down, “C'mere, my pretty girl!" You squeal, as she hugs you tightly.
"Look what I made, mami!" She holds out a paper, a scribbly, colorful drawing of her, Miguel and you covers the page.
“Oh, it's beautiful, mija! Let’s add this to the others on the fridge, hmm?" You ask, kissing her forehead. She nods excitedly, wrapping her arms around your leg as you stand up.
"I think we're done here." Miguel adds, grabbing your handbag from the floor and your daughters backpack in his other. He still manages to have room to lift up your daughter, hooking her onto his hip.
“Say bye-bye to Señora Gomez, baby,” You give her a sadistic smile. “Won't be seeing her for a while." You quietly add. Ms. Gomez stands in disbelief, wanting to say a thousand things yet she remains frozen.
Miguel hums a light tune on the walk to the car, your daughter fast asleep against his neck, clutching her favorite toy. Her arms lazily wrapped around his shoulders as he unlocks the car.
You settle her sleepy figure into the car booster seat. Once she is buckled in, you suddenly feel a pair of hands around your hips. You gasp lightly, shutting the car door. Miguel flips you around, pressing your back against the driver's side door.
"Y’know, seeing you tell her off like that,” Miguel whispers, his voice intoxicating, “was fucking hot." He bites his lower lip, grabbing your ass, his claws lightly grazing you. You look around the parking lot, making sure no one was around.
“Oh yeah? Well I had to make sure she wasn't going to pull that shit again." You roll your eyes, pecking his lips softly. He walks you over to the passenger side, opening the door for you before going back around to the drivers seat. You both glance back at your daughter fast asleep in the back. You look to Miguel, softly turning his chin to face you. "She didn't do anything else to you...did she?" You whisper, frowning.
He shakes his head, "No, she just had her hand on my leg, it wasn't anything."
"It looked like she would've kept going."You replied, tilting your head.
“You think I'd let her?" He narrows his eyes at you, turning away briefly to start the car. Before he drives off, he turns to you, holding up his left hand.
"I'm a married man." He flashes a lazy smile, winking at you as he shows off his silver wedding band.
☆༉ Miles Morales goes to a photobooth with his crush and can't seemed to stay focused...
☆༉ fluff
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
He couldn't focus, maybe he should've thought this through. The small photobooth had them squished against each other and her deliberately getting closer wasn't helping his senses. Her perfume was making him feel hazy, as if entranced by her mere scent. She felt so soft and squishy all he wanted to do was hold her but... that's not what friends do.
*CLICK*
"Nooo Miles! You didn't look at the camera!"
Her curls danced with her as she turned to him with the cutest look he's ever seen. The clear lip gloss he'd seen her reapply moments ago teasing him. 'So pretty ..'
"Miiiiles!"
'Right. Focus.'
"Well you didn't tell me we were starting." He jests back, his eyes still boring into hers with an intensity he knew he couldn't hide. He gives her a cheeky smile earning a playful slap across his chest.
"Okay fine, I'll do it."
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but before he could ask he felt her hands gently reach up to up his face, maneuvering him to look at the camera.
'She's holding me...'
Not even his enhanced hearing could make out what she was saying, to caught up in his own thoughts that made his heart clench. He felt bliss.. warm and fuzzy... 'Is this what they call butterflies?'
His eyes searched for hers again, gently pushing against her hold.
*CLICK*
"You are so bad at this my guy"
Her gleeming eyes fell forward, softly landing on his shoulder her right arm still draping over his right shoulder.
He laughed, her own contagious, their heads softly bumping into each other.
*CLICK*
She looked up, faces only centimeters apart, "What are you thinking about?"
Her voice fell into a whisper, mostly due to the distance but she didn't pull away, instead her mouth pulled into a soft smile, patiently waiting for his next move.
He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, eyes dancing between hers and her lips. "I.. uh.."
'Did her eyes always sparkle like that? She's not pulling away... Could this mean she...'
He slowly tilted his head, angling himself to her lips, slowly closing the distance. He stayed still for a second, as if waiting for her to push him back but she didn't. Slowly their kiss grew in movement, being gentle and careful with each other. Tasting their hesitation and uncertainty, their bodies moved towards each other. She linked her other arm around his neck pulling him forward and deepening the kiss. Miles let himself be pulled, resting a hand beside her head, caging her.
When they pulled back, it was just as gentle and careful, their eyes searching for answers.
"Does this mean," she starts, eyes darting between his, "you like-like me?"
He made a sound of amusement, his nerves leaving with it. "Yes silly..." Smiling at her, he reaches for a second kiss,
"Wait"
"Hm?"
"I-um need you to ask me out first..."
A small laugh leave his lips, her eyes were still bright but held a dust of serious in them. With their faces still close, she hadn't yet let go and he hadn't pulled back either, he gives.
"Okay, okay, fine, will you let me be your boyfriend?"
They share a smile that tries to hold in all their feelings all while keeping a playful air between them. She looks away overwhelmed with emotions, launching into his arms, pushing him back, "Yes!"
They laugh, both relieved and excited, he holds her gazing at her with the same look he's been giving her all day.
"Okay let's try again, except this time you have to look at the camera."
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