#I don’t like things that I’m genuinely upset about being brushed off

[rhiannonsknife]

heyyy first of all, i just needed to say that your writing is soooo fucking good like i was genuinely impressed when you said that english isn't your first language because I can't imagine how this could get any better. Also, it isn’t only about the way you write but also the way you just get each character perfectly. That's just... woah, just woah. So yeah, I hope you keep on writing for a long time for the sake of everyone's happiness lol

And lastly, you remembered us about how you also write for the rest of the yellowjackets, not that I don't enjoy the whole "let's give love to all ella purnell's characters" thing going on here buuuut i remembered one scenario has been in my mind for a while and I'd love if you wrote about it.

Shauna, after losing so much to the wilderness, carries this relentless, overwhelming anger that keeps most of the other girls at a distance. Even those who aren't outright scared of her still know better than to get too close. She obviously needs love and comfort, but god help anyone who tries to say that to her. And then r decides to take a shot, carefully inching closer without setting her off. Slowly but surely, r makes progress. First, just being allowed in Shauna's space, then a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hand, maybe even touching her hair. When Shauna finally lets her guard down, r sees just how touch-starved she really is, how deeply she needs someone to just be there, to be her person.

Shauna and r start disappearing for hours, slipping off to somewhere, maybe the airplane, where r can pepper her face with kisses, making her feel safe. And Shauna just lets herself melt in those moments, holding r close.

my mind just goes ogdofgkditwukymg w her

── ౿🪵 NO ONE COULD SAVE ME BUT YOU

— summary: shauna shipman needs a hug. that’s it. that’s the summary.

— warnings: hurt/comfort. canon typical dark themes. implied cannibalism (duh). child loss. etc. so: angst. some fluff. did not beta-read this. + i had no clue how to start or end this fic.

— a/n: woah thank you so so much!! i genuinely appreciate that <3 i’m not planning on stopping any time soon! anyway, i hope you like how this turned out!!

out here, she’s lost everything. you all know it, though none of you dares to actually talk about it. it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that she’s beginning to lose herself too. it’s concerning all the same.

shauna still gets her chores done, so it is not like you don’t have her support in this poorly built system, this attempt to keep things under control when -really- all last restraints of control were lost the morning you’d found jackie’s body, buried in the snow, and with all that came after that. the things no one ever speaks about.

perhaps that is why none of the girls have approached her yet: as long as she does what she’s supposed to do, why would anyone try and cross her, or potentially upset her? after what she’s done to lottie, it’s no surprise. sometimes, in moments during which you find yourself staring at her hands for reasons beyond you, you can see the flash of a scar, standing out against the thin skin of her knuckles.

maybe they’re scared of her. or scared of what she’s become, out here. it doesn’t make a difference. maybe you should all be scared of what you’ve become.

either way, it’s not fair. you obviously know that she needs the same comfort some of the other girls have found in each other, whether shauna wants to admit it or not.

so you -with nothing better to do for the most part- make it your mission to be this comfort for her.

at first, shauna gives you short, cold responses when you try to make small talk, but you keep at it. there’s nowhere to go anyway, nowhere she could flee to get away from your slightly awkward attempts to just talk. it’s a first step.

gradually, you notice her replies get a little longer, her posture softens, just slightly, and she doesn’t seem so quick to brush you off. a small sign, but it means you’re beginning to earn her trust. you don’t talk, not always. sometimes, you’ll just linger nearby and watch her prepare the last remaining pieces of meat or sit in the same room as she scribbles in the journal she’s brought from home.

sitting with shauna in silence becomes its own form of closeness; she doesn’t say much, but she lets you be near her. you can’t remember, now that you think about it, when she was last hugged. when she last felt the touch of another person. your heart aches at this realization. could it have been jackie? it already feels like a whole lifetime ago, that she'd been among the group.

over time, she actually starts letting you sit close enough that your legs touch. you hope it’s her way of saying that maybe she doesn’t mind your presence as much as she lets on.

one day, after a particularly hard night, you take a chance and rest a hand on shauna’s shoulder. you’ve noticed, even from a distance, that she doesn’t sleep well. truthfully, no one out here does. but, with your makeshift mattress closest to the spot she’s preoccupied in the farthest corner of the room, you often notice the way she flinches in her sleep, or shoots up in the middle of the night, panting heavily.

when you notice it that night, you slip out of the more or less comfortable ‘warmth’ of your blankets and make your way over to her.

she tenses, but for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. her silence feels like a monumental moment, a sign that she’s slowly starting to let her walls down. you sit like this, hidden by the darkness of the cabin and with none of the others awake, for a long moment. neither of you moves, neither of you even dares to breathe, afraid it’ll pass by as fast as it has come. then, she shrugs away from your grip and mutters: “i’m fine”. she’s not, obviously. but you take it as a small victory. you’ve felt the way she relaxed under your hold, the way she didn’t immediately push you away.

as weeks pass, you notice shauna becoming less and less guarded in your presence. she’s still wary, still sharp, but you can sense the small shifts, a quiet murmur here, a shared look there, that suggest she’s warming up to having you close.

maybe that night is what’s to blame, or maybe she’s genuinely beginning to realize how much she craves the warmth of another person. your warmth.

it’s one of these days where she’s angrily scribbling down words into her journal when shauna reaches a first ‘breaking point’. she’s sitting beside you in silence, the weight of the wilderness and the day pressing down on both of you. the only noise is the angry scrape of her pencil against paper. in a rare moment of boldness, you reach out, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.

you’re not sure why you do it. but shauna seems so far away from everything, so detached from the reality you live in, that you just want to offer her something grounding.

her first reaction is to freeze, her eyes widening with a flicker of surprise, and you nearly pull your hand away, wondering if you’ve overstepped. but instead, shauna lets out a breath and holds still, allowing you to tuck the strand behind her ear. as your fingers brush her cheek, you can feel her breath catch, her defenses lowering just a little. it’s a brief, fragile moment, but one that feels much bigger to you: an unspoken acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, she’ll allow more of this.

that’s when things begin to change: shauna starts looking for you after difficult moments, lingering by your side in ways that tell you she needs someone, even if she won’t say it; too stubborn to ever admit it out loud. she lets you take her hand quietly, her thumb rubbing yours a wordless promise that, just for a while, she’ll let you be her safe place.

it becomes routine for you and shauna to disappear to some quiet spot when the cabin feels too heavy. no one has figured you out yet, although you’re sure that they can put two and two together by now: tai has caught your eye, the last time you sneaked off together and lottie has long claimed that the wilderness has its fucked up ways of communicating with her. whether any of it is true or not, something about the glances she shoots in your direction tells you that she knows. that she might even appreciate it, though that could just be because she won’t be the outlet for shauna’s anger anymore.

after a particularly tense exchange with the others, she brushes past you, muttering, “let’s go.” you follow her immediately, of course, and the two of you wind through the forest until you reach the plane’s wreckage. inside, it’s silent and dim, a place that’s somehow managed to become a safe haven. the last reminder of civilization, somewhere far far away from you.

shauna lets herself lean back against the metal frame, shoulders dropping in relief, her usual guarded expression softening as you sit close beside her.

she doesn’t say anything, but her hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly, as if she’s grounding herself in your presence. then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she leans her head on your shoulder, her eyes closing as she lets out a shaky sigh. you wrap an arm around her, pull her closer, and let her melt into you, feeling her tension slowly give way as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

together, you stay like that for hours, just holding each other. shauna curls into your arms, letting herself fully relax in the quiet. you actually dare to cradle her head and press gentle kisses to her forehead, feeling her melt into your embrace, and trusting you in a way she hasn’t trusted anyone else in a long, long time.

“you’re…you’re way too soft for this place, you know that?” you hear her whispering. she doesn’t stop you, though.

when it’s time to return, shauna doesn’t say a word but gives you a look that says it all: gratitude, trust, and something almost like relief.

even when you’re not together, shauna’s glances toward you become longer, her eyes lingering with something that remains unspoken, as if she’s trying to understand this newfound feeling.

around the others, she is still hesitant to be openly affectionate. in the cabin, it is only late at night, when it’s just the two of you, that she lets herself fall into your arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be unguarded, clinging to you silently as if afraid you’ll vanish too if she lets go.

that same night, you catch a quiet confession under her ragged breath. she’s facing the other way, letting you spoon her from behind. only this way, does she dare to open up about how everything seems to slip away from her. she’s scared but hides it behind anger and frustration. you’re the first person allowed to see her tears.

you can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through. all the things she’s been robbed of: girlhood, like all of you. even if you’re ever rescued (which seems less likely with every day that passes) how are you supposed to move on? how are you supposed to live, like none of this ever happened? her best friend, who no one dares to talk about anymore, afraid it’ll bring back the things you’ve done. it’s like she was never here at all which, you think, must be even worse. motherhood, too, though she never even wanted it. no one seems to acknowledge that, out of everyone out here, she might just be the one to have lost everything to the wilderness.

in an attempt to comfort her, you trace mindless shapes against the back of her hand, slowly soothing her back to sleep. the letters of her name, a loopy S, gliding across her scarred knuckles with a tenderness so contrary to everything these hands have done. your own name, next. you hear a gentle chuckle coming from shauna. she knows what you’re doing, of course. you don’t stop.

the outline of wiskayok, as you remember from the map. she doesn’t seem to recognize this one, a little crease between her brows. “home” you tell her quietly and the crease vanishes.

it feels surreal that, somewhere out there, home is still a place. that wiskayok still exists to the people, to your families, your classmates, and everyone else back there. that it’s more than just a fading memory.

“you suck at drawing” she finally manages. it’s the first time you can hear the glimpse of amusement in her voice.

“what? you think you’re any better?” you whisper quietly, wanting it to last.

shauna shifts beside you, and takes your hand with a gentleness you didn’t think she possessed still.

now it’s your turn to lay back and feel. she starts with words. “yellowjackets” she spells out. a small smile flashes over your features as shauna studies your face attentively. then, though it’s harder to make out, she traces the word: “champions”. your heart feels heavy with everything that could’ve been.

shapes are next: a tiny heart, resembling the shape of jackie's necklace, then a simple circle.

"that's a soccer ball" she whispers expertly. for the first time, you laugh. it only lasts a short moment before you remember where you are, and that the others are trying to sleep just a couple of meters from you.

you fall asleep with her hand in your own, as both of your eyes grow too tired and you drift off together.

other nights, when she’s fast asleep and -for once- doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares, you find yourself watching over her. it’s the only time you get to see her the way she’d once been: when her features aren’t tense or pained, but relaxed. when she’s the girl you met at the very first soccer practice years ago, who hasn’t known any of the things that’ll happen to her in this lifetime. you stay up all night, only realizing how much time has passed when light starts spilling into the cabin and she stirs up.

you know shauna hates being pitied. so while you do feel for her, instead of asking if she’s okay, you just stay close, offering your warmth and presence. when shauna’s frustration bubbles over, she lets herself scream or cry in your arms, knowing you won’t turn her away. you hold her tightly all through the waves of emotions, murmuring quiet reassurances, and she clings to you, even as she struggles to accept that someone genuinely cares.

“everyone else… they don’t understand. they couldn’t. but you-“ she murmurs softly. “you’re the only one who sees me. the only one who wants to.”

shauna begins to show subtle signs of protectiveness over you, too: always looking out for you and offering the little comforts she can manage. even though her gestures are often quieter than yours, and less obvious, she's found her own way of showing she’s come to care for you, and that she’s willing to fight for you as much as you’re willing to be there for her out there!! <3

[lurkinganon0-0]

hey,

sorry I haven’t been active lately

I’ve not been doing very good

thanks for being here for me, you’re awesome

[sleepyjuice]

jj pussy whipped?

(not smut ;;

jj maybank. The guy who, on several occasions, gave his friends shit for being pussy whipped, would have never in his wildest dreams imagined that after meeting you, he would indeed become pussy whipped, too.

He was the last one to notice his own changes in behavior after getting into a relationship with you. His friends would poke fun at him but he would brush them off, telling them, “shut the fuck up, I ain’t pussy whipped.”

It was just little things at first.

About a month into your relationship, you were sitting next to jj outside the chateau, your legs resting across his lap as you and the rest of your friends were having a chill night in. Everyone was sporting a beer or a seltzer, mindlessly chattering amongst one another.

You finished your second white claw, beginning to sit up straight to get up and grab yourself another one when jj pressed a hand down on your thigh, stopping you from getting up.

“You need another, babe?” He asked, gesturing to your empty can.

“Yeah, I can get it though.” You responded with a smile, having no problem getting up from your current position to grab another drink.

jj shook his head at that, giving your thigh a little pat before gently lifting your legs off of his lap to stand, quickly stepping over to the cooler before you could protest any further.

“Ah shit, no more white claws, babe. You want a beer?” jj frowned upon realizing they were out of your drink of choice, turning to face you.

“Oh! No, it’s okay, I’m good. I’ll just stick to smoking then.” You assured him, really not wanting a beer. You never really got around to enjoying the taste of it. You’d have to be super drunk already to be able to stomach it.

“Damn, that’s my bad. I just grabbed the last white claw.” Pope spoke up from the seat across from you, gesturing to the full unopened can he had just grabbed himself only a minute ago.

“No, it’s okay, Pope, don’t worry about it.” You told him genuinely. It truly wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

You watched as jj turned his gaze to pope, flashing him a sheepish smile.

“jj, come on, man.” Pope laughed at the look jj gave him, unsure how serious he was.

You watched the interaction in confusion, unsure of what jj was doing as his back was faced to you.

“C’mon, bro, she doesn’t like beer. You do.” jj pleaded with his friend, and that’s when you realized what he was doing.

“Oh, no, jj, it’s seriously fine. It’s really not a big deal. Pope, don’t worry about it, seriously.” You sat up a bit, not wanting Pope to give up his drink for you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty.

You watched as pope glanced at you from behind jj before looking back up at him. A few moments passed, the two boys not saying anything before pope grumbled something and eventually handed the can to jj.

“You’re not serious,” you shook your head, laughing a bit at what had just unfolded. “jj, give him back his drink.” You urged your boyfriend as he handed you the white claw, hesitantly taking it as you felt everyone’s eyes on you.

“It’s fine, baby, he’s gonna have a beer. Enjoy your drink.” jj assured you, leaning down to give you a small kiss before grabbing pope a beer from the cooler.

You looked over at Pope again for any signs of him being upset, but he was laughing, taking the beer jj handed him, but not before giving him a playful, yet still hard, smack on the arm.

“Pussy whipped.” John b ‘coughed’ once jj sat back down next to you, causing your cheeks to heat and flash him a small smile.

“Shut the fuck up, John b.” jj muttered, pulling your legs back onto his lap.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for venting to my friend about my fiancée?

I (24M) have been with my fiancée (26NB) for about 3 years now. I try to avoid venting to my friends about it when I’m having little relationship annoyances because I used to do that for a while and it ended up with them just getting a horrible image of her because when good things happen that make me happy I would be responding IRL with my fiancée or gushing about it publicly e.g. on Twitter which most of my friends don’t use, vs when bad things happened I’d go to them to vent directly so they were only seeing the shitty moments. They would just always tell me she sucked or to break up with her which just wore on me because I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t think I need to. Our relationship is super affectionate, has helped me massively in improving mentally and socially and in my confidence, makes me genuinely happy, and is for the most part, with certain problems we’ve been working on aside, healthy.

It’s not a communication issue or anything, I’ll address any issues with my fiancée directly as well and we’ll resolve it between us, just sometimes I’d feel the need to vent out my upset first while calming down or talking through what to say to her before I brought it up etc.

However this changed recently. my fiancée has always been a very physical person, she’s cuddly and loves kisses and just general touching, and that also translates into her playfully hitting me a lot, which I’ll do as well. Smacking each other on the ass when we pass each other, jokingly hitting each other’s arms (gently) when we’re making fun of each other, stuff like that. Very occasionally this will bother me (the other day she pinched my face hard enough that it hurt for like 20mins afterwards) but for the most part I genuinely could not care less and I take it as all in good fun.

She has never hit me in anger before, until today. She was playing a video game and died, and I laughed while sitting next to her when I saw it, and she just turned around and hit me full force. Like, harder than she’s ever hit before, and causing genuine pain. Usually I would just brush it off because like I said she hits me in a joking way a lot, but when I kind of gave a startled “ow” she just looked at me and hissed “Don’t laugh” through her teeth and she looked genuinely pissed off, and the force behind the hit just caught me completely off guard. It was also very very sudden because we’d been talking normally and light-heartedly, had even been cuddling a few minutes before, and although she was pretty clearly exasperated at the game (sighing, saying “oh my god” when the fight was going downhill) I didn’t think it was serious anger, so her abruptly whipping around and hitting me like that was so sudden and whiplashy I didn’t even have time to register it.

I have PTSD (C-PTSD? don’t remember what the specific diagnosis was) from my last relationship which was abusive in pretty much every way you can think of, and one of my biggest triggers that has been relevant in this relationship as a result of it is raised voices/anger around me (not necessarily At me, just like when my fiancée is getting frustrated or stressed and she’ll start hitting her keyboard or shouting and it’ll make me start panicking), but this is the first time I’ve had to confront being triggered by a physical violence thing. I started dissociating like hell so I left the room when she was distracted by the game and ended up slipping out of the house to call one of my best friends via Discord and lowkey cry about it

I genuinely don’t really remember what I said, the gist was just that I’d been triggered by my fiancée hitting me in anger and that I needed to calm down before I went back. This may have been a dick move because this friend is a mutual friend of me and my fiancée - I knew her first and am closer to her, but she recently met my fiancée in person for the first time and they seemed to get along well, and we’re in several servers and stuff together.

After I was done I went back in and my fiancée apologised for hitting me so hard. I said thank you and we moved on

But afterwards she confronted me because my friend had sent me a message after that basically just checking in on me and my fiancée had seen the message on my laptop that she was using to game. I usually have my Discord on Do Not Disturb when she’s using my computer just so she’s not bothered by notifications beeping at her constantly so I’m not sure if it wasn’t on for some reason and it popped up on-screen or if she minimised the game and saw it somehow, but she was incredibly upset with me because she said I’d made her out to sound physically abusive. I did explain that I’d made clear to the friend she’d never seriously hit before this, but she said that didn’t matter because it was still giving off that impression and that it was unfair because her hitting me was done in a moment of frustration/anger and I shouldn’t have laughed at the game.

I apologised and we dropped it but I do notice that since then she’s been on my computer/phone more often and she’s slid into a few of my friends’ (and I mean My friends, not ones she talks to or knows and not ones I’d said anything about this to) asking if I’ve ever spoken about her and if she can give her side of the story. My friends came straight to me about it because they felt uncomfortable with what they saw as being prompted to talk about me behind my back.

Reasons I don’t think I’m TA: She hit me, and I know she vents about me to her friends too, and although it does bother me that her friends don’t like me because of it (for I assume much the same reason some of mine don’t like her for, AKA only hearing about negative stuff) I’ve always maintained she has the right to do it. I think everyone should be able to vent to friends about partners or family and vice versa in private because venting is normal and as long as it’s not dishonest or just pure shit-talking them I think it can be helpful and even healthy.

Reasons I think I might be TA: I went to a mutual friend so she also has something to lose if this friend forms a negative opinion of her, I laughed at her dying in the game even though I know she gets incredibly frustrated and competitive in games, and I’ve never had an issue with her hitting me more playfully before so she may have just misjudged how hard it was.

So AITA for telling my friend my fiancée hit me / getting so upset about it or is it just PTSD acting up and making me overdramatise something that is basically on the same level as the joke hitting?

What are these acronyms?

[thecapricunt1616]

Thinking about College Lip again, genuinely ever since @mouseymilkovich came on the scene I’ve been once again shameless obsessed (Thank you mouse🐁 we say in unison)

TLDR: Once again I haven’t been able to watch shameless in a moment - this is all from my memory & tik tok clips & edits I’ve been obsessively watching that I think lip acts. If it’s not perfectly canon, I’m sorry! Feedback is always greatly appreciated but try to keep it kindly constructive as I’m just a girl in the world already having a hard time and writing is my outlet so - I love feedback and constructive criticism but don’t just say something like “wow that part made me cringe” without adding how I should make it better or something. Sorry for rambling & thank you for listening if you did.

But I’m thinking how pissed he would be if you were good friends/fuck buddies, and he found out that a professor was being creepy with you

(Warnings for BTC: Creepy teachers (power imbalance), Mentions of sexual harassment, Angry!Lip, Drunk Lip )

Okay so I imagine you’re sitting in his dorm one day, talking about the weirdest things that have happened in college. Lip had told you he had fucked one of his professors but called it off, and you laughed -

“No fucking way!!! Professor Simmons literally held me back after class one day and told me if I wanted a better grade on my last essay I could suck his dick!” Shaking your head at the stupid memory and taking a swig of lukewarm beer he had given you hours ago.

“Wait- huh?” He asked, tone now much more serious. You just shrugged, smile fading a bit. Suddenly you felt almost…judged? By the way his lips curled into a bit of a frown when you said that, his brows knitting together in that classic Lip way, ever angry. You’d teased him that he reminded you of the ‘Anger Emotion’ from inside out that you’d taken him to see with Liam over spring break.

“I- I didn’t do it - like- ew!” You laughed nervously, eyes flicking to your lap, cheeks feeling suddenly hot, and your mouth feeling dry. “Hes…so gross- you thought I would like- do that?!” You asked defensively.

“No- what the fuck? Why the fuck would I be questioning you?! That motherfucker is- is married, Tink! And old as fuckin’ dirt!” His voice raises slightly to drive his point home. The use of that nickname, Tink, short for Tinkerbell. He had started calling you it after you wore a dark green mini skirt and brown turtleneck to class one day, the name was quite perfect for you considering your small stature and affinity for short skirts like the cartoon fairy.

You shrugged, picking at your nails and nibbling on the inside of your lip. “I didn’t let ‘em touch me- only you do that. “ you muttered, feeling embarrassed and small now that you felt as if you’d made him worry after you, like he didn’t think you could take care of yourself. He grabbed your chin, making you look at him - his glazed over eyes told you he’d already finished his 7th beer without even having to look at the nightstand.

“Good- cause if he did?” He said softly “I’d fuckin kill em” he assured you, brushing his thumb over your cheek, before pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed softly, nuzzling your face in his neck and inhaling the scent of his spicy cologne, and the stale smell of Marlboro cigarettes that stuck to his skin and clothes permanently. “M’sorry- didn’t mean to make you upset” you said gently, wrapping your leg around his frame and gently kissing his tanned skin, even though he was staunchly Irish - summer did the gallaghers well, maybe not Ian, or Debbie- or, Frannie… but the rest of them, sure.

“What did I say about the sorrys, kid?” He squeezes your ass firmly, before giving you a light spank that caused you to giggle a bit.

“Ok! Ok I’m not sorry, s-“ you stop yourself and he looks down at you with a smirk to which you scrunch your nose and smile big “soooooo not sorry “ you correct yourself and he chuckled, shaking his head and grabbing his beer, finishing it off.

The next time you heard from Lip was the following night, at 4 am. On an unknown number. You woke up in your dorm to your phone ringing and didn’t even bother looking at the name before sliding it to answer, knowing no one in their right mind that didn’t know you would call you so late. “Yeah?” You said groggily into the phone.

“Heyyyyy, Tinker” Lip said into the phone and that woke you up fully.

“Lip- what’s wrong?” You said concerned, knowing he would never be calling you so late unless he was in some kind of trouble.

“I uhhh” he slurred, obviously drunk. “I think I got myself expelled? Dunno…can you pick me up? Just go to my house- tell Fiona I’m locked up. I need 800- she’s gonna give it to you. Make sure you take Ian with you I don’t want you gettin robbed- tell er’ T’take it from the squirrel fund- been stockin’ it f’this shit just in case. ” he explained, of course breaking to hiccup drunkenly.

You quickly stood, pulling sweatpants over your spandex shorts and pulling a hoodie on. “What did you do?! Lip! What the hell how will I survive Trig without you!” You said worriedly, putting on your messenger bag quickly and holding tour pepper spray in one hand ready to pull as you rushed out the door.

“I dunno!! I’ll tutor you, Tink! Just come get me. M’stuck with this guy that smells like a fuckin sewer.” He groaned.

“Of course I’m coming! I’ll see you soon - don’t get yourself shanked!” You hung up, frustratedly beginning your walk to the L

You were shivering by the time you were pounding on the Gallaghers door, finally Fiona opens the door “WHAT?! WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!” She screamed on her way down the stairs, and when she opened the door to see you shivering there in a hoodie and sweatpants in the 30 degree fall weather her expression softened.

“What’s wrong with Lip?” She asked, pulling you inside and grabbing a blanket “Jesus- Tink! Your lips are nearly fuckin blue!” She wrapped you up, taking your trembling hands and pulling them to her lips, warming your icy fingers with her warm breath.

“He- he’s in jail? I think? He said s-something about a fund, squirrel fund? Bail is 800 and he said to- to take Ian so I don’t get robbed for it.” You stuttered due to your teeth chattering, and being catcalled and followed for 2 blocks on your walk to their house.

“Okay- yeah. Fuck. What did he say he did?” She tugs you to the kitchen, pulling an old Twinkie box from under the sink and pulling out a huge wad of cash, beginning to count out $800. Your eyes widened, shrugging and mouth dropping as she shoves it into an old IRS ‘OPEN IMMEDIATELY’ envelope before folding it in half and shoving it in her bra and screaming

“IANNNNNNNNN! IAN! GET UP!! YOUR BROTHER IS IN JAIL!”

You flinched a bit at her sudden outburst, and there is pounding footsteps down the stairs “what did he do?” The redhead asks and Fiona shrugs

“What the fuck did he do, Tink?!” Fiona asks again and you shrugged quickly, shaking your head confused

“He- he said he was gonna be expelled?! I don’t know- I- he just- he called and said to come here and that Ian could protect me- and- and he gets really angry I don’t want him to be angry if you come with us-“

She cuts you off and holds her hand up

“He’s not gonna take it out on you he fuckin knows me. Ian go tell Debbie to watch Liam. I need to find fucking pants” she muttered heading over to the large laundry pile on the kitchen floor and digging through it as Ian raced back upstairs to do what he had been instructed.

Fiona thankfully drove you 3 to the police station, thankful for a warm car instead of taking the late night train. When you got inside the station, she thankfully took over.

“Gallagher? Phillip- Lip- Lip Gallagher- here-“ she drops the envelope in the little box that went behind the window. The woman looks at the three of us, then the envelope, then the computer.

“Phillip?” She repeated, unenthused and Fiona nodded quickly. “That’ll be 800, I’m assuming -“ she picked up the crinkled, (slightly sweat damp envelope) that Fiona had tossed into the box “this-“ she holds it up by her bright red acrylic nails like it was diseased

“S’all there!” Fiona nods and smiles kindly, likely hoping her kind demeanor would cause the woman to take pity on us.

“Let me just- count this” the woman opened her drawer, pulling out a pair of black latex gloves and snapping them over her hands before pulling the envelope open and counting out the cash, popping it in the drawer and printing a ticket. “RON!!!” She screeched.

An overweight, brunette man is startled awake behind her sitting in a rolling chair and jumping slightly when he was called. “Huh?! I’m awake!” He barked defensively. Ian and I look at eachother, with a ‘are they fucking kidding?!’ Look

“Gallagher! Paid bail. Cut ‘em” she said and went back to scrolling on Facebook.

You followed the large man when he beckoned you all, back to a cell where Lip was curled up to himself on the bench, arms crossed over his tummy and head to his knees protectively while he dozed.

“GALLAGHER!” The man barks, causing Lip to jump with a startled snore. When he saw you his expression softened, jumping up and rushing to the bars, reaching for you. You gave him a hug as the oaf got the cell unlocked.

“Quit scarin’ me like this, Lip” you mumbled into his greasy cigarette stale curls.

You got Lip back to the Gallagher house, helping him up the stairs to his room and setting him on the bed. He was utterly exhausted, nearly so drunk he was passed out. So you went down to the kitchen, and made him a double pack of beef ramen and came back upstairs, giving it to him to eat and distract him while you tended to his wounds.

He nearly burnt a hole in his throat wolfing it down, hissing and trying to swat your hands away when you cleaned the beer bottle glass from the gash In his forehead. Through mumbles and coaxing kisses you’d found that he hunted down the same Professor Simmons that beckoned you for a blowie in turn for a better grade - and nearly beat him to death.

After he’d told his wife what he did- she begged him that if they didn’t press charges- she wouldn’t go to the police for the assault and Lip agreed. As awful as it was to have your somewhat situationship bleeding in front of you - it made your clit throb slightly that he went out of his way and nearly ruined his life in your honor. Like some kind of fucking knight in shining Armour.

The next morning, lip woke up to yet another throbbing headache, atop of a dislocated nose, and a nearly bitten through tongue that made him wince when he barely even swallowed. “Open” you beckon gently, already having been awake for hours, changing his bandages and ever-so carefully tending to his wounds.

He doesn’t even try to open his bruised black eye, not even caring to know what happened to him and weakly opens his mouth.

“You gotta learn when to call it quits, Gallagher” you said gently as you placed 3 extra strength Tylenol on his tongue and gave him a mouthful of water to swallow it down.

A/N P2: I know this isn’t my usual MO? I am sorry haha. I wanted to try writing something sweet and angsty. Sorry I just wanted to try something new! LMK if you liked it, xoxo- Capri ❤️

[thehighladywrites]

— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”

☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader

☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.

☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises

☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹

tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04

Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.

He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.

Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.

Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.

Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.

There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.

Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.

“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”

Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.

“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”

His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.

“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”

“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”

Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.

He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.

“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.

“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.

The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.

“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.

Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.

But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.

But damn, he was persistent.

Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.

“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.

Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.

He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,

“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”

He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.

“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.

Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,

“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”

"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."

Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.

He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”

His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.

You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.

Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.

Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.

Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.

Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.

Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,

“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I want your hands.”

You kissed his other cheek.

“ I want you inside me, mate. “

You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.

Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.

A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.

‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.

Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.

His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.

You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.

You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.

“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.

Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.

“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”

You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”

He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.

Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.

Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.

“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”

As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.

“Delicious.”

Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.

He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.

“Can I repay you Azzie?”

Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.

He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.

“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”

But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.

Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.

Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.

You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.

Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,

“Play later.”

You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.

His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”

“You’re doing so good, keep going.”

“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.

By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible. 

The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.

Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.

“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”

“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”

“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”

Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.

“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”

Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.

Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.

Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.

“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.

“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.

You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.

Oh, how you loved him.

In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.

“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.

The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.

[glade-constellation]

Man, I really feel like today’s LAES episode was an agreement to my character analysis post (not literally but all my points were there). Everything Earth talked about and explained was my exact feelings on the matter. Sun is in immense grief. Moon was doing nothing. Lunar is doing worse than nothing. Solar is the only other competent one in the situation, and he’s also probably feeling like shit.

It’s so upsetting when Earth is hurt because people never ask her if she’s okay unless she brings it up. Solar was the only one to ask so far. He only left her when she told him she would talk with Monty about it, and expressed she would feel guilt about putting her problems on him when he is going through his own. She is always placed on the back burner and is rarely ever comforted outside of when she asks for it.

I almost feel bad for saying she was going to be the best off in this situation because she very much isn’t. She is grieving too, but she’s having to pick up where Moon and Lunar are slacking off and doesn’t have time to process her feelings herself. She expressed several times how upsetting it was that she has barely any help taking care of Dazzle on top of her own work. She’s also had to pick up their slack at the Daycare, since Sun can’t come in and Lunar isn’t actually the best at his job by himself. She needs someone to help her right now, and I’m so glad Monty was able to step in and help. It made my opinion his reaction to all this change very quickly.

Her feelings on the matter are also just heartbreaking. She cares so much for Nexus, and any time she tried to express it Lunar would brush it off. Tell her that he didn’t care about Nexus. That, in a way, probably felt like he was telling Earth “I don’t care about your problems because they don’t interest me”. Stuff like that alongside his already spiraling relationship with her is causing a riff she doesn’t need right now. It’s something she simply can’t deal with on top of literally everything else.

Since this episode was set before Moon started helping, I am glad that Moon finally did help. But Lunar is still dragging his feet on this whole thing. “He wasn’t my brother, I was never close to him, I genuinely don’t care”. Then he’s all surprised when Sun was genuinely upset over Nexus’ death. Like he’s projecting his feeling onto everyone else. He didn’t care, so why does Sun? Every episode I watch leads me to believe more and more that Lunar’s entire sense of being is being changed by this Star power. Even if he is an animatronic, he still used to act very human. After the Astrals entered the picture though, he has slowly began to act more like them. Hearing that Earth feels the same way really validated my feelings on this. Literally used the word apathetic, like I did in my earlier character analysis post.

All in all, I am desperately waiting for Earth to get the help and time she needs. Because I do not want to watch her try and bottle this all up. I am so very thankful that Monty is willing to help her and that she has an outlet. If Monty wasn’t there, I think Earth might have eventually snapped. I don’t think that outcome would have been pretty, especially between herself and Lunar.

[gaymaramada]

Rise! Boys reacting to S/O using their full name:

Y’all know that tiktok trend where ppl were calling their partners by their first name? This is basically that.

Leonardo

He’s definitely caught off guard, physically recoiling when you say it, “Whoa?? Government name??”

He makes a few jokes about it but inside he’s genuinely nervous that you’re mad at him.

When you don’t stop, he immediately assumes he did something to upset you and begins to defend himself.

“Look, I know I’ve had to cancel our last few dates, but these villains are getting crazy! I’m not trying to avoid you, I just— how about we do something tonight, yeah? I promise I won’t flake out, okay?”

Is low key on his knees begging for you to forgive him.

He doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for, poor thing.

He’s extra sweet to you for the rest of the day, going out of his way to compliment you, ask how you’re doing, care for you—

You two are out and he breaks into a full sprint to open a door for you that you won’t reach for another three minutes.

When you eventually explain it was just a trend, he gets super embarrassed but tries to brush it off.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I knew that. I was just playing along for the joke, heh. Duh.”

Donatello

Uh, no. He must have misheard you.

He does a full 180 at his workbench and all but yanks his goggles off his eyes, “Pardon, what did you just call me?”

He’s almost offended because that is not his name when you two are alone.

Hell, it’s not even his name when you’re not alone — it’s just Donnie.

He immediately abandons whatever he’s working on and starts typing up a list of all the pet names you two use with each other.

“As you are already aware, my terms of endearment tend to range from ‘dear’ to ‘darling’ to ‘my love’ in the majority of our interactions.”

“You often refer to me as ‘D’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and — my personal favorite — ‘Einstein’. Never once in the length of our relationship have you ever called me by my full name.”

He’s petty about it because, in truth, he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.

It’s just his name.

But something about the way you say it so casually just feels very wrong.

When you tell him about the trend, he’s even more perplexed.

“What kind of ‘trend’ is that? That is the lamest idea I’ve ever heard of. Please, for the sake of both our sanities, just call me Donnie.”

“… or Einstein. That’s good, too.”

Raphael

Oh, he is immediately worried and it shows, “Are you okay? Did… did I do something?”

The two of you use pet names religiously, so hearing you say all three syllables of his name is jarring.

He’ll ask you if there’s anything he can do for you and give you space when he thinks you need it.

Which would be very sweet if you were actually upset, but you’re not.

He misses being called ‘Raphie’ and ‘bubs’ and ‘sweetheart’.

Eventually he takes your hands and says, “I’m sorry if I made you upset, or if I’m just being dramatic, but… Raph loves you, and he just wants you to remember that.”

And that’s all it takes for you to cave in and tell him about the trend.

“Aw, honey, don’t do that to me! You know I get all worried about that kind of stuff. I’m glad you’re not mad at me, though — I was starting to miss your nicknames.”

“Sorry, bubs,” You say, and his tail is wagging immediately.

Michelangelo

He’s not too phased at first.

Like yes, that’s his name.

But then you keep doing it and he starts getting confused.

He doesn’t get why you’re doing it but he won’t stop you.

He does get a bit self-conscious after a bit, though, when it’s the only thing you call him.

He tries to subtly guide you into using nicknames throughout the day.

“Don’t worry, Mikey’s got it!”

“Hey, there you are! Your loving sweet potato made you some lunch!”

“Aw, come on Y/N! Could you say no to this cutie pie?”

Eventually, he’s had enough, and you find yourself in a stern confrontation with Dr. Delicate Touch.

When you explain that it’s just a trend, he immediately pulls back.

“Oh! That makes way more sense! I was starting to think you’d just forgotten all my pet names, or something!”

[corpseidol]

hiii!! I just recently found out abt ur blog and I really really love your works sm like omg ugshhdhdh

anywhoo is it okay to request sbg x reader who acts like regina george? its been bothering my mind lately aaaaa u dont have to write it! hihih tyty i love you take careeee

IT GIRL

author’s note : i love when ppl enjoy my things ilysm /p

concept : regina!reader with the sbg group

genre : headcanons, mean girls!au, drabble

content : might be ooc, reader is an actual bitch, not a single hint of genuine softness

meeting the group

⠀ › ⠀has bullied logan once or twice but then ignored his presence completely after and forgot about him

⠀ › ⠀out of the whole group, logan is unsure of you the most. he can’t tell if being in a group with someone who bullied him before is good since you have seemed to forget who he was.

⠀ › ⠀tyler knows your reputation and is bothered by your presence honestly

⠀ › ⠀ashlyn has never heard of you; never had connections so she doesn’t know you that well but was bothered with your first impression

⠀ › ⠀taylor would try to warm up to you but you make her feel so out of place with how flashy you are

⠀ › ⠀ben and aiden don’t know your reputation since they’re new students but when tyler suddenly revealed everything when he started complaining about you; aiden was entertained with your rivalry

sorrel house

⠀ › ⠀you found the random lady who asked you to go inside very.. weird.

⠀ › ⠀only went in because the others said sure, you just had to be nice.

⠀ › ⠀you felt chills down your spine when you saw the phantom but just like tyler, you chose to brush it off.

phantom world

⠀ › ⠀by this time, you still hated them. (you probably shit talked them too)

⠀ › ⠀when you all got locked in the room, you felt panic until you just thought of using them as ‘meat shields’

⠀ › ⠀you and tyler had a whole fight about what matters most in the moment until ashlyn had to break it up

⠀ › ⠀the first time you were put in severe danger, you used the others as an advantage to survive.

⠀ › ⠀however, this caused problems. the next night; you would be in the same place again.

⠀ › ⠀at some point you’d have to apologize. the next time you were put in danger; it was logan near you. the first thing you had to do was.. apologize? are you fucking serious.

⠀ › ⠀due to the panic of the near-death experience, you stammered out an apology and begged him to help (took a few corrections since you were screaming curse words)

general headcanons

⠀ › ⠀when you flex your expensive things, aiden would suddenly bring up something more expensive (it becomes a debate on whos is more expensive. between the two, aiden’s having fun and you’re just getting upset.)

⠀ › ⠀tyler took the longest warming up to you

⠀ › ⠀there would be a lot of times when you would get into fights because of how opinionated you can be.

⠀ › ⠀you’re pretty much forced to be friends with them. it’s ride or die. no matter how much you hate them.

“i can’t do this anymore, i swear to god, i’m so stressed! and stress causes pimples! and restless nights cause eyebags! i’m gonna get eyebags and pimples!” you panicked “now’s not the time to worry about that!” tyler screamed, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the phantom chasing you.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Shattered.

adjective ‘very upset’

in which, your trying to live a normal life as much as you can, but when you bump into the handsome doctor again, and realise he’s got questions, questions that you can’t answer and thats when you realise just how much your longing for that perfect fairy tale ending.

word count - 5.6k

authors note - ahhh!! i’m so sorry that the wait for this chapter has been so long, but i’ve got over my writers block now and am so excited to get back to writing for your guys, before we start i would just like to thank the beautiful @missbearforfun for helping me with this story, i honestly would not have been able to do this without them, so mwah!!

warnings - mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, some mild swearing, corey, and nightmares. (if i’ve missed anything please don’t refrain from letting me know!!)

August 30th, 2022.

As you jogged around the local park, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps echoed against the pavement, accompanied by the familiar melodies of Fleetwood Mac streaming through your headphones. With your water bottle in hand, you embraced the solitude of the early morning, relishing in the peaceful ambiance of the park.

Lost in the music and the rhythm of your steps, you rounded a bend in the path and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. Startled, you stumbled backward, the sudden interruption jolting you out of your reverie. As your headphones slipped slightly, the sound of the stranger's voice broke through the silence.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The voice was accompanied by a concerned expression, and as you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the eyes of a man, who looked just that little bit older to you.

His concern was genuine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

Brushing off the near collision with a sheepish grin, you assured him that you were fine. He lingered for a moment, his easy smile infectious, and before you knew it, you were engaged in conversation.

"Sorry about that, I should've been paying more attention," The man spoke with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"It's okay, no harm done," you replied, returning his smile.

"I'm Corey."

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you replied, returning his smile.

As the conversation continued, Corey's easygoing charm put you at ease.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Yeah, I try to jog here a few times a week. It's a great way to clear my head," you explained, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Corey nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I totally get that. There's something about being outdoors that's really refreshing."

Before parting ways, Corey hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, I know this is perhaps a bit forward, but would you be interested in going for a jog together sometime?"

A smile spread across your face at the invitation.

"I'd like that."

February 4th, 2024.

Standing behind the counter at the cafe where you work, you felt a dull ache resonate through your body with every breath you took in. Corey's words from a few days ago echoed in your mind, urging you to discharge yourself from the hospital, convinced that you were wasting the doctors' time.

Now, as you struggled through the pain, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

He usually was.

Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a practical choice to keep it out of the way as you worked. The familiar routine of wiping down the coffee machine provided a small distraction from the discomfort that gnawed at you.

Despite the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you felt isolated in your pain. Corey's presence loomed large in your mind, his words echoing like a relentless refrain. The memory of what he had done last night weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the simplest of tasks.

"There’s no reason for you to be here," Corey insisted, his voice dripping with irritation. "The doctors have better things to do than waste their time on someone who doesn't need to be here."

You winced as his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nails leaving angry red marks that threatened to break the skin. The pain in your ribs intensified with each shallow breath, a relentless reminder of the trauma you endured.

But Corey's words cut deeper than any physical wound, adding a layer of guilt and self-doubt to your already overwhelming emotions.

"B-but I'm in pain," you protested weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, your stutter more pronounced in the face of his anger.

Corey's impatience only seemed to grow as he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're fine. It's probably just a bruise or something. You don't need to be taking up a hospital bed for that."

As he spoke, you felt a familiar sense of unease settle over you. It wasn't the first time Corey had minimized your pain and dismissed your need for medical attention. With each passing moment, the weight of his words bore down on you, chipping away at your already fragile sense of self-worth.

Despite the doubts that gnawed at you, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if Corey was right. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were wasting the doctors' time. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt and fear, you knew that your pain was real, and that you deserved to be heard.

"Please, Corey," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "I-I need to stay here. I-I need help."

But Corey's patience had worn thin, his frustration boiling over into anger.

"You're being ridiculous," he snapped, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "Get up and leave. Now."

As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. Trapped between the pain in your body and the cruelty of Corey's words, you struggled to find the strength to stand up for yourself.

Just over a year ago, you were looking for a way to get some money into your bank account, and there was this little cafe on a road called Canal Street, that you had noticed was hiring.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you hesitated at the threshold, unsure if you had the courage to step inside. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath and entered, the chime of the bell announcing your arrival.

Inside, you were greeted by the sight of a cozy interior, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Your nerves danced beneath the surface as you approached the counter, where a kind, elderly couple stood, their faces etched with warmth and hospitality.

With hesitant steps, you inquired about the vacant position, your voice barely above a whisper. The woman behind the counter noticed your trembling hands and the uncertainty in your eyes. With a gentle smile, she ushered you to sit down at one of the empty tables, her soft touch calming the jitters that threatened to consume you.

As she reached across to still your shaking hands, her touch was like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

February 6th, 2024.

On this rare sunny day in Manchester, Dr. Styles, known as Harry to his family, strolled leisurely around the duck pond with his six-year-old nephew, Noah.

It was a tradition for Harry to spend Tuesday afternoonswith Noah, (he always picked him up after school and they always did something to tire the young boy out) his designated day off during the week, cherishing these moments of familial connection amidst his demanding schedule.

Thursdays marked his other day of respite, but it was Tuesdays that held a special place in their hearts.

As they ambled along the winding path, Harry watched with fondness as Noah skipped ahead, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of his uncle. The vibrant hues of the surrounding greenery were accentuated by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below.

The tranquil atmosphere of the duck pond enveloped them, the rhythmic quacking of the ducks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Noah's animated chatter filled the air as he regaled Harry with tales of his adventures at school, his innocent enthusiasm infectious.

Harry listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at the boundless imagination and curiosity of his nephew. Despite the demands of his profession, moments like these served as a reminder of the simple joys in life, grounding him in the present and offering solace amidst the chaos of the world.

As they strolled around the duck pond, Noah's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spotted the ducks gliding gracefully across the water.

"Uncle H, can we feed the ducks?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

Harry's heart sank as he realized he had forgotten to bring bread for the ducks. With a sigh, he crouched down to Noah's eye level and explained, "M’sorry, buddy, but I forgot to bring bread today. We can't feed the ducks without any bread."

Noah's face fell, disappointment evident in his expression.

"But I really wanted to feed the ducks," he lamented, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Just as Harry was about to offer consolation, Noah's gaze shifted to an elderly couple sitting on a nearby bench, feeding the ducks slices of bread from a small bag.

"Look, Uncle H, they have bread! Can we ask them for a slice?" Noah exclaimed, his excitement returning at the prospect of feeding the ducks.

Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.

"Noah, buddy, we can't just ask people f’their bread," he began, but before he could finish, Noah was already darting towards the elderly couple, his enthusiasm undeterred.

"Excuse me, can we have some bread to feed the ducks, please? My uncle H forgot!" Noah asked earnestly, his eyes wide with hope as he approached the couple.

The elderly woman smiled kindly at Noah, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

"Of course, dear. Here, take a slice," she said, offering him a piece of bread from the bag.

And just like that Noah was running off towards the water, as Harry kept a watchful eye on the young boy he cared so deeply for.

As Noah happily fed the ducks with the bread he had received from the kind elderly couple, Harry approached them with a grateful smile.

"Thank y’so much f’letting him have some bread. M’sorry about him, he's not shy to ask for anything from anyone," Harry apologized, his tone apologetic yet amused.

The women smiled warmly at Harry's words.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. We're happy to share," she replied kindly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched Noah's delight.

The man who was accompanying her chuckled, his deep voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.

"That's the spirit. Kids have a way of reminding us to embrace life's simple pleasures," he remarked, nodding towards Noah.

Harry found himself drawn into conversation with the couple, their easygoing demeanor putting him at ease.

"M’name's Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Mary, and this is my husband, Barney," Mary replied, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. "We've been coming to this duck pond every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."

Barney nodded in agreement.

"It's become a bit of a tradition for us. We find it's the perfect way to spend our day off together," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.

As they chatted, Harry learned more about Mary and Barney's life together – their love of nature, their shared interests, and the joy they found in the simple pleasures of everyday life. He found himself opening up to them, sharing stories of his own experiences and adventures with Noah.

"There's something special about being out in nature, isn't there? It's good for the soul," Mary remarked, her gaze wandering across the tranquil expanse of the duck pond.

Harry nodded in agreement, a sense of peace settling over him.

"Absolutely. S’moments like these that make life truly meaningful," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Talking to the two of them seemed to stop time, and before he knew it, the sun was already starting to set in the background.

As Harry glanced down at the Apple Watch on his wrist, he realized the time had flown by faster than he had anticipated.

He clapped his hands together, a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Well, I best get going. Noah's got to have his dinner soon."

Mary and Barney nodded understandingly, their faces reflecting the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Just as Harry began to turn away, Mary's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Before you go, young man, I wanted to mention something," Mary said, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Barney and I actually own a café on the corner of Canal Street called Timeless Brews. If you ever find yourself in the area, you're more than welcome to pop by. We'd love to see you."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you, Mary. That's incredibly kind of you," he replied gratefully. "I'll definitely make sure to stop by sometime."

Barney chimed in with a hearty chuckle.

"Consider it an open invitation, Harry. We'd be delighted to have you as our guest," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

As Harry bid farewell to Mary and Barney, a sense of gratitude filled his heart.

In just a short time, he had forged a connection with this kindhearted couple, and he couldn't help but feel touched by their generosity. With a final wave, he turned to Noah, who was already bounding ahead, eager to continue their adventure.

As they walked away from the duck pond, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that lingered in the air. He knew that he had made two new friends today, and he looked forward to the possibility of visiting Timeless Brews and sharing more conversations with Mary and Barney in the future.

From a young age, Harry's fascination with the world of medicine was sparked by a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the tender age of ten, he found himself in the confines of a hospital room, his ankle throbbing with pain after a clumsy fall. As he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by the reassuring presence of doctors and nurses,

Harry knew with unwavering certainty that he wanted to dedicate his life to helping others in the same way they had helped him.

Driven by this newfound sense of purpose, Harry immersed himself in his studies, excelling academically and setting his sights on a future in medicine. At the age of eighteen, his hard work and dedication paid off when he received the news of his acceptance into Oxford University's prestigious Doctor of Medicine program.

With a heart full of ambition and determination, Harry embarked on this new chapter of his life with unwavering resolve.

Over the course of six intense years, Harry immersed himself in the rigors of medical education, delving deep into the intricacies of the human body and honing his skills as a healer.

With each passing year, he grew more confident in his abilities and more passionate about his chosen field, fueled by a relentless desire to make a difference in the lives of others.

Upon graduating from Oxford at the age of twenty-four, Harry's journey had only just begun. Armed with knowledge, experience, and an unyielding commitment to his calling, he eagerly embraced the opportunity to put his skills to the test in the real world.

Eight months later, he found himself walking the halls of The Manchester Royal Infirmary, a newly minted doctor ready to embark on the next phase of his career.

Now, at the age of twenty-six, Harry finds himself living his dream. He's found fulfillment and purpose in his work, relishing the challenges and rewards that come with each day in the hospital.

Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of his professional life, there lingers a quiet longing for something more – the perfect partner to share his journey with.

And then, you walked into the hospital – an ethereal presence that captivated Harry from the moment he laid eyes on you. Though he knows he must maintain a professional demeanor, there's an undeniable pull, a spark of connection that ignites within him at the sight of you.

As he goes about his duties, his thoughts drift to you, everything about you, wondering if fate will bring them together once more.

10th February, 2024.

As Harry's shift at the hospital came to an end, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The late shift, starting at 10:45 pm and ending at 9 am, had been a challenging one.

He had encountered a variety of cases, from a patient with a shard of glass lodged near a femoral artery to a young man suffering from alcohol intoxication who had vomited uncontrollably.

Despite the intensity of these emergencies, Harry had remained calm and composed, providing expert care and ensuring the safety of his patients.

Now, as he made his way out of the hospital, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhaustion creeping in. The long hours had taken their toll, but he knew that his dedication to his profession was unwavering. He looked forward to the weekend ahead, eager to recharge and spend time with loved ones.

As he walked through the hospital corridors, Harry's thoughts turned to his aspirations for advancement within the medical field. He had been diligently working towards a promotion to become the Clinical Lead, a position currently held by Marcus, who was set to retire soon.

Harry knew that achieving this goal would require dedication and perseverance, but he was determined to rise to the challenge.

As Harry made his way towards the exit, he detoured towards the doctor's desk where his colleague Miranda was stationed.

"Hey, M," he greeted her with a tired but friendly smile. "Just wanted t’give y’a heads up about the patient in cubicle five. They're allergic to morphine, but it wasn't in their notes, so be sure to double-check before administering any medication. Oh, and they're booked in for a CT scan at eleven o'clock."

Miranda nodded, her expression attentive as she took note of Harry's instructions.

"Got it, thanks for letting me know, Haz. I'll make sure to handle it," she assured him, her voice calm and confident.

Just as Harry was about to head out, another colleague approached him. It was Mitch, with his signature man bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

Mitch was most definitely one of his best friends, they shared a dorm at Oxford and were lucky enough to both get a job at the same hospital. Mitch was specialised in paediatrics so they hardly saw each other when working but when they did they always had a good time.

They sometimes ate together on there lunch breaks.

"Hey, bud," Mitch greeted him with a grin. "What shifts are you doing tomorrow?"

Harry glanced at his watch before replying,

"I'm on an early. I'll be in f’seven," he answered, his tone weary but determined.

Mitch nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"Early shift, huh? Well, try to get some rest, mate. You've earned it," he said, patting Harry on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Thanks, man. I'll do m’best," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the support from his colleague.

As Harry stepped out of the hospital's exit, the cool morning breeze greeted him, stirring a newfound hunger in his stomach. It had been nearly five hours since his last meal, and the thought of a hearty breakfast was tantalizing. Toast sounded particularly appealing at the moment, simple yet satisfying.

Recalling the conversation he had with the couple at the park the other day, Harry remembered their mention of a cafe they owned nearby. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the possibility of finding a cozy spot to enjoy a meal. The idea of supporting a local business while indulging in some much-needed nourishment appealed to him greatly.

With determination in his stride, Harry made his way to his black Range Rover parked nearby. Slipping behind the wheel, he navigated the bustling streets of Canal Street, the anticipation of discovering a new culinary gem fueling his excitement. Despite the morning rush, he remained focused on his mission, determined to satisfy his hunger with a delicious meal.

After a brief ten-minute drive, Harry finally found a parking space outside the cafe. With a sense of satisfaction, he turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With each step towards the entrance, Harry's anticipation grew, eager to experience what the cafe had to offer.

As Harry entered the cafe, a small bell above the door tinkled lightly, announcing his arrival. He scanned the cozy interior, his eyes immediately landing on an inviting empty table by the window. Making his way over, he settled into the chair, already relishing the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and some toast.

Before he could even glance at the menu, the elderly woman from the park approached his table with a warm smile.

"Well, look who it is! I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she greeted him cheerfully.

Harry returned her smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth in her presence.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted.

The woman beamed with delight.

"Oh, I'm thrilled to hear that! Someone will be with you shortly to take your order. In the meantime, make yourself at home," she said warmly before bustling off to attend to another customer.

Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him in the quaint surroundings of the cafe.

As you stand behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine, Mary, approaches you with a gentle smile.

"Table nine needs to have his order taken," she informs you kindly.

You nod in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your ribs and your lower leg.

Retrieving your notepad and pen from under the counter, you attempt to conceal your limp as you make your way over to table nine.

Approaching the table, you and Harry seem to recognize each other simultaneously.

Both of your eyes widen.

Both your mouths go dry.

You blink a few times, getting yourself out of the daze you seem to be captured in as you muster up a fake smile and ask him what he'd like to order.

Before you can finish your question, Harry interrupts you, his voice filled with concern.

"I wondered what had happened t’you," he admits, his gaze searching yours.

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, though you know exactly what he's referring to.

"Oh, it was nothing serious," you reply casually, hoping to brush off the topic.

But it was.

Harry sighs, his expression filled with sincerity.

"Y’discharged yourself before your X-ray," he points out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You wouldn't have done that. You know doctors are there to help people."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing he's right but unwilling to admit it.

"I didn't want to waste the doctor's time," you murmur, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with your pen.

Harry's brow furrows in concern.

"Every patient is important, Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

He remembers your name?

"Y’shouldn't have discharged yourself. What happened to you?"

You muster up a fake laugh, hoping to deflect his concern.

"Oh, it was nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, though the memories of the past week weigh heavily on your mind. "Just a few bumps and bruises. I'm fine now."

Harry sighs, his expression troubled.

"I was there to help you," he says earnestly, his eyes searching yours. "And I'll always be here to help you. Y’don’t have to go through these things alone.”

Harry's gaze remains fixed on you, his concern evident as he waits for your response.

You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the weight of his words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you say, your voice tinged with reluctance. "But really, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Harry's brow furrows further, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I can see that you're in pain," he observes, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You bite your lip, torn between the urge to confide in him and the instinct to keep your struggles hidden.

"It's just... life, you know?" you reply evasively, hoping to deflect his questions. "Nothing I can't handle."

Harry's gaze softens, his empathy shining through as he reaches out a hand towards yours.

"You don't have to handle everything on y’own, Y/N," he says softly. "Sometimes s’okay to lean on others for support."

You pull away slightly, the walls around your heart growing stronger as you push him away.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you repeat, your voice firmer this time. "But I'm fine. Really."

Harry's expression falls, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he nods in reluctant acceptance.

"Okay," he says quietly, though the disappointment lingers in his voice. "If y’ever need someone to talk to, m’here."

But where would you ever find him?

You shift your focus to the menu in front of you, grateful for the temporary distraction it provides.

"And what can I get for you today?" you ask, forcing a polite smile as you glance up at Harry.

His gaze flickers down to the menu briefly before returning to meet yours.

"Just a black coffee with a tuna panini, please," he replies, his voice calm and composed.

You nod, scribbling down his order on your notepad as you fight to maintain your composure.

"Sure thing," you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your ribs.

With a tight smile, you turn away, doing your best to conceal the slight limp in your step as you make your way back to the counter.

You walk over to the coffee machine, the familiar hum of its machinery offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within you. With practiced efficiency, you begin the process of brewing Harry's black coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as the dark liquid flows into the waiting cup.

As the coffee finishes brewing, you carefully pour it into a ceramic cup, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into your hands. Despite the ache in your ribs and the lingering pain in your leg, you focus on the task at hand, determined to see it through with unwavering precision.

You carefully balance the tray in one hand, holding Harry's black coffee securely as you navigate your way back to his table.

Despite your best efforts to conceal it, the persistent ache in your ribs and the throbbing pain in your leg threaten to betray you with every step.

As you approach Harry's table, your foot catches on an uneven tile, sending you stumbling forward. Your heart races as you fight to regain your balance, but it's too late.

With a sharp crack, the glass mug slips from your grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor in front of you.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the coffee spill across the tiles, the warm liquid mingling with the shards of broken glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods through you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggle to compose yourself.

Harry's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his words a blur as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushes to your side.

You freeze at the sound of his voice, your heart pounding in your chest as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Memories of Corey's anger and violence flood your mind, leaving you trembling in fear.

Harry's hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away instinctively, your body tensing with apprehension.

"Easy, easy," he murmurs softly, his voice gentle as he takes a step closer. "I just want to make sure y’alright."

The sincerity in Harry's words sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you longs to believe him, to surrender to the warmth of his concern and let him chase away the shadows that haunt you.

But another part, hardened by years of trauma, recoils from his touch, wary of the vulnerability that comes with trust.

Struggling to find your voice amidst the turmoil raging within you, you take a shaky step back, your gaze darting nervously around the room.

"I'm... I'm fine," you manage to choke out, though the words taste like ash on your tongue.

Harry's expression softens, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he takes in your trembling form.

"Y’don't look fine," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let me help you."

The sincerity in Harry's voice is like a lifeline in the darkness, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. But the walls you've built around your heart remain steadfast, the fear of vulnerability too great to overcome.

With a heavy heart, Harry watches as you push yourself to your feet and bolt towards the back of the cafe, disappearing from sight before he can reach out to stop you.

Left standing amidst the wreckage, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he's let you slip through his fingers once again. But deep down, he knows that he won't give up on you, not when there's still a chance to break through the walls that surround your wounded heart.

He flickers his eyes up, and catches the eyes of Barney, but the elderly man just casts his eyes back down to the floor.

As you reach the relative safety of the back room, you lean against the wall, gasping for breath as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears, a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurks within you, threatening to swallow you whole.

LATER THAT NIGHT….

Corey storms into the room, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shrink back against the headboard, clutching your book tightly to your chest.

"Why isn't there any food on the table?" Corey's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, his tone sharp with frustration.

You stutter out a feeble excuse, explaining that you only just got home from work and haven't had time to cook anything.

"But... I was thinking... maybe we could order takeout?" you offer tentatively, your voice trembling with apprehension.

The suggestion only seems to fuel his rage further.

"You know I don't like eating fast food," he snaps, his voice laced with contempt as he strides towards you.

Without warning, he grabs your hair, wrenching your head back to meet his furious gaze.

Panic courses through you as you struggle to find your voice, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

"There's... there's not much food in the house," you stammer, your words barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

You hadn’t had time to go shopping today.

Corey's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your scalp as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're so useless," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.

"Fat, lazy, good-for-nothing..."

The room spins as Corey's tirade continues, his insults cutting deeper with each passing moment.

Desperate to escape, you try to push him away, but his grip only tightens, trapping you in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape.

Suddenly, with a violent outburst, Corey grabs the lamp from the bedside table and hurls it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

Tears blur your vision as you shrink back against the bed, utterly petrified by the display of his rage.

As Corey advances towards you with a fiery rage burning in his eyes, you scramble to your feet, desperately trying to evade his grasp.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to slip past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you bolt towards the stairs.

But just as you reach the top step, Corey's hand snags your arm, wrenching you around with a brutal force that sends you reeling.

"How dare you run away from me?" he hisses, his breath hot against your face as flecks of spit land on your skin. "You should never turn your back on your boyfriend."

Terror courses through you as you try to reason with him, your voice trembling with fear.

"Corey, please... You're hurting me," you manage to stammer, but your words fall on deaf ears.

Corey's laughter cuts through the air like a knife, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement.

"Hurting you?" he mocks, his voice dripping with disdain.

"This isn't hurting you, sweetheart. This is."

And with a sudden shove, he sends you tumbling down the stairs, your body crashing against the unforgiving steps with a sickening thud.

Agony radiates through every fiber of your being as you lie at the bottom of the staircase, your ribs screaming in protest with each labored breath.

Tears blur your vision as you curl into a ball, the weight of Corey's betrayal crushing down upon you like a suffocating weight.

With a gasp, you jolt awake from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to escape the confines of your ribcage.

The events that caused you to head to the hospital in the first place continuously running through your head leading to sleepless night after sleepless night.

Beads of sweat cling to your forehead, your hair damp and tangled against your skin, as the remnants of the horrifying dream linger in your mind like a haunting specter.

As you turn to your left, the empty space beside you serves as a stark reminder of Corey's absence. The sinking realization settles in that he's likely out drinking again, his drunken antics and volatile behavior a constant source of fear and uncertainty in your life.

Gazing out of the window, you're met with the sight of a full moon casting an eerie glow over the world below. Its ethereal light illuminates the darkness, casting long shadows that seem to dance with malevolent intent.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you ponder the endless cycle of fear and despair that has become your reality.

How much longer will you have to endure this nightmare?

tag list: @fictionalmensblog @hermionelove @angel32112233 @moneybaby07 @hannah9921 @definegirlfriendsx

[cocogrrrl]

who are you?

while you're on a date with your boyfriend, when a girl comes up claiming that she's his boyfriend. (requested!)

main three (separate) x gn!reader cw: fear of being cheated on/replaced for two, yn being called a whore + sleaze wc: 2046 for all

an: my first request!!!!!! >▿< i hope this suffices! also stan's is a lot more light hearted than kenny and kyle's huhu

🍀 k. broflovski (wc: 679)

You were out on a park date with Kyle. The two of you were propped up against a tree, with your body loosely leaning on his as well. You buried yourself further into him, your lips humming against his neck.

He seemed to find the action ticklish, brushing you off of his shoulder by gently holding your head up by the chin as if you were just as delicate as porcelain. He stared at you, and you could tell that it seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you. 

“I love-” you whispered against his lips, right before being cut off by a foreign voice off in the distance.

“Who are you?” A random girl spat out right in front of you. Kyle immediately let go of your chin, both of you sharing a confused look before looking back at her.

Kyle was the first one to answer. “What do you mean?” He asked, turning his head at the girl. 

“Huuhhhh!? You’re my boyfriend, duh! Why are you hanging out with… that?” She said. Immediately, your head whipped towards Kyle’s direction, eyes pleading to confirm or deny that what she said was true.

“Look,” he sighed, closing his eyes—an action you’ve come to familiarize yourself with whenever he got upset or angered. Hopefully, he hasn’t been lying to you, right? I mean, he does seem genuine, but…god. “I have no idea who you are or what you’re trying to do. Can you just leave us alone?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what a two-timing dick would say!”

“I think you’re looking for the wrong guy. I’m not whoever your boyfriend is.”

“Yes, you are! You’re,” she took a short pause. “...Brad.” She said with full conviction. It felt almost as if a thunderstorm swept itself off your shoulder. You released the biggest sigh you must’ve let out in your life. “And I can’t believe you’re cheating on me! With someone less hotter than me, not to mention.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my partner like that!” Now he snapped, pulling you close to him. “Just cut whatever the fuck you’re trying to do. You got the wrong name anyway!”

She stared at him in shock and disbelief, her jaw dropping on the floor. She turned around, probably to walk away now, but before she did, she leaned into you. “Watch out for that son of a bitch.” She said, walking away right after.

“I’m sorry,” he let out an exasperated sigh, holding your body up as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Gah, I feel so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” you cooed, patting his head. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but I,” he mumbled, his frustration making him grip onto you a little tighter. “Agh, thank you.” He raised his head, smiling at you. “I hope you weren’t super worried or anything.”

“I kinda was…” You pouted. “It’s not your fault or anything! I know you're better than that. My mind just started jumping to conclusions faster than I could stop it. Sorry.”

“No, no,” he said, removing his hands wrapped around you to lift your head, making you make eye contact with him. “I understand.”

“Thank you, Kyle, especially for when you were defending me earlier.” You hummed, leaning into his touch.

“Thank you too, YN, for not storming out or anything.” He laughed. “You were about to say something earlier, right? Before that whole thing happened?”

Your mind snapped back to earlier, and you quickly nodded. “It was nothing.”

“No, I wanna hear it.” He smiled. 

“Ah, well,” you nervously mumbled against his hand. “I just wanted to say I love you…” Your words came up more muffled than remotely discernable, to which Kyle found himself giggling.

“What?”

You raised your head from his hand, dragging your lips right next to Kyle’s—the same position you two were in a few moments ago. “I just wanted to say I love you.” You whispered, all breathy.

“I love you too.” He giggled, nudging his nose into yours as he briefly closed the gap.

🍁 k. mccormick (wc: 755)

Traveling through the streets with Kenny, your arms were intertwined—swinging as you two circled around the town. You two shared your headphones. The sun shone but hid within the cloud, so you two weren’t burning right now. If anything, the lush breeze of cold winds blew against you two and made everything cold for you.

Suddenly, something stopped the two of you dead in your tracks.

“Who are you?” A girl spoke up, making you two put your little walk on pause. “And what are you doing with my boyfriend?” Quickly, your head jolted towards Kenny’s, who gave you a look just as shocked as yours.

Now, your relationship with him was still awfully fresh. Before this, he often went from girl to girl. He never really was confirmed to have dated two people at once, but he was a heartthrob amongst most, nonetheless. You worried, like any other rational person. What if he was really two-timing you two?

You turned back to look at her, mumbling out a nervous “I don’t know?” You didn’t notice it at first, but you let go of his hand, your concerns quickly getting the better of you.

“Well, he is my boyfriend, and I think you’re just being used by him.” She said, pushing you off to the side as she hugged Kenny’s arms like a koala—who pushed her off of him immediately. 

“Kenny, is this true?” You looked at him, maintaining a farther distance from him. You were worried, maybe a little insecure too. Those attributes were playing themselves to the maximum right now.

“God, of course not!” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and walking over to grab you by the sides of your arms. You flinched and took a few steps behind. “YN. I’d never do a thing like that. I understand you’re worried, given everything about me before, but I promise.”

“How can I be sure of that?” You looked worriedly at him, then back at the girl who had a smug grin on her face. 

“Because I like you,” he breathed out. “I like you a whole lot.” He smiled at you, not daring to move any closer for fear it would make you uncomfortable. “And because I have no fuckin’ idea who this girl is.” For a split second, you felt like you could completely trust him again like he was being genuinely honest. For a split second, just his gaze cured you of all your worries.

The girl spoke up once more. “What? I’m your girlfriend!” Just like that, your fears snapped back as fast as they left. You stood there frozen, watching what Kenny would say next.

“Look, girl, I really don’t know who you are.” Kenny rolled his eyes, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck to relieve some tension. “So unless you got some hard proof that we’ve hooked up before, like texts or pictures or somethin’, YN is my partner as far as I’m concerned.”

She scoffed in reply, but she remained silent. Seems like she was stirring up some trouble all for nothing then. “I… I don’t, but I can’t believe you’re sleeping around with some sleaze!”

He walked up to her, pressing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Now, you don’t talk to my partner like that, yeah? You know as much about me as I know as much about you—which is none. Stop prying yourself here. It’s fucking embarrassing and you’re only humiliating yourself.” He turned her body away from his direction, giving her a little push. He pulled you and lead you into the opposite direction she was facing.

“Are you okay?” Kenny asked, wrapping his arm around you.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry for that. I’d never do that to you, you know?” He cooed, playing with your hair with the arm around you.

“I know, I know, but that had me completely worried for a second—if I’m being honest and all.”

“I get why. I can’t say I blame you. I mean, I’d be as worried as you were if I were in the same position.” You found him resting his head on yours as well. “But, I just hope you know that ever since we got together, I’ve completely changed from that side of me. I really like you a lot, and I just can’t bare the thought of losing you because of something stupid like that.”

“Ken?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you, Kenny. I like you a lot too.”

🎸 s. marsh (wc: 612)

You and Stan were by a bar, mindlessly chatting as you two were mindlessly drinking. The atmosphere was crowded and busy. Though it would be overwhelming, especially adding onto the strong scents of alcohol and sweat, you’ve learned how to tune those things out as best as you could.

Stan was currently talking about what he and his best friend Kyle were up to earlier, you gazing deeply at him—forgetting to pay attention, even. “Yeah, and then Kyle was all angry all of a sudden. I get it, though, but like-”

A whiny, near-shrill voice caught both of your attention. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She sighed, taking a seat right next to him, hugging his arm.

Needless to say, Stan had a bothered look, pulling his arm away from her as he faced back to you, mouthing a ‘Who is she?’ at you. You shrugged.

To be honest, you were pretty sure that Stan hasn’t been seeing other people. I mean, he spent most of his time either with you, Kyle, or at work. He work alongside Kyle, and you trusted his friend, so you were sure you would’ve heard something already if he was doing something like that.

The girl behind scoffed. “Oh, my god! You’re so embarrassed. Why did you do that to me? Your girlfriend? Hellooooo?” She yelled amongst all the noise, waving a hand in front of his face.

Stan rolled his eyes, pinching his nose. “Dude, look,” he sighed, turning his direction towards her. “I only talk to, like, five people a day, max—and that includes my parents. I don’t know what your deal is, but I literally have no idea who you are.” He replied blankly but at the same volume.

“You’re only saying that because you're with some trashy whore you found on the street. You’re too nice to hurt her feelings.” She sneered, glaring at you deeply. You weren’t hurt by her comment, you were better than that, but you did find her really funny.

“Don’t say that. That’s my actual partner.” He shook his head, rubbing the sides of it to cool himself down. “We’ve been together for a year now. You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“But I am your girlfriend!” She pouted, landing a fist on the table.

“Don’t think so.” He hummed nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink.

“You’re so annoying! I’m breaking up with you.”

“Wow. I’m so hurt.” He replied sarcastically, tapping his foot and resting his head on the palm of his hand as he waited for the exchange to be over.

“Ugh, don’t come crying saying you regret you did!” She cried, pushing him as she got out of the place, making a beeline towards the door underneath the luminous ‘exit’ sign.

“Uhuh, ‘kay. Buh-bye.” He said, double-checking if she was actually gone. A few moments after she was gone, you burst into a laugh. Stan rolled his eyes at first but found himself joining you as well—with him even ending up banging on the table.

“What exactly just was that?” You exhaled, catching a breath as you wiped away a tear from your laughs.

“No idea. Fuckin’ weak, though, babe,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face as he tucked the strands behind your ears. “You’re okay, though, right? I’m sure you are. I’m just checking up on you if-”

“Stan, I’m fine. I trust you.” You giggled, pressing a peck on his cheek. “Especially because you had the balls to admit that the only people you talk to, other than Kyle and me, are your parents.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Shut up. Oh, my god.”

[foreverisntenough]

Don’t mind me, just imagining Teddy hyping up Trent for the match by telling him “go daddy!” Or “daddy is the best” or doing that thing where kids are unaware of what they say and telling him she’ll play with him to help him 🥺

🥺🥺🥺

Yeah... I had this silly scenario in my head brewing for a little where Teddy, Y/N, Marce are all sitting at home watching an England game. Maybe not one this big because they'd deffo be there but I don't know a friendly or whatever.

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

'Dada on TB' - 440 words

↳ Trent's daughter Teddy doesn't understand why he's not playing.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

"Where dada?" Teddy cooed kicking her feet that were dangling over Marcel’s legs on the couch at your house. 

“He’s not on the pitch, baby. I’m sorry.” You looked at her with a pout not sure if she were to press how you’d be able to explain to her that daddy played every minute for his club and that the England manager was just being idiotic about his squad decisions. You were sure that your little girl wouldn’t care to hear your personal feelings about Southgate though.

“Why? Want my dada.” Teddy flung a question back at you then snapped her concerned expression back to Marcel pointing her arm towards the TV screen hung on the wall.

“Don’t know, Ted, I genuinely do not know, sweetheart.” Marcel cooed to her with a bit of a bite to her question and a shrug. His anger towards the England team selection radiating off him but muffled by his soft voice to her. 

“But dada best!” She rebutted and looked between you two confused. “Judey there... want my dada.” She pouted with big boba eyes welling with disappointment. Teddy didn't like that not only was Trent not on the field, the camera kept following a person she knew.

“I’m sorry, my Teddy bear. He’ll be home soon though.” You cooed, trying to console her. You walked to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, brushing your hand over her curls. 

“No! Mama!! On TB! I want dada on TB!” She yelled not really caring about later, she wanted Trent on the TV or 'TB' as sh was referring to in your living room. Your bottom lip rolled a little seeing your little girl so upset. After the match you thought you’d cheer a still pouty Teddy and a likely frustrated and disappointed Trent up so you facetimed him. 

“Say Hi dada?” You cooed kissing Teddy’s temple pulling her onto your lap to see Trent answering and appearing on your screen.

“Dada, missed! My dada is best.” she explained to him grabbing your phone with both her tiny hands holding it unnecessarily close to her face in an effort to be closer to him. 

“Oh my baby bear, I miss you so much. Did you watch the match?” Trent asked her and she disgruntledly confirmed she did. You flashed Trent a knowing smile relaying silently that she was as upset as he was about him not playing. “You know what, Ted? I didn’t get to play much footie today, will you play with me when I get home?” Trent asked her and gave her a signature devastatingly handsome smile. Teddy’s eyes lit up immediately.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough work here!

[airaibunny]

sana x reader - “finally” (“she's better” pt 2) (warnings: smut, angst, arguing, oral, fingering, scissoring[idk if there's a classier word], breast play, praise)

a/n: by popular request, here is the part two to "she's better." this took me so long, i didn't know what direction to take it in. hopefully you guys like the finished result! also, i didn’t include dom+indicators because it switches in the middle!

word count: 1.8k

you wake up to the feeling of warm sunlight on your face. after adjusting your eyes to the brightness, you notice sana is still in bed, hugging you as she sleeps. she would normally be gone by the time you wake up, but you’re glad she’s not.

last night was definitely different, it didn’t feel like the normal ‘just sex.’ you didn’t want to ask sana about it last night, it felt too soon. you’re hoping to talk to her about it today, maybe your relationship could become something more.

“good morning!”

you excitedly remark when you see sana is awake. you turn to hug her, burying your face in her chest.

“morning.”

she turns around, getting out of bed. you’re slightly taken aback by her response, but just brush it off because you’re both barely awake.

“so, last night was…new.”

she stretches, standing up and getting her clothes.

“mhm. i’m going to get ready, see you later.”

she gives you a half smile and walks outside. you sit in bed, confused at whatever just happened. she kissed you last night, she didn’t act like it was another causal hook-up, why was she suddenly being so cold?

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t somewhat angry at her right now, is she just playing with you?

you decide to just forget about it for now, maybe she’ll act differently later. for now, you just get ready for the day. with promotions finished, there’s not much to do until the end of your schedule, so you have the day off again.

you go outside to find everyone at the table, eating breakfast. you take a spot right next to sana, smiling at her. she halfheartedly smiles back and you lean in to whisper in her ear.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong.”

she joins in on the conversation at the table and completely forgets you’re there. why is she back to normal? you thought after last night she’d finally ask to be your girlfriend or at least confess her feelings for you, but maybe you got the wrong idea. maybe sana doesn’t like girls, you got too excited over nothing.

“hey, im sorry about the nayeon thing last night. we all talked about it when you went to your bedroom and realized we took it too far.”

chaeyoung puts her hand on your arm as she apologizes, you tell her it’s fine and everyone continues on with their discussion. you go back to thinking about sana, you genuinely can’t stop. why did she string you along like that? there’s no way she didn’t know what she was doing.

you sit through the rest of breakfast choking back tears. it’s really so foolish of you to be upset over this. sana hasn’t budged in months, why would that change now? as soon as everyone is done eating, you storm off to your room.

you stand there, silently crying and cursing yourself for getting your hopes up. you suddenly hear the door open and look back to see sana. you wipe your tears, putting your hands on your hips.

“hey.”

sana walks closer to you, noticing how red your face is. “hey. you okay?” she brushes your cheek with her finger and cups your face.

“yes. why’d you follow me?”

“well, you came into your room and it’s the middle of the day…”

you roll your eyes and take her hand off of your face. you can’t believe her right now.

“and what? that means i’m ready for you to fuck me?”

she stands silent for a second, looking puzzled “doesn’t it?” you huff in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable sana.”

she’s still staring at you quite baffled at whatever is happening. you’re growing angrier at the fact that she doesn’t immediately know why you’re acting like this.

“i don’t understand.” she crosses her arms, furrowing her eyebrows at you.

“of course you don’t, because i’m just a fun toy for you. you play with me when you’re bored, and ignore me when you’re not.” the words choke in your throat. you can feel yourself about to cry, but you can’t, you can’t show her how truly upset you are.

“what are you talking about? i thought we were both on the same page about this relationship.” your mouth opens in shock. “what relationship sana? we don’t have a relationship, you don’t want a relationship.” you feel a tear stream down your cheek and wipe it away.

“what? you’re the one who doesn’t want a relationship. you’ve never acted like you liked me in the slightest.”

sana walks closer to you. her eyes look glossy, like she’s about to cry.

“sana, when this started, you told me you didn’t like girls. you’re also not one for sticking around.”

“well, you said the same thing.” her eyes fill with tears, but she wipes them away before they fall down. “what was i supposed to say? ‘oh well, i do’ no, sana, i liked you. i still like you. i wanted to have something with you, and this was the only thing you were willing to give me.”

you’re sobbing as your speak, your voice breaking in between sentences. sana walks closer to you, holding your face in her hands. she lifts it up to kiss you, wiping away most of your tears.

“i’m sorry. i only said all of that because i didn’t know how you would react. i know that’s stupid, i should have told you how i really felt.” she kisses you again “i like you…“ she’s stops for second, thinking about her next words. “i love you, i love you so much.”

you hug her tightly, crying into her shirt for a few seconds.

finally.

after so many years being completely whipped for minatozaki sana, you finally know she feels the same way. you heart wants to jump out of your chest with excitement. she wasn’t stringing you along, she felt the same way you did! you were just both terrified of saying what you felt.

“sana, i love you too.”

you kiss again, it feels so much different than it before. it feels primal, you’re fully enveloped in her. the kiss quickly becomes something else, her hands travel to your sides, tugging at your shirt.

“let me show you how sorry i am.”

she whispers against your lips, pulling your shirt off your body. you pull off your shorts and underwear as well, you want her all over you. you try pulling her shirt off as well, but she grabs your hands.

“no, i want this to be all about you.”

“well, what i want is your tits. please.”

you look at her with a pout, she gives you a wicked smile while pulling her shirt off and tossing it aside. you immediately wrap your hands around her breasts, connecting your lips with hers at the same time. she guides you to the bed while still kissing you and pushes you down on it.

“what do you want me to do first?”

she bends down; leaving slow, wet kisses on your neck.

“go down on me, please?” she looks up, smiling. “whatever you want, princess.”

she moves lower, her lips hovering over your skin, letting you feel her breath all the way down. she stops at your dripping core, turning her face to kiss your thigh. you would normally beg her to stop teasing you, but not today. today, you want her to kiss every inch of you.

she continues kissing you, leaving bruises and bite marks with her mouth all over your thighs. you’re dripping onto the sheets at this point, your body aches for some sort of friction. luckily, she’s done teasing you for now. you feel her tongue drag across your folds and slap a hand over your mouth to cover your moans.

she giggles at your reaction and you bring your other hand to her hair. her tongue moves up and down your core, earning low moans from you. she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks on it, fuck she’s so good.

“sana, feels good. please don’t stop.”

you look down at her, delighting in how pretty she looks. she’s still doing the same thing with her tongue, but you can now feel her fingers on your heat. she runs them across your entrance before forcing them in, making you cry out in pleasure.

with the added stimulation, you can feel yourself on the edge already. her fingers curl inside you as her tongue circles around your clit, both in perfect synchrony.

“fuck, sana-“

you finish while moaning her name, your lower body twitching. once she finishes completely cleaning you and her fingers off, she comes up for a kiss.

“you taste so good, princess.”

she gives you an inebriating smirk, bending down to kiss you again. “what now?”

“let me ride you.”

she stops kissing you, widening her eyes in shock.

“huh?”

“you heard me, let me…ride you.”

you push her down on the bed beside you and pull down her shorts, straddling her without waiting for a definitive answer. you push your hair to the side, lowering yourself to her neck. you use your hands to play with her breasts while using your lips to mark her, you want everyone to know she’s yours now.

“lift your leg.”

you order, feeling a sudden rush from being so dominant. she complies, lifting one of her legs over yours. you lower yourself, letting your folds come in direct contact with hers. you both moan and sit still for a second, getting adjusted to the new feeling.

“ready?” you ask down at her and she nods, so you start moving your hips. sana is instantly a whimpering mess, and so are you. you twitch a bit every time your clits rub against each other, she feels amazing. you notice a tear fall down her cheek and you’re surprised at how much that turns you on.

looking down at her in such a vulnerable state is exhilarating. you never thought you’d enjoy this so much, but all you want is to hear is her moaning and whimpering for you, because of you.

“does that feel good?”

she nods and you speed up, making you both grow louder. you know the members are outside but you can barely think about anything but her.

you’re both very close, you can see how flushed she is and how quickly her tears are coming. “you’re so pretty.” you whisper against her skin as you bend down to kiss her chest.

you feel your body tensing, about to reach your high. sana does before you however, squeezing your thigh. her release is all you need to hear before you come completely undone. you slow down, panting as you try to calm yourself.

you stare down at sana, smiling to yourself. she notices your smile once she opens her eyes and asks “are we done?”

“not by a long shot, i want to see you cry more.”

[peachyloveswriting]

Could we get some…..silent treatment headcanons for knives? Like maybe he says something mean or does something mean to the reader and since shes a sassy lady shes like “ok fine! You wanna be that way?” And gives him the silent treatment until he gives her a genuine apology! Shes moving away from him when he sits/stands next to her, avoiding affection from him, stuff like that!

If you dont wanna write that, thats totally fine! I just 1) love soft knives 2) love the way you write him & 3) wanna see what he does when she ignores him for being a meanie head!!

Headcanons? I’m sorry I need you to speak up…oh…I’m afraid I don’t know what those are love~

Silent Treatment…huh? — Millions Knives

Summary: Knives yelled at you during one of his temper tantrums and this resulted in you giving him the silent treatment. Now he’s confused and upset.

“Why aren’t you speaking to me?” Knives voice raised to the lightest degree, wavering anger present in his voice.

You’ve been doing this, this silent treatment all day. He’s tried to talk to you but you ignore him or move to a different room entirely. No he had you cornered in his bedroom and alone. He wanted answers.

“I’ve been trying to speak to you since last night and you won’t even look at me!” He gestured with his hand as he walked closer to you. You only stared at the window in silence.

“I don’t understand if you’re angry at me or if I’ve done something but it’s no reason to not speak to me. Stop being childish and work the problem out instead of treating me like this.” His words came out as a plea. Buried in frustration his voice strained, yet firm.

You still didn’t reply or even look at him. Knives felt defeated, frustrated. Your company and mindless conversations were the only thing he seemed to enjoy. You pulled him away from his mind when he played his songs and you gave him things to think about other than his stupid hatred. For you to ignore him, hurt.

Softly, hands grabbed your hips and pulled you back. He pulls you to him, his chest pressed against your back while his lips brushed against your ear. His hot breath tickled your skin as he spoke.

“Tell me, My Flower, what have I done to upset you.” He says gently. Your heart flutters from the closeness and the way he holds you from behind, yet you still don’t speak. “Please don’t ignore me.”

Soft kisses trail from your jaw to your shoulder, soft and warm. It sends shivers down your spine as one of his hands further wraps around your waist, holding you against him. “I’ll fix any problems you have, Petal. Say the word and your wish is my command.” He softly nuzzled his face into your neck occasionally trailing it with kisses.

You finally broke, a sigh leaving your lips as you placed your hands over his and spoke. “Last night, when you were angry. You remember right?”

He lifts his head, his eyes watching you curiously. You spin around in his arms to face him. “Yes. I remember.” His brows furrow with wonder as he listens closely.

“You yelled at me. I don’t remember what you said but it pissed me off.” You admit.

His eyes flicker with darkness for a moment before he places a soft kiss on your forehead. “I never meant to yell at you.” He places another on your nose. “That’s no excuse.” He kisses your cheekbone. “Let me make it up to you.” Then your lips.

Knives pulls away with a soft, desperate look in his eyes. He holds you gently as you chuckle and smile up at him. Just seeing you smile warms his chest. “Sure. Please don’t do that again.”

He immediately cupped your face with his hands. “I swear. I’ll never let it happen again.” He places another kiss on your lips. Soft and meaningful, before he tugs you with him towards the bed.

“Come. I’ll make sure you feel better.”

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

Could you please do "Jealousy isn't a good look on you" and "You're right it looks much better on you" for our silly little teenage wizards?

from this prompt list

She hears his heavy, unbalanced footsteps before she hears his voice. “There you are.” He comes to a stumbling stop on the step below her, the toes of his trainers coming into her view.

“Here I am,” she says, then forces herself to look up at him.

“Why’d you leave?” James asks, sounding even more earnest than usual, thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol she knows he’s had tonight.

“Just wanted some fresh air,” she says, offering a shrug.

He crouches down and sits on the step next to her, his arm brushing against hers. She shifts away slightly, trying to be discreet. “Not very…fresh,” he says, glancing around the small stairwell she’s chosen as her refuge.

How did he even find her here at all?

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she says slowly, “but I’d really rather be alone right now.”

He frowns, turning to face her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…” She shakes her head. “You’re really pissed, Potter.”

He shrugs, like this is a complete non-issue. “I can still tell you’re upset.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking right now, okay?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Did I…do something?”

It’s a frustrating question, made more frustrating by the fact that he seems genuinely concerned about her. She’s not angry at him, per se; she’s aware that she doesn’t have the courage to turn the tables and find clarity. It takes a bravery Lily hasn’t felt entitled to lately. And every time she considers being honest with him, something like tonight happens.

Sometimes, it feels like James Potter is the exact right person, at exactly the wrong time. 

“Why are you out here?” she asks, sidestepping his question.

His frown deepens. “Because you…Sirius said you—”

“Let me ask a different way,” Lily cuts in sharply. “Why are you out here with me, instead of back at your victory party, snogging Hestia Jones?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he recoils almost comically, like one of the cartoons she used to watch with Petunia on Saturday mornings. “What?”

Lily turns away, folding her arms around her knees, hands disappearing into the sleeves of her jumper. “Never mind.”

“No, you—” He makes a sound of irritation, somewhere deep in his throat. “Don’t do that, Evans.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t just—Lily, look at me.”

She stubbornly keeps her gaze fixed on the wall of the stairwell. She knows she’s being childish, but she doesn’t care because he just—does things to her. Makes her hate herself a bit and the person she becomes in moments like this.

“Evans.”

“Go away, Potter,” she snaps. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence before he speaks, voice low, “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“You’re right,” she hisses, her head whipping back around to meet his gaze, “it does suit you much more than me.”

His mouth drops open. “What? I—”

“Oh, please, Potter. I know you talked to Benjy. I know you’re the reason—”

“What? That he dumped you? You don’t think maybe it’s just because you’re sort of a bitch?”

The accusation hangs between them, heavy and spilling over like an inkwell knocked across a parchment. Too late to cap and make upright, too late to save the contents of the parchment.

“I’m sorry,” he says miserably, his head dropping into his hands. “I didn't mean—”

“Go back to your party, James."

“Lily, I—”

She stands up, abruptly. “Fine. I’ll go, then.”

James moves to stand, awkward and unsteady. “Hang on. Evans, just—”

She pauses in her retreat, but doesn’t turn to give him the satisfaction of seeing exactly how much he’s hurt her. “Don’t follow me,” she bites off, then disappears.

[rivangel]

Imagine showering Levi with love and he’s constantly acting annoyed about it (but secretly loves it) and telling you to just stop it. And one day you actually stop. Like you are not mean or anything you just stop kissing his face or lips or neck randomly, dong hug him from behind. No more light touching of his hips when you stand behind him in the kitchen and he’s in front of that cupboard you need. Not taking his hand int yours when it’s cold…just to mess with him and see what he does.

OHHH this is canon. Imagine someone like Levi, having always been wary of being snuck up on, blushing pink when you appear behind him and set your chin on his shoulder in an affectionate embrace.

"This’s not even a proper hug," he'd grumble to play off his embarrassment, even as he melts back against you. You couldn't catch Levi dead admitting he looks forward to and relishes every second of the tiny, spontaneous acts of affection you deal out to him.

Of course, it’s not like he’s distant physically. His favorite passing show of affection is patting or ruffling your hair, but it’s not constant, or out of the blue. And he prefers to show his affection through actions anyway.

In the middle of a long and arduous night, when you retrieve a cup of steaming tea for him, and then brush your fingers together as you hand it off. You could have dropped it.

Randomly striding up to him and kissing his forehead when he's on a stool—at the perfect height for you to go up on your toes for once and do so. Why don’t you wait until I’m done so I don’t break my ankle…

When he's sitting at his desk at the perfect height to ruffle his hair. He pouts. Now it's messy.

After he shaves, brushing your knuckles against his chin to "check his work". Tch. I don’t need feedback.

Warming your hands on his soft cheeks. You’re freezing. Made of ice... But this in fact doesn't bother him at all since Levi runs unnaturally hot.

Outwardly Levi shows annoyance or dislike almost every time you do things like this. The excuses revolve around how unneccessary you're being at their core.

BUT. When the touches and gestures cease, Levi notices from the first opportunity you always take in the early morning. You sit on the foot of the bed beside him, strapping on your harness and belts as he does the same—as normal. You don't lean your head on his shoulder, don’t even touch his handiwork… although you smile when he double-checks your own belts.

No leaning down to kiss his wet hair after a shower, and to get a whiff of his shampoo. No draping your legs across his lap when you get a few minutes to lounge around after supper. No touching his waist while he makes supper. Other than that, all appears normal.

Automatically he gets it into his mind that he did something to upset you, genuinely, before anything else. One of Levi’s greatest fears as far as your relationship goes. He never puts it past himself to mess up, although it’s rare. At his core he’s insecure and ever-inexperienced with love, regardless of whether it's really warranted. He has issues with abandonment.

But he also knows it isn't like you to act passive-aggressive. You know how shit he is at communicating verbally. If anyone's petty or passive-aggressive, it's honestly Levi.

You happen to be reading a few nights later, reclined on the couch in his office when he puts aside some papers and devotes real thought (again) to what might be happening. When he retrieved tea for you both earlier, you didn't kiss his knuckles after he set your cup down in front of you. That's not routine. Normally he'd roll his eyes, but after it happens he savors the touch of your soft lips for minutes on end actually.

You notice his gaze out of the corner of your eye, like he’s sizing you up almost. "Do you need something, Levi?"

You said his name! You usually make his stomach flutter or flip by calling him 'baby', 'honey', 'love', or at least some shortened version of his name. "That's not my name," he'd usually grumble. Now a small scowl appears on his face.

Without answering he rises to his feet, and stands in front of you for a good five seconds, waiting for you to acknowledge him. But you don’t.

He sits. Your head is still in your book.

“Yes?”

Blushing and perturbed, he grabs onto your wrist and stiffly puts it on his cheek, forcing you to transfer your book to one hand.

You don't react but to raise a brow. "What're you doing?"

"You’re acting weird," he says plainly, pressing your knuckles to his cheekbone in what should be a familiar touch. "Why aren't you..."

"Why aren't I what?"

"...Being... embarrassing." He opens your loose palm, cupping his cheek with it.

For the first time since he took it, you move your hand, regaining back control, and pull away. You're the farthest thing from mean about it, so he deduces you're still not mad at him for something. But something is certainly off.

You force down a smile at the mopey look on his face. "Maybe because it's embarrassing to you? You always act like you don’t like it. I just did what you wanted.”

His lips press as a wrinkle appears between his brow. He’s pouting. Ironically, he’s acting like something of a brat. Much less, he even put aside his work to find out what’s going on.

He mumbles a few words well-below speaking level. You lay your book face-down on the polished coffee table to save your spot, and lean in. This time, you innocently touch his knee. "What was that?"

Firmly, he sighs, and shifts, almost squirming. "I don’t mean it. You know I..."

You mess with him one last time. "Do I, baby?"

"Yes," he grunts. He lurches forward and plants you down flat on your back before you can even blink. Then with one measured tug, he loosens his cravat and lays down on top of you so you have little hope of escaping. It's just him and you, face to face. Levi is heavier than he looks, but a comfortable weight regardless. He continues to pout.

You acqueise finally by tenderly kissing his lips, and raising your hand. It sinks into his hair.

That’s better. Now satisfied, he lays his head down on your shoulder, eyes floating shut to relish the affection. He’s learned his lesson.