#WORRIED FOR HIM EVERY SECOND BUT HE’S SO COOL SO ITS OKAY !!!!!!!

[chandralia]

all three of these in the same chapter,,

[gloomwitchwrites]

Oh please, please, please something short, funny with 141 where their wife calls them on their way home from work “yea, I think I’m having contractions!” And by the time they rush home, she’s sitting in the bath tub with their new baby. And she’s all casual like ‘Hey! Look at this cool thing I’ve got!’ And it’s their baby.

(My Grandmother had this happen! Each kid under an hour. My grandfather nearly had a heart attack! He’d always hesitate to leave her alone. Suspicious she was ‘purposefully’ going into labor when he wasn’t there to help her. Lol…)

Okay, that is so funny and adorable! Hehe, omg, I love this. Dad!141 is my favorite. I love writing them as fathers or as potential fathers. And this prompt is just an excuse to do that! Thank you so much for sending it in. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): married life, pregnancy, childbirth, domestic fluff, swearing, humor

Word Count: 2.1k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Price rubs at his temple, releasing a deep sigh.

It’s late. The base is nearly empty. Another late night filled with paperwork.

His phone buzzes, the cellular device vibrating on the desk. Price reaches for it, checking the screen. It’s you calling him, and his stomach flips.

“Cabbage,” he greets with a smile, answering the phone.

You’re pregnant, due date just a week or two away. Price doesn’t like leaving you home alone, but this is the last push. After tonight, he can come home early.

“John?”

His name is a question. There’s a hint of worry—of nervousness—and Price immediately picks up on it.

“Everything okay, love?” he asks, slowly standing, paperwork suddenly forgotten.

“John. I—I think—”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m having contractions.”

By the time the words leave your mouth, Price is already grabbing his coat. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” He swallows, pushing down his own anxiety, smothering it so he can be strong for you. “Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming home.”

On the other end of the line, you breathe heavily. Each whimper worries him.

“John,” you gasp, voice strangled as he throws himself into his car and turns it on.

 “I know. I know. I’m coming.”

Price is doing his best to stay calm, to stay alert as he drives off base and heads for home, but all he can focus is on you.

“Keep talking to me, love,” he says, attempting to sound encouraging.

“Okay,” you reply, but then go quiet.

 “Cabbage?”

When you don’t answer him, Price uses your name. Nothing. No sound at all as if the line’s gone dead.

“Shit,” he mutters, holding the phone out to check.

Call Dropped.

“Fucking shit,” he says, louder.

Price continues to dial—continues to call. Every time, he expects you to pick up, but you never do. The worry grows, becoming deafening as the seconds tick by. Traffic laws are broken, but it gets him home faster.

He’s throwing himself out of the car, dashing to the house, not caring if he forgot to put the vehicle in park. In the front entryway, he calls out to you, using your name.

There is no response.

 “Fuck,” he whispers as he dashes up the stairs, heading for the bedroom. He enters, and it’s—

Empty.

“Where are you?” he breathes, turning away to check the rest of the house.

But then Price hears your voice, soft and soothing. Frowning, he checks the bedroom again, only to head toward the bathroom.

You’re sitting on the floor, back pressed against the tub. There’s blood and a fluid Price doesn’t recognize smearing the floor between your legs.

You glance up. Smile. “Hi,” you laugh as Price drops to his knees beside you.

There’s a baby in your arms. Its hands are tight fists, face pinched like it’s annoyed to be here.

“No wonder you didn’t answer the phone,” sighs Price, placing his hand against yours that cradles the infant’s head.

“A bit busy,” you chuckle.

Price laughs with you, taking his phone out his jacket pocket to dial the hospital.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’m not leaving.”

“It’s fine, Simon. Really.”

Simon crosses his arms over his chest. “The last time I left you this close to your due date, you gave birth while I wasn’t here.”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “That’s not going to happen again.”

“It might,” he growls.

“It won’t,” you insist.

As you start to walk away, Simon blocks your path. “You’ve been complaining about your lower back all morning.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I always complain about my lower back.” Simon begins to object but you continue on. “And we need milk. And eggs. And bread.”

“Fine,” mutters Simon. “Fine. I’ll go. But you call me immediately if anything happens.”

 “Okay, dad,” you reply, mocking him.

Simon drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head. “Pumpkin,” he replies, and you hear the smile in it.

“The sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back. You can worry and fuss over me all you want then.”

Simon pulls you in for another kiss before heading out the door. The trip to the store isn’t peaceful. In the back of his mind, Simon stews, a little voice telling him that you’re going to call him any second and tell him you’re in labor. That’s what happened with your first, and Simon came home after you’d given birth.

He was devasted. Upset. Not with you—never with you. He was upset with himself for not being there to support you through it. To hold your hand. To encourage and shower you with love.

Simon is standing in line at the meat counter when you call him.

“Don’t be angry,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Are you having contractions?”

“…Yes.”

“Goddamn it.”

Simon abandons the shopping trolley, apologizing to the workers as he rushes out the door and to the car. When he enters the house, he hears your labored cry. Dashing up the stairs, Simon enters the bathroom at the same moment you cry out, clearly pushing. You’re on your hands and knees, sweat beads your brow, hair sticking to your face.

He dives to his knees, arms outstretched and reaching beneath you as the baby’s head emerges.

“I’m here,” Simon says, keeping his voice calm and soothing.

You start crying, head tilting to lean against his shoulder.

Another push, and then the rest of the baby is out and in Simon’s hands. The infant is silent at first, then releases a cry of displeasure.

“Bloody hell,” exhales Simon, “I’m never leaving you alone again.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

I’m having contractions, reads the text.

Johnny’s mouth drops open, gaze growing distant.

You’re having contractions. You’re having contractions, and he is on the other side of the city. With traffic, he’s likely an entire hour away from you.

“Soap?” asks Gaz, waving his hand in front of Johnny’s face.

“I have to go,” says Johnny quickly, shooting up from his chair, almost knocking it over.

Gaz and Ghost both stand abruptly, clearly startled by Johnny’s sudden panic.

“Everything good?” asks Ghost.

Johnny shakes his head. “The missus is having contractions.”

“Oh,” replies Gaz, eyes growing a bit wide. “Damn. Go. You should go.”

“We’ll cover your tab,” adds Ghost.

Johnny groans. “Her due date isn’t for another bloody week.” He grabs his jacket.

“You’re going to be a father, Soap,” chuckles Ghost, punching him in the shoulder.

“Fuck. What if she has it while I’m not there?”

“Don’t these things take forever anyway?” muses Ghost. “Contractions don’t mean anything. Right?” He glances at Gaz.

Gaz shrugs. “I think you should worry if it’s close together.” Gaz holds his hands close to indicate the lack of time.

“Shit,” mutters Johnny, tapping away at his phone.

Are they close together?

It’s a few seconds and then the three little circles pop up, indicating that you’re typing back.

They’re close. A few minutes apart. I’m on the phone with the midwife.

“Oh fuck,” mutters Johnny, elongating the vowel as he tugs on his jacket.

Gaz grimaces. “It’ll be fine,” he tries to reassure as Johnny rushes past him. “Congrats!”

Johnny hardly hears him, he’s too focused on getting to the car. Every second is agony—not knowing what’s happening while he’s driving. When he pulls up to the house almost an hour later, there’s a car Johnny doesn’t recognize in the drive.

As bursts through the door, he hears calming music. Rushing forward into the living room, he finds you on the floor, wrapped up in a blanket, propped up by a nest of pillows. The midwife putters about as you gently rock back and forth, cradling an infant in your arms.

You glance up. “Look,” you laugh, lifting the infant that you’ve just birthed, presenting it like you’ve completed a fun DIY craft project.

Johnny almost faints.

“Oh, babe,” he exhales. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The midwife makes a sound of annoyed agreement and Johnny winces.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “She came quickly.”

“I should have been here,” he groans, sliding to the floor next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders.

You lean into him. “You’re here now,” you sigh, eyes closing as you snuggle against him.

Johnny looks to the midwife, and she smiles at him—a reassurance. You’re fine, and so is his daughter.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Ignoring it, Kyle keeps his attention on Captain Price, focusing on the briefing for the upcoming mission. The phone goes silent. Seconds later, it starts up again. Frowning, Kyle reaches into his pocket, sliding out the phone just enough to see the screen. Your name and picture appear on the screen, your smile bright and lovely.

“Need to answer that?”

Kyle’s head snaps up at the sound of Captain Price’s voice.

“Sorry, Captain. It’s the missus.”

Price inclines his head, the middle of his brow creasing slightly. “It’s she pregnant?”

“She is,” affirms Kyle.

“Then you should answer it.”

Kyle gives him, Ghost, and Soap a brief nod. “Excuse me,” he mutters, standing and heading for the door.

When the meeting room door slams shut, the phone starts up again.

Kyle answers, his words falling from his mouth quickly, sounding like one solid word instead of several. “What’s going on, love?”

“I’m having contractions.”

You sound panicked.

 “You’re—are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you gasp. “Water broke earlier—"

Kyle’s voice rises slightly. “Your water broke and you didn’t call me?”

“I wasn’t feeling anything,” you reply, as if that makes it okay. “But now, it’s constant.” Your sigh is labored. Tired. “They’ve come on so suddenly, Kyle. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, love. Don’t apologize.” You have nothing to be sorry for. He’s just happy you called. “I’m coming home. Right now.”

“But you have that meeting. You can’t—”

“I’m coming home,” he reiterates. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hang in there, dove. I’ll be there soon.” Kyle disconnects the call and bursts through the meeting room doors. “It’s happening,” he announces.

Soap blinks, confused. “What’s happening?”

Ghost side-eyes him. “He’s about to become a dad.”

“Fucking shit. Really?” Soap turns to Kyle, beaming. “Congrats.”

Price crosses his arms over his chest, a look of pride on his face. “Go, Sergeant.”

Kyle nods, giving a half-wave as he backs out through the toward, heading toward the parking lot. He’s practically running—rushing to turn the car on. Taking off, Kyle hardly cares if he hits anything, and he doesn’t blink when breaking nearly a dozen traffic laws.

He makes it home in half the time he usually does. Every second counts. Every moment important. If the contractions are coming quickly and close together, it means the baby is ready, and he needs to get you to the hospital.

As he enters the front door, he calls out to you. Your answer comes, but it’s distant. Upstairs. Kyle takes the stairs two at a time, walking into the bedroom to find it empty. But the bathroom light is on.

A few steps, and he pushes open the door.

You’re not standing at the sink putting on your makeup or getting ready to leave. You sit inside the shower on the tile floor, the glass door wide open, pantless, and cradling an infant in your arms.

“Shit,” he breathes, moving forward. “Shit.” Kyle crouches just outside the shower door.

You grin sheepishly, lifting the baby like it’s an accident. “She came minutes after I got off the phone with you.”

“Oh, bloody hell, love,” laughs Kyle.

There are tears in your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Don’t be, my love.” Reaching out, he grasps the back of your neck. Leaning in, he presses his lips to your forehead. “She’s beautiful.”

[kittywhimsical]

biker!simon headcanons!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

♡ your guys' dynamic is insanely different but you compliment each other so well! (i was thinkin batman 'nd hello kitty cause c'mon.. simon is not a spiderman guy)

♡ he is absolutely jacked. i mean jacked. which makes it harder for you to wrap your arms around him but he always has one hand reaching for you, and touching the back of your thigh so you almost always don't have to worry.

♡ he does those little helmet kisses whenever you guys are about to go on a ride or stop for gas.

♡ he's got his own little insta account (that you forced him to make) and posts videos and pics of mostly you and his bike. no profile picture, no bio, just posts.

♡ surprisingly he's got a good following, but he only follows you (ofc) and the 141.

♡ you both love late night rides, especially if the two of you had a long day and just need to cool off.

♡ your helmets are pretty plain. black, tinted. but when you started riding him with him more, he got them customised so you could have a pink fluffy one with those little ears and his had his classic skullface with your name engraved on it <3

♡ he always makes sure you're okay, looking back at you at red lights and talking to you, even if he knows you can't hear him sometimes.

♡ he lets you wear whatever you want like skirts and dresses, he's gonna pull it down anyway.

♡ he makes sure you both are always wearing some sort of gear, just in case.

♡ whenever you guys go on rides with the 141 or go to a bike meet, he makes sure you are with him every second, he can't have anything bad happen to you. he'd go ballistic if anything did

♡ he adores whenever you lay your head on him, its his favourite thing ever.

♡ drops you off everywhere, no matter how far and picks you up right on time. maybe he even stays and waits where you are, until you finish.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

part 2? maybe nsfw ;)

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how clingy sylus copes with your absence

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

characters: sylus

link to master list here!!!

authors notes: so basically we all love clingy!sylus and i don’t think people talk about it enough, so i here i try to do him some justice </3

i tried not to mischaracterise him, but i find it difficult to imagine how he’d react. he’s a full fledged adult - 27/28 years old - so i can see him trying to be mature about it. but after a while, it gets hard to wait any longer no?

more below the cut!! :3

first few days of your absence sylus is fine, i mean it’s one day - people get busy, people get tired. sylus understands better than most that life gets tough.

he checks his messages maybe two or three times to see if you’ve responded, but nothing. that’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

after five-ish days he’s a little irritated, how could you forget about him for that long?

yeah you could be busy, but seriously?

he gives you a call but it sends straight to voicemail, to which he refuses to leave one.

i bet he secretly feels a little embarrassed at how much your absence is bothering him, and out of spite he refuses to check his phone during the day.

“Tsk, ignoring me?”

luke and kieran definitely notice his small shift in attitude - his nonchalant facade isn’t perfect after all.

they are also secretly cursing you for disappearing, i mean come on! how could you leave them with an angry boss!!

another few days pass, how long has it been since he last saw you? a week?

gets fidgety and cracks, calling you again - no reply.

when he gets sent to voicemail he speaks in his typical, slow tone.

“Why aren’t you picking up my calls, kitten? Get back to me when you listen to this.”

despite his seemingly calm voice, he’s starting to really lose his cool. your absence was unsettling, and yeah he’s disappeared before for a few days on business, he at least picks up calls.

he never leaves you clueless for even a few days, let alone a whole week.

mephisto is sent out for surveillance of the n109 zone, and sylus keeps his phone close. always in his vision, hearing range, whatever.

every notification catches his attention, eyes snapping to the illuminated screen only to slowly drag away when he sees it isn’t you.

from the first to second week of your absence, his irritability shoots up. sylus is getting agitated, brushing it off as annoyance.

after all, what the fuck did he do for you to ignore him for this long?

he texts you almost every day now, the texts getting increasingly shorter, decreasingly floral and more concerned.

“Kitten, why aren’t you picking up my calls?”

“[YN], are you really ignoring me?”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Call me.”

he’s calling you every other day now, his sleeping schedule is deteriorating and his mind isn’t focused.

sylus is getting angry at himself, why is he so messed up about this? so what if you haven’t spoken to him in 13 days, isn’t it pathetic to be so affected by your absence?

he lived 27+ years without you, he can live another hundred without.

yet he still finds himself rearranging the plushies you two caught together, checking for your messages, scrolling through your posts.

almost a month has passed since your disappearance, and sylus isn’t getting any better.

why did you go? are you okay? did you get hurt?

god forbid something happened to you.

he’s hired some people to search for you, fuck waiting he’s worried.

finds himself drinking more alcohol with his meals than usual, to the point where even he - a heavy weight - feels his head becoming a little dizzy, his hands twitching for his phone.

one night, after downing a bottle of wine himself, he calls you at least five times, before leaving a voicemail.

his voice lacks its usual slow, bored tone. instead his words are a little slurred, his voice seems a little higher pitched - not too much but it is noticeable - and he’s speaking a little faster too.

“[YN]? Where are you, are you okay? Please pick up, it’s been a month. Do you really- have I deterred you? I know you dislike me, have you ran away? If you have, then at least tell me you’re alive. I mi-”

he catches himself before he says it, because he’s just realised something, something that was so blatantly obvious he feels shocked that he hadn’t noticed it

he misses you, he isn’t angry. he isn’t annoyed that you disappeared, he’s upset.

the fact that it took so long for him to realise is stupid, and all he can do it sit and chuckle drunkenly to himself.

“I miss you, [YN]. Please call me back.”

when you finally call him - exactly 43 days since you left - he almost scrambles to his phone

sylus picks up immediately, yet miraculously finds himself at a loss for words. what does someone say after over a month of waiting?

kind of just stands there, frozen - if you wait before speaking you can hear his almost shaky breaths

“Hey Sylus, you miss me? You left over 13 voicemails and 65 texts, I’m touched.”

gods your voice smoothed over his tense muscles like honey

he sits down, heart beating faster than usual. it’s stupid how much hearing your voice affected him, but he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the sound.

if he was a dog his tail would be wagging so fucking hard

“Come here, now.”

when you do arrive, you seriously expect to get killed or something. his tone sounded seriously pissed - i mean like the most pissed you’ve ever heard it

but when you open the door you just get swallowed into a chest and a pair of arms

if you try to move away or struggle, they just hold you tighter and restrict your actions and- oh, sylus is hugging you.

his face is angled down into your head, and you can’t see his expression - only the beating of his heart against you, and it was fast.

“Where the fuck were you? I missed you.”

explain whatever the hell you want to sylus, he’s already decided that you’re not going out without him knowing ever again

probably tries to download some sort of GPS tracker on your hunter’s watch to make sure he knows where you are

TLDR; sylus doesn’t realise how much he really cares for you until you go MIA for over a month in which he starts to genuinely tweak out! :3

AN; guys i actually spat this out in like an hour i think i might have clingy!sylus brain rot because oh my god anyways this isn’t proof read i just needed to express my love for clingy!sylus that gets worried because he isn’t just a dominant badass gang leader he’s also human and he also gets sad and upset and feels emotions argahdbansn he just sucks at recognising his own desires (get it because his evol eye can see other people’s desires but he can’t see his own :3)

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

On the Quieter Nights

Richard Grayson x Jealous! reader

Part 2 | Part 3

Lots of angst😁I hope whoever requested this is happy.

Gotham was always alive, even in the dead of night. The city that never slept had a heartbeat of its own, its dark alleys and towering buildings all wrapped up in a never-ending cycle of crime and hope. But tonight, it was too loud, too close, and your thoughts kept racing in directions you couldn’t control.

You sat on the balcony of Dick’s apartment, staring out at the sprawling skyline, your fingers nervously tracing the rim of the coffee cup in your hands. The air was crisp, cool against your skin, but it couldn’t quell the heat in your chest—the gnawing jealousy, the hurt, the confusion.

He had promised he’d be home soon, but you already knew what that meant. Soon meant hours. It always meant hours. He was always out there, fighting in the shadows, protecting Gotham with the team—Barbara included.

Barbara.

You could never escape her. She was always there—somewhere in the background of every conversation, every story, every mission. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Dick; it wasn’t like you didn’t know how much he loved you. He did love you, didn’t he?

But the way he looked at her… the way his smile lingered when her name was mentioned, the way his voice softened when he talked about her intelligence, her strength, the way they fit together in a way you would never understand—it all ate away at you, bit by bit. Every moment you shared with him, you felt the echo of her presence. It wasn’t enough anymore. You weren’t enough.

You heard the door creak open behind you, but you didn’t turn. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him, not yet. Not when your heart felt so raw, so exposed.

"Hey, beautiful," Dick’s voice broke through the silence, and you could hear the exhaustion in it. You could always hear it when he returned from patrol. "You’re up late."

"Couldn’t sleep," you said softly, avoiding his gaze as he stepped closer, his warm presence filling the space around you. You couldn’t help it; you still felt the pull to him, even when it felt like you were slipping further away.

"Everything okay?" Dick asked, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, a simple gesture that once brought comfort but now only seemed to remind you of the things you couldn’t escape.

You didn’t answer immediately, unsure how to voice the weight pressing on your chest. "How’s Barbara?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice so small you almost didn’t recognize it.

Dick frowned, confusion etching his features as he sat beside you, his arm brushing against yours. "Barbara’s fine, same as always." He paused, looking at you, his expression softening. "Why do you ask? You know she’s part of the team. She’s… she’s family."

You clenched your hands around your cup, trying to steady your breath. "Yeah. She’s family," you repeated bitterly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You felt his hand tighten on your shoulder, but you couldn’t look at him.

"Baby, what’s going on?" His voice had a gentle pleading edge now, a hint of worry in his tone. He didn’t get it, did he? He didn’t understand how much it hurt to see her so effortlessly wrapped around his life.

"Do you ever think about her?" You heard yourself ask before you could stop. "I mean, really think about her? The way she… she doesn’t have to try to be in your life. She’s already there."

Dick blinked, clearly startled by your words. "What are you talking about? Of course, I think about her. She’s been through a lot, babe. She’s part of my world. But you’re in my world now. You’re the one I’m with. You’re the one I want."

His words were soothing, but they didn’t feel like they were for you. They felt like empty promises, like things he was saying because he didn’t know what else to say. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

"I don’t want to be second place," you whispered, barely able to hear yourself over the rush of blood in your ears. "I don’t want to keep feeling like I’m competing with someone who’s already everything to you."

Dick’s eyes softened, and he reached for you, pulling you into his arms, but you stiffened. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how to make you feel like you mattered more than she did. Because to him, you did matter, but to you, it always felt like Barbara’s shadow loomed over everything you did together.

"You’re not second place," he said quietly, but there was uncertainty in his voice now. "You’re everything to me, beautiful. Please, believe me."

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him so badly. But how could you, when every time he spoke of Barbara, his eyes lit up with something you would never have? How could you believe him when you saw the way his smile lingered when she was around, the way he held her a little too long, the way he called her family, as if that was supposed to make it better?

"I see the way you look at her," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I see the way you’re different with her. She’s the one who’s always been there, Dick. She doesn’t have to try to be a part of your world. She’s already in it. I’m just… I’m just the girl who gets to spend a few hours with you before you go off again."

"Baby, please," Dick’s voice cracked, and he pulled you closer, his arms tight around you as if he could hold all your pain in that single embrace. "I love you. You’re not just a few hours. You’re not just an afterthought. You mean everything to me. I swear, I only want you."

But the more he whispered those words, the more you felt like they were just… words. They didn’t change the fact that you would never be her. They didn’t erase the history they shared, the years of partnership, of friendship, of everything that made her so deeply ingrained in his life.

"I’m so sorry," you whispered, your tears falling freely now, soaking his shirt. "I don’t know how to be enough for you when she’s always going to be there."

Dick stayed silent for a long time, and when he finally spoke again, it was soft, almost like he was afraid of breaking something inside you. "You don’t have to be enough for me, sweet heart. You’re already everything. But I don’t know how to make you see that. I don’t know how to make you believe me."

You pulled away from him, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, feeling too small, too fragile. "I wish I could believe you, Dick. But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to keep pretending that I’m not just a shadow in your life, living in her light."

Dick’s expression faltered, his blue eyes filled with pain and confusion. "I don’t want you to feel this way. I never wanted to hurt you. But I don’t know how to fix this…"

You looked at him for a long moment, the ache in your chest unbearable, before you whispered, "Maybe you don’t need to fix it, Dick. Maybe you just need to let me go."

He stared at you, eyes wide, as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. "What?"

"I’m tired of feeling like I’m competing for your love," you whispered, voice breaking. "I’m tired of being second place. I don’t want to be the girl who always comes after her. I want to be enough, but I don’t know if I can keep pretending anymore."

The silence stretched between you, suffocating. And when Dick reached for you again, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"Please, babe," he begged, his voice raw. "Please don’t say that. I love you. I need you."

You shook your head, turning away from him, your heart breaking in a way you couldn’t put into words. "You’ve always needed her more, Dick. And I… I just can’t keep living in her shadow."

As the door softly clicked shut behind you, you knew it was over. And maybe, somewhere deep down, you had always known it would be.

Masterlist

[hoe4hotchner]

Hey, love you work, I was wondering if I could request a fic of the reader and Hotch being in a established relationship and its when Hotch passed out in the meeting room because of the stab wounds and its him asking the reader if she (or could be GN) was mad that in his dreams (not sure if it was really a dream) he saw Haley, and its the reader comforting him and telling him its ok. Also the reader panicking when he is taken to the hospital.

🫶🏻

Route 66 | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Route 66, hospital, fainting, worry, anxiety, near death.

A/N: ANON!!!! I LOVE YOU! I've had the words Route 66 written in my notes app for so long, meaning to write something for that episode, but by sending in a request you kindly pushed that thought forward by softly "forcing" me to write it 💕💕

You sat across from where Hotch was standing, his hand resting on the back of the chair in front of him, almost leaning on it. The team had gathered to discuss the details of their newest case, but Hotch's expression was off. His usually steely focus seemed blurred, replaced with a distant look and a faint pallor, as though he were lost somewhere far away. You knit your eyebrows, concern building as you watched him. Maybe he’d caught something, you thought — or maybe it was pure exhaustion from the relentless stack of case files and paperwork to be filled out on his desk?

When he met your eyes, he offered a tight-lipped smile, one of those you’d come to recognize as his way of brushing off concern — He could tell what you were thinking just by looking at you. But something in that look made your worry deepen. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his face seemed strained, his breathing slightly unsteady.

"She's been missing for over five hours, and we know how time-sensitive these cases are. The, uh… amber alert is expanding… every hour…" Hotch's voice wavered, the contrast to his usual commanding tone made your worry increase — you made a mental note to force him to take a break once back from the case. He paused mid-sentence, blinking as if trying to steady himself, but his words came slower, each one seemingly costing him more and more effort. "Excuse me," he managed to say before he turned away.

Before any of you could react, he swayed. And then, without warning, his body gave out, crumpling as he fell to the floor.

"Aaron?" you called, your heart jumping in your chest. You shot out of your chair, rushing to his side, barely processing Morgan’s panicked, “Hotch!” before your hands found his shoulders. He was so still, his skin frighteningly pale, and his breathing alarmingly faint.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Morgan’s voice boomed through the room, it was sharp, slicing through the stunned silence around the table.

In what felt like seconds, paramedics were there, loading him onto a stretcher. Everything moved in a blur, your gaze fixed on him, silently pleading for him to open his eyes, for some sign of life, some assurance that he’d be okay. You climbed into the ambulance beside him, not willing to let him out of your sight, clutching his hand as if that small connection might somehow anchor him to you.

The ride to the hospital felt agonizingly slow, each second echoing the sound of your pounding heartbeat. All you could think was that you should have known, should have done something. But then he was there, still and quiet, his hand cool in yours, and the weight of not knowing what was wrong gnawed at you.

One thing was certain: you weren’t getting on that jet tonight. Not without him.

The hours passed agonizingly slow in the sterile surroundings of the relative's room at the hospital. Hotch was still in surgery. Each minute stretched into what felt like hours, causing your worry to increase by the second. The slight mutter of doctors passing by and the rhythmic beeps of machines in the rooms around you faded into the background, leaving you with only the memory of Hotch collapsing, the sound of him hitting the ground, his pale almost ghostly face. The scene replayed in a cruel loop, each moment sharpening the feeling of helplessness in your chest.

You went over every second in your mind, searching for signs you might have missed, something that could tell you exactly what was going on. The tired look in his eyes, his faltering words, the way he’d gripped the chair to steady himself — all of it was unclear. The guilt gnawed at you, growing heavier as you waited — you should've known something was off. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if it could keep the memories, the what-ifs, from pressing in too close and consuming you too much.

Lost in thought, you barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching until the doctor stood in front of you, his voice pulling you back into the present.

“He’s stable now, but very disoriented,” he said gently, and relief surged through you, so overwhelming that it took a moment to fully register. “He’s asking for you.”

You nodded, your body moving almost on instinct as you got up, every part of you focused on seeing him. Your pulse raced as you followed him down the corridor.

You found him slightly sitting up in the bed, he looked weak but alert, eyes softening when they found you. Relief flooded through you — and through him. The sight of him was almost enough to bring you to tears. You reached his bedside, taking his hand and pressing it to your cheek.

“Hey, you,” you murmured, voice breaking as you blinked back tears despite your attempt to stay calm. “You scared me.”

He winced, managing a half-smile. “Sorry for that.”

You took a breath, about to tell him it was okay, that you were just glad he was alright, but he beat you to it, his gaze shifting down to the sheets as he spoke, almost as if he was ashamed.

“I… I need to tell you something. When I was out, I saw Haley.”

The words hung in the air between you. You brushed your thumb along his knuckles, urging him to continue.

“She was… there. It was like I was seeing her for the first time again. My life was playing on the big screen,” he murmured. “And I thought, for a second, maybe I was—” He broke off, searching your face. “I need to know… are you angry?”

The question stunned you. Anger? That was the last thing you felt. You leaned forward, cupping his face, thumb tracing the line of his cheek.

“I’m not angry. Haley will always be a part of you and your story,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “Losing her was… it was unimaginable. You loved her. And seeing her in that moment… maybe it’s what you needed to let go of some of the guilt you’ve been carrying since.”

His eyes softened, his hand lifting to cover yours, holding it close against his cheek. “You’re too good to me.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head with a smile. “I just love you.”

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you could feel the tension slowly melting away.

“I can’t imagine how it felt,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “But I know I don’t want to go back there. Not when I have you.”

You leaned in, feeling his breath warm against your skin. “Then focus on healing, Aaron. And let me be here for you.”

It was as if everything else fell away. The hospital, the case, the memory of Haley, even the thought of Jack on his way to the hospital with Jess — it all faded into the background, leaving only you and him, together.

[silkensago]

drive me crazy!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ bumblebee x reader. fluff. ⭑ bee keeps subconsciously playing love songs on the radio the moment you get in his shotgun and can’t stop.

Bumblebee loves picking you up from campus.

You know this not because he’s ever said it, but because every time you step out of class, he’s already there, idling at the curb like he’s been waiting the whole day. Bright sunflower yellow paint gleaming in the sun, windows down just enough to look cool, and parked at the exact angle that shows off his best side.

You hop in with a smothered giggle at the sight and pat his hood everytime before you do.

And every time, a little crowd forms. Phones come out. Someone always whistles. Someone else always says something like “That Camaro suits you so much” or “Man, he’s gorgeous” and Bee, without fail, revs once. Okay, a few times. Not obnoxiously. Just proud in a cute way.

You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him tilt his mirrors to catch your reaction.

He doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.

Today, though, the ride is quiet. Strangely so.

He hasn’t blasted any music yet—not even the usual over-the-top 90s throwbacks he loves to pretend are ironic. There’s only the low hum of the A/C and the faint creak of the seatbelt as you click in.

You frown slightly, leaning back against cushy leather of the shotgun. “Bee, can you turn some music on?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. The cabin feels like it’s holding its breath.

Then, without warning, the vents shift—and heat pours in like someone just cracked open the sun.

“Bee!”

He lets out a frantic series of beeps and dials the temperature back down.

Cool air spills across your arms. You sigh in relief. Okay, something’s definitely off.

The windshield wipers suddenly kick in.

It hasn’t rained in days.

You glance over at the dash. “What is going on with you today?”

Gently, you rest your hand on the smooth surface. Pat it twice. You’ve done it before—when he’s nervous, or glitchy, or just needs reassurance. You don’t know if it actually does anything, but he always responds like it does.

“Are you okay?” you ask, softer now. “Should I call Ratchet? You’ve been weird since I got in. I can just walk—”

A rapid, indignant string of beeps cuts you off.

“Okay, okay. I won’t walk.” You grin, softening. “I’ll stay here with you.”

A couple of quick chirps follow.

Then, a pause. As if hesitating, the stereo finally crackles on.

The first song starts.

It’s something slow. Something sweet. With strings in the background and lyrics dripping like honey. The kind of song you only hear during the credits of a romcom that ends in a kiss.

A soft croon fills the car. Old, warm, unmistakable.

“Wise men say… only fools rush in…”

You blink. “Wait. Is that—Elvis?”

The song suddenly skips like it’s been snatched mid-note, and suddenly the Cardigans are playing instead, bright and pleading, “Love me, love me, say that you love me…”

You raise an eyebrow. “Bee.”

Panic. Another skip.

“Come right on me… I mean camaraderie…”

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle breathlessly, sinking back into the seat. You can’t help it. “Seriously?!”

Flustered, there’s only desperate, pleading beeps from him. Like he’s telling you it’s out of his control.

You stare at the speakers. “Are you—are you stuck on a love songs playlist right now?”

He beeps once again, defensive.

The volume lowers like he’s giving up. Or accepting his fate.

You glance over, and that’s when you notice it: the little honeypot charm hanging from his rearview mirror—the one you made him a few weeks ago, out of clay and cheap ribbon—is starting to droop. The heat from all his internal scrambling must’ve softened it.

“Bee—your charm!”

He lets out a pitiful whine.

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, reaching over to gently unhook it before it melts completely. “I’ll make you a new one. A better one.”

A chirp. The one he only makes when he’s really, really happy.

You smirk, not even bothering to hide it. “Love you too, Bee.”

Everything freezes for half a second. The lights on his dash flicker, the speakers stutter, and he lets out a high-pitched wheep! that sounds suspiciously like a system overload.

You jolt forward slightly as the car lurches.

He nearly swerves into a bush.

“Bee!!”

He rights the steering wheel, beep-beep-beeping something that sounds very much like I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine while you’re laughing so hard it makes your eyes sting.

Another beep. You okay? It’s sheepish. Embarrassed. He’s terribly endearing, and you’re weak for it.

“I’m okay.” You shake your head, still smiling as you reach over to pat the dash again. “You’re such a dork.”

His engine purrs.

[forkshighschooler]

Can you write about what Jacob does when he sees reader ex-boyfriend who is toxic to the reader, bothering her at work or something

Don’t Touch Her

Summary: When Jacob comes to surprise you at work, he doesn’t expect to find your toxic ex leaning a little too close. He doesn’t take it well.

Pairing: Jacob Black x Reader

Warnings: Protective Jacob, mentions of emotional manipulation, light aggression, tension

The café smelled like espresso and burnt bagels—just like it always did during your shift. You were wiping down the counter, focused on your last hour before closing, when he walked in.

Your ex.

That sick feeling bloomed in your stomach the second your eyes landed on him. His smirk was the same. So was the way he ignored personal space, stepping just a little too close.

“Didn’t think you’d still be stuck in this job,” he said smoothly, resting his hand on the counter like he owned it. “Thought you’d be off doing something better by now. Or were you always this—simple?”

You stiffened. “You need to leave.”

“Relax,” he said with a laugh, brushing a hand against your arm like he used to—like it meant something. “I’m just talking to you. You used to love that, remember?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your skin crawled under his gaze.

Then you heard it.

The sound of the bell above the door.

And you felt him before you saw him.

Jacob.

His warmth was like the sun slamming through the window after a storm—instant, undeniable. He was across the room before either of you could speak.

“Get your hand off her.” His voice was quiet, but it burned.

Your ex turned with a scoff. “What, you her new boyfriend or something?”

Jacob didn’t answer right away. He didn’t need to. The way he stepped in between you two, the way his jaw clenched like stone, the way his shoulders rose with every breath—that was the answer.

“Leave. Now.” Jacob’s voice was low, deadly calm. “Before I forget she’s the reason I haven’t already broken your nose.”

Your ex laughed nervously, trying to keep cool, but he took a step back.

“You can’t touch me,” he sneered. “You lay a hand on me and—”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “You touched her first. And if you ever come near her again, even think about talking to her like that—I won’t just touch you.”

Silence.

Then your ex huffed and shoved past Jacob, muttering under his breath as he fled out the door. You let out a shaky breath, realizing how tense you’d been the whole time.

Jacob turned to you immediately. His features softened, worry clouding his expression as he gently touched your arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, eyes stinging. “Yeah. Now I am.”

Jacob looked like he wanted to chase after him, but he stayed—because you needed him, not a fight.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and whispered, “He’s never gonna get near you again. I promise.”

And with him holding you like that, solid and safe and so sure, you finally believed it.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended

[141ghosted]

Hiii!! Love your work!! I have had this thought of pregnant!reader with the 141 boys or Simon (love them all but Simon is who I marry first 😋🫣

Anyways pregnant!reader x the boys and reader goes into labor while he’s gone and so reader calls them saying their water broke and by the time they get home you ended up having the baby 🫣🫣

Simon Riley x in labor reader ♡

warnings; child birth(kinda in detail) and blood

a/n; this is my first request and its like 1 in the morning🫡 but I have to fufill my duties! ENJOY CUTIES also this is kinda slow and long icl

The clock reads 1:29AM in the morning. It’s cold in the house since the heater recently broke, and Simon has yet to fix it yet, which annoys you but you cant help but not complain since your 9 months pregnant and pushing a week late from your due date and all you wanna do is just get this over with.

You know Simon is at work right now and you feel the empty spot in the bed next to you, feeling a sudden wave of sadness because your husband isn’t here. But never mind that. You stand up from the bed, your throat and mouth feels dry and in desperate need of water, your cold hand grabs the water bottle from the nightstand, just to be disappointed and figure out: you drank all the water.

Slipping on your fluffy slippers Simon got you for your birthday, you make your way to the kitchen, holding your water bottle tightly in your hand.

Not until suddenly your water breaks, and then it occurs to you that you might be going into labor, and its now the time to panic because your husband isn’t here and your probably about to give birth any minute now.

Your first instinct is to call Simon immediately so you whip out your phone from your sweatpants, unlocking your phone and finding Simon’s contact number before PUNCHING that call button.

“Cmon, pick up please!” You mutter to yourself as you start to fell nervous, your body is shaking already from the 20 scenarios being smacked into your mind right now. 1 ring.. 2..3.

“Ye’ its 1 in the mornin lov’, wot’s wrong?” Simon grumbles in a tired but kinda worried tone, you hear him get up to enter a different room.

“My water broke, I don’t know what to do.”

“……….”

“Stay there, I’m comin’ home right now. Just stay calm and I’ll be there lov’ okay?”

The panicking starts to kick in as you sit against the kitchen counter, taking deep breaths in and out and trying to overall soothe yourself, you think to yourself, ‘do I wait for Simon or should I just call an ambulance?’

The first contraction knocks the air out of your lungs, sharp and sudden, catching you off guard as you lean against the kitchen counter. You grip the edge until your knuckles go white, the cool surface grounding you for a fleeting second. You tried waiting for Simon. You’re alone. And the baby is coming.

Another contraction, stronger this time, bends you in half. You slide to your knees, breath ragged, palms flat against the tile floor. Panic flares, but you push it down. There’s no one else. It’s just you. You move fast now, instincts louder than fear. A blanket from the laundry basket. Clean towels. Water, though it’s barely warm.

The pressure builds. Your body takes over. You scream, not because you’re scared, though maybe you are, but because it hurts and it’s real and it’s happening. You bear down. Time stretches. Minutes double. Or maybe it’s seconds. You lose track.

And then, suddenly, powerfully, there’s life in your arms. A tiny cry fills the kitchen, more powerful than the storm outside. You’re shaking, soaked in sweat and tears, but you did it. You brought your baby into the world.

Right here in your kitchen.

You sit on the kitchen floor, cradling the tiny, wriggling bundle against your chest. Your breathing is shallow, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. The blanket around the baby is damp with your sweat, but they’re warm. Alive. Safe. You did it.

You don’t even hear the front door open, just the sound of boots stomping hard against the floor, the breathless shout of your name echoing through the house. Then he’s there.

Simons eyes find you in an instant. They widen, stunned, like his brain can’t make sense of what he’s seeing. You, pale and shaking, sitting on a towel-strewn floor. Blood on your thighs. A baby in your arms. His baby.

Simon drops to his knees beside you, hands hovering, trembling.

“Oh my God,” he breathes, eyes glassy with disbelief and guilt. “You did this… you—alone?”

You nod. Barely. Your voice is gone. You’re too tired to speak.

But he touches your face like you’re made of glass, kisses your forehead like a prayer. Then he sees the baby properly for the first time. His breath catches. He makes a sound between a sob and a laugh as he reaches for the two of you, careful, reverent.

“I’m here,” Simon says softly, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t— I’m here now. You’re okay. You both… you did it.”

You close your eyes and finally let go of the tension coiled in your chest. You’re not alone anymore. He’s here. And the three of you, somehow are okay.

[rose24207]

Beta Squad Bake-Off ft. Lando Norris

Summary: Lando joins the Beta Squad's chaotic baking challenge, where his undeniable chemistry with Y/N leaves everyone questioning who’s simping for whom.

Genre: Humor, fluff

TW: filly (?)

A/N: here’s part 2! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy is though! Requests are open and welcome!

P1

Masterlist

The Beta Squad kitchen was alive with its usual chaos, the air thick with flour, anticipation, and the distinct smell of impending disaster. The guys were already hyped, buzzing about today’s guest. But for you, today was different. Today was everything.

Lando Norris—Formula 1 star, recent Beta Squad collab, and your not-so-secret crush—was back. And this time, he’d been paired with you for a baking challenge. The same Lando who’d slid into your DMs after your shameless video antics. The same Lando you’d been texting ever since. The same Lando who made your stomach flip every time he popped into your notifications.

You’d convinced yourself it was purely platonic. You had to. But deep down, you knew better.

“Alright, people!” Chunkz clapped his hands as the cameras started rolling. “Today’s challenge is simple: bake a cake. But since this is us, expect flour fights, questionable skills, and maybe a burnt kitchen.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sharky said, adjusting his apron. “I’m going for Gordon Ramsay levels today.”

“Mate, you can’t even boil water without setting off the fire alarm,” AJ shot back.

You were trying to focus, but when Lando walked into the room, all coherent thought left your brain.

Dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie, his hair slightly tousled, he looked effortlessly cool. He greeted everyone with that signature grin, but when his eyes landed on you, his smile widened.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “Ready to redeem yourself after that McLaren trivia fail?”

You felt your cheeks heat instantly. “Listen, Norris,” you shot back, trying to sound confident, “I’m not just good at baking—I’m amazing at it. You’re lucky you’re on my team.”

“Oh, am I?” he teased, leaning against the counter.

The guys immediately picked up on the energy.

“Oi, this is suspicious,” Kenny said, narrowing his eyes at you two. “Why does it feel like they’ve been texting?”

“We have not!” you said quickly, too quickly.

Chunkz raised an eyebrow. “That was defensive.”

“Focus on your own cake, Chunkz,” you muttered, trying to ignore the laughter.

The challenge began, and you took charge immediately.

“Okay, we’re doing a chocolate cake with salted caramel frosting,” you announced, pulling out ingredients. “Lando, start melting the chocolate.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting you with a cheeky grin.

As you worked, the chemistry between you and Lando became impossible to ignore. He followed your instructions diligently, but not without slipping in the occasional flirtatious comment.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you said, watching as he carefully measured out sugar.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

Across the room, the guys were losing their minds.

“Why is it so... flirty over there?” Niko called out, pointing a whisk at you two.

“Because Y/N can’t control herself,” Sharky said, grinning.

“Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to face them. “I am nothing but professional.”

“Professional simp,” AJ muttered, earning a round of laughter.

Lando smirked, leaning closer to you. “Is this what it’s always like with them?”

“Always,” you said, shaking your head. “But don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

“Good,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Because I’m not planning on going easy on you, either.”

You froze for a second, his words sending a jolt of electricity through you.

As the baking continued, the banter escalated.

“Lando, do you know how many times Y/N’s mentioned you in our videos?” Filly asked loudly, his voice full of mischief.

“Filly,” you warned, glaring at him.

“Oh, I need to hear this,” Lando said, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “How many times, Y/N?”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said quickly.

“It’s gotta be at least 20,” Sharky chimed in.

“More like 50,” AJ added.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You’re all the worst.”

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m flattered, really. But now the pressure’s on—I can’t let you down.”

“You’d better not,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

When it came time to decorate, the chaos reached its peak.

“Why does this look like a murder scene?” Kenny asked, gesturing to Sharky and Niko’s station, where frosting was smeared everywhere.

“Because they don’t know what they’re doing,” you said smugly, putting the finishing touches on your cake.

Your cake was, admittedly, a masterpiece: a perfectly frosted chocolate layer cake drizzled with caramel and topped with edible gold flakes.

“This is... unfair,” Chunkz said, staring at your creation. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Because Y/N’s secretly a professional,” Lando said, stepping back to admire the cake. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “And because I’m great at following instructions.”

“You’re great at everything, aren’t you?” you said without thinking, immediately realizing how it sounded.

The room went silent for a beat before Filly burst out laughing.

“She’s not even hiding it anymore!” he shouted.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as the guys erupted into chaos.

When the video finally wrapped, the crew began cleaning up, and the squad fell into their usual post-filming banter. You were wiping down the counter when Lando walked up beside you, holding a slice of your cake.

“Want a bite?” he asked, offering you the fork.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Not bad,” you said, grinning. “Maybe you’re not completely useless in the kitchen.”

“High praise,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

For a moment, the chaos around you faded, and it was just the two of you.

“You’re good at this,” he said softly, gesturing around the kitchen.

“Baking?” you asked, confused.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This. Making people laugh. Bringing everyone together.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Thanks,” you said quietly.

He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m glad I came today.”

“Me too,” you said, trying not to sound too eager.

Before the moment could get too heavy, Filly’s voice rang out. “Oi, Norris! Stop flirting and help us clean up!”

Lando laughed, stepping back. “Duty calls,” he said, winking at you before walking away.

As you watched him go, you couldn’t help but smile. Because for once, it felt like maybe, just maybe, your shameless simping was leading somewhere real.

Thank you for reading!

For: @ejamo

[astralis-ortus]

thunders of rage

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡ ⋆ see masterlist

the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.

from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.

“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.

“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”

“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.

so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.

“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.

something stresses you out. bad.

“sure.”

chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”

“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”

the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.

“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.

“you should cool off too.”

and with that, chris left.

it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.

you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.

thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.

but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.

“baby, i’m ho—”

chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”

“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”

peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.

you felt like crap.

“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”

“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”

the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.

some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.

you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.

“kiss me.”

a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi you gorgeous gorgeous ray of sunshine i hope your day is majestic and awesome <3

I come bearing a request hehe

So can i please get a poly!marauders x fem reader where she has alot of work or something to get done lately and its just sucking the absolute lights out of her (uni is beating me up help) and she os sort of just dimmed and out of it and one of them asks her if she is okay and she just breaks down and they comfort her like the sweet loving boys they are (just cuddles and fluff to save my day pls) THANK YOUU

sorry this is so late gorgeous! i hope things are better now!

cw: anxiety attack fluff, stress

924 words

Despite your best efforts, you knew that you weren’t any fun right now. It felt like you were a black hole, sucking all of the joy out of the room with no end in sight. It made you feel horrible, especially since you were surrounded with copious amounts of love and affection. Way more than you could ever hope to ask for, and for some reason, you couldn’t allow yourself to fully appreciate it. You were trying your best, but every attempt at levity didn’t feel quite right. You could see it in your boyfriends faces too, and though they were gracious enough not to comment on it, you knew they desperately wanted to. You even noticed James placating Sirius earlier when he recounted a funny story and your laugh came out awkwardly pitched. 

You were now attempting to relax, but your muscles refused to un-tense. You were laid on the couch, curled tightly into a ball with your head on Sirius’ lap and your legs pressed against Remus’ thigh, James’ laughter ringing in your ears. You resisted the urge to shift around in discomfort, hoping that the more content you appeared the less distraught you would feel. It wasn’t working very well, if the burning sensation welling in your eyes was any sign of that. You squeezed them shut in hopes it would help. You flinched as cold fingers brushed over your face unexpectedly. 

“You okay, babydoll?” Sirius’ voice was hushed and terribly gentle in the way it was when he’s feeling particularly tender. You nodded a little too aggressively to be believable. He cupped your cheek with his hand, the cool feeling of his palm over your heated face being a little too comforting. A crease appeared between your eyebrows and he made a worried cooing sound. 

“What’s going on?” James turned the TV down. You were being watched and inspected and you hated it. You covered your face as the first sob escaped before you could repress it. 

“Shit, baby.” Sirius stiffened. Remus’ large hands pulled yours away from your face. You held your breath to refrain from sobbing, your shoulders shaking. 

“What’s wrong, lovie? Are you hurt?” James sounded panicked. You hated that you were doing this to him. You shook your head. “What’s happened?” 

“I- I don’t know.” You hiccupped. Your lungs were expanding and contracting rapidly. 

“It’s okay, lovely. Can you breathe for me?” Remus pulled you off of Sirius and onto himself. Usually you would hear a slew of protests from the raven-haired boy, but he was panicked enough to stay silent. You landed face down in Remus’ lap as he rubbed between your shoulder blades. You tried to breathe deeper but when you did you just cried harder. 

“I’m fine. J- just give me a second.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing yourself or the boys. 

“It's okay, baby dove. Just let it out.” Remus said softly. You felt James rubbing your head. All the tenderness was too much and you cried harder. You knew you were wetting Remus’ pajama bottoms with tears and snot, but you were too distraught to care. Slowly, your sobs slowed into quiet sniffles and hiccups, and you wiped your wet face, much too harshly for James’ preference. 

“How’re we doing, sweet girl?” Sirius rubbed your calf tentatively. 

“Better.” You said, still choked. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why that happened.”

“Don’t apologize, dovey.” Remus helped you to sit up. “Just take a minute.” You nodded, feeling lightheaded. James passed you a glass of water with a kiss on your damp cheek. You drank it fast, handing the empty cup back. 

“Do you need anything else?” Sirius turned your face to wipe your cheeks again. 

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.” You said, feeling awkward. 

“You don’t have to thank us, baby.” James reached over Remus to grab your hand. “We just want to help, if you’ll let us.”

“I don’t know if you can.” You sighed. 

“Try us.” Sirius said, bordering on challenging. Remus reached his long arm along the back of the couch to squeeze his shoulder in a way that said ‘settle down.’

“I think we can find a way." Remus took a more gentle approach. "You can start by telling us what’s going through that head of yours.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I think that would help.” James said, not giving you time to respond. “We don’t want to force you, but it’s only going to hurt you to keep things inside, lovie.” His eyes were soft and open behind his glasses. It made you feel like you could cry again. 

“There’s nothing huge to talk about, though.” You shrugged. “I think it’s just a bunch of little things, you know?” 

“Well then maybe,” Sirius stage-whispered as if he was spreading classified information. “You can tell us the little things when they come up, before it gets this bad. You couldn’t argue with that. 

“That might help.” You looked down at your hands. “But don’t complain when I start whining over miniscule things.” Remus raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Have you been dating the same Sirius I have?” He grinned and Sirius squawked. You giggled. 

“You’re lucky that I’m more happy about her laughing than I’m mad at that comment.” He crossed his arms and pouted. You laid back down in his lap and smiled up at him. 

“I don’t mind your complaining.” You reached up to touch his face comfortingly. He still scowled.

“At least I’ll have a bitching buddy.” He huffed. 

[popponn]

in perfection and in imperfection.

summary: he is loving, so much so, despite everything and because of 'everything' he calls as you. (a short headcanons of them as boyfriend, again.)

notes: january feels like it will be a busy month for me. in a good way, it's a good feeling. maybe this is also a sign i will meet rl isagi. those things aside, happy new year everyone. good luck for this year too. have this very fit of madness hcs. warnings: none, just fluff of downbad & lovesick boys, reader's gender unspecified.

characters: isagi, chigiri, rin

isagi yoichi—

is so understanding and sharp that you will never feel uncared for. most probably also got a list of your favorite things & important dates in his notes & calendar. even noel noa doesn't get that privilege. he is so downbad that everyone just accepts everything is second to you (and soccer).

is the type that gets so into you once you get his heart. do you worry that you might be #2 soccer? stay still babe, at some point you kind of mix in with 'the soccer' too honestly. every first goal? dedicated in your name. first person to call after a match? you—no matter how short or long it will be, it has to be you. he is away for a match overseas? you better be the one who gets a sleep call schedule ready because when yoichi wants something yoichi will somehow do it. and if you try to praise him—despite all the years of growing confidence—he still gets flustered like a boy with his first crush when it's you. it's as endearing as it is embarrassing to him. if someone points it out he will state it with pride though—after all, his feelings for you are one of his pride.

however, is also the type of guy who would rather shoulder as much as possible. he does it out of love, sure, but having him trying to swallow some problem under the guise of "forcing you to change something is a big no" is just asking for a bigger problem in the long run. so, you do have to be the one who gets the serious talks starting—and he sometimes could get really stubborn even though he is one of the most communicative ones so get ready for that. the thing with yoichi is that he really has to get it to accept it.

chigiri hyoma—

is a beautiful ikemen who walks with the charm of a shoujo manga lead maxed out. as in if this guy falls for you he just naturally acts like a shoujo lead who came to life. and he is also one of the most fashionable guys who puts attention and care on his and your appearance. try to aim for the cutest couple award and high chance you will win.

is also a very dedicated man. he will make sure you know how much he treasures you and it shows. he is not the tidiest person, he is also a pretty demanding guy, but with you? "fine, okay. i'm doing this just for you, you know," he says and hyoma doesn't lie. he will do anything for you. the amount of trust he puts on you is really evident too and he is not one to shy away from saying it. also, trust that this guy will gladly run across tokyo on a lazy monday morning during his rare break just to deliver you anything if you ask. he will demand kisses, yes, but that's also a benefit in its own way.

but, he is also very moody and, admittedly, impatient. so when he gets into this sort of mood you have to keep your head clear and deal with him until his head cools down. he won't hurt you—he will never—but without a doubt his attitude and wording could definitely drag your anger out. he also tends to focus on one thing and one thing only when he gets like this, while it has its benefits, during these times you have to be really patient when trying to talk to him.

itoshi rin—

is the type of guy who truly embodies "it's the small things". also, he is so attentive and combining this with the fact he is more into action than words—you honestly get yourself a gold mine of top-tier 'act of service' bf.

is actually very affectionate once you can translate his silent languages. he is always close to you at every chance he gets. it's not even funny. some people could translate this as some guard dog behavior, some braver souls translate this like a kid following the elder around, but honestly rin just likes being close to you. it calms him down in a way that also somehow manages to keep him awake—which is a nicer way to put 'this guy sometimes barely blinks when he is staring at you'. your happiness is one of his top priorities and he will bite someone literally if he has to just for that. this is how bad it is. but all in all, all of this is a way for him to keep an eye for you and be ready to assist you in anything—you need to take something? you need him to carry something? you want to buy something? just leave it to him, it will make him happy too. if you get overwhelmed? tell him, this guy is actually really quick to adjust things the moment he gets it. and for you? he will somehow do it even faster.

with all that being said though, this guy could get confusing at times. when he gets into a particularly negative thought, his first response would be to bark out his emotions and afterward distance himself. clearly, communication with him is hard. but despite all the silent treatment you get, he still wants to have you close—while being the one who keeps his distance from you. dealing with rin when he is being like this truly requires maturity and delicacy that probably rivals an esper skills.

[xsaltburnx]

It's always been you

(Farleigh takes your virginity)

a/n: so here it is, I'm sorry it took so long, I hope you'll like it

warning: swearing, pure smut, using the word baby a lot (sorry not sorry), P in V, creampie, just basically being obsessed with Farleigh

word count: 3,589

His arms were wrapped around your body and his head buried in the crook of your neck. You inhaled deeply as tears fell from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks, soaking his grey t-shirt. You quietly sobbed into his chest, his one hand gently rubbed your back, comforting you while the other was stroking your hair.

"You know I'll always come back, we'll see each other very soon." He said quietly, and felt your body press up against him even more, if that was possible.

"I know but you're leaving now and the worst part is that you'll be half way across the world and even the time difference, what will I do without you?" You said through sobs, another tear rolling down your cheek, your eyes looking up at him. He looked at you and wiped away your tears with his thumb, his lips curling up into a smile.

"Don't worry, I'll come back soon and you'll join me out there next year anyway and we'll make up for all the lost time while I'm at Oxford. Maybe you'll find someone new to mess with while I'm gone." He teased you and wiped another tear from your chin.

"Yeah right, that's not possible." You hugged him again, this time tighter, your face pressed against his chest. "I'm gonna miss you so much." You whispered.

"I'm gonna miss you too, but I really have to go now." He took a step back as he fixed the bag strap on his right shoulder. "I'll call you when I land, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded and looked at him one last time before he turned around and walked away towards the escalator, getting further and further away from you.

You and Farleigh literally grew up together. His mother and your mother instantly became friends when Frederica moved to America. It helped that you were both living on the same street only a few houses away from each other. Kindergarten, high school, literally inseparable. You did everything together, often spent nights at each other's houses, even in high school.

In 7th grade you were each other's first kiss. It wasn't like you two were in love, you just wanted to experiment a little bit and since you felt comfortable around him, why not. That was the only kiss you two have ever shared. You were never romantically involved and never planned on doing so until his senior year.

You watched him around all these girls and suddenly started to get a little bit jealous. Every time he came to you to say how he's going out with someone, you kinda always wished it was you and that's how you knew you had very strong feelings for Farleigh but you never said anything because you were afraid it would ruin your friendship. You tried to hide it as much as possible, keeping it cool when you were next to him, where you spent the night in his room smoking or just talking until 3 am, it was something you got used to.

You loved watching him focus on his homework, how his curls always stayed perfectly in place, his fingers twirling that yellow pencil over and over again, his eyes scanning the pages carefully. How his eyebrows furrowed when he didn't understand something, but even when he was busy, he always found the time to look at you, even for a second but it was enough to bring out a smile on your face. And a year later, that's exactly what you two were doing, only you were now officially at Oxford.

He was laying on his bed, his head right at the foot of the bed, hanging a little bit down as he placed a cigarette between his lips and took a deep drag, the smoke coming out of his lips in circular shapes. You swallowed hard, your heartbeat picking up its pace inside your chest. God, he's so damn beautiful. You completely got lost in your thoughts, Farleigh's deep voice spreading through the quiet room, but to you it sounded like a muffle.

"You okay?" He turned around so he was laying on his stomach, his hands under his jawline, supporting his head, his feet dangling. You shook your head and snapped out of it, a smile plastered on your face.

"Yeah, of course, I was just, um, thinking about... something." You trailed off and ran your fingers through your hair.

"It's your turn. Truth or dare?" He asked and took another drag, again blowing out the smoke as you watched it slowly evaporate.

"Truth." He chuckled and cleared his throat, a smile on his face. He looked like a child who just got offered their favourite candy.

"Okay, okay!" He jumped up and now sat on the bed, his legs crossed. "The weirdest place you've had sex?" He trailed off, his question catching you totally off guard. Was it personal? Yes. But that was Farleigh so it didn't matter. Little did he know that you actually were still a virgin. You went through thousands of scenarios on how you could ever answer this question. Judging by the look on his face and how long it took you to answer it and how much you stuttered, he figured it out on his own.

"Are you still a virgin?" He leaned forward, a cigarette still burning in his hand, a straight line of smoke slowly disappearing into thin air. You looked down and played with your ring on your middle finger. You started feeling really nervous, thinking Farleigh would mock you for it because let's face it, most of your friends lost their virginity at the beginning of high school but you didn't want to.

"Yes." You answered so quietly that Farleigh barely heard you. He put the cigarette on the white ashtray that was beside him and got off the bed. He sat right next to you, crossing his legs.

"What's wrong?" He saw you looking down at your fingers and how you played with your ring and he knew that you felt uncomfortable. He knew you too well and could always tell when something was bothering you.

"Nothing." You answered quickly.

"C'mon, it's me." He placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, his big brown eyes now looking straight into yours. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat before speaking.

"Can I tell you something?" You asked gently and felt like your heart literally skipped a beat. His hand fell down to his knee, his fingers picking on a single string sticking out the side of his pants. You don't know what has gotten into you but suddenly you felt like you had all the courage in the world just form inside your body, ready to admit how you felt about him for so long.

"Of course you can." He leaned back, supporting his weight with his arms, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"I always thought I would lose my virginity to you. I don't know, it was always in my head how you would be the one because honestly you're the only one I feel comfortable enough to do it with, even if it's just like a friend helping another friend and nothing more."

You watched him just stare at you, his lips slightly parted and you didn't know if he was shocked by what he heard, if he even wanted to have something with you or he would just laugh in your face. But he didn't. He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something, then closed it again and then opened again, unsure of what to do.

"Do you still want me to be the one to do it?" He asked all of a sudden, catching you totally off guard. You clearly didn't expect that from him, never even dream of this actually becoming a reality but the thought of this leading somewhere, to what you wanted for so long was bewildering.

You kept playing with your fingers, an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, was it because you were nervous or was it from the couple of drinks you had a few hours ago, you weren't sure, but you did know that it felt like your heart was literally in your throat. You stuttered and couldn't take your eyes off him. Looking at him like that, sitting on the floor as the moonlight fell so perfectly on his face, illuminating his right side. God, you were so in love with him. He was so damn perfect. No one compared to him, but frankly, you didn't even care about anybody else.

"Yes." was all you managed to let out. 

"Are you sure?" The look on his face was so soft, he wanted to make sure that it was exactly what you wanted before making a move, before he even touched you.

"There's no one else I'd rather do this with. Only you, Farleigh" you trailed off and swallowed hard, your palms getting a little bit sweaty because of the way he was looking at you.

"Come here." He stretched out his hand and gently caught your wrist, pulling you closer to him. You got up and walked over to him, his hands guiding you on top of him, your legs on each side of him as you sat down and wrapped your legs around him. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, a hint of goosebumps rolling down your back. 

"Farleigh, I need to tell you something first." You said quietly and looked down, your heart beating so loud in your chest, you were sure Farleigh could definitely hear it.

"I'm listening." His eyes were fixated on you so much that it made you weak in the knees. A sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes, his full lips so kissable and you were definitely having a hard time controlling yourself. 

"I-... What if-..." you stuttered, having trouble finding the words.  "I've always liked you Farleigh. I mean, for the last few years, I've grown some kind of feelings towards you and now I'm sure that you were more than just a crush." 

You watched as his lips slowly curl up into a smile, his thumb brushing your cheek first and then started slowly moving towards your bottom lip, pressing on it gently as he pulled it down a little, separating your lips.

"I've been in love with you since, well it's been a few years now." He trailed off, never taking his eyes off you. "I was scared you didn't want me that way so I never said anything." He somehow looked defeated. His brows furrowed, his lips parted as he sighed loudly, fear somehow creeped its way into his body.

"Farleigh?" You said quietly, his head bent down a little bit, looking at your legs wrapped around him. 

"Farleigh, please look at me." You placed a finger under his chin and lifted his head up to lock his eyes with yours. "How could I not want you? You're absolutely perfect." 

You slowly inched closer, his lips parted and you felt his hot breath on your face. You caressed his cheek gently, a hint of stubble under your fingertips. You enjoyed that feeling, being so close to him, such an intimate moment and it was finally just the two of you in a way you have always imagined. 

"I want you in every human way possible." You pressed your lips against his, his arms instantly pulling you closer, heat from his body radiating off him and onto you, the room instantly getting much hotter. He pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, a silent moan escaping your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. 

"If at any point you want to stop, just tell me, ok?" He whispered and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your flushed cheek. 

"Okay." He placed his hands under your thighs and got up with you in his arms, your legs still wrapped around him. He walked you both to his bed and gently placed you down as you sunk into a soft and comfortable bed, a few pillows surrounding you. He untied your shoes and placed them neatly next to his bed, while he kicked his, one shoe on one side and the other on the other side of his room. You laughed out loud at his actions, not really understanding what was the point of that. 

You stretched out your arms as a signal for him to come back to you and he did just that. He laid on top, his one arm supporting his weight, while the other cupped your face as he kissed you so gently, with so much passion and then rushed and hungry with lust at the same time. You craved him and you were not letting him get away this time. 

He trailed his hand from your face to your neck and then to your waist, careful to feel every inch of you, not wanting to miss anything. You bucked your hips a little bit and suddenly felt his bulge in his pants, a moan falling from his lips. He smirked at you, your eagerness clearly very amusing to him in some way.

"You're wearing too much." You whispered between kisses, a chuckle escaping his lips as you tugged on his shirt, desperate to take it off.

"Then maybe you should take it off." He replied and moved back, allowing you to grab the hem of his t-shirt and slowly lift it up and over his head before you threw it god knows where. You took a few seconds to admire his beautiful body, everything about him was perfect. The way the hair on his body travelled from his belly button to the place underneath his pants and boxers. You sat up and placed a gentle kiss on his stomach, your fingers grazing the skin on his hips as you wanted to touch every inch of him and worship him like he deserves.You hooked your fingers inside his pants and pulled them down with his boxers, revealing his already hard cock. Your eyes widened at the sight of him because the only thing that was in your mind was how could he possibly fit inside you, You tensed up and swallowed hard, feeling more nervous than before and Farleigh saw that immediately. He bent down and looked you directly in the eyes before he gave you a kiss on the lips, trying to calm you down.

"You don't have to do anything, this night is about you." He whispered in your ear and then took your shirt off followed by his fingers skillfully unhooking your bra, revealing your breasts to his eyes. You slowly laid down on the bed and lifted up your hips, allowing him to take off your jeans and your panties, your naked form now exposed completely to him. "You're so fucking beautiful." he whispered under his breath and swallowed hard. Your gaze fell down to his cock as you saw it hard as a rock, his body shivering a little bit. 

"You ok?" he just nodded and placed a kiss to your lips and then moved to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot as you threw your head back, giving him more access. He nibbled on your neck slightly, his hand roaming over your body, drawing invisible shapes over your stomach before he moved it slightly down to your inner thigh. A feeling you thought you would never feel travel through your body and then even a better feeling suddenly took over. His finger grazed your clit as he slowly started moving it in small circles, the pressure just right. 

You touched yourself before quite often, always imagining what it would be like if someone else was doing it and now there it was, Farleigh touching you like this, you completely succumbing to his being. His eyes were on you the entire time he was touching your clit, getting you closer to your release as each second passed, slowly getting desperate to feel you wrapped around him so beautifully. Your breathing started getting louder, quicker and more shallow and he instantly knew you were getting so close. 

"You can let go, baby." he whispered in your ear and it even turned you even more, if that was even possible. How could those four words have such an impact on you, how could he have so much control over you, have you in such a vulnerable moment and have you think how you would never want anyone else to see you like this. To see how your body convulsed and your inner walls clenched as an orgasm travelled through your body, the feeling of so much euphoria almost too much for you. "That's it." 

You calmed down after a few seconds, his body pressed up against yours, his pelvis constantly grinding up against your hip, desperate for some friction. 

"I want to try something, okay?" He said and you just nodded as you felt his finger travelling down to your opening and slowly breach your cunt. You fingered yourself many times before but his long fingers definitely felt better inside of you. He added another one, gently stretching you out, preparing you for his thick cock. "Damn, you're wet." He whispered and kept moving his fingers,in a scissoring motion.

"Farleigh, I really need you. Please." You practically cried out, clearly so desperate for him and you just wanted to feel him whole, to have him buried inside of you for hours if needed, you just wanted him. 

"Are you sure?" He asked again for like the tenth time that night, but you really appreciated it and at least he wasn't rushing anything and respected your boundaries. You just nodded and pulled him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself , his tip touching your entrance.  "If it hurts too much, tell me and I'll stop."  He trailed off and then you felt his tip slowly enter you, stretching you out completely. The feeling was somehow hard to describe. Did it hurt? Maybe a little bit, but it definitely did sting a lot. You whimpered quietly as he kept going deeper as you felt every inch of him and suddenly felt so damn full. He bottomed out and then stopped, completely buried inside you. 

"Hey, are you okay?" he saw a single tear roll down your cheek, his thumb wiping it away before he pressed around fifteen kisses all over your face, trying to take your mind off the pain happening in the lower half of your body. You nodded and chuckled and after a few minutes felt the pain slowly fade away. It still stung maybe a little bit but now it wasn't unbearable and you wanted him to move. You bucked your hips again and clenched your walls, a groan falling from his lips.

"Farleigh please move." His hips pulled back almost all the way and then went back in at a painfully slow pace, his cock completely nestled inside of you. He pulled back again and then thrusted inside, each time faster and faster until he set a perfect pace, careful not to go too hard because he didn't want to hurt you in any way. 

"Holy fuck, you're tight." He threw his head back in pleasure, his hips repeatedly slamming into you, his tip grazing that beautiful spot inside of you with each of his thrust. You arched your back and wrapped your legs around his body even tighter, trying to get him closer even though that wasn't possible because you two were as close as you could possibly be. "You're taking me so well. baby," 

You moaned out loud and bit your lip so hard you drew blood because you started feeling that incredible and sweet release building up inside you again. Those words, those goddamn words he whispered in your ear turned you on even more and made you want to fuck him like there's no tomorrow. You reached down to your clit and started massaging it in slow circles just as Farleigh did it before, desperate to reach your orgasms while he was still inside of you. 

"Farleigh, I'm gonna cum- fuck!" You threw your head back and arched your back again as you felt your orgasm tearing through your body, your cunt squeezing Farleigh's cock and a few moments later, he let out the loudest moan possible, his hot cum filling you up to the very last drop. He thrusted inside you a couple more times before he pulled out and collapsed next to you, your hearts the only thing that could be heard in that room at that very moment. 

"Are you ok?" He asked and propped himself up on his elbow, his fingers tucking a strand of your hair behing your ear again. 

"Perfect, actually." He leaned in and kissed you gently a couple times before he wrapped his arms around you, your sweaty bodies pressed up against each other. "And we're definitely doing this again and again and again and-" 

"Again?" He interrupted you and watched you as you laughed and nodded. "I agree, but first we need to talk about something."

"I know." You trailed off, your eyes already closed.

"In the morning." He placed a kiss on your forehead and covered both of you with a blanket as you both drifted off to sleep, 

[thehighladywrites]

— “Aren’t you just the cutest?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy/popular reader

☀︎ — summary: You adopt a stray kitten, naming it after someone close to your heart

☀︎ — warnings: fatally cute

☀︎ — amara’s note: Help i got this request earlier today and i just had to write it. This is the cutest thing i’ve ever written. I adore writing for bimbo reader, she’s so cute!!! | based on this request

series masterlist

“Aren’t you just the cutest little thing on earth?” you squeal in delight as you spot a tiny black kitten outside the grocery store.

Bending down, you plop yourself on the edge of the pavement and scoop up the kitten, cradling it gently in your arms.

“Meow,” it mewls, its big round eyes looking at you with an innocent gaze. It has shaggy, fluffy black fur and beautiful hazel eyes, reminding you of someone very dear to you.

“You don’t seem to have an owner, do you? Hm, I see no collar and no one is around. Tell me, kitty, ya hungry?” you coo at it, tilting your head inquisitively, and the kitten mimics the movement in a cute, almost cartoonish way.

Realizing the kitten might not respond to you, you nod your head in determination.

“Don’t worry, kitty cat, you can come home with me. I’ll just get you some food first.”

You glance into your grocery bags and then back at the kitten sheepishly.

“I guess you can’t eat ice cream and sushi, can you?” you say with a giggle, realizing your mistake.

Looking around to make sure no one is watching, you carefully pick up the kitten and gently tuck it into your tote bag. With a nonchalant demeanor, you stroll into the store, doing your best not to attract attention to your feline stowaway.

“Hello, Ms. L/N! Back for some more?” Vanessa, the cashier asks as she notices your quick return.

You freeze, subconsciously clutching your bag as you look around. “Hey, V! I just forgot a little something. I’ll be in and out,” you say nervously, just as your bag meows. You both look at each other in surprise.

“D-Did your bag just meow?” Vanessa asks, raising an eyebrow.

“N-no, um, that was me! I was just bored. Okay, bye V, see ya,” you stammer, trying to play it off as a joke before hurrying further into the store.

You can’t help yourself from getting every single cat toy on the planet, along with every type of food you think the kitten might like. Now, the trunk of your car is filled with toys as you strap the kitten into the passenger seat of your rose Porsche Taycan.

“Okay, kitty. I’ll put on some music. And I don’t know what kind of music you dig, so you’ll just have to listen to Frank Ocean. He’s a really good artist!” you chirp cheerfully, adjusting the volume knob as you drove, hoping the kitten will enjoy Pink+White playing.

Driving into your garage, you park your car and bring your newest housemate inside.

There, you play with him, squealing in happiness at the way he jumps cutely. You praise him and clap your hands whenever he does a cool trick. He even liked the mini bat wings you got for him. The kitten looked so stinkin’ cute in them you just had to take a million photos!

After a while, you get his bowls, fill one with food and the other with water as you sit down next to him, eating your sushi.

“I have to name you something, kitty. I mean, ‘kitty cat’ is adorable, but you need a new name. But just what?” You pout and furrowed your brows, thinking really hard as you lay on the plushy fluffy carpet, the kitten resting on your chest, tired after hours of playing.

As you pat his fur, you wonder what name would suit him. He has black fur and hazel eyes, is calm and collected, just like… Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you gasp.

“Oh my gods, Azzie! Your name is totally Azzie!”

Excitedly jumping up from the carpet, you practically skip over to your laptop, eager to make your new housemate’s name official. After a quick search, you find the perfect pink collar with a heart-shaped tag that says “Azzie.” Without a second thought, you click “Add to Cart” and eagerly wait for it to arrive. After all, Azzie deserved nothing but the best!

—

The next time Azriel comes over, he is greeted by a furry surprise.

As he steps into your home, his eyes widen in astonishment as he spots a tiny kitten sitting on the plush carpet, its hazel eyes mirroring his own.

For a moment, they both freeze in their tracks, assessing each other with a mix of curiosity and wonder. Slowly, Azriel puts down the math books on the counter before he approaches the kitten, his gaze never leaving its adorable face. Kneeling down, he extends his hand tentatively, unsure of how the little creature will react.

To his amazement, the kitten responds by rubbing its nose against his hand, nuzzling into his palm with a happy purr. Azriel can't help but smile, his heart melting at the sight of the affectionate gesture from his miniature doppelganger.

As the cat jumps into his lap, the jingle of its collar catches Azriel's attention. He glances down and notices the pink collar with a heart-shaped tag that read "Azzie" in delicate letters.

A surprised chuckle escape his lips as he gently pets the kitten, realizing that it has been named after him. The gesture warms his heart, and he can’t help but feel a newfound fondness for the furry little companion.

You walk into the room and are met with the heartwarming sight of Azriel playing with your kitten. A smile spreads across your face as you join in, the three of you engaging in a playful game of chase and pounce. Laughter fills the air as you watch Azriel's eyes light up with joy, his usual stoic demeanor melting away in the presence of the adorable feline.

“Oh, Azzie, you two are so freakin’ cute together, I think I might die,” you gush, clapping your hands in delight.

Azriel looks up, a shy smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I guess he's not so bad,” he replies, his nerdy, shy charm shining through.

You giggle, scooping up the kitten and holding it close. “He's the best! And he's just like you, Azzie. Quiet, calm and sweet like candy!”

Azriel's cheeks flush slightly at the comparison, but he can't hide the fondness in his eyes as he kisses your cheek before he continues to play with the kitten. Together, the three of you get to know each other better, happy with the new addition to your life.

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwlyniii @scooobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch

[marc-spectorr]

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped. 

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline. 

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away. 

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is. 

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)