#the tears are from all the affirming messages

[robthegoodfellow]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leo Macallan (@thegravelbro)

The thirst tears and envy when I first found this guy. The vicarious euphoria? And now THIS 🫠

[igbylicious]

knockout [woosan x reader]

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits

summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, reader wears a dress, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through

a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.

His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.

does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess

(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)

Your phone buzzes again. you should come over

for takeout?

idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦

You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.

This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy panties and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)

Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.

But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.

Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.

After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.

You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)

The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.

There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)

And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.

“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”

You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.

And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.

Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.

You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)

But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.

The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.

San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.

(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)

You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.

Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.

Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.

Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.

You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.

More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.

San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.

But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.

Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.

You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.

You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.

Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.

You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.

You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your panties.

“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”

Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.

He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.

San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.

You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.

Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.

It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.

But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your panties aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.

San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”

His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.

“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”

“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.

Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.

As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.

Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”

You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.

San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.

Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.

He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.

San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.

“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”

You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.

Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.

It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.

Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.

It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.

Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.

You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.

You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.

“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”

You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.

Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.

It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.

Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.

“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.

San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.

“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.

But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.

Their treat, of course.

[himegureisu]

calls pt.2

Author's Note: I present to you all part two.

< calls pt. 1

“Where are you?”

His voice in short huffs came through the speaker as soon as he answered your call. In a haze, a medic brought you to the side and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. Your body trembled in response to the situation you’d been in.

“Just give me a location, baby,” he pleaded, eyes scanning the crowd for your physique, “I’m already here. I’ll come get you,”

“Outside the entrance, by the shrubbery,” you breathed out, barely could hold the tears in, and cracked, “Aaron, I need you,”

“I know, baby, I’m on my way,”

His movements rushed through the crowd almost frantic as you started to cry on the other side of the line. Your short breaths and hiccups increased but the moment strong familiar muscular arms picked you up from the curb the incoming panic attack subsided.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, arms tight around you. His scent and presence were the calm after the storm, “You’re okay. I’m here,”

“I was so scared,” you cried. His shirt was drenched in your tears as his started to fall upon the sight of you unharmed, “I forgot everything you told me. I’m sorry,”

“What matters is that you’re here in one piece, okay?” he stripped himself of his jacket, placed it on your shoulders, and handed over the blanket to the nearest EMT, “We can go home when you’re ready,”

In front of you, he knelt and wiped your tears as you gathered yourself together. Just waiting. Once you could breathe normally, you tiredly leaned against his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming you amidst the chaos.

“I love you,” you whispered, and he sighed, placing a small kiss on your forehead, “I love you too,”

“Let’s go home,” you said softly, he nodded and supported you as you made a move to stand, “Let’s go home,”

------------------——— 🔎------------------------—

In the morning tangled between the sheets, he’d laid on top of you. Your steady heartbeat was a balm for his frayed nerves but neither of you was able to sleep until the dawn broke out the horizon.

This tranquility broken in just an hour when his phone rang.

“Should I answer your phone?” you asked. His deep sleep-addled voice rumbled a barely coherent response but affirmed that you could, “Okay,”

“Aaron Hotchner’s phone. This is …” you introduced yourself.

There was a period of silence before a series of excitable giggles, squeals, and gasps came over. They take a deep breath and compose themselves before speaking to you.

“Good morning. We’re sorry to disturb you, but I’m Agent Jennifer Jareau from his team, the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” JJ politely greeted, as Penelope contained her squeals. We know that Hotch left for an emergency, but is there any chance you could convince him to come to follow us on our new case? We need his insight.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure to pass on the message,” you gently stroked his hair, faint snores escaped his lips as he slept soundly, “We had a rough night so I make no promises when or if he’ll come in,”

“That’s okay and we’re sorry for disturbing you,” JJ answered gratefully, as Morgan shushed Penelope and you assured them, “It’s okay he’ll call you for updates later,”

“Thank you. It was good talking to you.” JJ smiled, and unconsciously you did as well, “You too,”

------------------——— 🔎------------------------—

“Are you coming home in time for dinner?”

His smile made its’ appearance the moment he could hear the sizzle of the pan. Those awake in the cabin, namely Emily and Reid, horribly feigned disinterest in the conversation.

“For once, I will, yes,” he answered, staring at the passing clouds outside the window, “What’s cooking?”

“Your favorite for a job well done,” your smiles bloom. His dimples showed and a light tinge on his cheeks had Emily nudging JJ awake, “And me for dessert,”

He sighed.

“Baby, don’t do that to me,” he whispered, why were you such a tease? “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,”

Tags Requested: @aaronhotchnersworld, @burningsongtimemachine, @lillisummers @charmedkim @acn128 @kodzukenie333 @wittygutsy @saint-marvel

[thatfandomslut]

Princess

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Trigger Warnings: homophobia, physical bullying that results in injury, fluffy ending

Frankly this isn't my favorite fic I've written but I have tried my very best.

Request:

HEYYY omggg can i request ANYTHING with regina pls i dont care what it is:3 thank you!!

Synopsis:

After someone hurts the reader, Regina will make sure everyone knows not to hurt her princess.

Mean Girls (2024) requests are open.

Regina George was the Queen Bee at North Shore High. She was confident, brilliant, and ambitious. Regina could bring the entire school to their knees if she wanted. Only one person rivaled Regina George in popularity, and that was the only person Regina had a soft spot for. (Y/n) (L/n) was proclaimed Regina's princess by none other than Regina herself. On her own, (Y/n) didn't feel special, but Regina ensured she knew she was. While Regina lived for the popularity, (Y/n) could care less, but it was nice not to get bullied by the jock branch of the school's social structure.

While Gretchen Wieners was Regina's right-hand woman, as she deemed herself to be, (Y/n) could always be found on Regina's side. Regina was someone who was motivated by words of affirmation and physical touch. So, while she was touching (Y/n) in some way, whether their knees were touching or her hand was placed delicately on (Y/n)'s thigh, she reveled in the compliments she received from her girlfriend. Nothing boosted Regina's ego more than the love of her life, her princess, flirting with her shamelessly at the lunch table, not caring if Gretchen, Cady, or Karen heard.

However, today (Y/n) wasn't at the lunch table, in her usual spot. She tended to have everything ready for Regina by the time she reached the cafeteria. This ensured a few minutes alone as the other Plastics were forced to wait in line while (Y/n) and Regina talked about whatever they wanted without the listening ears of the other girls. Regina's brows furrowed as she looked around and didn't see the girl still. "Maybe she's still in class," Gretchen offered, earning a glare from Regina who sent a message to (Y/n), wondering where she was. Perhaps Gretchen was right though. As time passed, Regina grew impatient and agitated over (Y/n)'s absence.

After all, Regina knew that (Y/n) was present that day. They had walked to their homeroom class and their shared first period together. Tapping her fingers on the table, she was becoming more restless. "I'm going to go find her," Regina stated, standing up to leave. The girls went to follow her, but Regina stopped them. She wanted to go alone, and she didn't need Gretchen's constant pestering during their search. Quite frankly, she was also slightly annoyed over the fact that (Y/n) hadn't answered her text message.

As she passed one of the stairwells, Regina heard sniffling causing her to take a step back to see if it was who she thought it was. "Princess," her voice echoed the area, and (Y/n) looked up. Regina's previous annoyance was now abandoned as she saw the puffy lip and bruising eye adorning her girlfriend's face. Making her way over, Regina took (Y/n)'s chin into her feeling delicately as she wiped away some of the driving blood under her busted lip. "Who did this?" Her voice sounded leveled and cold. (Y/n) wiped a tear from her good eye, nervous to touch her other one since it was still stinging. Noticing this, Regina brushed a gentle finger to help rid the girl of her tears.

(Y/n) was led to the bathroom as Regina cleaned her face up. Only (Y/n) was allowed to be exposed to how gentle she could be. "You still haven't answered me, princess," Regina whispered, examining her face, and searching to make sure there was nothing she missed. "You felt like they had the right to hurt you? I need to know so I can burn them to the ground." For someone who was threatening (Y/n)'s bully, she only sounded calm and caring towards the girl in front of her. (Y/n) knew deep down that she also wasn't going to keep it from Regina. She just didn't want to be a snitch or make things worse. But maybe things were already worse at this point. After all, Regina had the sweetest tone in her voice but the most dangerous fire (Y/n) had ever seen in her eyes.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly wincing slightly when she licked her lip. She had forgotten how swollen and sore it was. "Marianne Hayes," she told Regina quietly, feeling Regina's fingers intertwine with (Y/n)'s. Regina's brow rose, wanting to hear everything that had happened. "She said I was sinning, being with a girl as she walked by me in the hall. So, I told her to say it to my face. That's when she turned and punched me. She got another punch in before her friend pulled her off. She reminded them that I was your girlfriend. Marianne made sure to point out that I was defenseless without you before she left, too. Which I'm not! The punch just caught me off guard and… I don't know. She always says things like that to me." (Y/n) expressed, sighing softly as the bell rang. They were supposed to be going to class, but neither of them moved.

(Y/n)'s words were also a revelation to Regina. Nodding slowly, she listened intently. "What do you mean she always says things like that to you? Why didn't you tell me she was talking shit to you?" Regina questioned. The quirk in her brow never left her face as she stared at her girlfriend with care and worry.

"I guess I never felt like it was important to bring up." (Y/n) muttered, looking away. A clear indication she was lying. There was more, and Regina squeezed her hands comfortingly. (Y/n) could be honest with her. She'd always listen to anything and everything that she had to say. "Okay, I suppose I felt like… If I didn't handle this, she'd be right, That I was just your little dog who couldn't defend myself. I wanted to prove that, yes, I'm your girlfriend, and yes, I'm proud, but… I can also defend myself. When I finally had the opportunity, she punched me."

Regina kissed her forehead in understanding. "You are not my dog. You are so much more than whatever the fuck Marianne, of all people, thinks of you. I will make sure she burns to the ground. You are my girlfriend, princess, and I know that you think you need to do things on your own, but I'm here for you." Regina cupped (Y/n)'s cheek gently. For anyone else in the school, seeing Regina this caring and soft was strange. But for (Y/n), this was her girlfriend. She was always this soft with her. "Now, come on. We're going to my house and we are going to watch a dumb romcom." (Y/n) smiled at this, allowing Regina to lead her out of the school, thankful to spend the rest of the day cuddled up to the blonde with She's All That playing on her wide-screen TV.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What good luck is coming your way?⋆｡.°•✩

‘I’m so lucky

I’m a star

But I cry, cry, cry in my lonely heart, thinkin’

“If there’s nothin’ missin’ in my life

Then why do these tears come at night?”’

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Potential Breakup Song by Aly & AJ

Best Friend’s Brother by Victoria Justice

(There’s Gotta Be) More To Life by Stacie Orrico

Discipline, Courage, Freedom, Communication, Twin Flame, Talking, Family, Plan A Vacation, Two of Air (Equilibrium), Daughter of Air, & Nine of Cups

The good luck that’s coming to your life, pile 1, is balance, confidence, and stability. Some of you could have Libra or Taurus placements. You could have had a rocky upbringing in life but it didn’t stop you from becoming the individual you are today. You could be a very loving person and have a lot to give to others. You may dim yourself down and feel that you are not all that special and often put others on a pedestal, whether that’s a family member, friend, celebrity, or partner. You need to see what’s special inside of you. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, dear. Some of you could have a very close relationship with your parents or grandparents. I’m having a vision of a little kid running to their guardian for comfort and receiving hugs. This is a message for some of you - you guys should visit your old childhood home for abundance or need to call your parents and rekindle the relationship you had with them, they miss you very much. If you have inner child wounds from your family, you need to resolve them in order to make progress. Don’t get stuck in this current phase of your life, you need to embrace change and new beginnings. I’m seeing that there is an intense connection with a romantic interest. Some of you might be in a stagnant relationship that is not benefiting you and it is hindering your growth, I think it would be best if stay single for a while. You are growing up and you are changing, that is a good thing! Some of you have a crush on someone and you are wishing to express your feelings, I see that if you talk to this person, things could actually go very well! Although, you must focus on making yourself happy first before seeking this person. Again, you need to focus on self love first. When is the last time you did something for yourself, pile 1? Make the choice today to be the hero you always needed. Be brave, pile 1. Some of you as a child might of loved the movie Starstruck and Princess Protection Program. You should watch these films to hear the messages in them, they might give you guidance. A father figure in your life may also provide clarity for what you have been feeling. Try to reflect on the relationship you had with your parents and how that results in your relationships with others. A lesson is needed to be learned at that time, once it is completed, you will notice a drastic transformation in your friendships and romantic life. You are going to be secure with who you are as a person and won’t feel the need for others to complete a part of yourself that was feeling empty. Additionally, some of you are wishing to make a bold move. Are you wishing to travel? Take a vacation? A trip to a place you always wanted to go? Now is a good time to do so. Crossroads could be an important film and may resonate with your situation.

Affirmations:

“I can accomplish what I set my mind to”

“I find the inner strength to face fear with confidence”

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Superstar by Jamelia

Love Don’t Cost A Thing by Jennifer Lopez

Whatever You Like by T.I

Loneliness, Love, Money, Courting, Cassette, Love Call, The Star, Ten of Water (Repletion), & Mother of Water

Your good luck charm, pile 2, is the charm of love, fortune, and gifts. There is someone who wishes to come into your life and spoil you. I feel that you are independent and successful in your endeavors. You are good with your finances and you may look high maintenance in appearance (you may own luxury, brand name items, or your style is just very prissy n pretty). You have an admirer that really appreciates how you carry yourself as an individual and has great respect for your accomplishments. I’m reminded of the lyrics from the song She Got Her Own by Ne-Yo ft Jamie Foxx & Fabolous:

“Knowin’ she can do for herself

Makes me wanna give her my wealth”

When this person approaches you, you will look at them like they’re crazy. You might even be offended when they offer you help or try to do chivalrous things. Do not block your blessing, this person can give you access to bigger career opportunities. You have to release your outdated beliefs. I understand you are trying to protect your heart and peace of mind, but how can you make progress in your desired career field without connections? Your spirit guides know you have expensive taste and that you won’t be the only one capable of funding that lifestyle. I’m getting Nara Smith and Lucky Blue Smith vibes. They are both working individuals but Lucky spoils Nara with gifts like designer bags and luxurious items. You give off WAG and video vixen vibes, pile 2. Your beauty is reminiscent of Meagan Good, Christina Milian, Lee Hyori, & Vanessa Bryant in the early 2000s. You could have received a lot of envy from others growing up and was always in the center of gossip. People’s consistent haterade being thrown at you has made you isolate yourself, you were never lonely because you had to be your own best friend. Some of the people who picked this pile were bullied growing up or had a hard time making friends. You are strong and confident but constantly having your guard up out of fear of being hurt is making you miss out on life. Princess and The Frog may be a very significant film that you need to watch. Tiana was hard working and had dreams of opening a restaurant so much that it made her miss out on having fun and spending time with other people, as well as using work as a coping mechanism to cope with her father’s death. It becomes unhealthy when you have the assumption that most people are inherently evil and focusing all your attention on work, allow yourself to make connections with others and have fun every once in a while. It won’t kill ya to take a break, money isn’t the source of all happiness. Changing your mindset would attract more positive interactions within the workplace, college, and in your interpersonal relationships. You know you have great qualities so try to showcase this when having a conversation. Also smile! You have cute facial expressions when you’re not making a RBF lol. You may have a hustler mindset because of being poor as a child but this does not reflect your current reality, pile 2. Some of you may also be pursuing an education, taking courses regarding your culture could provide you with some insight. Turn to your ancestors for strength and wisdom on making the right choices regarding love. You are divinely protected either way so misfortune is not at all in your destiny!

Affirmations:

“I know that I am never alone”

“I commit to the practice of seeing good in all things”

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Stereo Love by Edward Maya ft. Vika Jigulina

Electric Feel by MGMT

Who Said by Miley Cyrus

Judgment, Pride, Past Life, Ice King, Karmic Relationship, The Snake, Five of Air (Conflict), Four of Fire (Perfection), & Mother of Air

Pile 3, with the lucky girl syndrome~ I see that you will be releasing yourself from other people's expectations and instead will pursue your desires. You could have grew up in a strict household and had family members who believed that being successful, wealthy, and having good grades was more important that self expression and being "happy". Financial security was prioritized over emotions and this had left your heart cold. You could be someone who has a hard time expressing their feelings and can be quite feisty when engaging in conversations. I see that you have always wanted to be more of the rebellious one or had to be rebellious in secret. The Bratz movie could be very significant to this pile, you might relate to one of the girls or one of the Bratz is your favorite doll (Jade, Sasha, Yasmin, or Cloe). I also see The Game Plan and Herbie - Fully Loaded for some of you were your comfort movies as a child. Growing up, you might of changed your clothes after your parents dropped you off at school or got dress coded often by your teachers/principal. You could have felt insecure as a child for not being able to dress like the other kids or not being allowed to wear a makeup. You have the power, pile 3. You are no longer this child anymore, this might hurt knowing you never got to experience the same emotional fulfillment other teens/adults did as children, but the good news is you have so much time to make up for it now! Take the initiative today and write down all things you never got to do but always wanted to have and start making a list of methods you could use to make this possible. As long as you put the effort in, anything could happen! I also feel that you compete with those of the same sex. You could come across people that are catty and try to put you down for no reason. You might also have these traits yourself and you need to reflect on how you treat other people, having opinions is normal but being judgemental and making assumptions about others before giving them a chance, is not. You have to acknowledge your flaws and the triggers you have been avoiding. For example, if you know that you easily get pissed off because you grew up in a household where arguing was normalized, realize that behavior isn't healthy. Overall, the good luck that you will be receiving is in regards to your independence and self expression. Additionally, I see you perfecting your craft. Some of you enjoy fashion, science, graphic design, and/or mathematics, you could receive an award or some sort of acknowledgement for your creative ideas!

Affirmations:

"I understand that everyone has their own unique path and challenges"

"I love myself, and I see myself in everyone"

Thanks so much for reading and I wish you the best of luck with whatever makes you happy in life 🍀

[seobsroot]

ENHYPEN’S LOVE LANGUAGES

warnings: profanity

HEESEUNG

loves loves loves words of affirmation both receiving and giving. will kiss your face while saying various things to make you giggle.

“i love you so so so much. you’re the most beautiful person i know. you’re my favorite ever” various kisses were all over your face and you grabbed his face and kissed his lips. “i love you even more lee heeseung. you’re the best thing that’s happened to me”

JAY

gift giving and acts of service. you tell him all the time that he can’t buy your love, but he loves to spoil you

“you got me another big gift? jayyyyy i told you that you don’t need to.” you pouted and he poked your cheeks. “i want to my love.”

“hey did you take my car to get an oil change?” you peeked your head around the corner to your boyfriend scrolling on his phone. “yeah i did. i also took it for a wash and bought groceries.”

JAKE

physical touch. he’s always touching you somehow. whether it’s hand on your thigh, hand around your waist. literally doesn’t matter

“yeah no in the tall grass was ass actually. how did you even like it.” jake slid his arms around your waist. “well i thought it was good.” you shrugged and he turned to you. “get your eyes checked” you pulled his hand off your waist and laced it with yours.

SUNGHOON

quality time. you two could be just staring at a blank tv screen he would be happy.

“well what do you wanna do today hoonie?” you looked up from your place on the couch. “really don’t care. as long as im spending time with you im happy.” you rolled your eyes, “you’re the worst.”

SUNOO

quality time and physical touch. his favorite is when you two watch something and cuddle.

“can we watch this new movie i found?” he asks and you nod. “yeah what movie?” you turned on the tv. “10 things i hate about you.” your eyes widened. “i love that movie so much.” he laughed and your turned it on and he automatically laid you on his chest.

JUNGWON

receiving gifts and acts of service. he’s always so busy and loves homemade things over store bought.

he came home to seeing the entire house cleaned and there’s a gift in front of him. it’s a card with a written message in it. “you’ve been working so hard and i wanted to lighten your load.” he started smiling ear to ear and ran to your shared room and started kissing you all over

NI-KI

words of affirmation and physical touch. loves when you call him your handsome boy and kiss his forehead.

“hey.” you say and he looks at you. you take his hands in yours and look in his eyes. “i’m so grateful for you. you’ve changed my life for the better and you make me so happy. my handsome boy.” you started kissing him and he started tearing up. “i love you so much.” he cried and you started hugging him.

my literally babies idc idc argue with the wall

[jo-com]

🎧₊ ꪆৎ ˚⋆. ➛ The other Woman

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: You’ve grown tired of the baseless rumors that you’re ‘the third party’— worst part is, Charles and Alex doesn’t defend you.

Genre: A little SMAU, Angst, Poly established relationship

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: there are some grammar errors and this is not proofread also I figured i do an angsty fiction bcs i always write about fluff and just wanted to switch things up! Hope you enjoy thiis!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist. (Part 2)

─────── ─ ⋆˚࿔☕️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆─ ───────

Your heart clenched from sorrow as you scrolled further down the comment section— a mixed of different emotions coursing through your mind stream, making your heart and head throb with the growing pain.

Every hurtful banters went straight through your heart, as if they were knives; stabbing you in the most gruesome way.

The tears that you tried to held back is now pushing their way out of your eyelids, ready for them to fall down your porcelain cheeks.

As you red more— the feeling of discomfort subdued your thoughts and was in need of comforting.

So that’s what you did. Finding comfort in something or someone.

You hurriedly exited twitter with shaky hands and went straight to your contacts, ready to find the three of your’s group chat.

Expecting them to make your heart at ease and say nothing but endless affirmations.

…

➛ Message

…

Or so you thought.

You let out a heavy sigh— the stinging sensation in your chest won’t stop and was aching even more with each words that they replied with.

The hurt in your heart caused your pent up tears to pour down your cheeks, making a stream of profound sadness evident in your complexion.

You didn’t get why they were like that to you, i mean they did care even if it were a little, but saying that you’re overreacting is just crossing the line. If it were about them, they’d be all over the place. Things really are just different when it comes to you.

As those thoughts clouded your mind— the fear of being abandoned popped up. Planting an uneasy feeling grow deep in your heart.

…

The following days, you’ve avoided them like the plague— canceling their calls and making excuses whenever they ask you to go out, dismissing them with your lame transparent reasons.

But they didn’t buy it and kept on chatting you in all of your social media accounts.

Even after flooding your messages they still wouldn’t stop, and the same goes with your feelings. The hurt will always stay and keep on following you.

Those days also got you to rethink whether or not your important and do they even have a place for you in their heart. Earning a lot of sleepless days and silent cries; all alone in your own embrace.

The only two person who’ve known about your messy state were lily and alex.

Unlike the two, they were nothing but supportive and was giving you the comfort you needed in the first place. You wished that Alex and Charles was like that;

…

But instead of mopping around all weak, you’ve decided to take Lily’s offer in going out.

Unbeknownst to your two lovers of your whereabouts— still hurt from your previous conversation.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by Lilymhe and 12,789 others

Miss.yn Out of sight, out of mind💋

Tagged; @Lilymhe

View all comments

Username1 ATE THAT DRESS UPP

Lilymhe just wow🤤🤤

Miss.yn Love yaa!!

Username2 they could never make me hate u!!

Francisca.cgomes invites when??

Miss.yn Next time, i promise

Francisca.cgomes 🙄🙄🙄

Lilymhe i wanna go again😢

Miss.yn I know u miss me already🤭

Lilymhe i always do though??

Alex_albon weirdo.

Comments have been restricted

…

After posting your pics and not even 30 minutes have passed when you’ve received countless text messages of Alex and Charles.

…

After that, your whole world seem to be falling apart.

You couldn’t even count the days where you just laid in bed and only stared at the ceiling waiting for the hours to past.

Neither Alex and Charles chatted you after. Leaving a big hole in your heart— a hole that only they can fill.

The break up was a stupid idea but it was either that or stay with a relationship that doesn’t value your feelings. They’ve hurted you, not physically but emotionally and you had every right to be angry.

You just wished that they said something to even comfort your tearing heart.

That’s all you wanted from the start. Words of affirmation and comfort from the ones you love.

Was it too much to ask?

…

Hi i am back, sorry for not posting in a while, i really had this writers block that just couldn’t leave😓😓 hope you enjoyed this angst though!!

[beiibeiii]

cold nights

husband!arlecchino x wife!reader wlw sfw angst

tw : angst, slight comfort, arle makes reader cry, reader is sad, arle doesnt know what to do, arle is bad at comforting but shes doing her best :(

sorry for being gone for ages, not proofread

arlecchino being a fatui harbinger meant that she would often always come home late after you, her 'dear' wife, had fell asleep. she prioritised work over everything and forget the plans you two would make. she often ends up neglecting you, it had been a while since she actually gave you affection, physically, or any words of affirmation.

more recently, arlecchino had been more distant than ever, you two barely talked or even saw each other. especially since she was always in and out the house and taking on unusual working hours. you knew her work was stressful. you understood that, but she would never take your advice to take breaks. you would usually bicker over these subjects over and over again, constantly.

even when today was your 2 year anniversary, today was no different to any other.

you woke up in the morning, alone as usual. the light rain hitting against the window reflected your state of mind. as your hold on the covers tighten, you just silently really hoped she had stayed in bed for just a while longer. not soon later, you got out of bed, the living room was cold since the heater was broken. you'd have to make a mental note to get it repaired.

knowing it was your 2 year anniversary, you had gone out and spent time to buy her a pretty silver ring and an beautiful boquet of flowers. her favourite of course, lumidouce bells. you had spent the whole day waiting for her to come home from work. you laid out your gifts for her on a table in your shared room, excited for her to come home. perhaps she was going to surprise you by pretending to forget.

but the hours passed.. seconds felt like hours.. before you knew it, it was already midnight, you were still waiting.

an gnawing feeling of disappointment and doubt was clawing at your heart. you had already cried a few times today. suddenly, you receive messages from childe. you were rather close with him. apparently, she had been seen around one of the new recruits around zapolyarny palace alot more recently. he thought it was only right to tell you.

you felt like tearing up all again. thoughts of arlecchino forgetting your 2 year anniversary and having an affair plagued your mind. you start doubting yourself as you look in the mirror. all you see are your puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks, glossy from the moonlight casted upon your shared bedroom.

you take a good look at yourself, wondering if you were ever even good enough for the infamous, unfeeling harbinger. you no longer felt like you were even relevant to her anymore.

arlecchino had already entered your home and walked into your shared room. you didnt even notice her presence especially since you so distraught. the second she walked in arlecchino noticed the gift box and bouquet of flowers.

it wasn't until she noticed then, the realisation had actually set in that it was your anniversary today. the intoxicating smell of lumidouse bells filled the air. she felt her heart heavy with guilt. her chest tighten slightly.

she saw you looking at yourself in the mirror, not noticing her. quietly she walks behind you. as she gets closer to you, she sees your teary eyes. she already knew this was all her fault. she felt remose drown out all her feelings, but she didn't show it, of course.

being too lost in your own thoughts, you didnt notice her until her arms wrapped around your waist. you was hit by the smell of her cologne. you flinched a little after being pulled out of your thoughts. you only just remembered you looked like a mess right now.

"my apologies, my dear.." she whispered lowly to you into your ear as she looks at you through the mirror.

arlecchino was warm. a warmth you hadn't felt for a while. you missed the days where she would cuddle up with you in bed, showering you with words of affirmation and just.. talk again. the thought of it made you tear up once more.

you lowered your head, pulling away from her. arlecchinos eyes narrowed with an hint of sadness. she was pained. you didn't want to be mad at her, but you both knew sorry wouldn't suffice.

"you always forget.." you whispered out. you really hoped your voice wasnt too hoarse for her to notice.

she took your hand, gently pulling you in once more. her eyes peered into yours. she could see the disappointment on your face, the puffy red eyes and your tear stained cheeks up close. she ran a hand through your hair, her gaze narrowing. she really wanted to fix things between you two, but she didn't know how to.

"i really am sorry... i got caught up in work-" she mused before getting cut off by you pulling away again from her touch. her hand that was running through your hair fell by her side immediately again. you denied her touch, she felt something stab her heart in a way she hasn't felt before. she didn't like it.

you didnt want to be angry at her. you was just disappointed that she had forgot about your anniversary. such an important date.. the day you two got married.. she had forgotten like she did all the dates you two would of planned and even adjusted to her schedule. you turned away from her.

"you say that all the time..." you replied quietly after a long pause. your voice was shaky despite how much you tried to stabilise it. you felt your throat closing up. that feeling of despair was bubbling in your stomach. you faced the balcony, away from her with your head hung low. you felt your eyes blur from the tears pooling in your eyes. you were a mess.

guilt consumed arlecchino as she watched you turn away from her, your words like a sharp dagger to her heart. she stepped closer towards you. her blackened hands firmly holding your shoulders in hopes of being able to get her words across to you.

"i mean it. please, look at me." she asked you with an subtle sigh of exhaustion.

you shook your head. you felt tears run down your cheek. you tighten your grip your clothes as your let our a breath you didn't know you was holding. arlecchino's lips pushed together subtly. she wanted to say so much, but she was never good at expressing herself. she didn't want people to know she was weak. especially not to you, she was your husband after all.

"childe told me that you have been around this new recruit for the past few weeks.. are they better than me? is that why you always come home late now?" you murmur, quietly with your voice cracking at the end.

your emotions were running wild all over the place. you were unable to control your feelings of anger and disappointment in her right now. arlecchino's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. her front cracking ever so slightly. you couldn't tell but from the inside she was getting panicky. she knows who your talking about.

unfortunately for arlecchino, she just had to work with this stupid new recruit who wouldn't get off her ass no matter how many times she had told her to. she quickly shook her head after being pulled out her thoughts.

"no. that's not it at all. i promise you." she paused, taking a moment to say the right words.

"yes, i have been working a lot more lately, but its not what you think dear." she felt her heart sink deeper the conversation dragged on.

she really hoped you didn't get the wrong idea. she should of known better. she should of just gotten rid of that shameless recruit when she didn't obey her commands to leave her alone.

your teeth gritted together at her words. it was so stupid. you felt like she was just feeding you lies just for the sake of it. you took a shaky breath.

"don't lie to me! you remembered their birthday yesterday and not our anniversary!" you raised your voice at her in anger as you turned to face her.

you could hear how held back your voice was. you didnt want to shout at her. your teary gaze met her stoic ones.

arlecchino stood there speechless, the realization sinking in. she saw the angered look on your face. she never saw it often and she hated it. her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she had indeed remembered that fatui recruit's birthday but not your anniversary. it was only because the recruit kept nagging arlecchino about it.

she shouldn't of listened to anything an pathetic, low life of an fatui recruit said. seeing you in such pain made her heart ache with guilt. she took a step closer, her expression filled with remorse.

"my dear, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to forget. i've just been so busy with work. please believe me, it's not about her-"

"i'm sure it is all about her! i know you were out late with her having dinner on her birthday! am i just a backup to you? is that all i am to you!?" you cry out. you felt your chest tighten.

arlecchino's heart clenched at your words. she was practically dragged into having dinner with her, but she had no romantic interest in the recruit. her eyes narrowed in subtle remorse and guilt.

"no, no, no. dear, your not a backup. not at all. your my priority, you know that already.."

she reached out, firmly holding your shoulders before you pushed her hands off you. she was getting more worried now, she didn't know what to do in moments like these.

"dont touch me!" you sobbed out, your voice hoarse.

"if you want to remember everything related to her and nothing about us, then fine! i dont want to see you right now!" you shouted at her. leaving the room, shutting the door with an small bang.

arlecchino took a few steps to go after you before stoping immediately. she nodded with an sigh as she processed your words. she wanted to reach out, to explain, but she knew she had hurt you deeply.

she knew she had did wrong. arlecchino was angry at herself for letting things get this bad. more sadness that she had caused you so much pain. arlecchino knew you preferred time alone to calm down. she knew it was only right to not see each other for now. she had to think of how to make everything all better. she could hear her head berating herself with insults and comments on how bad of an husband she is to you.

time ticked by slowly for arlecchino. the guilt and worry gnawed at her insides as she waited for you to come upstairs. she knew you needed time to cool down, but the silence was deafening. she replayed the argument in her head over and over, regretting every careless mistake she had made. her eyes drifted to the gifts you got her, a fresh bouquet of her favourite flowers and a pretty ring. she gently slide the ring onto her finger.

fuck you had even remembered her ring size.

arlecchino had taken you for granted, neglecting your needs and your relationship. she couldn't believe she let things get this bad. after two long, agonising hours, she couldn't bear it any longer. she walked out of your shared room and slowly made her way downstairs.

arlecchino quietly opened the living room door. she let out a shaky breath, feeling the coldness of the room. her eyes widened slightly as she saw you asleep on the couch, clutching the plushie she had gifted you not long ago in your arms. the room was dark, and she could see the gleam of fresh tears on your cheeks in the moonlight. the sight of you, alone and sleeping in the cold room broke her heart.

once again, she felt guilt rush to her heart, she knew that the heater was broken. arlecchino silently cursed herself for not being able to sustain you with the comfort and warmth you deserved.

arlecchino carefully walked closer to you, her footsteps almost inaudible. her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your shivering form and the tears rolling down your cheeks, even in your sleep. she could only imagine that your dreams were plagued by negative thoughts, likely centered around her and the argument you two earlier tonight. the despair consumed at her heart, knowing she was responsible for your tears.

gently, she knelt down beside the couch. her hand instinctively reached out to wipe the tears from your cheek, her touch feather-light. she let out a shaky breath, it really was cold here. it was only then she had realised it had been weeks since she had been this close to you. the realization of her neglect only fueled her guilt. she gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her fingers lingering on your skin longer than they should of. she felt warmth bubble within her after being away from you for a while.

she really had to make up for everything, tenfold.

arlecchino thought it was only right to start showing she did care. she was never good with her words, just her actions. carefully, she lifted you into her arms. she carried you out of the cold room. her narrowed eyes softened slightly as she looked at your tear-stained face, still asleep from exhaustion.

quietly, she stepped into your shared bedroom and gently laid you down on the soft, warm bed. ensuring not to awake you from your sleep. as she tucked you under the warm covers, her heart swelled with love and guilt. arlecchino wanted to sleep with you. hug you and whisper sweet things into your ears. make it all up to you and take your pain away.

but not just yet. she knew she had no right to be near you just yet, especially not after all the pain she has caused you the past weeks. she had to respect you and give you space, for now. she thought it was only right if she got a taste of her own medicine. to atone to her mistakes.

she left the warm shared bedroom, closing the door with a soft click. arlecchino stood in the hallway for a moment, looking at the closed bedroom door. she took a deep breath, readying herself for the cold night ahead. she slowly walked down the stairs and settled back onto the cold couch in the living room.

she felt sick for leaving you alone so often. the couch was uncomfortable and cold, but she knew the night tonight was not as cold as the nights you had to endure without her.

she would take the week off for you. she will make sure to shower you with love and apologise to you. she will make sure to make up for forgetting the anniversary.

she may not always be the most expressive, but she wants to make sure you know she cares. you were the only spark in her life and she never wanted you to blow out.

she silently promised to show you the love and care you deserved, starting from this moment forward.

tbh i only thought of this bc my radiator was broken 😭

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Hey there👋👋 could you please do whatever love language of the bamboos are ??

LOVE LANGUAGE OF THE BATBOYS

A/N: terribly sorry I let this request collect dust. My interest in comics fell as life got hectic and whatever the hell. I won't go all Wattpad author on you.

Dick Grayson’s love language is words of affirmation. At the peak of his characterization, he is a man ravenous for praise and attention. A moment of peace, of relief, of sweetness.

Stunted, yet too grown for his own good—simultaneously. He will seek attention, showering you with gifts and compliments in hopes that you reciprocate. Holidays would read like a HallMark movie that would move suburban mothers to tears.

Dick is also the man to send romantic quotes stolen from Pinterest, and the occasional confusing poem of his own hand. His nerves would grind as he read the ‘’seen’’ stamp beneath his text, worried out of his mind that it didn't properly convey his emotions, his love.

“What, no reply yet? If you're that moved, you could always come kiss me.” He'd send the message, playing it off as a joke. But his stomach groaned with the familiar ache, that cold and empty feeling of uncertainty.

What if she doesn't like it? Will she still like me? Would I seem lame if I double texted? Am I bugging her?

The flames of self doubt would spread and eat at his mind until his phone pinged with a,” it's beautiful, babe. A hard read, but the intention was there.” And a flirtatious emoji paired with it.

Thus, the flames of doubt were stomped out, like they never existed. They liked the poem, and he would spend hours rereading it. Marveling and gushing because you liked it. Something he made.

Jason Todd's love language is acts of service. It's a loyalty thing for him.

Gift sharing could be manipulation; soft words could be lies, and he's too self-loathing to believe them anyway. Red Hood swallows his spare time, and his desire for touch swung on a pendulum—one side thirsting for it, the other side uncomfortable.

The thought of returning home to a nice and warm meal would make him melt into a puddle. Or finding his hero suit washed, and his gear cleaned and stored away.

It reignites a flame in his cold eyes, the domesticity calling forth an unclassified emotion that sent goosebumps blazing over his skin like wildfire, calling his arm hairs to attention.

Jason would return the favor. You would awake to find breakfast made, the aroma of bacon and eggs thick in the air, the sweetness of syrup carrying around the house. Scalding tea trickling into a pot, milk and sugar already on the table. Plates washed and set.

Jason would also do laundry and iron clothes. He gets those random bursts of energy (or adrenaline) and cleans the entire house spotless.

Baths would be drawn for you, and if he's feeling lavish, he'll add roses to the bubbles. The finest soaps would lather your skin, scented with the the best smelling perfumes—business was good, and it was a present. His calloused fingers would be overjoyed to massage your scalp (he hoped you'd do his next).

Tim Drake’s love language is quality time. Also, I would like to preface this section by admitting I haven't read much of Tim.

He would help you study. Textbooks adorning the wooden table after hours of quizzing. Coffee steaming in a mug, pens and highlighters scratching at paper. Kisses shared with each right answer.

He'd tease,” Oh, that was a hard one. A trick question.” A smirk, sweet as frosting would tug on his lips, then a warm kiss would swallow yours.” If I were as filthy minded as Jason, maybe I'd crack a joke.”

Tim’s gaze would find you, in the middle of whatever—washing dishes, doing laundry, exercising. They'd burst with amorous passion, like exploding stars, shimmering and twinkling in his irises.

When the sun kisses Gotham goodnight, and the moon assumes it duty, he'd find himself wishing he could be beside you. Not Batman, not Dick, certainly not Damian. That's not proof that he hates his colleagues or that his work is last on the list of priorities. It's just. . . you're higher.

“Hey, love,” he'd speak into the phone, after the voicemail prompted him.” I know you're likely sleep tonight. But I wanted to at least call and tell you to sleep safe and warm. And to save space for me.” A chuckle would roll of his tongue, the wailing of police sirens in the background.

Damian Wayne's love language is also quality time.

Time is precious to him. His mother’s presence was unreliable. He, his father, his siblings tango with dead every silvery night. Each misfortune in his family reminded him of that.

Robin is not what Dick thinks. It's not just bursting into hideouts and knocking the crap out of villains. The peril is real, as well as the potential for failure—and failure in their line of work means death.

Oracle was paralyzed in a second, one wrong move and her nerves were shot. Jason’s life was quite literally put on a clock, killed by time itself. When Damian was an assassin, it merely took seconds to end a life, one of emotion and desires and opinions—gone at the stroke of a blade.

Time matters.

Damian would try to spend all of it with you, doing anything. Attending museums, painting you, listening to your playlists. Finding the child he was depraved of for so long. Being an angsty teenager and loving it.

“This is considered fun?” A dark eyebrow of his would raise teasingly. There you sat, at a sport's game, the roaring crowd trembling the stadium and stabbing his ears. The golden beam of the sun roasting both you, and the overpriced popcorn tossing and gurgling in his stomach.

But, deep down, the liveliness of the crowd intrigued him. Even he'd find himself screaming along with the masses on their feet, yelling out praise or curse words.

Damian's jade irises would slide over to you, the sheer glee decorating your features. A painting. He'd see a masterpiece in you; how that expression would translate onto a canvas.

[widowlyy]

im such a sucker for mob boss!nat because like, badass woman who can kill someone quickly, but i've been thinking of serialkiller!nat with innocent!bestfriend!reader. Like hear me out real quick? You're completely oblivious to who the woman beside you is, she works alone, and word has spread that there's a killer on the loose and whats more odd? Its people you all know that went missing to be found dead in the city. Your poor neighbor is gone; you found out she was killed when the police came by to interview you and you were shaken and in tears because not only was your neighbor the sweetest, she brought treats like cookies and pie over because you struggled to cook sweet treats. After the police were gone Natasha shows up afterwards everytime to soothe you. Imagine Natasha asking you frequently weird questions like, "What would you feel if I slaughtered you right now?" And you do nothing but try to laugh it off, anxious enough to go "Funny joke," and you don't even know she's joking. But she always affirms at the end, "Don't worry princess, I'd never kill you," And you totally believe her because Natasha has grown to be the woman in your circle, the first person to go to when a situation rises at work, the person to go to when your friends ghost you (after they get terrifying messages from a blocked number with threats about interacting with you) and its always her that you end up cuddling with at the end of movie nights and refuse to let her go because this? This is all she wants. Just you. It also isn't the fact that she is always there when you aren't in the right mindset, you feel shitty and wanna end it all? Natasha randomly shows up and does stupid activities with you. And she shows up with your favorite snacks And the only time you find out is when she takes advantage of your drunk mind, and shes lazily thrusting her fingers up into your cunt and all you hear is, "Mmm, I wonder how your friends would've felt if they were in my position right now. But it's too bad they can't, I had to forcibly get rid of those who was in my way, blood in my hands or not," and you're too even cumdrunk to even recognize what she said, too focused on the pleasure that she openly admitted to killing all of those close to you. ugh, i might write this, might not.

[gigi-loveless]

could you maybe write something about abby comforting reader because she has past trauma from being in a toxic relationship?

kind of like reader does something wrong and freaks out but abby like helps her?

of course baby! hope you enjoy ‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

warnings - talks of past toxic relationship, dark inner thoughts

authors note - my messages are always open for all of you, no matter what.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

the rejuvenating breeze whisks through the french doors that enter out to abby’s backyard. it’s been a quiet day, abby needing to go to a work meeting early in the morning, so you decided to help out and do some chores to surprise her when she arrived back home.

humming along to the taylor swift song soaring over the radio, you pluck out the sheets you just washed, going to throw them straight into the dryer before noticing the pinkish hue plaguing the typically bright white fabric.

darkness washes over your once bright demeanor, knowing that abby spent a good amount of money on those nice sheets with the high thread count. you rummage through the washer, fishing out your bright pink shorts you thought you threw in with the last load.

stupid bitch. this is all your fault. you deserve this.

the sound of the garage door opening, and abby’s keys jingling in the door makes your stomach turn.

“hey babe, brought you a coffee!” abby hums, turning the corner into the laundry room where you’re hyperventilating over the open washer. the dizzying weight of what you just inflicted crushing you.

“hey hey hey,” she coos, setting your coffee down on the ironing board, engulfing you in her endlessly broad arms. “tell me what happened.” the blonde girl insists, wiping a stray tear from your eye.

“n-no…no!.” you sob, mascara stained tears dripping onto abby’s luckily dark button up.

“okay, okay….” she replies, smoothing down your hair and lifting you up to sit on the washer. “can you breathe with me? that’s it, good job.”

abby knew about your last relationship well. she figured it out pretty quickly after you cried the whole night over dropping a glass one of the first times you slept over. but abby’s abby, and she would go to the ends of the earth for you. so that next morning she spent on youtube watching other women who recovered from toxic relationships, trying her best to understand where your nightmarish thoughts come from, and how she can assist in handling them. she knows the ins and outs, and always insists on doting over you, even when you express that you feel like a burden.

“deep breath in for four…i know, hold it for four…out for four…hold it for four. can we repeat that?”

you nod, pressing your forehead to abby’s, connecting your breath.

“m-m’ sorry abby…..i-i just wanted to help,” you pant out, “and wash your sheets but i’m stupid and- and i stained them pink.”

you wince, preparing for the worst reaction possible.

but it’s abby.

running a calloused hand over the stained sheets, she starts giggling.

“well, pink is your favorite color isn’t it love? now i’ve got a piece of you in my room.” she affirms, swiping a stray tear from your eye. “and you’re not stupid at all. it was an honest mistake baby and besides, they’re just sheets.”

“y-you’re not mad?”

“wouldn’t dare to think it.” abby reassures.

all that tortured your spirit mere moments ago immediately melted away into abby’s honey sweet manner. “c’mon, i brought you some coffee from that new place that opened down the road, you wanna try it?” you nod, as abby helps you down, pulling you into her pine scented chest and pressing her lips tenderly to your hairline.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

join my taglist!

@abigails-gf @ellies2missingfingers @ellieslob @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrr @cowboylikeabi @pretty-forest-nymph @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @luvhyekook @peachesnbows @drunkonnatasha @seraphicsentences @elliewilliamsmaingirl @asmrgirll

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter one: hi it's me you're all in danger summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) pairing: f!reader/task force 141 next chapter

as a longtime charli xcx fan, can't say i expected my brat autumn to be spent writing about the cod mfs 😭😭

-----------------

10 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

Somehow, being surrounded by opulence, prestige, and elegance made particular four men currently seated in the back of the space feel a bit out of place.

But they were here on a mission.

Or rather, a job now.

The days of being out on the field in camo fatigues were of the past. Now they were all seated together in suits–black and white, jacket, tie, pants and polished shoes–gin and lemon water on the table.

There was a bit of restlessness in the air and it was starting to spill out in the conversations shared amongst the four.

“Simon, would it literally kill ya to show yer mouth, man? Dae ya want the lass to think yer sick as a first impression?”

“A bit of mystery could be fun, no?”

“Are ya Scooby fuckin’ Doo or somethin?!”

“Johnny, can you keep it down? Your mohawk’s already gotten us enough looks as it is.”

“And what’s so wrong with a lil’ business casual, Kyle?!”

“Can you muppets keep it down!?”

The harsh lash of Price’s tongue had postures straightened and lips hushed.

With a sigh, he brought his fingers to his temple, wondering how he managed to save the world over and over again with these three. Still, his eyes flickered to his watch as he checked the time, a conversation from a month ago coming to mind.

“Price.”

A hand was extended out to him. Fluorescent lights at the American embassy in Paris hung above. Murmurs of French and English lingered in the air as the day proceeded.

Price grinned, returning the exchange with a firm handshake. “Miller. Good to see you standing, old friend.”

Moments later the conversation was held at Miller’s office, a familiar place during the times Price had visited. What stood out to him most was the newly framed photo of Miller and his blushing bride, Priscilla.

A miraculous matrimony all things considered.

Miller, an American ambassador. Priscilla, an activist whose loud and mighty voice helped push for change within socio-political and environmental spaces.

It wasn’t as if it was absolutely impossible for the two to meet–rather, it was just the fact they met after being held hostage alongside other world leaders and activists during a goodwill gala held at Berlin. Terror wished to deliver a haunting message to all of the world, with similar sieges held at other massive events, but thankfully the work of 141 and other allies blocked the reception.

Price glanced down at Miller’s desk, where a few pictures of a glamorous woman were splayed across files: a pop star by the name of Dollface. Formerly part of beloved girl group 4EVA, now setting the music scene alight with impeccable music production, godly vocals, and captivating choreography.

Or so he’s heard.

Right beside her was a clipped out headline from a newspaper:

Glastonbury Saved! Tragedy Averted from Terrorist Threat!

A job well done–courtesy of a certain phantom soldier.

“–I know your days of military campaigns are over, but this has been tearing Priscilla apart,” Miller sighed morosely. “While I know this is the fault of no one and she understands that change in the world comes at a cost, the fact that terrorists would target her niece’s festival performance has been haunting her.”

“Revolution does not come easy, that’s for certain,” Price mused as he glanced over at his friend’s face with an affirming nod. “Even so, it’s something still worth fighting for.”

Miller sighed out in agreement. “Of course.”

“So then.” Adjusting his posture, Price then continued, his tone light, “What can I and a few recently retired soldiers do for you, mate?”

His shoulders relaxing, Miller then reached down for one of the photos of the pop star, pushing it over towards Price. “Watch her. Protect her, please. She’s been an anxious mess ever since Glastonbury.” Gazing down at the newspaper headline clipping, he continued, “Her career’s at such a critical point and her first solo world tour’s been delayed enough as it is. Pressure’s everywhere–label, fans, the media. I know she wants more than anything to finally move forward. But–”

Gingerly picking up the photo, Price took in every single detail of the woman.

Of you.

Turning his focus back to Miller, he grinned, brows raising. “A bit of Price Protection and Co. could do wonders, yeah?”

“You’d be doing miracles, friend” was the response received, along with a vigorous nod.

Price held out his hand.

“It’s a deal.”

And now, the gang was all here, even though the gang was currently driving Price up the wall. Still, if there was anyone who he trusted to get the job done on behalf of a dear old friend, it was Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.

Or rather, from here on out: Kyle, Simon and Johnny.

It didn’t hurt that the gig paid quite handsomely–your label desperately wanted you to get back on stage one way or another. Since the Glastonbury incident, you’ve since been spending your days in London, far too afraid to leave anywhere. The plan was to slowly draw you out of your shell by planning all promotional endeavors around the UK before you would travel the world as intended.

Before any of that however, the first key matter of business is for the five of you to meet together.

10:15 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

“What do you lot think? Full glam or lowkey?” Kyle spoke up, now peering over to look at Johnny’s phone, who had brought up one of your music videos.

Price glanced over, seeing slick skin, big curls, gyrating hips, rouge lips, white heels, and sparkling eyes.

Such visuals were definitely not on Miller’s desk when discussing the job.

“Like right now?” Johnny queried back.

“Lowkey without question.” Simon folded his arms across his chest, his eyes peeking at Johnny’s phone, his expression reflective.

A sudden tap on the back of Price's shoulder just a moment later soon caught his attention. 

“Mr. Price…?”

He immediately turned back, the others following suit.

Johnny’s eyes widened, immediately switching off his phone to shove into his pocket.

Lowkey was correct.

A cap, oversized t-shirt with shorts hidden beneath, hair down, tennis shoes, a pair of sunglasses that were soon slipped off.

The contrast between who they saw on screen to who they were seeing now couldn’t be any more apparent.

Still, even by the way you stood before him, posture shrunken back slightly, eyes a bit downcast, voice softer than the usual bubbly vocals of your music, there was this grace, this aura that you exuded–one that spoke of a true bonafide performer rather than a mere average person.

Smiling warmly, Price held his hand out towards you for you to shake. “That would be me, dear.”

“Uncle Miller’s told me lots about you.” You smiled, bringing your hand up to take his.

So much smaller than his, he noted to himself, chuckling as he responded with, “I hope they’re my finer moments.”

Giggling in response, you affirmed, “As he said, only the best unclassified stuff. I’m Doll–” You quickly stopped yourself, opting to give your first name instead.

“Face pretty like a doll’s still,” Johnny murmured over to Kyle, who nodded in agreement.

Simon didn’t say anything but instead allowed his arms to rest by his sides, continuing to quietly observe you.

A world-renowned pop star with four former soldiers tasked to serve as her bodyguards.

Should be an easy enough job.

-----------------

thank you for reading !!! i know i tend to not really do multi-chapter pieces but idk the ghost of brat summer took over me after seeing a clip of soap and simon banter so i've been genuinely locked in with writing out this tale 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

subsequent chapters are going to be loosely tied together but i hope you enjoy my take on cod yumejo with this pop star otome 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

next chapter's up next friday !!! 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I have gotten so many messages from folks who see what's happening to Jews right now, how literally any statement from us that isn't straight up "death to Israel!" "tear it down!" "river to the sea!" etc. - no matter how tempered in other ways or critical of the Israeli government it is - anything even mildly supportive of the terrorism victims/their families in their grief and/or Israelis deserving to live is getting dog piled to an absurd degree. And yes, that primarily targets Jews (because we're the ones primarily speaking on it) but it definitely is also hitting anyone not Jewish who says this as well. Immediately, overnight, the left has made any position that respects everyone's human rights and allows Jews room to grieve our murdered and missing family and friends without telling us they deserved to die in terrible ways completely radioactive. Like literally even the most milquetoaste statement attracts numerous hysterical commentators. And because it's so toxic, people are afraid to speak up.

And I've now heard from a lot of gentiles that they had no idea how deep the rot of leftist antisemitism went, how they've been seeing this unfold with horror, and are afraid to speak up.

Here's what I'll say: those messages give me a lot of strength, because they help me remember that I'm not insane, that this is horrendous, and we are seeing in real time exactly who would have helped the Gestapo find us if they were sufficiently convinced that this is "decolonization." That yes, the backlash really *is* that bad. I hear that affirmation and I appreciate it, and I understand your fear, because it was mine too. I myself strongly considered at the beginning not saying anything about this until I could do so without being harassed. (I decided against that because I am physically incapable of shutting up when it pertains to my people, but I understand the sentiment.)

Here's the thing: this is never going to end - those people who take seriously the question "are Jews people?" are going to be the vocal minority unless and until we all speak out. Jews are 2% of the US population and 0.2% of the world's population - there are literally more self-identified Nazis in America than there are Jews. I would honestly be surprised if there weren't more horseshoe theory leftists in the world than Jews also.

That being the case, we really do need our allies to speak up with us. I think if we all spoke up at once, it might be enough to break the silence-taken-as-agreement and shame everyone but the avowed antisemites (rather than the thoughtless and opportunistic ones) back into keeping their antisemitism under wraps. Which does have the effect of bringing the mob under control. Jews have faced a ton of mob violence in the form of pogroms throughout our history and backlash to Jewish victimhood. (Tl;dr - "How dare you make me consider how I might have benefited from or been complicit in hurting Jews? This is actually the fault of the Jews." is a disturbingly common thought process.) (You may also be wondering what I mean by "opportunistic;" I can explain in another post if people are interested.)

I know it's scary. I am well aware that you might lose friends from this. I personally decided that if those "friends" valued Jewish lives so little, they were never my friends to begin with, but it's different for non-Jews. They may genuinely be your friends. I'm not demanding you do this for me or my community, but I am asking you to consider what your line is for your friends. And if you are able to talk to them, to ask them what makes this group different from all other groups in terms of deserving compassion and human rights, it may just help us to quiet the mob.

And, if nothing else, just privately reminding those of us who are speaking about it that we are grounded in reality and compassion helps combat the mass gaslighting going on.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Mean Messages

Your family is mean to you and Remus is protective. blunt!remus x shy!reader, fem!reader, somewhat modern au

cw: mentions of toxic family/verbal abuse. A few swear words, self deprecating thoughts.

1.3k words

He hadn’t meant to see the text, honestly. He was just borrowing your phone to look something up when the text had flashed across the screen. 

At first he was confused, forgetting it wasn’t his phone he was holding, wondering if he had changed his parents name in his phone to a different honorific than usual and forgotten. Secondly, the content of the message confused him. It was aggressive, surprisingly cruel, and downright insulting. 

Then his confusion morphed into upset, when he realized it was you who was receiving the text. It was somehow more offensive knowing that someone was talking to his girl like that. His heart flared and ached to know that his sensitive dove had to read things like this, especially when you cared so much what family thought and how all you wanted was for them to love you. He didn’t know how to respond. 

Part of him wanted to answer the text himself and give your family member a piece of his mind. Another wanted to delete the message so you would never have to read such mean words. Most of all he wanted to tuck you into his chest and keep you away from all the bad things that could hurt you. He didn’t have time to settle on a response before you came back into the room. 

“Hey Rem, can I see my phone? I think Marlene was going to send me something funny she saw.” You pressed a kiss to his fluffy, mousey brown hair before reaching for the device. Remus just handed the phone over, deciding it was best to just let you read the text so he could be there when it makes you sad. You held the phone, still smiling brightly as you pulled up your messages from Marlene. You giggled as you looked at the video she had sent. Then, he saw a few more taps of your fingers before your face fell. 

“I think someone else messaged you too, I saw a text flash up while I was searching for that thing.” He could see the panic flash in your eyes at the thought that he had seen the text.

“Did you read it?” You asked nervously, looking down at your socked feet. Remus decided to just put you out of your misery and talk about it. You didn’t always let him into your mind as much as he would like, maybe he could start to change that by taking the lead. 

“Yeah dovey, I did.” He gave you a sad smile, emotion swimming in his honey colored eyes. 

“Oh…” You trailed off. You didn’t know what to think. A small part of you was happy, as much at it ashamed you. Happy that he had this peek into your pain that you didn’t have to go through actually telling him. That maybe he could fix it and you wouldn’t even have to ask. But mostly you were worried. Worried about him asking questions and aggravating recently scabbed wounds by talking about it. You also worried about his opinions on the sender. Sure, you had your own issues with your family, but it seemed like when other people found out what your family was like they said all these scary things. They would mention words like toxic, cruel, unhealthy, manipulative.

Sure, those words sounded right. It made sense in your brain. Part of you even felt relieved when other people took issue with your family, like they were affirming all the pain and tears shed over their words and actions.

But the little “what if?” in your brain told you that maybe your family was right. Maybe you’ve tricked yourself and everyone around you into thinking you’re good. 

What if Remus read the message and agreed? 

What if he is about to tell you that all the things your family says about you are true. That you’ll never be good enough, that you’re a disappointment to everyone around you. You’re a burden on everyone and-

“I can hear your mind going a mile a minute, sweet thing.” He was looking at you with all the tenderness in the world. Remus thought you looked like a kicked puppy, all sad and reserved. He was trying to keep calm but his anger was brewing. No one had the right to talk to his girl like that.

He beckoned you over to sit on the couch next to him “What made them say that to you?” He asked gently. 

“I don’t even know anymore. We were just talking and then it turned.” You stared down at the phone in your hands, eyes scanning the text over and over again. 

“Well, my opinion biased by you being my girlfriend,” He smiled at you, leaning down to meet your eye line. “But, I think that if they can’t get their feelings across without being horrible to you, then maybe you shouldn’t take their feelings to heart, yeah?” He continued to scan your face, looking for emotion. 

“Maybe.” You acknowledged his sweetness a little, though only for his benefit. Either way, he seemed happy at that. “But they do love me, you know? At least they say they do. And they’ve known me my whole life. It’s at least true to them.”

“Maybe.” Remus forced out, barely even wanting to entertain the thought that the rude message had any basis in reality. “But maybe they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Or it’s easier to blame their shit on you than to do the work themselves.” He said the whole response in an even tone but the bluntness caught you off guard. Your eyes widened in shock. 

“Remus, it’s not that simple. They wouldn’t be so upset if I didn’t do something.” You tried to keep your voice from quivering, still doing everything in your power to not keep his gaze. 

“Maybe you did do something. But who’s to say it was wrong? Really think to yourself. Dovey, when you think of nice people, people you want to be, is it them? Would you send a message like that to someone? Someone who just wants to show you love? Because I know that’s all you want. You’re always trying to appease them and do right by your family. But you can’t spend your life begging for love from people who don’t have any to give. You aren’t responsible for them not being able to love healthily.” 

Something in his words made you start to break down. Your face scrunched up awfully and your throat was clogged with emotion. Remus wasted no time pulling you into his side. 

“Just because they’re related to you doesn’t mean they get to treat you like that. Sometimes, when someone speaks to you like that, it says far more about them than it does about you. I think-” He paused, searching for the right words. “I think, from what you’ve told me, they have a lot of pain. And I think that they need a way to feel better, a way to feel big, and they don’t know how to without making someone feel worse. I’m sorry they’re taking it out on you, baby. You don’t deserve that.” He punctuated his point by pressing kisses all over the top of your head. You breathed out shakily. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. If Remus wasn’t so close he might not have heard it. 

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.” He was being extra mushy with you today, you could tell. It was funny, his sweetness felt so foreign. Almost unsettling. Though in the time you’ve been dating you’ve grown used to his small signs of affection, Remus could tell that you hadn’t grown up with many kind people, so he went out of his norm to be as adoring as you deserved in his mind. 

“You’re being very sweet considering how blunt you were a few seconds ago.” You chuckled wetly. 

“It’s the duality of manhood, dovey. And besides, I’m only this sweet on people who deserve it.” He pulled your cheek to his curled up lips so he could cover more sweetness over the side of your face. You could both worry about the text later, he needed to chase out all the nasty thoughts first.

[maraa755]

'Odd Creature' | Sirius Black x Reader

Pairings: S.B. x Fem!Reader Warnings: N/A Type: Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 1.8k Synopsis: After hearing a particularly cruel rumor about Sirius’s infidelity, you retreat to the Black Lake, where you are comforted by a shaggy black dog.

Sirius was known throughout Hogwarts as someone who could be considered a player. You knew this—everyone did. Yet, this fact didn’t stop you from forming a relationship with him.

Nearly four months into your relationship, everything was going smoothly. He was sweet, caring, empathetic, and most importantly, absolutely devoted to you. Sirius was everything people said he wasn’t.

Your friends had warned you, reminding you of his reputation, but Sirius had proved them wrong time and time again.

People talked, women especially. They were mostly mad that you had taken and locked away their favorite shag. None of them had true feelings for Sirius as you did. You knew this, so the sly remarks behind your back, to you, and to Sirius didn’t exactly bother you.

You had trust in your relationship, in Sirius, so why are you now sitting by the Black Lake, leaning your head against a tree, with tears welling in your eyes?

It's because, for the first time, one of the horrible comments has finally gotten to you. Emma Mire, one of Sirius’s old shags, had made up a horrible lie—or at least you hoped it was a lie—about Sirius and her getting together on Saturday night.

It all connected, all made sense. He had been acting weird that day, whispering in his friends' ears, being absolutely tense, rushing you off to bed without even a hug or a kiss. You had brushed it off, but his usual affectionate personality somehow disappeared. He felt cold.

That same night, you sat in your bed while Lily comforted you, promising that everything was okay and that Sirius still had love for you. But how could she know? She didn’t, and that’s why you disregarded each affirming message she whispered in your ear as you sobbed your heart out into your duvet.

You hadn’t seen him today, mostly due to the fact that you skipped breakfast. The hurt in your heart overwhelmed every other need you had. The first time you stepped out of your dorm was to go here, attempting to get some fresh air to free your mind.

The pain deep in your chest had crippled you. 

The Black Lake seemed like the only place where you could find a semblance of peace. The gentle lapping of the water and the cool breeze offered a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

With a cursory glance around the vicinity, you realized no one was there, so you did as anyone would—you let your emotions flow. Slow, warm tears dripped down your face as your lip quivered fiercely.

You threw your head back gently onto the tree, feeling the bark tug at various strands of your hair. 

The tears you‘ve shed gave you a small flicker of warmth that was stark against the crisp autumn air. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some comfort in the solitude.

Eventually, you had found an ounce of comfort, but that was quickly interrupted as a set of footsteps behind you made their way closer. You tensed, instinctively brushing away the remnants of your tears and turning slightly to see who had stumbled on your sorrowful form. 

You gasped as a large black dog came happily trotting toward you. You turned back to your previous position, hiding yourself against the tree, hoping the dog would somehow forget about you and turn itself around.

You weren't scared of dogs, but a fluffy black dog in Hogwarts without a collar was definitely abnormal.

The thought that he might have been lost from Hogsmeade eased your anxiety quite a bit and gave you the confidence to turn around.

And you would have—except the dog had beaten you to it.

He came marching in front of you, wagging his tail.

“Uhm…” You were still very careful, in case this was somehow a dark mongrel stalking prey—although his excited tail wag definitely killed any thought inside you that he could be, “Hello, hi, buddy.”

The dog responded with a joyful bark, his eyes shining with friendliness. He sat down in front of you, tail thumping against the ground, and looked at you expectantly.

Tentatively, you reached out a hand. The dog sniffed it before nuzzling into your palm, clearly seeking affection. You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Are you lost, puppy?" you said softly, scratching behind his ears.

He shook his head, and your eyes widened slightly. Had a dog truly just responded to your question? Surely the whole Sirius situation had your brain utterly scrambled.

Oh god, the Sirius situation. The dog had somewhat distracted you completely, and now that your attention was brought back to it, tears welled up in your eyes once more.

A single tear dropped, and you moved your hand to quickly wipe it away. The dog whined at this, clearly missing the touch of your hand which had been petting down his back.

“Sorry,” you laughed sorrowfully, not bothering to conceal your tears anymore as they streamed down your face. It was only a dog; what would he do? Tell the whole school? Surely not.

You pet the dog once more, but he continued to whine, his eyes boring into your own. His paw came down and scraped against your knee.

“What’s wrong, boy? I’m petting you, aren’t I?” you said, looking confused at the dog. “Do you want food?—I guess I don’t really have any with me right now…”

The dog continued to whine but jumped closer to you, licking a stripe of wet saliva up your cheek.

“Oi, gross!” you exclaimed, wiping the tear-infused saliva with the sleeve of your robe. “That is getting washed later,” you noted with a wry smile.

The dog whined again, and you added, “I’m sorry, mate, no harsh feelings, but we are merely acquaintances. You can’t just lick my face, boy.” You laughed at your own joke, realizing that the dog probably couldn’t understand you. The dog couldn’t understand you. Surely, this dog wouldn’t mind if you aired out your dirty laundry.

“Mind if I vent to you, bud?” you asked, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. The whining stopped, and his tail wagged instead. “I’ll take that as a yes, if you don’t mind.”

you took a deep breath and began to speak, your voice trembling slightly. “I suppose I’ve been having a rough time recently—boy problems.” You laughed weakly, but the dog just stared at you, his eyes almost narrowing.

“My boyfriend has been acting—uhm—not himself…” You trailed off, searching for the right words. “And I heard this terrible rumor. God, they usually don’t get to me—but this one, it really did. Everything just seemed to add up.”

The dog’s tail wagged gently, as if encouraging you to continue. You felt a bit silly talking to a dog, but the comfort of having someone—or something— that isn’t Lily to listen helped you open up.

“I mean, Sirius was distant, and then this rumor about him being with someone else… It made me question everything. I started doubting him, doubting us.” 

The dog sat closer to you, resting his head on top of your knees. You looked down at him, your voice trembling as you spoke, “I love him, buddy. I really, really do. It scares me that we’ve only been together four months and I love him this much. I only pray that the rumor isn’t true.”

Tears began to stream down your face, faster than before. “I just… I had trust in him—in us. I thought I was enough for him.”

The dog let out a loud whine, the sound echoing through the quiet. He lifted his head from your knees and tried to lick your face again. You laughed through your tears and gently pushed him away, but he didn’t give up. Instead, he pressed his cold nose against your flushed cheek.

You smiled gently, and as you reached out to pet him, he suddenly stood up and ran off. You watched, puzzled, as he disappeared into the distance. It seemed like he wasn’t coming back, and you couldn’t help but feel that maybe your emotional outpouring had scared him off.

Sighing deeply, you wiped your tears, feeling a mix of disappointment and lingering sadness. You were left alone again by the Black Lake, the dog’s sudden departure leaving you with only the echoes of your own thoughts.

After what felt like an hour, but was more realistically ten minutes, the black dog came trotting back up to you. His tail wagged enthusiastically as he approached, looking as if he was excited to see you again.

Oh, hello again,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the dog returning. He trotted back towards you, carrying something in his mouth. From your position against the tree, it looked like a poorly folded piece of parchment and a bundle of daisies and other wildflowers.

The dog dropped the items gently at your feet, looking up at you with an expression that seemed almost proud. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sight.

“What is all this, puppy?” You asked curiously, picking up the piece of parchment, assuming he got it from the outskirts of Hogwarts.

As you unfolded the paper, you carefully examined the writing.

It read: 

“To my love,” 

“You have my heart, you have my body, and by God you practically have my soul.

Please, lovely girl, meet me at the astronomy tower.

Forever yours,

S.B.”

“P.S. This note is for you. Please stop thinking that the dog brought you a clump of paper that isn’t for you.” 

You looked towards the dog, who was still wagging his tail just as enthusiastically as when he first arrived. “Oh Merlin,” you said, a smile breaking through as the tears dried up upon reading the letter.

“This is for me?” you asked, not really expecting an answer, but based on the dog’s previous actions, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he nodded.

To your amazement, he nodded, and you laughed softly, a mix of confusion and amusement.

Standing up, you shook the dirt off your skirt and robes with a flick of your hand. “I must look like an utter mess, huh?” you said, glancing down at yourself.

The dog merely looked at you, his tail wagging steadily. His eyes seemed to hold an expectation, but you weren’t quite sure what he wanted.

“I guess… It’s time to see if the little note you brought me was really meant for me?” you mused aloud, and the dog barked in response, standing up on all fours.

He then turned his attention to the flowers you had left on the ground, nudging them gently with his nose. It was as if he was urging you to take them with you.

You picked up the wildflowers, smiling at the thoughtful gesture. “Oh, right. Thank you for reminding me.”  

And with that, the black dog ran off, straight in the direction of the castle. What an odd creature. 

As you trudged up the small hill and made your way back towards the castle, a resolute thought crossed your mind: you were absolutely going to kill Lily for letting this slip to Sirius. 

[sundrop-writes]

oo! I was just unsure of how you could do it for some of the characters but I trust you to come up with good scenarios, you’re always very creative with them.

So, could I ask for how you think teen wolf characters Stiles, Isaac, Lydia, & Derek would react to finding out reader is pregnant? (could be with their baby, or however else you think up bc ofc Lydia can’t get anyone pregnant 😂)

And no you are not alone. I really like pregnancy and baby fics, which is why I was wondering, but I was still a bit worried you weren’t up for it for this particular fandom! It’s very fun to read about having an imaginary family with my fav characters and the variety of diff scenarios that could lead to it.

'I'm sure you could come up with something good' - and the first time I read this message, I came up with something delightfully insane for Lydia. so strap in omg

I am also glad that I'm not the only one who likes pregnancy and kid fics!!! I think they are so much fun because it has elements of drama and fluff and caring. It's such a nice soup of emotions. I really hope you like what I have done here.

Teen Wolf requests are OPEN. Please read my Rules before requesting!

How would the pack react to finding out that you're pregnant with their baby?

Included: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale.

Warnings: usually I do GN readers for reactions but this one called for fem!reader - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and has the ability to get pregnant); in Lydia's section, the reader is a werewolf; mentions of the reader having typical pregnancy symptoms; sexual themes (baby making - duh), some sentences that could be considered smutty?; I think Isaac's part is the longest because we know I have a fucking soft spot for him; mentions of unprotected sex (again - duh); mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father (not detailed); umm idk what else - generally mature themes? But no major warnings other than that.

Stiles would freeze up. He would be so unsure how to react to the information that for a while, he wouldn't react at all.

When the words came out of your mouth, he thought he had misheard you.

"Stiles, I - I'm pregnant."

"What?" He gaped in response.

"I'm pregnant." You affirmed gently.

He sat there, frozen with shock, and didn't say anything for a long time.

He was overwhelmed with too many thoughts and emotions. He wanted to be happy, but he felt like he wasn't ready for this. But he also wasn't ready for half the things that had happened to him in life so far - being kidnapped (more than once), having friends die or nearly die around him, being possessed by a thousand year old demon and fighting to be freed.

This was good, right?

It was you. He wanted you, he wanted everything that came with a life with you.

But it was so soon.

His dad was going to kill him.

"Stiles, say something, please-" You begged quietly, and when your eyes began to brim with tears, that broke him free from his horrible shock.

He couldn't stand to see you hurt. He jumped off the bed and swept you into a hug, holding you tight. Instinctively, you squeezed him back, seeking the comfort that always came from his touch.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." He said, whispering into your neck. "I'm sorry, I know this is bad-"

"You think it's bad?" You posed in return, misconstruing his words. "So - so you don't want to keep it?"

His heart shook in his chest.

Of all the things he had been thinking, that was not one of them.

"No." He said sharply, pulling away from the hug to get a good look at your tearful face. Your features were still twisted with pain, and he absolutely hated it. "I just - I just meant that you're upset, and that's bad."

"Well - what about the pregnancy part?" You asked urgently. "What do you think about that part?"

"It's scary as hell." He answered honestly. Your lip quivered, and he rushed to say more. "But for once in my life, I think it's the good kind of scary, like - like roller coasters or scary movies where you know nobody actually gets hurt, or - or spicy hot wings." He rambled on. "I'm terrified, but I think this is gonna be amazing. There's nobody else that I'd rather have a baby with than you."

Saying the word 'baby' out loud made it all terribly real.

You gave him a wet, tearful smile, and then pulled him into a kiss.

Isaac would be upset and insecure.

After you told him, Isaac ran - he ditched out of your bedroom window, leaving you alone and tearful, and after you spent days in bed sobbing (your sadness likely multiplied by the pregnancy hormones), you would be determined to track him down. Even if he didn't agree to be a father, even if he didn't own up to it, at the very least, you needed to finish the conversation you had started. You needed closure - the end of the relationship, if that's what he wanted.

After days of him dodging you, you finally managed to catch him at Derek's loft. It was clear that he wanted to run again, but Derek's words about owning up to his responsibilities were ringing in his ears, and he decided that at the very least, he owed you an explanation. He would give you the conversation you so desperately wanted.

"What the fuck, Isaac?" You barked at him, tears edging in your eyes again at seeing him for the first time in a week. "What the hell is wrong with you? I-"

"You really want me to run down that fucking laundry list now?" He snapped, more bitter and rage fuelled than you had ever seen him. His voice caused chills down your spine. "Because I'm surprised it's taken you this long to notice one thing, let alone half of it!"

This was not the man who you had fallen in love with. This wasn't your sweet, loving Isaac. This wasn't the man who had taken you to bed, kissed over every inch of your body, made you so ripe with passion that something like a condom felt insignificant compared to the cosmos you saw in his eyes as he pushed his cock inside of you.

"Isaac, what are you talking about?" You asked, your voice small, barely edging above a whisper as you stared him down carefully, searching through his eyes - wondering if everything before this had just been an act to get you into bed.

All you saw boiling up inside of him was hurt, and it made you ache too.

"I don't expect you to know." He sighed fitfully, shaking his head.

You put a hand over your stomach, a protective instinct, and his gaze focused there. Regret splashed up inside of him, and he couldn't contain his next words.

"When you told me you were pregnant, did you expect the fucking sun to shine down and angels to sing and some fucking - Hallmark bullshit?" He questioned, clearly jaded.

You hadn't expected that, but you hadn't expected him to run away. Part of you expected him to be happy.

"I can't be happy about this." He told you, almost as if reading your mind. "I have shitty, horrible DNA. I'm a monster, Y/N." You gave him a puzzled look, and he continued. "I'm not talking about the werewolf thing - my father was a horrible person. You know that. I can't be around a kid. I can't have a baby. I can't risk it."

He said the last part softly, that terrible regret lacing his voice, and suddenly, in that moment, it all became crystal clear to you. He thought his father's abusive ways would be hereditary.

Your chest clenched with a horrible pain, and you wandered across the room toward him, and instinctively, he backed away from you.

"Don't." He said, continuing to eye your stomach sharply. You realized now that he thought he was protecting your baby by staying away from it, staying away from you.

You inched toward him again, this time managing to snag his hand, which you brought to place flat on your stomach. You were early in your pregnancy, not showing (your stomach not any different than it normally would be) - but something wolfish inside of him flared with protectiveness, something could sense that different thing about you. It was subtle, but he could feel and hear another heartbeat under his palm. He wanted to run again, but feeling this, being so close - it caused him to relax against you, instinctively wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Isaac, you're nothing like your father." You told him quietly. "You're not going to hurt our baby-"

"But what if I do?" He argued, his voice cracking with fear.

"You won't." You assured him. "We both know that you won't."

Lydia would be shocked - in denial. Because - what the fuck is happening? This shouldn't be scientifically possible, right? Right?

At first, she was convinced that you cheated on her. She freaked out about that. She screamed at you, threw things. You cried because you hated that she was accusing you of such a horrible crime, even if you understood why (to an extent). She shouldn't be able to get you pregnant, so it was perfectly sane to think that you had cheated on her with a guy during the course of your relationship - even though you hadn't. This was crazy. This shouldn't be possible.

When you had first started feeling the symptoms - the nausea, the irritability, the generally off feeling, something that kept nagging at you and had all of your senses on edge, you hadn't even thought to take a pregnancy test. Even when you missed your period, you assumed that it was stress, not eating right... a laundry list of other things before you would have assumed this.

But then - Derek pulled you aside and asked why you smelled like that. He said the only other time he had smelled it was when he was much younger - before the fire, when one of his aunts was pregnant. You told him that it wasn't possible, and he told you that his nose never lied.

So - driven crazy by the thought, and believing it to be impossible, you peed on the stupid little stick. And then another, and then another, entirely in disbelief. And when you dumped a bunch of pee covered sticks onto Scott's Mom's kitchen counter, much to her horror, asking her if there was any way they could be wrong. She told you it was unlikely, but took you to the hospital to get you a blood test, and when it came back positive, she asked you who the father was.

She gave you that same fish-gaped mouth when you told her.

"Lydia." You sighed. "Lydia is the father. She's the only person I've ever had sex with."

And this left you and Lydia in Derek's kitchen with him and Stiles, with your positive blood test sitting in the middle of the counter, Stiles pouring over every book he could find on the subject - all of you irritably confused.

"How?" Lydia gaped, still in shock. "How?"

"I don't know." Derek shrugged. "You tell me."

"And - and you didn't cheat on me?" Lydia asked you, still believing this to be the most logical answer.

"Yes." Derek answered, cutting you off. "She's not lying. That much I can tell you."

You were glad that he backed you up on this, but it still left everyone confused and searching for answers.

"Look, okay, Lydia - you survived the Alpha bite, you have some weird immunity." Stiles said, pausing between his frantic page flipping. "Maybe... this is what happens when you have sex with a werewolf?"

Lydia scoffed and you hid your face in your hands with embarrassment. You wondered if it had something to do with the full moon. The last time - you had been so full of energy, pulsing with power as the moon came to its fullness overhead, and you had pinned her down, spent hours rubbing your cunt raw against hers. But you never thought that anything the two of you did could result in a pregnancy.

"Maybe it would help if you tell me exactly what you two did?" Stiles suggested - he was thinking of it from a theoretical, scientific standpoint, not realizing how perverted this sounded until after it left his lips.

"Really?!" Lydia glared at him.

You picked up a nearby vase and threw it at him without hesitation, and he dodged it, causing it to smash against the wall behind his head, disintegrating into dust.

"Okay, bad idea!"

"Just shut up and keep reading."

Derek would be intensely protective. From the second the words came out of your mouth, the entire axis of his world shifted. Everything became about you and protecting you and your unborn baby.

"Derek, I think I'm pregnant."

Everything suddenly made sense. The change in your scent, the odd way you had been acting, the fact that you had been sick recently.

He couldn't contain the deep, feral growl he let out - the way his eyes lit up as the news fully overtook him. The flash of red made you mistake him as angry, and your entire body sagged.

"Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't just my fault-" You hissed sharply at him, and he cut you off by sealing his lips over your own, smothering you in an intense, hot, confusing kiss.

Of course he knew that it wasn't 'just your fault'. The two of you had sex plenty of times, but if he wasn't mistaken, he remembered the night vividly well-

You thought it would be funny to tease him by tempting him with a chase through the woods, and it ended with you stomach down in a clearing, your cheek pressed against the dirt while he fucked into you roughly from behind, growling warnings in your ear, telling you not to tease him again. (Which only made you want to do it again, and again.)

"Don't be sorry, moonflower." He mumbled against your lips, using his nickname for you. "Don't ever be sorry about this."

The passion that overtook his voice sent chills down your spine. You were speechless.

"Derek?" You questioned, a quiet chirp that almost died off in your throat.

"From now on, you don't leave my sight, do you understand me?" He said, gently running his knuckles across your face, as sweet and soothing as you had ever seen him.

Before, he had been subtle in his protection of you. Reaching over to snap on your seatbelt before you could do it yourself, always putting an arm around you, especially in the face of danger, making sure that he walked in front of you if thought there might be a threat around. He had never been this outright passionate about his protection of you before.

But he would never risk the life of his unborn child - he would never let anybody come between him and the woman who was going to mother that child. It was a sacred bond now.

"Yes, of course." You couldn't help but to agree.

Then, Derek surprised you when he knelt down in front of you, placing his forehead on your stomach and gently closing his eyes as if partaking in the solitude of prayer. Which, he was - uttering silent promises to your unborn child, worshipping at the altar of the powerful, beautiful woman who was going to bring that baby into this world.

It left you speechless once again, and all you could do was run your fingers through his hair, further adding to his peace.