#either way it's all good i'm not looking for reassurance just if anything is burning the back of ur mind it'll help me

[boxwinebaddie]

odd thing to bring up after i talked about how i'm finally trying to write for myself and not other people, but because i start and don't finish so many projects...i'm honestly not even sure where to go? i'm feeling a bit stumped atm, so if anyone has something in particular that they're interested in seeing from me, please lmk.

obviously i'm trying to only travel down paths that i want to, but as i look at my pinterest boards and all the projects i've started, all the styles and respective universes i'm cobbling together, i'm finding i am very interested in exploring all of them, so my stomach hurts, my head feels funny and my heart is a little confused. i'm feeling lost and as you are all my sunshines my only sunshines, the very same way i appreciate the warmth you provide me, i'd also love a guiding light.

thank you for all your support.

it is extremely precious to me.

-uncle nina

[allllium]

Could I request a one shot with Simon Riley, where he is in a secret relationship. And one night when he was on a mission, at their shared home, one of their enemies (that they are hunting down in that mission) comes and kidnaps them. When they find the base where the enemy was, Riley went in to see his girlfriend being tortured? She gets rescued by him and seeks medical attention, as she passes out? But when she wakes up in the hospital it turns into a really fluffy moment? Maybe he gets on one knee?????

Not so Secret

~ I really hope I did your idea justice 🤞 I'm the best at writing for Simon yet or angsty hurty stuff so hopefully you enjoy this sweet little moment

~ Fluff, Torture (Mentioned), WC: 1,559

~ Simon can't live without you

Simon can feel his heart beating out of his chest. You're gonna be fine, he keeps reminding himself. No one on the team has anything in the last couple hours. Good thing. Simon might lose his mind if they try to make small talk in this situation. You're gonna be fine, he reminds himself again, leaning his head against the wall.

You were taken by the enemy team on what was supposed to be a perfectly safe mission. Get the information and get out. Simple. It only took an hour before they found you but in that time you were badly injured. You're alive he mutters under his breath. He can feel Price's eyes burning a hole into him but he still doesn't say anything.

Simon practically jumps out of his chair when the doctor comes through the door. Ignoring every word that comes out the doctors mouth, he pushes his way past and into your room. Price can deal with all the details, right now Simon just needs to see you. Just confirm that you're alive.

You're sleeping when he walks in. More like knocked out with drugs but either way you look peaceful. As peaceful as you can with bruises covering your face. He carefully takes a seat next to the bed. He lets out a deep breath as he sits there watching you. Thinking over everything that happened that day and everything he could have done to stop it, which was nothing.

He sits there long enough to doze off, something he rarely ever does when not in the comfort of his own home. You're presence just has the ability to make him feel comfortable anywhere.

"You're lucky it hurts to move or I'd have drawn a mustache on your face." You voice draws him awake.

"No one would see it through the mask." He responds, keeping his eyes closed. It's a weird feeling, having someone you love in the hospital. He doesn't want to open his eyes, he doesn't want to believe you got hurt.

"I'd know it's there and that's enough for me. Look at me Simon." You demand. He listens, opening his eyes to the brightness of the hospital room. The white walls, white lights, and white ceiling don't strike him as the best thing for healing patients.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, looking into your eyes.

"I'm alright, and you?" You sit up in the uncomfortable bed as an attempt to get more comfortable.

"I'm not the one in a hospital bed." He whispers. Eyes darting all over the room.

"True. It's not the funnest." You crack a small smile. You know exactly how he thinks, how much he blames himself. You know it's a result of trauma and you want nothing more than to be able to reassure him in times like this Unfortunately, words aren't enough to undo this way of thinking. "Join me?" You pat the empty space on the bed.

"No." He replies instantly, immediately worried about injuring you further.

"Okay I might have phrased that like a question but it wasn't. Get on this bed and sit with me so I can feel better."

He stays silent. Debating the options he has. Or more so the options he doesn't have.

"You have two seconds or I'm coming to you."

That gets him moving. At this point he knows better than to dismiss your threats. Before moving however, he takes a moment to take off his mask, something he never wears when it's just the two of you.

"Fine, you know you're not supposed to leave that bed yet." He tries to keep a demanding tone but to you it's just laced with concern. You have a wide grin on your face as he scooches in the bed with you. You end half way on top of him with how small the bed is.

"So what happened while I was sleeping?" You ask, absentmindedly tracing the tattoo on his arm.

"I have no idea. I've been here." He keeps his sentences short and simply. A habit he's picked up over the years.

"The whole time? Aw you big softy." Your heart flutters at his confession.

"M' not."

"Mhm. Whatever you say." You chuckle softly.

"Do you need anything? Water? Food? Drugs?" He kisses your forehead.

"I'm alright. Now stop it."

"Stop what? I'm trying to be helpful."

"No you're blaming yourself. I know you." You lean up in order to look into his eyes. He may be secretive but his eyes aren't.

"I'm not. I'm just thinking of all the ways I can protect you in the future."

"Okay let's say that I believe you. How would you stop this from happening again? You weren't even there." At this point you're sitting up as much as you can, putting an arm on Simon's chest to keep you upright.

"Well right now I'm thinking of locking you in my house so you can never leave and therefore never be hurt." He tells you, being completely serious.

"I'm gonna ignore that because you would like a stalker." You laugh. "Where's the rest of the guys?"

"Outside. I locked the door when I came in."

"Simon! Go unlock the door." You want to say you're surprised but not even a little bit of it is out of the ordinary for Simon.

"No. I'm comfortable here. And I don't wanna go back to acting all professional."

"Simon, you've been in here for what I'm guessing is hours considering it's now nighttime with the door locked. I don't think our secret is much of a secret."

"Maybe not. But I want you all to myself." The look on his face reminds you of a sad puppy. Which is a face he makes very often.

"And you say you're not a softy." You scoff.

"I'm not!" He exclaims, trying hard to protect his reputation that you don't believe for a second.

"Whatever you say, sweetie." You smirk as his face lights up a shade of red. Here we have a massive, cold, military man, blushing at one simply pet name, it's enough to give anyone a huge ego.

After you're little period of talking, you fall into a comfortable silence. With you laying back down onto his chest.

"How are you feeling?" He asks after just a few minutes.

"I'm okay." You quickly reaffirm him. "How about you."

"I'm fine."

"Nope tell me the truth. You've asked me that many times now."

"Just checking."

"Simon."

"I love you." He says out of nowhere.

"I love you too."

"Can we get married."

"What?!" You shoot up, wincing in the process.

"I wanna get married."

"Now??" You practically yell. Of course you wanna marry him but you're really confused.

"No I mean later. I just wanna know that we will."

"You mean be engaged?" You can't stop the strange expression that your face makes as you try and decifer what he means.

"Is that not what you want?" He asks, the fear evident in his voice.

"That's not what I said. But we've never talked about marriage I mean not as deep as we should have. I don't want you to want to marry me just because I got hurt." You start to ramble, talking so fastcyou don't even know if he can understand you. He can. He's gotten used to your nervous rambles.

He smiles bigger than you think you've ever seen him. "I've wanted to marry you since the moment we first met."

"Okay you sound more and more like a stalker the more you talk."

"Is that a no?"

"No, it's a we can be engaged as long as you're being serious. And we'll stay engaged for a while because we're not ready to be married anytime soon."

"So next months not gonna work for you?" He laughs, genuinely laughs.

"No I think I'm busy then." You retort. You want to marry him, you know that for sure, but not until you're healed, and not until you both get better at being together.

"I can wait."

"Can you go let the guys in? Cuz the way you're staring at me is making me nervous."

"I love you."

"Door, Simon."

You try to surpress the wild grin on your face as he gets up to open the door for the others. They all walk in with matching suspicious smirks.

"What have I said about eavesdropping?" You immediately question, looking right at Soap.

"Not to do it." He looks down at his feet like a child being scolded.

"That's right, yet here you are."

"It's not my fault!" He immediately defends himself and points to Price. "He's the one that walked by the door and talk me you were talking about marriage."

You turn your sharp gaze over to Price, "and here I thought you were the responsible one." You shake your head in disappointment. You can hear Simon and Gaz laughing behind them. Being more than amused at the scolding you give you captain.

"You're right. I will reflect on my actions and do better in the future." He jokes.

Also shaking his head, Simon makes his way back to your bedside. Sitting beside you and putting an arm around your waist. You have a feeling now that your secrets out he won't keep his hands off you. But you're okay with that.

[yxngbxkkie]

a tmi (b.c)

hello, hello! i hope you all are doing okay 🩷 i thought of this idea a little bit ago, and it's pretty short. i don't think it's that good either, but i still wanted to share it!! basically, you come home to chan walking around naked 🫢

~

You smile to yourself as you stare out the window. It feels so surreal that you're living with Chan now. The two of you have been dating for a little over three years when he asked if you wanted to get a place together.

The taxi you're in pulls up to your apartment building, stopping completely before parking the vehicle. “Do you need help, Miss?” He asks you, glancing into the backseat.

“I'm okay, thank you!” You tell him, grabbing the bags of groceries. You exit the vehicle, leaning down again. “Thank you again! Have a wonderful night.”

He waves to you before taking off. You adjust the bags in your hands, walking up the steps of your building. It takes almost five minutes to get to your apartment door.

You set your bags down so you can retrieve your house key. You grab all the bags with one hand while opening the door. You gently shut the door behind you and bring the groceries into the kitchen.

“Chan? Baby, I'm home,” you call out into the quiet apartment. You begin putting stuff away, humming to yourself.

By the time you're done, Chan still hasn't come to greet you. You call his name once more, walking towards your shared bedroom. You halt your footsteps upon hearing the bathroom door open.

Chan walks out completely naked, causing your eyes to widen. You gasp pretty loudly, startling the man in front of you. You cover your eyes with your hands, feeling the tips of your ears burn.

“Y/N! You scared me, baby,” Chan laughs, his hand pressed against his heart.

You blush, standing still in the middle of the hallway. “You're… you're naked,” you stutter over your words, keeping your eyes covered.

Your boyfriend chuckles, and you can hear him come closer. His hands gently wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands away. “Baby, we've been dating for three years. You've seen me naked before,” he tells you with a raised brow, amusement in his eyes.

“Yeah, but–” You pause, finding your gaze trailing down his torso.

Chan moves one of his hands to your face, lifting your chin before you're able to see his mmh. You swallow thickly, looking into his dark eyes. He smirks at you, tapping your chin with his thumb.

“Do you want me to put clothes on, baby?” He asks, tilting his head a bit. He leans forward, placing feathery kisses on your cheek. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I'm not… I'm not opposed to you walking around completely nude,” you mention while resting your hands on his pecs. “I'm just confused as to why you're naked.”

Chan laughs, removing his hand from your face to rub the back of his neck. “If I'm completely comfortable, I like to not wear anything,” he confesses with flushed cheeks.

“Did you do this at your old apartment? With the boys?” You ask him, surprised by his confession. You never would've guessed this from him. Especially with the way he'll get shy with compliments.

He nods his head and starts to walk into your bedroom. You bite your lip as your eyes glance down to his ass, internally groaning.

“Baby, I'm okay with you not wearing clothes,” you reassure him, watching your boyfriend slowly put on sweatpants.

“Are you sure?” Chan asks, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

You nod your head, tucking some hair behind your ear while standing between his spread legs. “Of course. I'm grateful that you're that comfortable around me,” you giggle, resting your forearms on his shoulders. “I just never expected that from you.”

Chan laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I'm full of surprises, baby,” he smirks and tugs your body closer to his.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[lushrue]

I don't know if this is good but maybe, you can write something about maybe ice skater! reader being unfairly graded (i don't know how the point system works) or maybe ice hockey! 141 getting in a fight during a game and it gets kinda serious? Just a suggestion ofcourse, no pressure!❤ (Sorry if i'm akward, this is my first time sendinag and ask.)

thanks for the request, anon! your ask is great, no sweat! i’m gonna expand more on the second part of your request cause i’ll be honest, i’m not sure how scoring works for figure skating either lol!

but if reader gets a score that’s anything less than what they were expecting, no one’s gonna be happy. johnny’s raising a stink and probably cursing at the judges under his breath with words only he can understand. price is trying to rationalize it, cause he was sure you deserved higher than that. ghost seethes quietly, but he lets it go because these things happen sometimes. and kyle is just there for you, there to provide comfort or reassurance, whatever you need.

OKAY SO if the 141 got into a serious fight on the ice, for sure someone’s walking away bloody. whether it’s them or the other guy, it’s gotta be bad if all four of them are dog-piling on the opposing team. it probably starts with some cocksure rookie mouthing off, chirping about someone’s mother or sister or worse, you. they just can’t let that stand, someone insulting your honor like that! they’re gentlemen above all!

it’s probably ghost who throws the first punch. he’s the defenseman after all, his position is naturally a bit more physical than the rest of them. he doesn’t need words to fight back, he’s got fists that work just fine. that’s where johnny comes in, our favorite resident hothead. he’s swearing up a storm, hurling insults just to keep tensions high. he’s not done with a fight until someone’s on the ground. and he hasn’t gotten the chance to knock someone out yet this season.

price initially comes in as the peacemaker, trying to call off his attack dogs. “always on a hair trigger, those two,” he’d mumble under his breath. but the minute he hears what they’re saying or gets a punch thrown his way, he’s right there in the fray with everyone else. he tells himself it’s in defense of his boys, but he can’t deny the fire that burns hot in his belly when someone insults you. kyle is the last to join, but that doesn’t mean he’s not as passionate as the rest of them. he’s been chirping across the ice the whole time, choosing to fight at arm’s length rather than engage in contact. after all, someone has to remain penalty-free in this whole mess. he’s easily provoked to lashing out, though. call his pretty thing a rude name one more time, he dares you.

you’re torn as you watch in the stands, the refs skating in and trying to break everyone up. you can see that someone’s injured; there’s drops of blood on the ice, so play isn’t resuming for at least another 10 minutes. you know this needs to stop, that they need to cool off. but something stirs in you, watching your men fight fisticuffs on the ice. you think you catch johnny look back to make sure you’re watching before throwing a particularly bruising right hook. but of course, it ends eventually. you’re there in the locker room while the rink staff scrapes the ice to clean it, nursing johnny’s split lip while checking in with the rest. they’re all fine, thank goodness, just a couple bruised jaws and egos. "y'should see th'other guy," johnny mutters around the paper towel you're holding against his lip.

cheeky bastards, you think to yourself. always getting into trouble.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.5

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: You and Daryl grow closer due to feeling out of place in Alexandria. Just when you think you have the old Daryl back, he leaves.

Notes: I think the chapter after this one will be the last chapter, and finally have some cheesy old fashion love making :D Sorry Daryl vanishes at the end tho ):

It never seemed to end for him. In front of everyone else he was silent, emotionless, an empty body on autopilot. But when you'd walk off into the trees to search for water, it always hit him, no matter how many times he'd thought he'd cried out all out and was done with it. 

He clung to you after her death like never before, constantly walking in your shadow and wordlessly begging for some sort of comfort, reassurance, anything. You did the best you could, which ended up being more than either of you expected. You seamlessly morphed into the familiar elder sister role, mirroring the ways you would comfort your bruised baby brother. 

He put a cigarette out on his hand the one time he went off by himself, and not following him was something you came to regret. 

“Daryl,” the whisper of your voice had him cringing, the sound too empathetic and full of concern, he had to fight to keep himself from cracking when your comfort washed over him. 

“I know… I'm not good with words, or shit like this.” You sighed, maintaining a quiet tone, low enough for the sound of rain and the crackle of fire to cover. 

Daryl remained silent as you spoke. He picked at the skin around his fingers, looking down at his hands in his lap, and the sight of your smaller hand lightly touching his wrist makes him jerk. 

“I can't take away your pain, God knows I'd kill every goddamn piece of shit alive to make you feel better.” Your voice turned shaky, and the urge to cry was becoming overwhelming for the both of you. “But... I can promise you, you'll never have to worry about losing me. I just want you to know, I'm that one thing you don't need to worry about. I always will be.” 

Daryl slowly inhaled through his stuffy nose and nodded, the noise dry and shaky, his eyes burning and unblinking from their gaze on your hand. 

“I know.” He finally spoke and nodded again, as if that would magically set it in stone. “Me too.”

Slipping back into your place in the group dynamic was unpleasant after being alone with Gabriel for that long. It wasn't just one person you had to make an effort for anymore, and deep down you despised it. It was almost comparable to going back to school after summer break. You had to play by the rules again, fit into their perfect perception or risk repercussions. 

The discovery of Eugenes lies was all but a surprise to you. You didn't have some wild sense of intuition, you were just a pessimistic person. Although you kept your opinions to yourself, you didn't predict the extent of how deep his lies had been. The cure was a given, obviously, but the fact he lied about being a scientist as well? Lied about the safe place in Washington too? It took everything you had in you not to cave his face in when you saw the look of disappointment on Daryl's face. That's another reason why you hated being in a group. People didn't deserve to be able to let you down, and sure as hell not the one person you gave a shit about. 

People love to parrot that same ‘it has to get worse before it can get better’ bullshit you'd been told by concerned and empathetic authority figures all throughout your childhood. Safe to say it had lost its meaning to you, even when Daryl tried to lift your spirits. 

Well, it sure got better for everyone else. 

You weren't alone in your suspicions about Aaron. For once Rick and you agreed on something, it was a bad idea to go to Alexandria. But the group convinced him to take a chance, that the rewards greatly outweigh the risks, and you watched with a disapproving glare as Aaron led you all past the gates. 

“I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions, get to know you. You don't mind if I record this, do you?” 

You had a feeling your answer wouldn't make any difference, no matter what you said. You shook your head as you watched Deanna turn her video camera on, the big black lens feeling like an intimidating pit waiting to swallow you up if you gave an answer she didn't like. She rounded the couch and sat down, a tight and professional smile on her lips. 

“Let's start with your name.”

You told her your name, trying to behave despite your stomach growling and the sudden awareness that you smelled and looked awful. 

“Where are you from,” She repeated your name. 

“Georgia. Up North.” 

“Did you work?”

“No.”

“What were you before the outbreak?” When you didn't answer, she elaborated. “Were you a student in school, staying at home, traveling…?”

“After high school I stayed home for a couple years. Took care of my mom.” 

“I understand you're close with Daryl, is that right?” 

You must've visibly reacted to that question, because even after you answered, she pressed for more information.

“Did you grow up together?”

“Kind of, we weren't really friends or anything. He lived nearby and I'd see him around.”

Deanna nodded as if she was your therapist listening to some deep-seated trauma. 

“Did you ask anyone else these questions?” You scratched the back of your arm, beginning to feel uncomfortable. 

“I ask everyone all kinds of questions. I want to get to know you all, it's not an interrogation. You don't need to answer any that you don't want to.”

She finally changed the subject to your relationship with Rick's group. Not that you were eager to talk about it, but at least she wasn't grilling you on Daryl anymore. 

“I've been here since before Rick came and took over. Back in Atlanta. Daryl and his brother Merle came to get me when it happened. I thought maybe they were having some bad trip or somethin'. Ran into my house yelling about dead folks coming back to life and eating people. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be dead too, but, I think they mainly came to get me because they knew my mom had a stash of cigarettes and drugs.” You were chuckling as you spoke, not realizing you had given up so much information without her even asking. You instantly shut up, the amused smile leaving your face. 

“How do you get along with other members of your group?”

You cringed at the phrasing. They weren't your group, they were Daryl's people, you were just a temporary guest without a set time to leave. 

“Fine. Haven't heard any complaints. Have you?”

“No. But I have heard you don't work well with others.” 

You shrugged. 

“Do you want to be here?” The way she would use your name at the end of every few sentences was starting to get under your skin. 

“I'm kinda stuck with wherever Daryl wants to be.” 

Deanna ended the interview after a handful of other unimportant questions and you were allowed to leave, led to your new house by one of her son's. 

You took the longest and hottest shower of your life, only getting out when Abraham started pounding on the door. It brought back that same feeling of anxiety you'd get when your mother would bang on your locked door in a fit of anger. You nearly ran him over when you burst out of the bathroom, making him drop his change of clothes and call out a disgruntled complaint. 

“Who the hell is this?” 

Daryl looked up from his bag to see you looking down at him, a teasing grin on your fresh face. The image of you being all cleaned up had him momentarily stunned. It had been a while since either of you had seen each other clean like that. 

“Daryl? No way, where's your grease?” You toyed with his damp hair before sitting next to him on the floor near the fireplace, where he'd decided to sleep for the night. 

“Nah, I don't know you. Ya don't smell like bloody rabbits.” He retorted, leaning in to dramatically sniff at you. “The hell is that? Shampoo?”

“Uh, it's shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and toothpaste.” You replied, giving an exaggerated smile to show your clean teeth. 

You shared a few chuckles and jokes as the rest of the group cleaned up and prepared for bed. Even though you couldn't stand the place or the new people in it, the prospect of having your own room with an actual bed had you buzzing with excitement. 

Sleeping next to Daryl wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. It was an arrangement that happened more nights than not. But sleeping next to Daryl in a safe house, wrapped in clean clothes, soft blankets, and not even the slightest whiff of the outdoors? It was overwhelming. 

You turned on your side to face him, watching as he stared up at the ceiling, the dark room filled with the familiar ambiance of gentle snoring and breathing. Daryl always slept after everyone else, and that night was no exception. 

Despite your instincts telling you not to, you wiggled on the blanket to move closer to him, nuzzling your face in his nearly dry hair, closing your eyes as you inhaled his clean scent. 

He stiffened at first, an automatic reaction which soon faded and he relaxed, tilting his head until his cheek rested against your forehead. He could barely feel the warm tickle of your breath under his jaw, the feeling soliciting a subliminal relaxation. His eyes closed then, and he listened to the barely audible whistle of your nose. He listened as the whistle got softer, slower, and nearly disappeared altogether as you fell asleep. 

Daryl made sure to untangle himself from you the next morning, before anyone else had the chance to wake up and witness your private bond. No one deserved to see that part of him or you, it was intended for the two of you alone, something deeper and more personal than anyone would understand. 

Adjusting to being around people was a challenge that went all the way back to school. Even in Atlanta you struggled with it, going from being a hermit with your sick mother to an adult in a large group of people, it felt like your first day of school all over again. 

That was all nothing compared to being in Alexandria. Not only were you surrounded by people that annoyed you, but another larger group of people you knew absolutely nothing about. 

They bestowed heavy responsibilities on you as well. It wasn't just scraping by washing clothes and hunting, it was work. Hard work. Wall building, gardening, work inside Alexandria, work outside their walls, near constant supply runs, and cooking. 

Parties. Pasta for dinner. A seemingly limitless flow of sparkling amber champagne. Some kid was walking their fucking pet dog on the sidewalk. 

It felt insulting. Their first impression on you firmly implemented your personal views towards them. Spoiled, weak, wearing faces of false persona, wives chittering like hens with warm knowing smirks. Husbands and men who always smiled like the sun, going out of their way to do things they considered nice for you, then putting on a somber and humble face if anyone had praised their hard work, dedication, and sacrifices. Sacrifices that basically ensued going to the grocery store. 

You hated it. You hated them, you hated their kids, you hated their houses that looked like mansions to you, and you hated the way Rick's group treated it like they'd walked through the bright pearly gates and not the glorified pretentious prison that it was. 

To your relief Daryl didn't quite like it either. 

“They invited us to what?” You didn't believe him when he said it to you as he stared around your new room. 

“Said it was a welcoming party.” He grunted, fingers picking at the edges of a tacky poster of a puppy on the wall. 

“A party? What do you mean a party?” 

“Dunno.” He sighed, throwing his hands up in muted exasperation. “S’jus what she said.” She being Deanna, the same woman who took away your guns, which yours had grown to be quite the impressive collection. But you being your hardened and sneaky self, you'd managed to smuggle two of your handguns into your room. Daryl got to keep his crossbow, of course, and you your own recurve bow, it was the bare minimum aside from your knives, which the others were allowed to keep as well. Sadly, you'd end up breaking that bow a few days later by slinging it at Pete's head.

“And everyone's going?” You pressed on from your seat on the bedroom dresser. 

“Dunno. Goddamn, told you what she told me, you know s’much as I do.” 

You went to the party. Of fucking course you would, they had full on meals with all the food groups, they had alcohol, they had little appetizers and finger foods you'd only ever seen on tv and in magazines, you'd be an idiot not to. The only con was the house was stuffed with people. You could barely make it two steps without bumping into a new face. 

You didn't stay long at all, leaving the second your stomach felt full, and you had a decent buzz going on. You snuck out the back door and snagged the half empty bottle of champagne on your way out. 

“Ya went?” Daryl was surprised to see you walking down the sidewalk in new clothes. The black button up hung a little loose on you, the sleeves bunched up around your elbows, the hem falling all the way past your ass. 

“I may not like those people, but they make some damn good casserole.” You snickered, popping out the metal reusable cork and taking a deep drink. 

Daryl grabbed the bottle from your outstretched hand and downed nearly the whole damn thing in three gulps. 

“Yeah yeah. Go on, help yourself.” 

He gave a weak grin at your playful scoff before handing the bottle back to you. 

“You remember what I said back in Atlanta.”

You looked to your side at Daryl as the two of you walked down the dimly lit path back to your new residence. “Gotta be more specific.” 

“Bout takin’ their shit an’ hauling ass outta there.” 

“Yeah. One of my biggest regrets is talking you out of it.” You sighed, your tone no longer playful and lighthearted. “We could be all the way across the country by now. Would still have Merle bitching out ears off and ranting about some racist conspiracy theory.” 

Daryl suddenly chuckled. “You ‘member that time he was tryin’ to come up with slurs for walkers?” His amused grin spread further when you erupted into laughter at the memory. “What was it he called ‘em? Rotters? Pus-suckers?”

“Yeah, those were some of the tamer ones.” At the time you'd been annoyed by Merle's constant need to remind you that the three of you were better and more superior than anything and anyone around you, but all this time without him and his humorous outlook on life, you missed it. You even missed when he'd belittle you, at the end of the day he still was sexist, despite the obvious care he held for you. 

“Why'd you ask though?” 

“Dunno.”

“Daryl.”

“Everyone's safe now, ain't gotta worry about ‘em anymore.” 

You kept quiet as he fought for the words to convey his thoughts. It was obvious he felt like the odd man out again, it was impossible not to, in a place as nice as Alexandria. The rest of the group had effortlessly slipped into their places in the new environment, if you were an onlooker, it would look as if time had frozen in place for the small neighborhood and its citizens. 

But Daryl, and you, it wasn't easy like that. You never had a normal life like this, so you had no default state to regress to. Daryl had only changed a little since the start, and you hadn't changed much at all. Your skin felt like it was burning with electricity at the insinuation in his words. 

“I'll go wherever you go, you know that.” You nodded firmly. “Just say the word.”

He ended up going to Carol with his vague plan, and then Rick. You don't know what they said to him, but the next morning he told you he wanted to give it a few days before he made his decision.

You should've just made the decision for him. You should have grabbed your stuff, packed your bags, and stole one of their cars and left. Because a few days turned into a hell of a lot longer. 

It wasn't all bad, the two of you grew even closer due to his feelings of being an outcast once again surfacing. It was the same for you, which caused you to cling onto him tighter than before. You slept on the same ratty mattress in your room, sometimes cuddling, but most of the time on separate ends.

You watched more people die around you, which was something you'd become bitterly accustomed to. Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons, and Noah, who you'd never spoken to before. Rick made some trouble for himself getting wrapped up in the wife of the town surgeon, and all hell broke loose after that. Pete lost his shit and accidentally killed Deanna's husband, and Rick killed Pete. As if there hadn't been enough blood shed, a hoard of walkers became an issue just as things started to calm down. 

You didn't like the role that'd been assigned to you. You were being seen and tasked as a protector, sent out by Rick with Abraham and a handful of others to build strategic walls for his master plan of relocating the hoard. 

Another thing you didn't like was the way people's views towards you changed. People who once never even spared you a second thought were speaking to you, making an effort to get to know you, and it was just as unsettling as that time Rick invited you over for dinner. 

“Too pretty to be so sad all the time.” Abraham had said once as you dug a hole for the wooden pillar. 

“I'm not sad.” You muttered, stepping back as three men lifted the wood into the hole. You poured in the instant concrete and took your gloves off to get a drink of water.

“So you just always have that sour look on your face then, huh?” 

“Only when I'm around people I don't know.” Or like, you thought to yourself. 

“I've known you for how long now? Course you know me. And Sasha, and Rosita, and-”

“You're people I'm stuck with. Doesn't mean I know you.” 

“Tsh.” He snorted, folding his massive arms across his equally massive chest. “So you're just a bitch then?” 

“Yeah.” 

One would think that conversation would've been enough to get the point across. No, sadly, it only made things worse. Rick ended up giving you jobs with more people, and you quickly caught onto the convenient way Daryl was almost never in those assigned groups. 

Rick was in charge, that was undebatable, but he wasn't in charge of your free will. You did your work as he asked, most of the time faster than expected, and spent every second of your free time with Daryl, even if it meant pulling four different jobs a day. 

It worked like that for a while, and eventually you did begin to change. Not you exactly, moreso your attitude had changed. You became less closed off, no longer baring teeth and claws as a constant warning. You actually enjoyed spending time with Abraham, as he was one of the only people that called you out for being shitty, he wasn't scared of your mean mug or the harsh bite of your words. It wasn't just Abraham you started to like. Maggie, Carol, Rosita, Michonne, and sometimes Tara, the small group shifted from strangers to acquaintances, some would call you their friend. They'd eventually worn down your hard exterior and you experimented a little with conversation and generosity. Carol was the exception, it was you who had to pursue her. Trying to become genuine friends with her was hard, it made you realize how hard everyone else had been trying with you. 

You even started decorating your room a bit. Nothing fancy, just a few homemade shelves and displays for your numerous weapons. You made a special one above your futon, the only object it held was the small gold tinted shell of a used bullet. 

All good things must come to an end. 

You sat alone in your shared room for the third night in a row, silent on your lumpy mattress, your eyes burning in effort to hold back tears. 

He hadn't even told you he was leaving. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[skzoologist]

The link

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

summary: Everyone has their own limits, but some turn a blind eye to it.

a/n: If there are any mistakes to this, please tell me so I can fix them, as I wrote it past midnight when I wasn't feeling well. I ran through it the next day, but I am just one person and so mistakes could have easily slipped past me. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Back to the masterlist

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Bae had been feeling off all day, from the very moment he had opened his eyes. It was an unsettling feeling, one that sat heavily in his stomach and made his organs twist into knots, like a myriad of snakes piled on top of each other.

Then he met the others and it all became clear, the air so tense you could basically cut it.

He felt nauseous.

It was comeback season; their album was nearly releasing and so everyone had been working day and night to perfect their skills, to perfect this gift for their fans. Each member sported an aura of exhaustion around them, the skin underneath their bright eyes dark and dull. Some looked more worn down than the others, contagious smiles not quite reaching their eyes.

Bae wasn't an exception to this, far from it. He had pulled his fair share of all-nighters, only beaten by 3RACHA themselves. Perfectionism ran in his veins, and so he could easily recognise when someone was trapped in their own mind, ruining their body for the sake of some unattainable perfection.

And it didn't take more than a single glance to see it on Chan, the signs all there and hard to deny.

The male looked like death itself, forced into a prison of flesh and hating every second of it. Those chocolate eyes were dull, never truly seeing what was in front of them unless it was that cursed laptop screen he had spent days upon days staring at. Not to mention how irritable he was, snapping so easily that the younger members were now afraid to approach him, sparking quite a few confrontations that were hard to break.

And Bae was forced to witness it all, heart heavy as their strong leader was crumbling to the ground in front of his very eyes.

It was late at night that Jisung asked him to stop by their studio, needing some advice and Bae had always been happy to help, especially in such stressful times. No matter how much his own joints ached, mind on the brink of exhaustion, he would always heed the members’ calls. And so his hands deftly packed his bag and locked the room, being the last one to stay behind and practise the dance moves until they were burned into his synapses.

He made quick work of the way there, empty hallways bright in contrast to the outside world that was bathed in darkness.

Once he reached the door, he peeked his head in, no need to knock as he was a regular there. Jisung noticed him almost immediately, as if the male had been staring at the door this whole time, rushing to his side with an almost panicked look. That made the alarm bells inside Bae’s head ring ceaselessly, already guessing that it was about Chan; and it wasn't anything good.

“Hyung, oh my god I'm so happy you're here. Chan hyung’s out of control and at this point you're the only one that can help.” - the frightened boy rushed out, words nearly unintelligible.

Bae held Jisung close, running a calming hand through the younger's dark locks as he put a tiny smile onto his face, hoping to reassure and calm the slight trembles in the other’s body. He already knew what this was about; sadly it wasn't the first time, and most definitely not the last.

“It's okay Sungie, go back to the dorms. I'll take care of it, hm?” - he hummed out, voice low and unwavering.

Jisung nodded, looking up at him with wide, grateful eyes. With a small push of his hands away the quokka went, and he was forced to address the heated argument that could be heard from inside the room by now.

Right, Changbin was still in there with Chan.

With a deep inhale Bae pushed the door open, softly closing it after he slipped inside. A sight he was unfortunately familiar with greeted him: Changbin was shouting back at Chan, both participants equally frustrated with each other. So much so that they didn't even notice him, only when he placed his hands on the younger's shoulders, touch firm yet gentle.

“Bin, I got this. I'll pack up afterwards, just go after Jisung. Please?” - Bae asked in a soft voice, his voice only heard because the two were surprised into silence by his sudden appearance.

When he felt that the other was about to protest, unable to let things go, he hugged Changbin from behind and gently squeezed him into himself. It was something he had always done in times like these, when things got too heated; and it never failed to calm Changbin down, something he was hoping to achieve at that very moment.

It seemed to have worked once again as the younger's shoulders slightly relaxed, a long sigh heard from his direction. Bae patted his back, watching him leave before he steeled himself, eyes now staring at Chan.

Chan, who went back to working on a track, jaw set so tight Bae was afraid the man would break a tooth. Still, he knew he wouldn't have an easy time with the older and so he softly called out to him, slightly dejected at the lack of reaction.

That didn't deter him and so he tried again, only to have the raging storm that was now Chan directed at him.

“What? You're gonna tell me to go back and rest too? Save it, I don't fucking need it right now.”

Bae took in a deep breath, the burning in his lungs grounding him and granting just enough distraction to steel himself. His hyung wasn't acting like how he usually did; these words weren't truly his.

“If you're just gonna stand there, you can go. You're bothering me.” - Chan mumbled and Bae could feel his own storm brewing inside, answering the older’s in a silent rage.

With a single step he closed the distance, hand slamming against the table with such vicious force that Chan flinched, wide eyes now blinking up at him.

“I don't need your sass right now either!” - he hissed out, face now so close to Chan’s that he could see the wonderful array of browns swirling inside those eyes.

He took another breath, eyes slightly narrowing down at his entirely too tired hyung.

“I understand the pressure you're under, and you know I do. It's not easy to be the leader of our group, especially when it's comeback season and work buries us alive. But please, listen to us. You need rest now, not more work!” - his voice was determined, words cutting straight to the point as he knew just walking around it with pretty sentences wouldn’t work.

His pleas fell on deaf ears, Chan’s eyebrows furrowing in renewed anger.

“I know my own limits, so y’all can stop pestering me so damn much.”

Bae never wanted to hit Chan so much before, to make the older see some sense already. He could feel his own pulse climbing, heart beating faster and faster. That sickening feeling that resided in his stomach was now replaced by burning acid. The sorrow he felt for the man was the only thing keeping it in check.

“If your limits include snapping at us constantly, then by all means, go ahead. I'll just go back to drying up Innie’s tears then, but maybe Sungie joined him by now too.”

Bae was aware how cruel saying that was, and his heart hurt at the words. But nothing else worked when Chan became blinded by deadlines and the impossible weight of public expectations; he knew, he had tried everything in these past years without any success. His heart ached and broke into tiny pieces at his hyung's expression, eyes now wide and filled with nothing but immense guilt and regret.

Before Chan could say anything Bae pulled him close, not caring how this awkward position was hurting his aching back. He could feel the older tremble in his hold, hands latching onto him as if he was Chan’s lifeline.

There was only silence after that, no sound heard besides the occasional quiet sniffle. Bae didn't acknowledge those quiet little sounds, instead he soothingly ran a hand over the other’s back and drew little shapes into the clothes skin there. The hold on his clothes tightened, making his heart squeeze painfully, pulling the other impossibly closer to himself.

Once he was sure Chan was calm enough, he gently pulled back, giving his hyung an understanding smile.

Chan was always there for all of them, giving them a shoulder to lean on whenever they needed it. He was a constant in their life, their rock, their pillar; something they could lean on when times turned harsh. There was not a day when none of them leaned against their oldest hyung in a way, may the reason be something silly like a lost game, or something serious like the fear of failure.

It didn’t take long for the older to weasel his way into Bae’s heart, and so he swore to himself that he would let Chan lean on him, seek comfort in him, no matter what.

“I'll pack up and then we can go, alright? Save your work in the meantime, before it gets lost.” - he gently instructed before doing as he said he would, waiting for his hyung's nod.

There wasn't a lot to pack up, only Jisung and Changbin’s jackets, along with a bag that belonged to the former. Bae put them all together, the bag slung over his shoulder and the jackets tied around it, leaving his hands free.

“Ready?” - he asked, glancing at an awaiting Chan.

The male stood there, eyes cast towards the ground in shame as his hands fidgeted and tore at his nails. Tension was visible in the older's form and Bae could feel his heart painfully squeeze at the sight, silently beckoning Chan over.

Once his hyung was in reach he kneeled down, back open and turned towards the other.

“I don't-... Bae…” “Hyung, please?”

His voice was nearly pleading, wanting to lessen Chan's burdens as much as possible. Thankfully there were no more protests heard in the silent room as the older climbed onto his back, actions slow and hesitant.

With a single motion Bae stood up, a surprised little sound escaping the one he carried. It drew the smallest of chuckles out of him, yet he just silently went on his way back to the dorms, letting the teasing comments die on his tongue.

It was quiet, neither of the two really spoke on the short trek. They didn't need to; there was a certain level of understanding between them, forged by the time and difficulties they had faced together. It was more than enough for Bae to understand Chan’s silent words, his hyung practically melting into his hold as time passed. That hold around his neck was steady, trusting, and he couldn't ask for more.

“Thank you.” - the words were murmured into his skin sleepily, drawing a small smile out of him. “I'll always be here for you, Hyung.” - his words were but a whisper, afraid to shatter the tranquillity that settled over them.

[callofdudes]

I've got a pride month request coming along as well, I'm just getting lots of writing juices back. So don't mind me, sorry, a little "fun" mental health post. Don't take all of this as 100% as I'm not a mental health professional but I do study psychology for leisure.

Dissociation and indifference.

While able to crack jokes and engage with others, he's generally learned to keep his hands out of hot water, and if he does, he doesn't show that it burns him. On top of many mental health medications causing fatigue, distance, and emotional lows, Ghost does his best not to express the stress that work brings to him. Which is something that can be seen either as a strong male role model, or the less healthy version, evasion of one's emotional needs over physical.

Let's be honest, Ghost spends most of his time in the gym rather than talking to a therapist. And while working on yourself physically can be a breath of fresh air, sometimes it's good to let the mind breathe too.

It takes him a lot of time to open up. For a lot of people, recognizing that trust is trust no matter how close you are to the person. Ghost's lack of trust does not distinguish between blood or friend. It has to be him that makes that step, but it's working through the indifference that helps get to the core of his pain. As indifference to topics like mental health discussions can be a coping mechanism against how one feels.

"Simon, can I get you some tea?" You asked when you looked over at him and saw him sitting silently on the couch. He rubbed his knuckles as he stared at the wall, then shrugged.

"Are you hungry?"

Another shrug. "Depends what you're making." He finally responded, deadpan and unenthusiastic. You frowned softly and decided to make him some tea. Soon heading to the couch, you set down the cup and sat next to him.

You quietly relaxed. "Would you like to talk about anything?" You knew you had to let Simon come to you. It was difficult, but extending that offer and reassuring him you were there was always the first step.

He was quiet for a moment. "No."

"Ok... When you're ready." You gently rubbed his shoulder. You relaxed next to him and turned on the tv. The faint glow of the passing frames flashed against his pupils but his reactions to it were minimal.

After some time, he reached for the tea and took some sips. "Y/n...?" He shifted slightly.

You looked over at him and nodded.

"Can we... Talk about something?"

You paused the movie and shifted to sit facing him some more, giving him your attention. "Of course, what do you need to talk about?"

His shoulders relaxed slightly at the reciprocation, and slowly brought his needs and feelings out, letting you see the inner workings for a little bit. And you listened.

Dramatic emotional switches.

Sometimes this is harder to analyze or to catch, but this can be a sign of stress or like indifference, a cherry aversion to the hectic world around us.

While this can absolutely just be someone's nature, mental health is most times disguised within layers of regular everyday emotion that not even the person doing it may realize.

I think Johnny's cheerfulness comes from his nature, but under stressful circumstances it can come out as a way of attempting to feel in control of his hectic environment. We don't see this often, but it is common amongst individuals struggling with stress and anxiety.

But after these stressful happy sprints, it can lead to an emotional low due to stress catching up, or being too much to ignore and push aside. Leading to days of not feeling happy at all. Common themes of depression can be random emotional highs, followed by feeling like the world is horrible and you'd rather die than do anything else.

Like with Ghost, this can absolutely be a character trait to boost morale in friends, not wanting to see them fall into the emotional state they are wishing to ignore. During work, Johnny comes off as a strong and intelligent role model, and I think he knows how to distinguish work and personal life better than the others. Willing to confront the bulk of his feelings and stress when in an environment where he doesn't feel the need to constantly be the last line of morale.

It had been a while since you'd seen Johnny. You'd recently come back from a pretty excruciating mission and you couldn't blame him for wanting rest. When dinner rolled around you headed to his room and knocked. "Johnny?"

A minute of silence before Johnny perked up. "Come in."

You shifted the door and headed inside to see him relaxing on his bed with his sketchpad. "Hey y/n." He smiled warmly, sharing his warm presence with you.

"Heh Johnny, food is out in 20, guy hungry?"

"Yeah! I'll be out in a bit. I've just gotta finish this drawing."

"Cool, can I have a look?"

He hesitated slightly, then nodded, his smile returning. "Yeah sure." He sat up and let you come over and see his sketchbook. You looked down at the drawing and smiled softly. "I keep forgetting you're so good at that."

He looked up at you, the smile on his lips not fully translating to the lost expression behind his eyes.

You looked at him, and gently touched his shoulder. "You good? I know you had a close call, even if the medics said you were good."

"Yeah, I'm feeling good. A little sore, but it comes with the territory." He closed his sketchbook.

A moment of silence came between you two, and the look you gave him made tears spill into his eyes. "Johnny..." You opened your arms.

Johnny hesitated before hugging you tightly. You held him back, gently stroking his back. "You're ok... We're all ok." You assured him as his tears wet your shoulder. "You did amazing.."

Johnny let out the burst of emotion, finally allowing himself to come down from that false high, and rest in the knowledge that he was ok here.

Overworking, trouble distinguishing work from personal life.

Price has a tendency to overwork himself when he's feeling stressed or agitated. Oftentimes indulging in one or more cigars to momentarily get a hit of relief for a much more extensive problem. When growing up with role models that pushed for perfection and hard work it can make it hard to distinguish the stresses of work from personal life. Price ends up taking a lot of the work stress home, and vice versa.

This can lead to him feeling even more stressed or striving to trap the things going on around him in both personal and professional settings under his thumb. Burying himself in his work can help him feel like he's being productive or that he has control over what happens in that space.

He's constantly reassuring his team, as captain even if he feels out of control it's his job to keep his head on and make sure his team feels like he has both hands on wheel, which can be stressful. Over time this is a tactic that has been branded into his behaviour and he is always doing this.

In his home life this can affect how he acts in the home, including feeling a need to take control more often to feel that people he loves in his environment are properly taken care of.

This can also lead to his underlying anger and tendencies to push down his frustrations and work it out through physical activity or cussing at a wall until he's tired. But, also not the type of person to go to therapy about this, as he may not even realize it's a problem if it's so deep in his routine.

You leaned on the doorframe of Price's study as he worked away. He'd had dinner in there, and the plate was still stacked on the edge of the desk where he'd mentally told himself he would take it back.

"You doing ok, John?" You asked, and walked over to him.

"Mhm. Got stuff to do for Laswell..."

"Important report?"

He shrugged. "Something like that. Just need a bit. I'll come away soon."

You nodded and gently rubbed his shoulder. "Well, don't work yourself stiff, ok?"

He nodded after a moment, his eyes not leaving his computer. You didn't say anything else and left him to his work. Around an hour later you came back. "How's it coming?"

"Mm... More stuff to finish." He muttered, still glued to the screen.

"It can wait, you're off duty... I'm sure Laswell knows that."

This time Price didn't respond, and you knew you needed to step in. "John." You came over and gently touched his shoulder. Finally, he looked up at you, searching your eyes for anger.

You gently squeezed him. "Why don't we play a game together?" You gave him a soft smile, and his shoulders tempted to give way under your touch.

"Why?"

You gently took his hat off and brushed his hair away. "Because, I know you need to do something, so come do something with me. I want to spend time with you."

He leaned slowly into your touch, allowing you to close his laptop. "Can I pick the game?"

"You know you can."

Price stood and you wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged you back. "We can do this together, you're home..."

Mistrust, underlying frustration and vocal outbursts.

Life can be extremely stressful in their line of work and from my perspective, this shows in Gaz's contrast between his calm collected nature and the vocal outbursts he has. This is no doubt because of stress and building frustration that he is struggling to control.

His mistrust in authority or inability to understand or rationalize his surroundings can lead to these outbursts. Kyle's calm and collected side is something to be desired, but when he's alone and has nothing to focus on, that anger can quickly turn unchecked. Whether it be beating a punching back or spending most of his time angrily analyzing interactions or comebacks to conversations in his head for hours.

It's a constant loop, while working, while trying to relax, he's always got an interaction that irritated him running through his head. Or feeling like he isn't smart enough because he couldn't come up with the answers for the conversation at that moment.

Kyle was beating himself up. He felt like such an idiot. I had the bastard right in his hands. He frowned, throwing another furious kick at the punching bag. "Bloody- stupid bastard!" He ground his teeth angrily.

By that point his frustration was obvious. You went over to check on him. "Everything ok, Kyle?"

"I fucking had him!"

You nodded a little. "Hey, can't blame yourself, we all have mishaps."

"Not this time." He said with exasperation. "I had him right there! I had him in my hands! And he still got away..."

You reached over and gently took his arm. "Kyle,"

He moved away, but you gently touched him again. "Kyle, look at me, please."

He exhaled heavily and looked at you, the frustration evident. "I know it's frustrating. But we'll get him. We always do."

"I know..." He hung his head. "I wish I could have done more... The look on the captain's face.."

You gently took his hand and squeezed it. "You're strong, Kyle. You're the best of the best." You gently rubbed his knuckles. "But even the best of us make mistakes, and mess up. You don't have to worry about being perfect."

He blinked, his frustration filtering out from anger, to tears. "Bloody... Hell.."

"Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one."

His shoulders dropped, and with that you gently hugged him. "We'll get him... I promise. But we aren't pinning this on you, ok?"

He squeezed you, a tear rolling down his cheek. You'd stand there as long as he needed, as long as he knew the weight wasn't on him to be the perfect soldier.

[sunflower-author]

HI i've been obsessed with akaashi atm so could you do yandere akaashi

he'd be such a sneaky yandere since he's so observant and memorises your little mannerisms and personality. he knows just what to say to you and other people as well to get you all to himself

anyway idm what you do, have fun with it!! hope you have a good day <33

SORRY IK IT IS SUPER LATE, AND I TRULY WANTED TO DO THIS!!

ALSO I WAS RAMBLING A LOT BUT HOPE YOU LIKE IT;)

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

      It's a Friday and school just ended, you go to the usual spot to meet Akaashi before he has to practice. A bench under the tree, on the opposite side of the gym, giving you guys time to talk, before making it to the gym.

After some time you see Akaashi turn the corner, from sitting on the bench you stand up to greet him. Smiling as you make your way toward him. 

"There you are, I was wondering if you ever were gonna come," you say jokingly.

"Sorry, that was my bad I was caught up with some schoolwork," Akaashi says. In reality, he was writing in his notebook about you. He has a notebook, where he keeps specific tabs about you. Your likes and dislikes, also including plans about what he would want in the future, plans like...

.

.

.

"Y/N, I was wondering if after practice today, would you want to come over to my house to study?" Akaashi says walking.

"Sure, our AP test is coming up, and I'll be lucky if I get 3/5," you say shyly, following after him. (Headcanon that Akaashi takes AP classes) *ALSO I SWEAR I'M GONNA FAIL THAT TEST!!!*

"No comment," Akaashi says as he continues to walk.

"Hey why'd you say that?" you ask, confused and a bit offended.

"Well.. what did you think I would say?" Akaashi asks curious.

"I don't know, just not that, maybe something encouraging at least," you say, trying to defend yourself.

"If I say something encouraging either one, you would hype yourself up thinking your gonna do well,  then do just below that, and get all sad and guilty," 

"When have I ever done anything like that?" you ask not believing that you would do anything like that.

 "Remember your Biology finial, you said that you wanted to get at least a 90, I said how you've been studying so your gonna do amazing, but then you got 89. You ended up with a B for that class, you stayed in you room a whole week during summer, all depressed."

"It dropped my perfect GPA," you say defending yourself.

"Or two, you would study all the time till you only do well on that one test and forget about the rest, before you say anything, midterms... Your lucky it was only midterms."

"That only happened once," In your defense you learned never to try that again.

Rolling his eyes he finally says "Or three, if I encourage you right now, you might not take studying seriously and think you can just wing the test, and therefore end up failing."

"Oh yeah.. I do that one a lot don't I," you say embarrassed.

"You have been improvising a lot more than you usually have, now that I think about it, is something wrong?" Akaashi asks concerned.

"Oh.. you've noticed that?" you ask as you stopped walking, looking down ashamed. " I admit that I have not been studying as much as before... I just feel like I'm burning out... or maybe I am burnt out..." 

Akaashi going right in front of you, he just pats your head, it may seem small, but it is your favorite form of affection from him. 

"You know it is normal to be burnt out, the important and most hardest part is overcoming it. I'm always free when you need me. If you want I'll skip practice today, we can just go straight to my house," Akaashi offers.

"That's very sweet of you Keji, but the volleyball team really needs you. You're the only one who can handle Bokuto, and I can't imagine how sad Bokuto would be when he finds out you're not there today." You reassure him.

"You know I care about you, more than I care about volleyball and Bokuto, just say the word and we can go to my house," Akaashi says, persisting.

"Keji, pretty soon is the Spring Nationals, you need to prepare, I'll meet you after your practice," you say as you start to part ways.

Unexpectedly Akaashi follows you grabbing you hand softly.

"Where are you going," he asks. Normally you would wait for him in the gym's girls locker rooms, till his practice is over, since there was air condition inside.

"I thought that today.. I would go stay in class and wait for you, maybe study a bit before.. so that you don't need to catch me up on anything, then we can study faster tonight," you said.

"What are you hiding?" he ask.

"I'm not hiding anything," you said defending yourself.

"You're avoiding eye contact with me, you keep scratching your neck, and your more defensives than normal, I can tell when you are trying to hide something Y/N," he said. After a few more moments of silence you finally confessed.

"Alright fine... one of my friends invited me to join track practice today, I know you don't want to join any sports, but it was just a practice, I'm not going to join," you said admittingly.

"Was that all you were trying to hide?" Akaashi asks, acting surprised. "I'm sorry if you felt like that was something you had to hide from me," his words so soothing, hiding the venom within.

"It was just because whenever I tell you about a club I was going to join you would always turn the idea down, or convince me not to do the club," 

"That is not true-"

"Soft tennis, kyudo, archery, ice skating, and now track and field," you cut him off, apparently Akaashi was not the only one that was keeping tabs on their partner.

"I just don't want you getting hurt, and plus who knows...  what if you get too involved in the sport and fall behind in school, also when you compete would you be willing to do it, all eyes would be on you, I know you get anxious in a crowd, and when you compete your coach, teammates, friends would all be counting on you," Akaashi explains.

"Yeah your right," you say, realizing that you shouldn't have thought about ever joining a sport, there would be no way you would be able to handle the stress and pressure. 

"I just thought I would be cool to have a sport since your in volleyball, I didn't want you to think I was lazy or something," you say timid.

"I would never think that about you, I know how much you study, how much you help your family around the house, I would never think of you as lazy," He says commending. "But just out of curiosity what type of event would you have picked if you were to do track and field?" he ask.

"It would be pole vault," you say. Hearing those words Akaashi was so glad to have convinced you not to. 

Pole vaulter's have upper body strength, and in the emergency of him kidnapping you, with you having some upper body strength it would just be irritating. He would win though. 

"Pole vault?" he asks, hesitantly.

"Is there a problem?" you ask curiously.

"It is just that pole vaulting is one of the most hardest events, and you're just going to jump into trying it," is all he says. 

But that was more than enough. What were you thinking, trying to pole vault, your in your 3rd year. Image trying to practice, how underclassmen will just see how bad you are. They must be way better, the season started 1 month ago. Also there was other events practicing too, image all those eyes on you.

"Yeah your right, it was just a dumb idea, I'm gonna text my friend that I'm busy," you said as you pulled up your phone, and started texting.

As you start to walk towards the gym with Akaashi following behind you.

[freedomfireflies]

hi! if you’re still taking requests could you please write something about being pregnant and you’re getting some hate from harry’s fanbase about your body and harry reassures you about how you’re beautiful and all that, maybe some smut if you can?? i’m feeling a bit insecure about my body today and i really wish i had someone to help me through that 😓 if you don’t want to no worries, i love your work 🫶🏻

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to do this, but I hope it can help remind you exactly how wonderful, stunning, and loved you are!

“No.”

“Angel…just come here—”

“I said no.”

Harry’s eyes narrow playfully as he regards you from the bed. “Baby, if I have to pick you up and carry you back over, I promise you aren’t gonna like what happens next.”

You snort from your place inside the closet, although truth be told, you don’t doubt that he will. “I’ll be there in a second, okay—”

“No, not okay. I want you here now,” he insists, and you suck in a quiet breath as your lids squeeze shut, willing yourself not to cry.

After a moment or two, you turn around and face him, taking a hesitant step closer as he offers a sympathetic smile. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “That’s it, come on. Right here.”

He pats his parted thighs until you slip yourself between them. And once you do, he takes hold of your hips and keeps you firmly planted to your spot. 

“Now…tell me what’s going on up here, hm?” he whispers, reaching up to tap his finger along your temple. “Tell me, Angel.”

A beat as you debate how much to share. “It's...nothing. Really,” you sigh, not exactly in the mood to divulge the abuse your mind has been putting you through for the past few days.

Well…weeks, actually. Months. Years.

“Eh, wrong,” he declares teasingly. “Try again.”

You look down at him, throat burning from the force of attempting to keep yourself together. “I just…I don’t know. I can’t seem to find anything to wear that I feel…good in.”

His playful attitude seems to diminish, brows pulling together as his lips purse and he looks up at you. “S’your mind being mean to you again?”

“Probably,” you mumble, glancing down at his shirt, hoping to focus on that instead. The look in his eye isn't helping the pit in your stomach. “Or maybe I’m just finally seeing myself for what I am.”

“And what are you?”

You tangle your fingers in the material on his chest. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “I’m exactly who they said I was.”

“Who?”

You go quiet, not exactly thrilled with the idea of reliving it.

“Who, Angel?” he repeats a bit sterner, shaking your hips once. 

You roll your lips into your mouth. “The comments. All the comments. Everywhere. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, Tumblr. At your shows, on the street, from some of those girls at the party. They’ve made it very clear that I’m not your type and I just…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t see it before, or I didn’t want to see it before but now I do, and I just don’t—”

He shakes you again until you stop, palm reaching up to cup your jaw and force your eyes on him. “Hey, easy, okay? Enough. That’s the fucking love of my life you’re talking about, yeah? I don’t wanna hear that shit—”

“Yeah, well I don’t either, but here we are,” you huff, yanking your head away so you can look back down at the floor.

But Harry isn’t so easily deterred, quickly taking your face in both his hands this time around as he brings your attention back to him. “All right, well let’s start with this: they can go fuck themselves. They don’t know my type. They don’t know jack shit about me or what I like—”

“Har,” you interject with a pointed look. “It’s not that hard to guess that your type is skinny and blonde—”

“No, see, fuck that, too,” he scoffs. “Look, am I gonna sit here and pretend there haven’t been a few coincidences? No. There’s a pattern, I see that. But that’s not why I dated them. I dated them because of who they were. Because of how I felt when I was around them. Because of their intentions and their morals not because of the way they looked.”

It’s a nice argument. Almost believable, too. You know Harry like the back of your hand. You know what he’s drawn to. Know that he cares about what’s in someone’s heart first and foremost. 

But you also know that he’s a man and men are pigs and horny all the goddamn time.

“I believe that you believe that,” you tell him. “Doesn’t change the fact that the world expects you to be with someone that looks like…you know, not me.”

That handsome face of his falls into a frown. “You think I make my choices based on what the world expects of me?”

You sigh, head shaking once. “No,” you whisper, rather ashamed. “No, I just…I guess I wished I saw something else when I looked in the mirror.”

He stares at you for a moment. Quietly. Purposefully. Then, he stands.

You scramble back as he grabs your hand and leads you toward the corner of the bedroom where your full-length mirror resides.

Oh, great, you think, feet dragging a bit as he places you in front of your reflection and settles in behind you.

“I’m gonna tell you what I see, yeah?” he declares as he peeks over your shoulder to meet your eye in the mirror. “And you’re gonna fucking listen to me. Not to them. Not to your anxiety or your overthinking. Me. Just me. Deal?”

Not like you really have a choice, you sigh again as you nod once.

“Good girl.” His fingers delicately begin to trace down the slope of your shoulders and down your arms as your breath hitches. “I see the arms that held me the night I found out my friend had died. The arms that make me feel safe and loved. The arms that carried each and every one of those flowers to my mom’s house for her birthday and the arms that let me be the little spoon when I need it.”

Your teeth pull at your lip in an attempt to keep from smirking as his touch travels from your arms to your waist and you watch rather intently.

“I see the hips that I grab onto when I’m fucking ruining you against the wall. The hips that I grab onto when you sit on my lap and grind that pretty ass against my cock when you think no one is looking. I see the hips that I squeeze when you’re dancing with me in that pretty red dress I fucking adore,” he continues, his voice a gentle purr, and suddenly, you don’t feel like smirking anymore.

He moves back up, fingers sweeping down the back of your neck before dancing around your throat and along your jaw.

“I see the face of the woman I love. The lips I love to bite until they bleed. The eyes that look at me when I’m doing something annoying, or stupid, or just a little bit dangerous. The eyes that watch me when I ruin you with my tongue, or when I dance around the stage, or when I get into the shower even though you think I don’t notice.”

You’re not quite sure you’re breathing at this point, his pointed gaze still on yours through the reflection as his hand begins to fall to your chest.

“I see the body that brought you to me. I see your heart in the little things you do. The way you speak. The way you make sure everyone around you is okay before you check on yourself. I see your heart in the way you trust me. The way you sacrifice your sanity just to follow me around the world on the world’s tiniest tour bus. In the way you play my mom’s dumb Rabbit, Rabbit game every month because it makes her so happy and no one else will play it with her.”

Now you do laugh, head shaking as you glance down at the floor.

But he brings two fingers to your chin to raise it back up once again as he leans closer, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. 

“I see the legs that shake when I tease you,” he murmurs. “The thighs that squeeze around my head when you come. I see the skin that looks so beautiful when it’s sweaty and sticky and soft under my touch. I see the ass I could bounce a quarter off of. I see the curves I love to run my tongue along. I see the dips that fit mine like a fucking puzzle piece. Like it was always meant to fit. Your body in mine.”

You’re leaning back against his chest, now hardly able to stand as he nearly brings you to his knees with his words alone. You’re almost annoyed at the way he’s managed to play you and yet…you know that everything he says, he means.

When he’s sure he has your full attention, he slips his arms around your waist until he can press his palms to your stomach, chin on your shoulder as you suck in a longing breath.

“I see the body that holds our baby,” he says softly, and you feel the tears sneaking their way to your eyeline. “The body that made our baby. The body that carries it, protects it, nourishes it. The stomach that looks just as glorious now as it did the first time I saw it. The stomach that I love to run my lips along. To taste, to have, to bite until it’s my name you see when you look in the mirror.”

Your head is spinning, filled with more voices than you can count. And every comment. The ones online, the ones telling you that you’re not who you should be, and now…his.

And then suddenly, it goes quiet. 

Until all you hear…is him.

“I see the love of my life,” he continues as your eyes meet his again. “I see you. I see the only person I want to see. The only person I want to come home to. The only person I’ve ever truly wanted. No matter what they tell you, no matter what you tell yourself…it doesn’t change what I see. No numbers, no sizes, no comments. I just see you. I see the person that makes me feel safe and the body that gives me the kind of hard-on that has me wanking off in a coat closet just to get some relief.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry, so you do both as he smirks and reaches his knuckles up to catch a stray tear falling down your cheek.

“I know that this isn’t something that I can fix, no matter how good I am,” he adds teasingly. “But I want you to promise me something, yeah?”

You nod.

“Next time you hear anybody else’s voice but mine…you come straight to me. So I can show you exactly who you are to me.”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you turn around and kiss him. Fingers in his hair as you slip your tongue past his and try with everything you have to let him know how much you love him. How much you appreciate him.

How much you need him.

He’s more than grateful to have you on him like this, already attempting to pull you back toward the bed, but before the tender moment can pass, you take a second to breathe and press your forehead to his.

He waits patiently, keeping his hold on you tight as you work to find the right words.

“I love you,” is all you can say, lashes falling shut, overcome with emotion and need. “I really fucking love you.”

“I love you, Angel,” he replies, laughing a bit as if he can hardly believe how lucky he is.

Then, he kisses you again.

“Now let me see you.”

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

[healer-pop]

U know what I been thinking abt.....an aphrodisiac fic. I've got it all written out in my head, reader and Sloane are out camping. They are having a good day, set up camp and while gathering wood reader gets poofed in the face by a flower (sporess ooo). Sloane laughs their ass off, and reader is a little peeved getting spores all over themself.

Fast forward, dinner is being cooked and reader starts to feel weird. Hot, high, and really bothered!! They go into the tent to hide, and Sloane knocks on it saying dinners ready. Reader never comes out tho and Sloane goes in to see them sweating, hot and almost sick looking. Sloane tries to tend to them, a wet rag and asking what's wrong are they sick?? The second Sloane touches reader tho...they mewl. Almost a whine that creeps out of the back of their throat. Super sexy sounding. Sloane chooses to ignore it because they think reader is sick... it's just them being sick.. yes obviously.

Maybe Sloane helps them sit up to drink some water and the touch has reader grasping onto their leg HARD. Readers panting like a dog and got them bedroom eyes...

Was toying with the idea of Sloane and reader being best friends everrr with some huge unresolved romantic feelings. This is just the dam that breaks it all open. Obv all consent is given and gotten, and I think it was actually well talked out. Reader reassures Sloane they've wanted this for so long, but if they said no that they could forget it ever happened. I'm crazy insane I'm shaking the bars of my cage.

Googling, “can I sue the anon that wrote the hottest, absolutely most well thought out, mentally damaging fic in my inbox for emotional reparation?”

LIKE HOW DO U DROP THIS AND NOT EXPECT ME TO FROTH AT THE MOUTH???? Anon, I don’t know how you knew that sex pollen fics have always been my favorite but I do blame you for the fact that this kept me up last night!!!! mainly because this is so spot on and also why I don’t really get together fix with Venture, especially with my flowery writing, lengthy ass. That shit would be like 20K before you guys even touched. To me, Sloane is not the one to make a first move. And if you aren’t either, it’s just never gonna happen. Once you’ve actually gotten established, they’re super touchy and able to respect your boundaries, but before? They are wayyyyy too nervous, their biggest one being that they’re just overthinking your interactions with them and they don’t want to mess anything up. Unless you directly say, “I like you and want to date you,” it’s gonna go over their head.

And that would work perfectly for this fic, it would be such a desperate, hot sloppy mess for the both of you: With Sloane, trying to preserve your friendship and not mess this up despite their desire for you, how much this is actually you and how much of this is just the pollen and desperation. And you pleading with them, trying to get across that no, you have wanted this for so damn long and it sucks that it took some stupid horny flower to make you say it, but please, for the love of AURORA, Sloane, TOUCH ME. God I could imagine how red their face would be. They would keep checking in with you to make sure they’re doing it right for you, whether they’re sliding their fingers in your cunt or sucking on your tits!!! You’re almost tempted to go and grab that damn flower and shove it in their face so they can loosen up, but… the way they take care of you, trying every single position to quell your burning arousal…. so loving and tender… it’s honestly what you crave more. They have you on your knees, thrusting back onto their fingers as they encourage you, their beaded bracelets click with every motion, their hand on the small of your back, kneading your ass. On their sleeping bag, legs wrapped around their shoulders, eating you out like you’re as yummy as those s’mores they had earlier, telling you to wet their sleeping bag, they’ll just cuddle naked with you in yours while you put that one out to dry. And yes…. you CAN fall asleep with their strap in you, if it feels good. You can wake up at any time and fuck yourself on it. Sloane will be awake in an instant, helping you roll your hips back, digging into them because god, this has only been a dream. Feeling your flesh in their hands, being able to touch and hold and clench. Might keep a mental track of how many times you’ve cum. You know. For posterity.

And after you’ve been fucked through it? When you wake up with the worst bed head you’ve ever had, covered in sweat and bruises, naked and pressed against Sloane in your sleeping bag? Sloane will kiss your lips shut, guide you back down, and show you the most loving, intimate sex, you’ve ever had. You’ll feel like you have never connected with a partner more than you have right now. Whispers of love from Sloane, complementing how pretty you are, how perfect, how you were made for them, how good you are to them, how they want to see you every day of their life. Completely overwhelming, yet so needed, especially how you were held so helpless to your own lust. They make sure you know that they aren’t leaving. They’ll be here by your side through anything.

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 (pt.2)

a/n: this has been kicking my ass for days but here it's finally done so here she is😭

part.1

cw: eren x ony x blackfem!reader, oral (f + m receiving), jealousy, pnv, unprotected sex, ony and eren call reader; 'ma', 'good girl', and other stuff i'll forgot bc i'm tired:))

wc: 4510 of smut:))

remnants of eren’s warm shower hung from the tips of his hair strands, sticking them to his ears and nape. his torso was bare, and his pyjama bottoms covered his lower half. mid tying his hair into a loose man bun, eren heard a rhythm of light knocks at his door. there was no one he was expecting, so he walked over to the door without covering himself because he just expected to shout ’wrong place’ and go back to enjoying his evening. but one eye looking through the peephole told him that his evening would be a lot more tumultuous than he had anticipated.

all eren’s control of his limbs flew out of his brain to stand beside him, and ask him what the fuck he was meant to do. looking at the two people outside his front door, he could see that ony was looking at something on his phone and you were whispering something to him. something that, from eren’s side of the door, sounded like ’what if he says no?’. burning curiosity revived all of eren’s motor skills, and he swung the door open to find you with a bright smile on your face. that bright smile would dim momentarily at the sight of eren shirtless, as your eyes began scanning his bare chest and chiselled abdomen. but, ultimately, you would be the first to speak,

”hi eren”, you raised a hand, and eren looked at ony before looking back at you. it was hard to read the look on eren’s face. to you, it seemed like an odd mixture of surprise, confusion, with a sprinkle of annoyance.

”hm.”, he hummed lowly, eyes still lidded. it was unusual for eren to look this irritated when his friends visited him. but he knew that, whatever happened tonight, at the end of it all his heart would hold a scar with your name signed next to it.

”can we come in?”, you asked timidly, and eren just opened the door wider, allowing you and ony to walk in. you assumed the tension between them was a product of the conversation they had at jean’s party, but you didn’t bother to ask.

this interaction would either end in a short conversation, or however many hours in eren’s bedroom, so neither you nor ony bothered to sit down. and that made eren’s curiosity perk up again. but, before he could ask any questions, you had begun speaking,

”so…”, the confidence you had built on your way up to eren’s door had vanished, so you looked to ony for reassurance, and he nodded, ”i…uh, don’t know how to say this”, was all you could get out before a nervous laugh left your lips. eren’s annoyance had transferred to ony, and he decided to speak for you,

”you still wanna fuck her, or what?”, he started. eren’s eyes found your face, looking for confirmation or a laugh to tell him this was all some sick joke, but he got nothing.

”she said she’s down, so if you are then do it now before i change my mind”. eren didn’t need to hear anything else for his hand to wrap around your wrist, feet quickly leading you to his bedroom, leaving ony alone.

”what’re the rules?”, eren asked as he led you down the hallway. his grip on you remained firm as he walked you into his room, kicking the door closed behind him.

”there are no rules”, you smirked at him, and his eyes glossed over. until the door swung open again. eren should’ve known better than to assume that ony would just sit in the living room and let eren do whatever to you. but his excitement meant that, at that very moment, his brain knew nothing but how bad he wanted you.

”you nut in her, and i’ll burn this whole place down”, ony said, and you just nodded abashedly at him. eren wasn’t the only one who was excited, and you were disappointed at yourself for letting that show. the same couldn’t be said for eren, because that nigga was not phased by his friend’s threat at all.

”and i’d die a happy man”, was his short response.

your boyfriend’s presence was wiped out in both you and eren’s minds, the second eren’s lips started travelling the expanse of your neck. his desperation could be felt in his fingertips—their soft trailing of your skin quickly becoming them digging into, and kneading, your ass through your skirt. all of this partnered with the way eren’s mouth was spilling a mix of low, heavy, breaths and obscenities onto your skin, was setting it alight.

”fuck, y/n. you don’t know how long i’ve been thinking about this”, he spoke, his breath tickling your neck.

”why are you like this?”, you laughed lightly as you pulled him back to look him in his face, “we both know you could fuck anyone you wanted”,

”yeah, but they’re not you”, he kissed onto your collarbone.

”they’re not me?”, you giggled out, joining your hands at his nape. eren’s eyes didn’t know where to place themselves, so they’d be all over your face until the shimmer from your lip gloss caught their attention. he wouldn’t be looking at it for too long before leaning forward and smudging it with his lips in a kiss he’d been needing for far too long. it was just a gentle meeting of your lips until eren’s tongue brushed past your bottom lip. it would move with yours for a few moments, before he’d pull back.

”yeah. i want you”, his lips uttered, a mix of your saliva and lip gloss still on them.

”well, how’d you want me, eren?”, your eyelashes batted coquettishly up at him, and eren could’ve fainted.

”on your back, clothes off, with your legs spread.”

the second request would be fulfilled by eren's own impatient hands; his main concern not being seeing you naked, but being the one that made it happen. because, inside eren lived an intense burning desire to see his hands undressing you, as you just let him be the one to leave you bare in front of him. eyes that were already acquainted with the sight of your bare chest would triple in size once the elastane knot behind your back came undone. and they’d remain that size as your skirt dropped to the floor. they’d only become lidded once he got on one knee before you, sliding your bikini bottoms down slowly, as he maintained eye contact. he’d take a moment to smirk at your wet folds, before rising to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. wetness would glaze eren’s abs as your core pressed against them and, once he splayed you on the bed, he’d run a finger on the glistening spot on his stomach. before putting it in his mouth, and smirking again at the taste of it,

”ony was right, you are such a needy girl”, would be the final thing he’d say before his tongue flattened against your wetness. you'd shudder at the contact, but eren's fingers would dig further into your plush brown skin, bringing you closer to him as he began sucking on your clit.

comparisons were a terrible idea, but they were inevitable. ony and eren both made you feel good, but in different ways. perhaps it was just the novelty of it all, but eren’s mouth drove you crazy. because eren ate you out like you were his last meal on death row, and he wanted to carry the taste of you into the afterlife. with no regard for the fact that your arousal was smearing all over his lower face. because his main points of focus were you keening his name, and keeping your legs apart as they dangled off the furthest side of bed—a location eren had picked to keep you as far from ony as he could, so he could get you all to himself.

as soon as he saw you two kissing, ony had left the room to get some water to extinguish the fire burning inside him. and when he came back, it was to the scene of eren coercing moans out of your mouth. but, once the shock had settled, he’d pull eren’s gaming chair to the corner of the room and sit there vehemently trying to deny the fact that he was turned on by his best friend making his girlfriend’s back arch off the bed. even though the sight of the bedsheets creasing at how hard you were gripping them made his hand move to stroke his dick through his basketball shorts.

albeit short, the distance between the three of you made it feel like you and eren were the only people in the room. and, with the sweet taste of you on his tongue, it was hard for eren to focus on anything else. barring his pulsating tip that, unbeknownst to you, he was gently driving into the side of the bed. gentle groans and whimpers would leave his mouth at both the sweet tingling on his tongue as well as the miniscule relief he was getting through his tip’s contact with the bed. those vibrations would drive you crazy, fingers running through his hair, before stilling to grab at it. it hurt just a little, but that pain intensified the pleasure eren was feeling from basically fucking into the side of his bed.

”’ren, i'm g-gonna cum fff-fuck”, at those words, eren's tongue would fuck harder at your hole. and the consequences of a funny feeling near your bladder meant that eren's face, chest, and bed were soaked within a few moments.

when he’d finally come back up for air, there'd be a very self gratifying grin on eren's face. and it’d remain there as he slowly moved closer to you, one hand on either side of your head as he leaned over you, his eyes boring into yours. partly due to your hands, and partly due to his frantic actions, eren’s hair was a mess. so you’d lift a helping hand, fingers sweeping it all neatly to tuck it behind his ears. there was no lust in the air at that moment, just amorous affections that had been forced into hiding for far too long. and, now that they were finally being given the chance to see the light of day, they’d run free in eren’s bedroom—building a wall around the both of you as you just paused in time and studied each other’s faces. eren’s was calm, probably due to the hand on his face that had paused there after you tucked his hair away. he didn’t want to move it, but he knew he’d have to. so his hand covered yours, to bring your palm to his lips as he repeatedly kissed all over it. eren’s body would lower just a little bit, and his hard length would poke at your navel from behind his pyjama bottoms. curious eyes would start to float down to it, but they’d be promptly stopped by the wetness of eren’s mouth surrounding your thumb. his tongue would swirl around your digit once before he’d pull it away from himself—the string of spit connecting his lips and your finger becoming an extension of his mouth’s undying need to taste every single part of you. even if you wanted to move, you wouldn’t need to. because eren would take it upon himself to place your hand on his wet chest, moving it down to smear your wetness all over his torso, finally reaching his need for you packaged in flannel, cotton pyjamas.

”y/n, i need your pussy so bad. please give it to me”, eren whimpered out, and you just nodded at him.

had that conversation at jean’s party never been had, eren’s aching want for you would still be evident in the way he fucked you. mainly, the way that he did so like it’d pain him not to. the last sliver of sense he had left, implored for him to push into you slowly—to savour every single moment, as well as to get you both used to each other. but, a man’s greed can be the end of him, and that end would commence when he felt just how wet and tight you were. it became apparent to eren why ony had to take so many breaks while inside you and, as much as he hated to admit, he just didn’t think he could last very long before nutting in you. but he wanted you to know that he could take you. over and over again. until you took every morsel of his being. eren wasn’t as thick as ony was, but his dick still had you tapping his shoulder a few times to get him to stop so you didn’t rip in half. and, to add insult to injury, eren had two veins on either side of his length that meant that you were trying to run from him, and singing his name, before he was fully inside you.

once he was, he’d move quite slowly, just taking in the fact that this was really happening. and that novel disbelief would wear off quickly, when you spoke into his ear,

”h-harder, eren”, it wasn’t much, but it was enough for eren to let go of anything that had been holding him back up until that point; his friendship, fear he’d never be able to get over you once he got a taste of what you felt like, and the fear that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he started. your calves would be pressed into the back of your thighs, the front of them against your chest as eren fucked into you—the sight of your tits bouncing in front of him making it even more difficult for him not to just nut in you. the sound of his balls hitting your ass cheeks deafened you to the fact that your boyfriend was in the corner of the room—brown irises zeroing in on the interaction in front him.

the sight of you and eren surveying each other’s faces had made ony’s stomach twist slightly, but he had been able to unwind it quite quickly. the same could not be said for the verdant creature sitting atop his shoulder that he had been struggling to shake off as his eyes remained set on the fast, but deep, strokes eren was feeding you. your fingers and eyes had been entangled since the moment eren had moved your legs to wrap around him. leading ony to sit still, hands in his lap, as he just watched his best friend make love to his girlfriend. what the actually fuck is going on right now?, he thought to himself.

”turn her around, eren”, ony instructed. his voice overrode the jarring sound of eren’s balls smacking against whatever part of you they were; ony didn’t know because he couldn’t see that side of the bed. even still, it took eren a second to really take in what had just been said, and feel the outrage move through his entire body.

”but—”, was all eren managed to get out before ony moved forward in his chair.

”eren, you turn her around right now or i’ll drag her out of here, and you’ll never see her again.”,

even in the middle of confrontation, eren’s tip wouldn’t cease its attack on your cervix. though sandwiched between the fiery words being thrown above you, moans were still spilling out of your mouth. they’d draw eren’s attention back to your presence—you sounded so good. he didn’t want those beautiful sounds to stop coming out of your mouth so, once again, he’d have to obey ony’s commands just so he could carry on making you feel good. and you felt your stomach sink—not at the fact that the two men were basically using you as a pawn, but at the fact that the lack of eye contact would detach you from eren.

but when he’d turn you around, you’d be reminded of your boyfriend’s presence in the corner of the room, his bleary eyes watching his hand slowly pump his dick. from what your teary eyes could deduce, there was already a layer of nut on ony’s hand, sliding down his length to coat his balls. and when his eyes would move back up to the bed, they’d be met with your eyes lazily gazing at him. he’d smirk at you before getting up to walk over to you. and his dick would be inches from your face when he’d say,

”spit on it f’r me, baby”. and one of eren’s hands would still be digging into your hip, when the other would wrap around to slide two fingers into your mouth.

”just getting all spit that ready f’r him, ma. c’mon, drool on ‘em”, your salivary glands would react before your words could—producing more spit around eren’s digits before he’d push them in a little further, making you gag around them. as pretty was you looked, the only thing ony wanted you to gag on was feeling neglected at the lack of lubricant on it. so he’d pull at eren’s fingers to get them to move out of your mouth. and, once you’d grounded yourself again, he’d move closer to you, allowing the hanging spit to land on his dick. he’d rub it on his length, before leaning down to kiss you on your forehead, and praise you.

”that’s my good girl”, he had said, his eyes locked with eren’s.

the irritation that eye contact had bred in eren was present in how harsh he was fucking into you, the movements lurching you forwards causing your forehead to drop onto the bed underneath you. but you’d still raise it so you could keep looking at your boyfriend. the sight of him getting off to his friend fucking his girlfriend sent a swarm of butterflies to the space in between your legs, and you’d swat them away with your own hand, rubbing circles on your clit. eren was far too lost in you to even notice what was going on—eyes cemented to the movements of the flesh on your ass when it’d connect with him. a vengeful smirk found his face before he said,

”ony, i wish you could see what i’m seein’ back here”, that taunt would hurt ony more than he’d let on, as he simply scoffed and replied,

”when i’m looking at a face like that, how could i care?”, it was then that eren noticed you had been staring at ony this whole time. that’s when that envious monster living within him grew far more furious than it’d ever been, and eren’s hand would grip around your throat to pull your back to his chest. it’d then turn your head so his lips were brushing past the side of your ear.

”you look at him again, and you ain’t nuttin’, d’you hear me?”, he warned quietly before licking and sucking at your earlobe. too distracted by the pleasure coursing through every limb, you could barely nod. it wasn’t until eren moved your hand, and delivered a light slap to your sensitive clit that you’d come back to reality.

”i said d’you hear me?”, his jaw clenched as he fucked into you with less affection, and more anger.

”y-yes, eren-n”, you’d stammer out, before he delivered another slap to your clit, causing you to whine out in pleasurable pain.

”yes, what?”, your brain froze at that question, because he couldn’t have been wanting you to call him the name you called ony. that just didn’t seem right. but, seeing you thinking too hard about it, eren’s hips would stop. that would be met with complaints as his tip had just been kissing your cervix in the perfect way, and now your orgasm was about to be robbed from you. so you’d just have to deal with ony’s dismay at another time,

”yes, daddy”, you said and, with no sounds of skin slapping to drown your voice out, ony had heard you loud and clear. and eren could see it. that’s why his eyes were on ony’s as he placed kisses on your shoulder and told you,

”that’s my good girl”, before lying you back on the bed, face down so you couldn’t look at your boyfriend. that eye contact wouldn’t be broken even as eren leaned down to kiss on your neck, wrapping his lips around a specific spot on your skin for a second too long, guiding a more strained moan to come from your mouth. and when eren would pull back from your skin, ony would notice that the spot eren had been kissing was now darker than the rest of your neck. and completely glazed in a layer of eren’s saliva. the side of your neck was a spot that’s very hard to miss, and that’s why eren chose it. he wanted to know that anytime someone saw it, they’d assume it was the work of your boyfriend. but the fact that the three people in that room would know otherwise made his dick twitch inside of you.

this would probably be the last time you two fucked, so eren didn’t want to have regrets at the end of this. meaning there was no way in hell he was nutting before you did, but he was so close it seemed a possibility within reach. so he’d slam into you harder, gifting your ass slaps every few thrusts, before reaching around you to toy with your clit and suck harshly onto the skin on your neck. pleasure was attacking you from every corner, and you’d soon succumb to it, drooling onto the sheets underneath you as you did so,

”eren, i’m-m c-cumminnggg”, you cantillated, and eren just fucked into you harder, trying his absolute best not to loosen the thin rein he had on his own release.

”go on, ma, nut on it. give it to me, i wanna feel you”, those words were all the encouragement you needed to coat his thighs and bed. and eren was right behind you. his pace would falter, his hips stuttering slightly before he'd pull out of you and nut all over your back and ass cheeks like he'd been dreaming about for weeks.

it could’ve all ended there, and eren would’ve been content. although having sex with you had done nothing but grow his affections, he was sure it would be easier to move on from this now. knowing you had wanted him the way he did you, and he had gotten to see all his fantasies play out in real time would’ve been enough for him. but not for you. eren hadn’t been the only one with fantasies, and your main one was recreating the moment that sparked something in you that couldn’t be extinguished. so albeit wobbly, your arms were able to pick you up to turn you to face eren. still dazed from his nut, he hadn’t really thought anything of it, until your face lowered to his dick. within seconds, your lips were around his sensitive tip, sucking on it like you did a few weeks ago. he winced at the feeling, but still let you hollow your cheeks around him, his balls in your hands. there were no protests from him. even as you'd switch, one hand stroking his length as his balls were in your mouth. all with your eyes met. eren could've sworn he fell for you then and there.

with your wet pussy in the air, how could ony not walk over to you and sat eating it from the back as you're sucking eren's dick? eren's view of your eyes would be cut short when they'd close as you'd feel ony's tongue flat against your wetness. overstimulation would urge you to move away from him, but ony would grab your thighs and pull you closer to him. at the end of it all, novelty is quashed by experience because, as good as eren had made you feel, ony knew your body better than you did. he knew all the right places that made you moan out, sending vibrations through eren’s tip, all the way down to his toes.

overstimulation would pull eren’s nut from him quite quickly, all of it spilling into your mouth. and as soon as the pleasure made him lean onto the bed, your hand would be on the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours again. lust, and the taste of his own release, meant the kiss wasn’t as sweet as the last one. but eren didn’t pull away from you, it’d be you being pulled back by your hips, before you’d feel ony’s tip collecting your arousal. he’d quickly slide inside you, and the last thing you’d see before ony would push your head to the bed would be an overwhelmed eren sliding down to lean against the side of the bed.

”fuck.”, ony breathed out from behind you, his pace quick as he felt you already started to tighten around him. and it wouldn’t stall even as you’d cum around him, speeding up his own release. his hands would still find the middle of your back, perfecting your wavering arch,

”o-ony, i can’t-t”, you mewled.

”just stay wit’ me for a little longer, ma”, he’d whisper, kissing onto the shoulder eren hadn’t kissed. the reason ony had walked over to you was that he had been close to his second nut, and he wanted it to be inside you. so he’d only be thrusting in you for a few minutes before you’d feel warmth spill into you. followed by nothing but heavy breaths filling the room before you’d laugh slightly,

”round 2?”,

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[gingernut1314]

do you take requests? if so, could you write something about polnareff and a… thick…? reader who’s self concious about the way she looks and pol reassuring her? idk if this is weird its just something i need to read :(

No Good, Very Bad Day

Polnareff x SDC!GN!Reader

Summary: You've been having a rotten day. A day your insecurities only had begun to make worse. That is until Polnareff comes to your rescue.

Warnings: takes place during part 3 (no spoilers), reader feeling insecure about weight/looks, Polnareff comforting reader, established relationship

Word Count: 1.8K

Song: Only Girl (In The World) Spotify | Youtube

A/N: So....my requests are actually closed but.....but it's my husband...I...I couldn't say no....how do you expect me to say no to him?? You can't--oops I'm just a girly 🤷‍♀️ (Also I hope you like this--I'm not sure how much I liked how it came out....so I might redo it/do another fic eventually--AH Also I just realized you asked for a female reader and I gave you Gender neutral sorryyyy 😭)

Taglist: @cinnbar-bun @lostfirefly

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The day had been horrible. 

The morning had started off with an attack from an enemy Stand User, who beat the ever-living crap out of your all. You all went to lunch to try and remedy the horrible start, but you had spilled yours over the ground. And then, as you were finding a hotel for the night, you managed to trip so bad you almost knocked Kakyoin into a foul-smelling canal.

And then--oh then there was the matter of you feeling just so horribly insecure the whole day. Not only had your legs decided to stop working properly, but also because your shirt felt too tight around your body. A shirt you picked and pulled and tugged at to keep it from showing off too much of your body to the world. A world you couldn’t help but think was looking at you and judging. 

It didn’t help when a stunningly beautiful person came up to the group to flirt with Polnareff. Polnareff who was your partner. But the Frenchman was too nice and hadn’t said a word to shoo them off until Jotaro snapped at them to get hell out of there because they’re voice was grating on his last nerves. 

They were a person you couldn’t help but feel--envious of because, not only were they beautiful, but they were slim--near stick thin. It was a green emotion you hated to feel towards another person but when they were flirting with Polnareff like that you couldn’t help it and it made you feel just so much worse. 

And the cherry on top of your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day was when you caught the last bit of a conversion the group was having about you. 

“They are a liability.” Is what Jotaro had gruffed to the other Crusaders before Polnareff found you making your way back over. His frown had turned into a bright smile and he greeted you happily, as if trying to distract you from the fact they had been talking about you. He placed sweet kisses on either of your cheeks before snagging the key to your shared room from Mr. Joestar’s hand and guiding you away.

And now you couldn’t find anything to wear for dinner. Nothing seemed to be looking the way it usually did. Everything seemed to point out your curves in a way that just had your anxieties and insecurities increase. 

You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, yanking at the fabric of the newest outfit you had thrown. Tears burned at your eyes as you tried your hardest to calm down and to just go with it but after all of the day's hardships, you couldn’t help it. 

“Andddd perfection!” You heard Polnareff cheer from within the bathroom. He had been working on his hair for just as long as you had been struggling to find an outfit, a wait you were used to when it came to him and his hair. “What do you think?” He asked, coming out of the bathroom to stand behind you. He struck a pose in the mirror that only made his muscles look all the more powerful--though that cheesy, goofy grin of his only made him look like the lovable doofus he was. 

“Uh--yeah.” You managed to get out past the tightening of your throat. You tugged again at your clothes, trying to hide yourself from him. 

A liability. 

What if he thinks so too?

What if he thinks you're too big? What if he doesn’t like you anymore? What if he takes one look at you and decides he doesn’t like what he sees?

What if, what if, what if?

A warm hand gently grabbed your shoulder, pulling you from your endless stream of negative thoughts. Your eyes were blurred as you tried to refocus them, but as you blinked you couldn’t help their escape down your cheeks. 

“What's wrong, mon ange?” Polnareff asked as he guided you to turn to face him. He bent down, those gray eyes looking directly into your own. Eyes just full of so much worry and concern for you. Eyes that told you he was more than ready to defend you against whatever was upsetting you and it only made your heart twist more painfully in your chest. 

He was too good for you. Too handsome and too kind and too--too him and you were just you. 

“Am--am I a liability?” You managed to get out wobbly. Polnareff’s eyes hardened the slightest bit at the question.

“You--heard that?” More tears fell from your eyes then, your hands grabbing for your outfit again, trying to keep it off your skin. 

Too tight, too tight. 

“Is--Is it because I’m like this? I’m not--I’m not as fit as you all--and--I just drag you all down and you could have anyone--be with someone thinner and nothing fits me. Everything’s going to shit a-and--” Polnareff brought a hand up to cover your mouth and stopped your constant negativity against yourself. 

“Stop that. Stop that right now.” He all but commanded, his voice stern. A sob bubbled up out of your throat you couldn’t find the will to stop. “Be with someone else?” His voice shifted then. Shifted softer--almost like he was hurt by your words. “I could never do better than you, mon ange. Never. I do not care what you look like. That doesn’t matter to me at all.” 

Pity. He was just pitting--

“Hey--hey stop that,” Polnareff said, caughting you before you could spiral downward again. “You are perfect. Your beauty is more perfect than words can describe--it's a beauty only art could ever hope to capture.” And he looked so sincere. A sincerity that was only confirmed by the look in his eyes that only true feeling could replicate. You shakily moved his hand from your mouth.

“But--what about that person? Wouldn’t you rather be with them?” Polnareff shook his head, his hand moved so that he could rub soothing circles into your wet cheek. A touch you instantly lean into. 

“Never. I want you. I only want to be with you. You get me like no other could.” Polnareff said, leaning closer. That smile you loved beyond anything you’ve ever loved pulled to his lips then. “Who else would go searching every shop in the city without rest until they found my brand of hair gel?” You huffed in amusement, the ache in your chest slowly beginning to ease.

“Your hair just doesn’t like other brands.” Polnareff chuckled as he cupped your face in his hands. He pulled closer and placed the softest and sweetest kiss on your forehead. A kiss that made your belly flutter and your heart begin to stutter in your chest. 

“See. You get me.” That smile of his never once faltered and his eyes never once left your own. 

“And about what you overhead,” Your heart dropped at its remention. “It wasn’t what you think. It has nothing to do with your looks and everything to do with the fact that you nearly knocked poor Kakyoin into the canal today…” You cringed a little bit at the memory, feeling all to bad for the boy. He had been so sweet about it, but had Star Platinum not caught him he would have nose-dived into the grimy water. 

“....and how you nearly knocked Jotaro into a busy street the other day…and how you dragged Mr. Joestar with you into a pitch…and knocked Avdol into a street lamp…oh and when you stepped on Iggy, though, he deserved that, the demon.” Polnareff hissed at the mention of the dog. It only made you huff in amusement at his rivalry with the animal, who hadn’t caused you too much trouble. 

“If they didn’t know better, they would think you are trying to kill them.” He said, with a chuckle, gray eyes scanning over your features. “You aren’t some enemy Stand User I have to defeat, right?” You rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his shoulder. It only made the Frenchman laugh again, his hands grabbing for your wrists to pull you right back in. 

“If they keep getting in my way I might just switch sides.” You teased. Polnareff’s laugh only grew harder. A laugh that shook through your very soul. One so cheery and bright and never failed to brighten your own mood.

“Joatro is just blunt in his words, you know this.” You nodded, thinking about all the times he had cursed at you or told you to shut up. “No one truly thinks you're a liability and it absolutely has nothing to do with your weight. I need you to know that.” He said, beginning to caress the inside of your wrists in a way that made you feel so cared for. Loved and accepted. “And mon ange--you look so breathtaking tonight. A perfect choice in outfit.” You felt your body begin to heat in your growing flusteredness. 

“O-oh--thank--”

“The only better option would be if you were to go in your birthday suit.” He said with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

His hands began moving from up your arms and over your shoulder, making their way down your back in a way that made a shiver rush down your spine. His hands continued their journey down your back until they grabbed hold of your waist, giving your hips a tight squeeze as he yanked you forward swiftly. A yelp fell from your lips as you braced your hands on his broad chest to keep yourself from crashing into its near brick wall-like solidness. 

“Pol--” You started but him leaning down to brush his nose against you had your words dying in your throat. 

“Maybe we should skip dinner altogether, hum? Please, mon coeur? Let’s just stay in and you could model that suit--” You cut him off with a sharp swat of his hands and a push to keep him away because the longer you stayed in his grasp the more your heart felt like it would beat right out of your body. The more you thought you were going to burn alive and fall into a pile of ash at his feet. 

“Get out of here. Of course, we are going to dinner.” You all but breathed in your flusteredness, smoothing a hand over your clothes. 

“But, mon ange, please--” He started, his eyes growing into those big puppy dog eyes you had never once been able to say no to. You were quick to look away from their power, grabbing for your shoes to keep yourself on track.

“No. You were just complaining about how hungry you were.” You huffed, yanking on one of your shoes.

“But, but--I would rather starve then--” 

“Come on.” You insisted, pulling on your last shoes before you glanced back to him. He was pouting dramatically like that might change your mind. “If you behave…maybe when we get back.” Polnareff was quick to perk up at this, all but jumping to grab hold of your hand and pull you out of your hotel room. 

“I am always on my best behavior.” Polnareff declared proudly. You only chuckled, linking your arm around his and holding him close.

“Sure, love.” You chuckled.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello hello!! How you doing?? Hope you're doing good cause I got a fluffy request!

Could be either 1610 or 42 miles, but, that miles has reader over cause he wants to impress her with his cooking but fails miserably and nothing goes as he wants it to be and reader is entertained 😆

Doing this w Miles G because something abt that is funnier to me (also he is making Ivorian food bc that's just where my brain went so you're getting African!Reader today 😭 also this is based on what I seen my parents do so idk the standard way to cook anything whoops)

You felt your phone vibrate and grinned upon seeing the contact name 'Gonzalo' flash across the screen.

"Miles?"

"Ion know who else it could be," the boy's voice filtered through your phone’s speakers. "You busy?"

You shook your head, then remembered that Miles couldn't see you.

"Nah, I'm just hanging out."

"Come over, I got a surprise for you."

The sound of something hitting a surface repeatedly in the background catches your attention, as if someone's chopping vegetables.

"Ooh, is your momma cooking? Hey Mrs. Morales!" You attempt to call out.

"She not here," Miles laughs. "I'm the one cooking. You coming over or not?"

You raise an eyebrow at your screen, and he notices the brief pause.

"You know, I can hear your lack of faith in me."

Still, you stand up in front of your bed and slip your crocs on.

"Guilty as charged, Gonzo. I'm coming over anyway to make sure yo' ass don't burn down Rio's kitchen. She doesn't deserve that," you joke.

"I'm not gonna–aye, what'd I say about that nickname–?"

"Bye!" You sung as you hung up.

Miles set aside the last of the veggies he was dicing with a dull scrape. With a swift movement, he slid the pieces of onion into the frying pan with the filleted fish already cooking in it.

The boy took a step back for a second to assess his work: the attiéké you had brought him last week to try out was soaking in a large bowl, waiting to be drained as the scent of simmering vegetables and spices began to spread across the kitchen. Miles grinned, feeling accomplished.

It all went to shit once you rang the doorbell.

"Hey, ma," he opened the door to you grinning in the hallway, arms crossed.

He enunciated the greeting you had taught him carefully, "On...dit...quoi...?

"Very good!" Planting a kiss on Miles' cheek, you quickly slipped your crocs off before stepping inside. "What's with the apron?"

He looked down, and remembered he had borrowed his mother's 'Kiss the Cook' apron.

"Cuz I'm a professional and I do this," he replied, locking the door behind you.

"Are you sure? I don't think 'professionals' leave the stove on unattended."

You laughed as Miles' eyes went wide and he spun around to dart back into the kitchen, cussing under his breath.

"It smell good, though, don't it?" Miles called out over the sound of sizzling.

It does smell good. And familiar.

"You making what I think you making?"

You popped your head into the kitchen and gasped with delight.

"M-hm," the boy nodded as he stuck the bowl in the microwave. "It is supposed to go in here, right?"

"Yup, I'm shocked you remembered."

Miles stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

"C'mon, you don't believe in me?"

The smell of smoke and caramelized onions wafts beneath your nose, and worry slowly creeps onto your features.

"Baby, watch the stove!"

"Shit!"

-

Miles sighed as the two of you leaned on the counter. His stretched out his fingers, having had to wash the remnants of burnt fish and onions out of the frying pan.

"It's fine," you reassured him, rubbing circles into his back. "At least we still got the attiéké, right?"

"Yeah, it's still up there."

Despite attempting to sound casual, the disappointment in Miles' voice was audible. You reached out and toyed with one of his braids before gently tilting his chin towards you.

"Hey, we still got a few hours 'till your mom gets home. You got anything else in that freezer?"

Miles' eyes lit back up as he replied, "Hell yeah, we got a couple chicken thighs left. Round two?"

"Yup," you pecked him on the lips, "but I'm doing the frying this time."

[heartilywrites]

Hey! I love your Korra x reader fanfics! I was wondering if you can do one about how Korra proposes to the reader with a betrothal necklace!

،، 𝓛over is a Day ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: Korra thinks is time to make the big step in the relationship.

content warning: fluff, but like a LOT of fluff ; comfort ; Korra x fem!reader ; established relationship ; no nation nor bending status mention ! (but it is mention that r is not from the water tribe) ; kataang mention <3 ; no use of y/n

wc: 2.2k

a/n: + “Korra x reader reunited after 3 years”, I was so tempted to use Bruno Mars' "marry you" for the title–. Thank you for your words and the request 🥺 ENJOY, LOVE :D

“ The birds gonna make the wedding bed and the trees gonna lay the wedding table and the rivers gonna give us the wedding bands.

One might describe marriage as a way of making official a relationship in front of the law, for others it could mean an exchange of interest, but Korra has always had the idea of marrying for love.

Her parents had always said if it was on her plans to marry someone she needed to do it for love and not as an obligation and Korra was surrounded with true love stories her whole life so she wouldn't settle for less. And neither would you.

Meeting the avatar during her probending days could be the best thing to happen to you, in your words. You've been in the girl's life since then, in the bad such as in the good and great and she was forever grateful with you for your company; having you take the first step by asking Korra on a date after the championship and Amon's whole mess was cleared and after that it was all in color pink for you. She had this unique way of making you feel like she was your first love, always having butterflies in your stomach, giggling like a teenager, captivating every ounce of attention you had and making you deliver all the love you could ever produce in a silver tray just for her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “This is my girlfriend!” Korra introduced you cheerfully to her parents. You could feel your face burn.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's so good to meet you finally, Korra has been telling us so much about you.” Senna walked to you, taking your hands in hers and giving you a comforting smile.

Tonraq looked at the interaction with a serious face, making you feel nervous from your toes to your crown, you offered him a crooked smile before doing a small bow.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's such an honor to meet you both,” you started taking a step back, your hands were behind your back while you moved them agitated. “Korra also told me about you and I'm so glad I get to meet the two people who raised such spectacular woman.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What kind of intentions do you have with my daughter?” your girlfriend slapped her forehead and Senna shook her head.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Just the purest, sir!” you were quick to respond before Korra could say anything. “I love your daughter, I wouldn't do anything to hurt her.”

The avatar looked at you astonished, neither of you had said 'I love you' to the other by that point and it made her blush how you were the first one to do so in front of her parents. The couple began to smile big and embrace you in a hug before welcoming you to the family, Korra joined later on.

If there was someone who could keep the avatar grounded was you. When things get tough and she needs someone for reassurance, Korra always looks for you first, it doesn't matter how the time is or if she has everyone on her shoulder asking for an answer. She was repeatedly at your door, wanting to spend time together either for you to give her advice or just looking for you to distract her from the outside world.

And you always followed her everywhere she wanted you to go, at least that was before she decided to return to the Southern Water Tribe alone after her last battle against Zaheer.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sure this will be for the best, love,” you whispered, kneeled in front of her, her eyes looked tired and dark circles surrounded them. They had lost that characteristic brightness you loved. “You will get better, I can go visit–.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, no,” she said hoarsely abruptly, taking you back. “I need to do this alone, I... I'll write to you.”

And that was the last time you talked to her face to face. The next months everything was purely written, you would try to not look desperate in your letters, but always remembered her how much you missed and loved her and how you were waiting for her.

And after the first year, the letters got fewer, Korra had written how powerless she felt and you would write her back to don't give up, how healing sometimes took more time than expected.

At her third year gone, six months in, she stopped writing. It took you by surprise, but you thought maybe the therapy was taking more from her day, you would reunite with your other friends as much as you could.

When the airbender kids got her back from the swamp, everyone was so secretive about her return to you, you didn't even know how Tenzin's kids went to look for her. That day Asami had ask you to meet for lunch, almost like everyday, and when you arrived you saw the girl, Mako and the one monarch that was supposed to be king, in front of them there was a silhouette you knew like the back of your hand.

Asami greeted you with an excited smile and the avatar turned, a little bit scared to see you. Her heartbeat went crazy when her eyes met yours; there you were, the woman she had on her mind ever since leaving the city, the only one who could make the avatar nervous to the point that she felt like she was dreaming once more about meet again with you. Slowly she stood up from her seat and walked up to you, you were teary-eyed at her sight.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Darling, I–” she tried to talk, being interrupted by your arms around her in such an impatient hug which she reciprocated.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You're okay, thanks the spirits,” your voice was trembling, her heart broke at that. “I got so scared when you didn't write back those six months, I thought something happened to you or maybe you didn't want nothing to do with me anymore.” you were talking so fast, but Korra was able to understand everything.

She embraced the hug and shook her head. “Never think that, I'm so sorry for leaving you in the dark so long, I needed to find myself again and... I'm just glad to be back here with you.”

You went to seat with the group to catch up, being met with interruptions at the kidnapping of the monarch. After that tiny reunion, everything felt back in place, you both felt as if a very important part of you was back even if you were in war with a crazy leader wanting to take Republic City by force, you were there and that was all that matter to Korra.

When everything was over, Korra had asked you on a date night before Varrick and Zhu Li's wedding that same day. Her hand was playing with the jewelry she had carved herself with such pride in her hand opposed to you while the two of you were walking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That's such a beautiful necklace.” Katara had said looking over Korra's shoulder, the avatar stopped and looked back at her with a smile, showing better the jewelry to her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You think so?” The older woman nodded with a smile back at her. “Do you think she would like it?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sure she will,” she answered. “And I'm also sure she will say yes.”

Korra blushed while smiling and nodded. “I hope she does...” her eyes wandered back to the necklace. “Maybe we are too young.”

The master waterbender giggled a little bit. “You know, Aang gave me a betrothal necklace too when we were around your age.” Korra's eyes shot surprised back at the woman who shrugged. “When you feel like the time is right everything comes easy after, the universe ends up working at your favor. If you're sure she is the one, take the step, you won't regret it.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Honey, are you okay?” you asked pulling her out of her thoughts afterwards. You both were now sitting at the edge of the circle that surrounded the spirit portal, she looked at you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.” she brushed it off, your gaze went back to the portal, your eyes shining with its light and Korras eyes were fixated on you.

She was sure of her next step, it was a big step for sure, but she wanted to do it with you. You had been by her side all this time despite anything, her parents loved you, her friends loved you, she loved you in such a way that felt crashing, but at the same time it felt like it was right. You'd never let her down and she tried to never do it to you either.

If anyone asked her at that moment how she saw herself in the next five years, Korra would say with such confidence how she saw her and you together. Waking up to you by her side, coming home to you, being able to introduce you around as her wife, the love of her life.

Your face turn her way when you heard her voice call your name. “I... I don't know how to begin this,” she confessed giggling nervous. “I guess I should first thank you for always staying by my side and never leaving me, even when I disappeared that long, you waited for me...”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I would always wait for you,” your hand took the one she wasn't hiding. “It doesn't matter how long it takes.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And I love you for that, you have no idea how much.” even if you were confused about why she was saying all that now, you smiled to her. “I want to be with you every single day of my life, you're the love of my life, my light that guides me in the darkest of places, my rock were I can find rest when the tide is being harsh with me, the reason I keep going and want to be better for.”

You opened your mouth to ask why she was saying all that, but just as if she could read you, her other hand showed the betrothal necklace and your eyes widened. You knew what it was, even if you weren't from the water nation, you knew about it; back when Eska asked Bolin –or claimed him– in marriage you had asked Korra about it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “A betrothal necklace,” she answered raising her eyebrows at the sight of her friend. “In my nation, when you want to ask someone in marriage you gift them a necklace for them to wear.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I see,” you nodded looking at the earthbender and then back again at her. “Ours should be better.” you had said in a joking way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Way better, it will represent how I can't live without you.” the girl hugged you with a little of strength that made you laugh and start a new topic.

The necklace you were looking at was the most gorgeous one you have ever laid eyes on. Korra had carved the moon and ocean spirits in their fish form, your eyes started to tear at the memory and the significance of the jewelry in it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Marry me,” she blurted out, her hands were shaking a little bit, but with your blurry sight you couldn't see it. ���Be my wife, I want you to be with me our whole lives, I want to tell everyone that you're my wife, I want you to be part of my family... Officially.” small sobbing sounds were heard from you. “Allow me to be the one to care for you in sickness and in health, until death do us apart.”

You needed to take a moment to breath in deep so your voice could be clear to her but your head nodding with excitement. “I do! I accept! Yes!” you said once you calmed and threw yourself to her give her such sweet and thirsty kiss almost as if you have never kissed her before.

It took feeling your lungs burning asking for air to separate you both. After straightening back up in your seats, Korra had put the necklace on you and when you turned around to show her she smiled big at the sight of you. It was way better than when she dreamed about her proposal, to her eyes you looked like a goddess under the moonlight that was beginning to shower around you both.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Spirits, you look so gorgeous.” she said like she was out of breath. “I think we should go get ready for the wedding. I'm so going to presume our engagement to everyone.”

Your ears felt warm and you giggled while shaking your head. “I think I need to look in my wardrobe for a dress that would look good with the necklace, fiancee.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shit, that sounds like a dream,” Korra took your hand to start walking back to your apartment to get ready, you laughed. “Say it again.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Fiancee?” you heard your girlfriend let out a tiny scream before holding you in a hug.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Someone will have to kick me out from the wedding, I will never shut up about it, fiancee.” she said making you laugh harder. “Who do you think would be the most surprised one?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Wu, probably.” you answered. You knew everyone was going to take the news with the same excitement, it was going to be a fun night.

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger:

Star Scar-Crossed Lovers

They don't know how much they'll miss At least until you're gone like this Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath Half your life, you've been hooked on death" Twice the dreams, but half the love Be careful what you bottle up The chemistry is a mess, it seems But me, I'm still a sunbeam I will never ask you for anything Except to dream sweet of me I will never ask you for anything Except to dream sweet of me Tell me, when the party ends Will you still love who I am, I am? - Fall Out Boy, Heaven, Iowa

Here's the thing - Ezra's disappearance and subsequent absence from Sabine's life was always going to hurt her in a way that no one else's did.

All because Ezra was kind. That's the horrible, tragic irony of it all that keeps me up at night. Sabine has lost so many loved ones throughout her life: ran from her own family; her fellow Mandalorian and friend Ketsu Onyo left her for dead; Kanan died to allow her, Hera, and Ezra to escape Imperial forces; and, later on, her master, Ahsoka Tano left her shortly after the Purge of Mandalore.

It's arguable that even Hera and Zeb presumably became estranged from her at some point during or after the events of the Original Trilogy. The Ghost Crew split up. Sabine is alone on Lothal and clearly is not accustomed to visitors when we see her in the Ahsoka premiere.

Sabine, as we know, is accustomed to this. She has developed a method of "moving on" and forging a new path ahead. She internalizes the pain, for better and worse, and keeps moving.

It's served her fairly well.

But not with Ezra. He does the one thing none of those others did: he leaves a message, just for her, shortly before his disappearance with Thrawn into another galaxy.

With that message, that act of unconditional love and kindness, it leaves an indelible scar on Sabine's heart.

With the others who left or died or she ran away from, she could ignore the pain. Sabine could justify it for being due to one reason or another.

Ezra's message does away with that defense. Slips past through her hardened exterior and nestles deep within her heart.

Because he's kind. Because he's Ezra and he didn't want to leave his friend without saying good-bye and wanted to give her some sense of closure.

"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined." - Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

She doesn't close the door on Ezra. But she can't cross through it either. For the next ten years, Sabine becomes stagnant, keeping that fire of hope burning for her lost friend but unable to act on it.

And she plays that message every day, probably.

Plays it again.

And again.

And again.

She dreams of that recording; has Ezra's statement memorized to where she mouths along the words with him and can even copy his mannerisms. Sabine takes to heart every little one of his movements and how shy and awkward he looks when he says she's "like a sister" to him.

(And she scoffs. Every single time. But doesn't quite know why that line irritates her.)

The tragedy is that Ezra's message was meant to reassure Sabine and let her move on . . . only to do the exact opposite.

It becomes a burden to bear - one that she does so willingly and with all the ferocity and determination she can muster. But, still a burden it is, despite Ezra's good intentions.

Sabine eventually does the unthinkable - she takes on the mantle of a Jedi.

Think about it. Never, in the entirety of Rebels, had she ever shown an inkling of being interested in following the Jedi path.

Why now? What's changed?

It's simple. Ezra's gone.

Maybe it's a desire to get closer with him but, equally likely, Sabine sees it as a potential avenue to find him someday. She's seen it's power and the abilities it produces in those who are able to wield it.

But even that path forward to Ezra fails. Her people - and her family - are purged by the Empire and Ahsoka cuts her Jedi training short out of fear for Sabine becoming dangerous should she reach her full potential after such a tremendous loss.

More years pass, but the fire never dies. But Sabine cannot do anything. She stays locked in Ezra's watchtower, seeing the galaxy return to life but not feeling any of it for herself.

And then, eventually, Ahsoka returns with the map to Thrawn.

We know the rest.

The planet of Seatos. The map. Ahsoka's fall.

Sabine's choice. The only choice. The grand calculus of the universe demands that she place duty over love; that she throw away Thrawn's one chance of returning to finish what he started.

And, in doing so, doom Ezra to die far, far away from home.

And Sabine makes her choice. Gambles the fate of her galaxy, the hard won peace that so many had fought and died for - all for love.

The Ahsoka finale seems to find Sabine and Ahsoka making peace over her choice. Yes, Thrawn has returned to the galaxy - but so has Ezra, thus fulfilling Sabine's promise to herself of getting him home.

Ahsoka reassures her that the Force has plans in motion - that although they are stranded in another galaxy, they are meant to be here. Just like Ezra is meant to be back home.

Trust in the Force. Sabine and Ezra will find their way back to each other, no matter what.

. . . But there's always consequences to a decision. Always.

I don't believe that Sabine sacrificing her desire to be with Ezra after being kept apart for so long is the true cost of what she did. I don't think that's her real trial.

I think the real reckoning is yet to come.

Because Ezra never found out how she came to find him.

Sabine could not bring herself to tell him. Because she is, appropriately, scared of how he will react. She does not want to lose him again.

(The weight of that will break the galaxy.)

Helping Thrawn return is not only a betrayal of everything Ezra and others had sacrificed for but it places Lothal, Hera, Jacen, Zeb, and countless other beings in extreme danger.

In making her deal with Baylan to find Thrawn, Sabine may end up losing him again in a way more permanent than being trapped in a distant galaxy.

Sabine got him back after so long . . . only for her choice to cause an irreparable rift in their relationship.

The loss of Ezra's love, trust, and respect for Sabine is something I cannot fathom how she would handle. She saved him, only to lose him because of it.

And to think from it on Ezra's side - that he doesn't know how his message came to define Sabine's life these past ten years. He's Force-sensitive and, more importantly, knows Sabine better than most people; he knows she's hiding something from him.

But I don't think he could guess it was something like helping Thrawn. He wouldn't even consider it being in character for her, let alone especially for someone who is training to be a Jedi.

Ezra would never, for a single second, consider that Sabine is a traitor. It's unthinkable for him. It's probably why he never questioned Sabine further after she showed up on Peridea with little explanation.

For what reason would she risk the galaxy? To throw everything into the hands of the galaxy's most feared and cunning Imperial warlord?

And when he finds out it was all for him . . . . my heart breaks for Ezra.

The scar of Sabine's choice would mark him long enough for several lifetimes.

How do you fix something like that? How do you come back from a betrayal that burns everything you've ever sacrificed for, everything you've ever stood for?

How do you face the person you trusted to safeguard all of that, only to find out that they're the one who lit the flame?

How do you reconcile that they did all these terrible things for you?

(Ask Vader how well that turned out for him.)

It's Sabine. It's Ezra.

And the scars they've given each other . . . all for love.

If Filoni is brave enough, then this could be the most interesting relationship in all of Star Wars.

[pandorasfavorite]

Punching Bag

AN: guys proof read this for me, I'm too tired. FLUFF FINALLY MY LOVES.

Something about Dominik getting hurt never sat right with you, Of course, you expected it to happen and you didn't think much of it often. Lately, though Dominik had been getting thrown around all because the scriptwriters thought it was good for the plot. Truthfully you were starting to get frustrated because out of everyone in the Judgment Day, Dominik is the only one getting the bad end of the stick.

Dominik was holding his side when walking into the dressing room, making your eyes twitch in anger and irritation. You stand up and meet him in the middle of the room, lifting up the side of his shirt to see a large bruise forming on his side. "Shit babe, again?", you trace around the bruise as you process it. Your anger changed into worry when Dominik walked in. Don't get anything wrong here, the anger is still burning inside, but it's not Dominik's fault.

Dominik winces at you touching his bruise, making your eyes snap up to him. Like whiplash, your mood changes again back to anger. The rest of the Judgement Day is just watching; trying to see how far this will go. Your heart aches for Dominik, his bruising and constant pain resonating with you. You step back running your hands down your face; heat tingling at your fists. You take a few short breathes, but you soon realize that isn't enough to calm yourself down. You stride towards the door muttering to yourself, "This is fucking bullshit". You swing open the door and let it slam behind you.

The room is awkward. Everyone is trying to understand the anger and the context of everything that just happened. Dominik doesn't ponder on it, he's worried for you. He puts his shirt back into place and runs a hand through his hair, walking out of the door to find you. There isn't much Dominik can do to comfort you; other than rubbing your back and reassuring you he's okay... he's at a loss here. You know he's not okay, hell his side is black and blue and the rest of his body is recovering from last week.

The reassurance from Dom meant nothing to you. There is also nothing you can do right now, but everything in you begs to take a hit for him just once so he doesn't feel so much pain.

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

Today Rhea is going against Raquel at payback. The match has had some build up and the Judgement Day is looking forward to what is hopefully a win. Dominik was instructed to go out and "check on" Rhea in the middle of her match for dramatic effect. Which is fine because its all friendly and a way to show that Judgement Day is tight nit. You are already at ring side cheering Rhea on, and ridiculing Raquel because you didn't like her much either. Who knew today was the day that you want a match against her for contributing to Dominiks pain.

Dominik tumbles in, laying his front half on the ring reaching for Rhea in order to help her. Rhea pulls Dominik in not realizing what could've happen to him, Dominik slides into the ring but backs up almost immediately. Raquel has the upper hand here and was going to deliver a power slam onto Dominik. Youve studied the way Raquel fights and just based on her posture Dominik was in for it.

Maybe you arent in the right mind when you do it but you fling yourself off the floor sliding in front of Dominik and standing up in front of Raquel. She wastes no time putting you into the position with you thrown over her shoulder. You kick and trash as much as you can; knowing well and good your not prepared for the crash. Raquel holds onto the back of your head and flips you over, your back slamming onto the ring along with the rest of your body.

The stinging feels so unberable, your roll away trying to touch your back... to sooth the pain that Dominik would've felt. You can practically feel your shoulderblades brusing on instinct, you went into that blind. Dominik goes into these things blind too, not knowing what is awaiting him. Sure it hurt physically, but you feel so much better knowing that it was you and not him. You push yourself to hang off the side of the ring, your head and a arm hanging off the side while you try and catch your breath. Dominik runs to the otherside of the ring where you lay winded struggling for clear breathes.

His hands not so stubly shake as he holds your face, his eyes glide over your back and your painful look. He whispers to you not trying to get the attention of the cameras, "Baby, Im so sorry", he feels the tears of shame gather in his eyes and he tries to breathe through it. His voice trembles some, "Im so sorry". You pat one of his hands, smiling the best you can at him for now. You manage to slide of the ring to stand next to Dominik but he doesn't let that last for long. His arm snakes around your waist as he holds you up. His eyes urging Rhea to hurry up.

Its some kind of miricale but Rhea finishes up the match, showing off her belt and then coming to hold you up as well. Rhea still shoots daggers at Raquel and then looks back at you so Raquel knows she's still in for it. You all move to the infirmary, Dominik deadly silent, only the clicks of shoes can be heard in the infirmary. Dominik and Rhea sit you down, Rhea looks at Dominik and him and her share some kind of look. Rhea nods and walks out.

Dominik eyebrows are furrowed in and his eyes are sad when he looks at you, Dominik pulls up a chair in front you. He takes both your hands into his and he lays his head on them for a moment to collect his thoughts. He lifts his head up, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. "Dont ever do that again. Please I don't want you hurt" he pleads. You shoot back instantly, "And I don't want you hurt", you say trying to justify your reasoning behind this.

Dominik shakes his head no, grimacing with guilt... you got hurt for him. He kisses the backs of your hands, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before he talks, "Please" it comes out in a whisper. A plead. Your eyes soften and you see how hard he is taking this. He moves closer to you, looking at you with expectation, "Baby, Please?" it comes out soft like its his last resort. Your lips pull to the side but you nod none the less.

"Let's talk to our boss. They will have to understand you can't be the punching bag Dom", you say with a mildly stern voice. Unegotiable. Dominik opens his mouth to say something like, 'it's okay' or 'there's no need'. "They will understand", you say every word defined with purpose, your eyes stuck on his. He nods holding your hands up to his face, "Okay". He says softer than ever, certain.