#i was actually upset to a point of tears earlier

[incorrectskyrimquotes]

I lied about going to bed and against my better judgement decided to check the tag One Last Time before actually sleeping and okay I'm actually truly genuinely touched by the amount of people defending me and the poll and telling Certain People off for the ridiculousness that was my inbox today. I am going to bed on god fr now but. God. Thank you.

[thethingything]

okay time to go lay down and hope we don't fuck up our sleep schedule even more and maybe if I manage not to accidentally fall asleep and if we actually manage to have the energy and not be in too much pain we can do something fun afterwards

[hugepolecat3298]

one of the bizarrest contradictions i think in how the toxically masculine act is how theyre all “ohhh nobody takes mens mental health seriouslyyyy i want to die all the time but nobody cares cause im a MAN” and then they turn around and go “its pussy shit to not like it when your friends mock you when youre hurt or upset. it just means that you dont have a sense of humour. thats just how real men show care and affection” like ok sir have you considered that maybe youll stop wanting to kill yourself if you tell your friends that you dont like it when they call you a gay crybaby for having to stay home sick from something

[its-avalon-08]

say something, say anything (ln4)

summary -> lando and y/n got into a massive agrguement and he yelled at her. she leaves to get some space and he is left to pick up the pieces.

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort

The air crackled with tension in Lando's sleek apartment. Dinner plates remained untouched, the remnants of a playful afternoon at the Monaco harbor replaced by a suffocating silence. Y/N, her back ramrod straight, finally broke it.

"I can't believe you said that to Daniel," she said, voice tight.

Lando scoffed, pushing back from the table. "Come on, Y/N, it was just a joke."

"A pretty cutting one, aimed at someone who's actually struggling this season," she countered. "And in front of everyone, no less."

"He should be able to take a jab," Lando mumbled, his playful demeanor replaced by a defensive scowl.

"That's not the point! It's not funny to poke fun at someone's performance, especially a teammate."

"Oh, come on," Lando's voice rose a notch. "Don't pretend you haven't laughed at some of Ricciardo's antics yourself."

"That's different! It's all light-hearted banter, not publicly belittling someone on a bad day."

Lando slammed his fist on the table, the sudden noise making Y/N flinch. "Look, will you just fucking drop it? It's not a big of a goddamn deal."

The anger in his voice caught Y/N off guard. Tears welled up in her eyes. "That's not how you talk to me, Lando."

His expression softened a fraction. "Y/N, I—"

"No," she cut him off, wiping at her eyes. "This is fucking childish. I'm going for a walk."

She grabbed her purse and stormed out, leaving Lando staring after her, a knot of guilt tightening in his stomach. He waited for a beat, then pulled out his phone, his heart hammering in his chest as he dialed your number.

One ring. Two rings. Voicemail.

Frustration bubbled up. He tried again, the same result. He slammed his phone down on the table, his anger returning.

He fumed for a while, then finally dialed again. This time, you picked up.

"Y/N," he started, relief flooding his voice.

"What, Lando?" Your voice was cool, devoid of its usual warmth.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," he said, forcing a lightness he didn't feel. "It was a stupid joke, and I shouldn't have said it."

"An apology would've been nice back at the apartment, before I had to practically walk out," you countered.

"Yeah, well, you could've just talked to me instead of storming off like a—"

He stopped himself, realizing where that was going. There was a heavy silence.

"Don't call me immature, Lando," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

"It's kind of immature to walk out on a conversation just because you're upset," he retorted, defensiveness creeping back in.

"Oh, so now it's my fault for being upset by your lack of empathy?"

"I have empathy, Y/N! But I also know how to laugh things off sometimes. You need to lighten up geez."

The line went dead. Lando stared at the phone, his frustration morphing into something close to despair. He'd messed up, royally. He knew you weren't the type to throw a tantrum, but walking out after he yelled? That was bad. Really bad.

He sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. He needed to fix this, but how? Maybe some flowers, your favorite chocolates… but that felt like a band-aid on a gaping wound. He needed to do better. He just hoped you'd give him the chance.

a little later

Y/N wandered the park, tears drying on her cheeks, leaving a trail of saltiness. Her phone buzzed incessantly with Lando's calls, but she kept it silenced. She just needed some space to process the anger and hurt. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into a familiar figure.

"Oh, Y/N! Hey!" boomed Daniel's voice, his usual infectious energy dimmed. Heidi, his girlfriend, greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N felt a fresh wave of guilt. "Hey, guys," she managed, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The puffiness around her eyes must've been a dead giveaway.

"Everything alright?" Daniel asked, his brow furrowing with concern. "You look like you've been crying."

Y/N quickly blinked away any threatening tears. "Oh, no, it's just allergies. Hay fever's a nightmare this time of year." It was a lame excuse, and they both knew it.

Heidi, perceptive soul she was, placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Are you sure? You can tell us if something's wrong."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the urge to confide in them strong. But Lando's immaturity and the sting of his words still felt raw. "Honestly, it's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. Thanks for your concern, though. It means a lot."

Before they could press further, Y/N shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, there's something I wanted to say." She turned to Daniel, her voice sincere. "I'm so sorry about Lando's comment earlier. It was completely out of line, and I know you're working incredibly hard."

Daniel gave her a sad smile. "No worries, Y/N. I appreciate you sticking up for me." He patted her hand lightly. "Just tell Lando to ease up on the… team spirit, shall we say?"

Y/N gave a weak laugh, unable to meet his eyes fully. "I'll try."

With a forced farewell, she turned and walked away, leaving Daniel and Heidi to exchange a worried glance.

Daniel, phone pressed to his ear, marched purposefully towards his car. "Lando? Speak to me."

There was a nervous pause on the other end. "Hey, mate," Lando said, his voice strained.

"Don't 'hey, mate' me," Daniel cut him off, his voice low and firm. "What happened with Y/N?"

Lando flinched at the sharpness in Daniel's tone. He mumbled a vague explanation, trying to downplay the situation. Daniel, however, wasn't having it.

"Listen, Lando," Daniel interrupted, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I know things haven't been going great for me this season. But that doesn't give you the right to take a jab at my performance, especially in front of everyone. You know better than that."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "And from the way Y/N sounded, it seems things escalated beyond a 'joke'. You know she cares about you, right?"

Lando mumbled incoherently, a knot of shame tightening in his stomach. Daniel didn't need to hear his answer.

"Just… sort it out," Daniel said with a sigh. "And for goodness sake, apologize properly. She deserves it."

The line went dead, leaving Lando staring at his phone, the weight of his actions hitting him hard. He'd hurt Y/N, embarrassed Daniel, and created unnecessary tension within the team. Now, he had to fix it, but where to even begin?

Panic gnawed at Lando's insides. He'd called Y/N a dozen times, each unanswered ring echoing his growing fear. He couldn't believe he'd let things escalate so far. To make matters worse, her phone's location service was disabled, adding another layer of frustration.

He knew her usual haunts, the park being a top contender. Throwing on a cap and sunglasses, he jumped into his car, speeding through the city streets. Every corner looked the same, his heart pounding with a frantic rhythm. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted a familiar figure on a park bench, a discarded coffee cup beside her.

He parked haphazardly and sprinted across the grass, his chest heaving. Y/N, her back turned, didn't even turn her head when she heard his approach.

"Y/N," he said, voice ragged. "Hey, please listen to—"

She remained stubbornly silent, staring intently at a group of pigeons strutting across the grass. Lando felt defeated, his shoulders slumping. "Look, I know I messed up. Big time."

Still no response. He felt like a fool, rambling on to a brick wall.

"What I said to Daniel, it was stupid and insensitive. And then yelling at you… that was just… I don't even know what I was thinking. You didn't deserve that."

He took a deep breath, finally registering the hurt on her face, even from behind. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. Can you please forgive me?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Just as Lando felt all hope drain away, Y/N finally spoke. "You know what, Lando? You hurt me. A lot."

Her voice, though quiet, held an unexpected edge of strength. It was a wake-up call, and Lando felt a surge of gratitude that she hadn't shut him out completely.

"I know," he confessed, his voice thick with remorse. "I feel terrible about it. Please, just talk to me."

A long, agonizing silence followed. Finally, Y/N sighed, a flicker of something softer returning to her eyes. "Alright," she said, finally facing him. "But you better be sincere, Lando Norris."

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He knelt before her, taking her hand in his. "More sincere than you can imagine. I value you, Y/N. You're… everything to me."

His voice cracked slightly, and he saw a flicker of empathy cross her face. "Just… don't take that for granted, okay?"

He squeezed her hand, his heart overflowing. "Never. Never again. Can you forgive me?"

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze searching his. Slowly, a hint of a smile played on her lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But on one condition."

Lando grinned, hope blooming in his chest. "Anything."

"No more insensitive jokes about teammates, especially when you know they're struggling. And no more yelling when we fight."

He chuckled, relief turning into pure joy. "Deal. In fact, I'll bake Daniel a giant apology cake. How does that sound?"

Y/N laughed, a beautiful sound that chased away the last remnants of tension. "Sounds like a plan."

He stood up, pulling her into a tight embrace. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, a comforting balm to his soul. As they held each other, the anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a deep sense of love and understanding.

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, filled with unspoken apologies and renewed devotion. As they deepened the kiss, a sense of peace settled over them.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Y/N snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. With his arm wrapped around her, they sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the afternoon sun basking them in its glow. They had a long way to go, but for now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

[chuluoyi]

omgomg y/n in love entries feeling insecure because she cant fit her clothes due to being pregnant and gojo reassures her 🥹🥹

in your later stages of pregnancy, you don’t feel pretty anymore—or more like not at all, and the feeling stabs you once again when you tried to wear your favorite jeans only for it to not fit your thighs anymore.

bouts of vertigo, aching spine and the way you should’ve grown out of your morning sickness by this point make it even worse. you still feel nauseous when accidentally moving too much, and satoru made it clear that you’re taking your maternity leave as soon as you hit the eight month mark. but staying home and being idle all day doesn’t really do you good aside from reflecting on your current physique.

you love your baby, but carrying him isn’t exactly a breeze. sometimes you just don’t want to wake up at all.

which is why on this particular night, you finally break down in tears, thinking that you just have to let it out to make yourself feel better.

what you don’t count on is that satoru will be back earlier than usual, and sees you in your sobbing mess. his heart sinks because you never really cry, not unless it’s a major problem.

“hey, sweetheart, why are you crying?” he gathers you in his arms and you look up to him in slight surprise.

“w-why are you back already? hic…”

he shushes you, wiping your tears with his thumb gently. “what upsets you? does the baby hurt you?”

“n-no… i just feel like… i’m getting so big…”

“hmm? of course you are. you’re growing our baby. if you don’t get big, i’ll feed you until you do.”

that actually stops your tears as you stare at him with a slight frown. “satoru… i’m mourning my figure here.“

“and i’m saying you don’t need to because you can take it easy,” he grins. “and i love you soft like this anyways. you feel like mochi.”

“…you don’t get turned off… by me?”

his clear eyes widens a bit, and in that very second, he knows he has to make his point loud and clear… and not in just words.

which is why you then find yourself on your back, biting back soft pants—the very generous mound of your belly laid bare as he trails soft kisses along it, before his lips proceed downwards—

—all to show you that he might actually have a thing with how you look with his baby inside you.

[the-californicationist]

he gets his revenge

Part 2 to "he comes closer and closer" -- at @numberonetastemakerwhispers request. <3

TW: explicit consent, sadism, masochism, spanking, degradation

“I know all of your hiding spots, pretty girl,” Price teased you in his low, rumbling voice, “....and I know that this one is your favorite.”

He was right, of course. But, you’d chosen this one on purpose. There was a part of you that wanted to be caught this time. You saw his bare feet pad slowly, skillful and silent, across the concrete floor of the office. You had fled to the base's reference room, and you were hiding under the microfiche machine. It wasn’t big enough to allow him in, but you could just barely squeeze through. 

“You like it because I can’t come in there after you, but...” he leaned his head down to the ground in a half-plank, snarling at you in the orange glow of the machine’s lamplight, “I have a long reach.”

You tried to dodge his hand, but he caught you by the ankle and dragged you out of your burrow like a cat does to a mouse. He flipped you over onto your stomach and shoved your body underneath his. He was still only wearing his gym shorts from before, and his dick remained soft and spent from your earlier edging. He’d asked you to play with him, to edge him, and you had. But, you may have taken it a little too far. Now, he wanted revenge and it was very much at hand. 

“John! Please. I was just doing as you asked!” He loved it when you turned helpless. You raised the register of your voice to a higher pitch, exciting his drive even further, feminizing your movements by over-exaggerating your cowering stance. Doe eyes. Just for him.

“Yeah?” He chuckled darkly, fully unrestrained in this dark office, “Call me by the name I like, love, or else…”

You pressed the first of many buttons,

“John…”

The slap that hit your ass was so hard that it made your body run cold. You couldn’t even scream. It was as if you had been a camera, and your mind had just taken a photo with the flash on. You were dazed by the stinging pain. He was upset, that much was certain. As the burn melted into a masochistic sort of pleasure, tingling out and radiating from the point of impact like a fresh sunburn, you cried out the words he wanted to hear,

“Sorry, Captain! Please…”

He purred like a lion, humming his approval as he pinned you to the dirty floor,

“That’s a good girl. Why can’t you be so good all the time? Such a fuckin’ brat. Needs her Captain to show her how to behave.”

Two more slaps stung sharply through your skin. One was to your ass cheek again, the same aching spot, but the other was to your hamstring on the back of your thigh. That one made you cry out in earnest.

“Mmm, yes. That’s what I like to hear. Sing for me, pretty girl.” 

He took both of his huge hands and smacked them down at the same time on both of your thighs. Your body tried to make sense of the feeling, and you could literally feel the wetness begin to slip out from between your folds, making your pussy lips slide together as you writhed from the pain, trying to escape his trap. 

“Ah! Please, please, Captain. I’m sorry,” you begged, knowing how much he liked it. Second button pressed, you waited for his response. 

“You will be.”

You had truly underestimated his wrath this time, and you were worried that he might actually take it too far. 

He grabbed your pants and raked them down, exposing your ass and thighs. He hummed, running his fingers lightly over the damage,

“Mm, that’s gonna be a bruise, love.”

Price slapped you hard again, just like the first one, but this time on bare skin. You felt it rattle your bones in your body, and you seized up from the pain, involuntarily trying to escape it. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You had known you’d be a crying mess after his threat to chase you down, but you hadn’t expected to cry so soon. 

He grabbed your hair and yanked your body back into a cruel arch to meet his face as he hunched over you, menacingly. Price had a glare in his eyes that made you imagine him as some sort of animal. Beastial and primal in his ruthlessness. He kissed you, awkwardly and upside-down, licking you more than truly kissing your mouth. He whispered softly into your face, a heavy contrast to the pain he was causing to your body,

“Are you wet for me, love?”

You tried to whisper out a yes, but he was pulling your neck at such an angle that only the air escaped through your gritted teeth. He understood you anyway, letting your body fall back to the floor unceremoniously.

“You are, huh? Let’s see, shall we?” He pulled your ass cheeks apart like he was breaking open a pomegranate, witnessing your plump flesh turn red from his slaps and spill its juices from your swollen lobes.

He seemed pleased, letting out a low whistle and chuckling to himself, delicately fingering your drooling hole, soft and supple, pulsing with anticipation,

“Wow… look at you. My naughty girl craves her punishment, don’t she?”

“No! No, Captain, I - ah!”

The captain used his other hand to smack you hard and fast, three times in the same spot. 

“Oh, fuck. You do like it, love. I can tell. Every time I hit this fat arse...” he slapped you again for effect. You let out a sob. He continued, “...your pretty little cunt grabs my finger and doesn’t want to let me go.” 

He was moaning now, humping his hard length on your thigh, fully erect again and extremely aroused,

“I wanna feel that with my cock, love. Green?”

Price was good about checking in, especially in the middle of a scene. He was patient, and he gave you plenty of processing time, leisurely fingering you while he waited for your consent. You sniffled, nodding,

“Yes, Captain. Green.”

He slapped you twice and left his hand on your ass to fondle it roughly, shaking it like a dog with a rabbit in its mouth. 

“Good. Now, give me what I want.” 

You were openly crying now, tears rolling down your cheeks. You peeked over your shoulder to show him your tears and to watch him push himself into you. He had his shorts rucked down to his knees and his cock in his hand, pointing it towards its target, and as he found it, you watched Price’s face twist into that familiar agony you knew so well.

Teasing him had been enlightening, and you knew that he only made that face when he was on the brink of his pleasure. You decided to press button number three, and you slammed your hips back into him, forcing his cock inside of you all at once as opposed to the controlled entry that he had planned. His eyes went wide with shock, and he looked up at you, just in time to see you hide your grin. The captain’s gaze turned sinister. 

As much as you had tried to spear yourself onto him, you’d left a few inches on the table. His first order of business was to remedy that, ramming you down to his base, stretching you far beyond what you had bargained for. Then, he began to slap you in steady, harsh, evenly-spaced beats. He chose a cheek at random, so you never knew what to expect except for more burning pain.

Each time he slapped you, you cried out, and eventually, the pain warped itself into rhythmic bliss. You could feel yourself clench around him. He wasn’t even thrusting into you, but it felt like he was since your body was squeezing him so damn hard. 

“You naughty girl,” he berated you, slurring his words, “Thinking you could rush me, trying to fuck yourself on me like a…” every word forward was punctuated by a slap of its own, each harder and more merciless than the last, “...filthy. fuckin’. slag!”

He gathered you up by your shoulders, somehow reaching into you deeper than before at your new, arched angle, and you moaned from his effort, feeling your pussy melt around him like hot wax. Price groaned too, low and slow, and you could feel his rod throb inside of you, aching to come. With your chest high, he raked up your shirt and played with your nipples messily and without aim, growling into your ear,

“Such a good little slut for me. Always so goddamn starved for my bloody fuckin’ rod, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently, making sure to put a high-pitched whine on it for his benefit, and for yours.

Price began to thrust into you now, no less cruelly than his hand had treated you, hard and deep, bullying your womb with his fleshy, swollen head. 

“Mmm. Every time you pulse around me, it makes me want to come in you. Makes me mad with it. I imagine how it feels while I watch you on base, sittin’ in your fuckin’ uniform, listenin’ to my bloody briefings, starin’ at me all hungry like. Arghh!” He slapped you again and sighed contentedly, “I get so. bloody. hard.”

“Ah! Captain, please…” He was too deep. It was as if you could feel him in your throat. If you swallowed, you thought the spit would soak his cockhead. 

“It’s my favorite fuckin’ thing,” he smacked you over and over, fucking you into the concrete floor, thrusting your body forward with his massive weight. Your nipples were raw, scraping the ground, and you tried to use your hands to catch yourself, but he was too strong. 

He shuddered, shouting with a gravelly resonance, still slamming himself into you, pushing through his orgasm, and you felt him spilling into you, warmer than usual. It felt like he had poured hot caramel into your walls and was stirring it up in you, frothing his cream to a bubbling, sticky mess. 

Then, he stilled. Laying on top of you, he panted harshly, trying to catch his breath. He began to kiss your neck and shoulders. Then, he gently removed himself and pulled your body into his lap, leaning against the photocopier behind him. You were draped across him, clutching his chest and neck with your hands, crying softly into his skin from your twisted joy. He used his fingers to play inside of you gently, feeling his messy come and spreading it all over your folds, massaging it into your ass cheeks, smearing it across both of your holes. 

“You okay, love?”

“Yes, sir,” you kissed his chest as it was the closest thing your mouth could reach.

“Gonna come back to my quarters tonight? We need to ice that arse. Not gonna be able to run your drills tomorrow.”

“Drills?” Your voice couldn’t hide your panic. 

He chuckled, kissing your forehead,

“I warned you, love. Don't test me.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

[gumycandyyy]

୨♡ Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ Ｋｉｎｇ ＨＣＳ ♡୧

I am ashamed of tumblr for not making more fanfic of this funky fruit.

We got some general HCS and then some romantic ones under the cut! (I went a little overboard with the romantic ones, hehe!)

Gender-neutral

୨♡ Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ ♡୧

-Man's self care routine is off the charts

-I'm serious, he has like- 80 different bubble bath concoctions.

-Smells like mint

-or some kind of cold scent.

-I feel like he loves dressing up fancy, so he has a closet full of sparkly suits

-maybe even some dresses if he's feeling special.

-Doesn't actually need to wear glasses, he just likes how they look.

-While he loves his winter wonder world, I feel like he'd enjoy rainy weather more than snow.

-He got rid of all his madness and sadness, yes, but I think he'd cry at something especially cute. Happy tears, y'know?

"Why are you crying, sir? Are you okay?" "Oh, it's nothing. *sniff* Just those two rabbits that are cuddling."

-He is really bad at any percussion instrument

-like.. REALLY bad.

-His hands are too delicate for such a garish instrument as the drums!

-He loves playing duets on the piano, but rarely has anyone to play with.

-I mean, he could always concoct up an ice creature to play piano with him, but that's honestly quite dull.

-His favorite movie would probably be an old Christmas movie, like It's a Wonderful Life.

-He gets kidnapped by the Candy Queen so often, that occasionally he brings a book or something snuggly to help him wait for his ice scouts to rescue him.

-He once got so bored while kidnapped that he tried to read to some of the mutilated candy people

-That was the last time he saw his favorite book.

-Safe to say he doesn't bring his favorites anymore.

୨♡ Ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃ ♡୧

-Will literally spoil his love interest rotten.

-You want that thing you saw earlier?

-Consider it yours

-You'd like for it to snow outside?

-A sprinkle or a blizzard?

-Literally anything, this man will go to the ends of the universe to get you what you'd like.

-Love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch

-probably acts of service too.

-Loves dancing.

-Loves dancing.

-Whether it be a slow dance or ice-skating, he will take every opportunity to dance with you!

-He adores short people.

-Good, because he's tall as a giant.

-if you're shorter than him, he will no doubt use you as an armrest.

-He always makes remarks on how cute you are.

-Even if you're only two inches shorter than him.

-If you're taller...

-hoo boy.

-Expect him to be all over you.

-figuratively and literally.

-Will want you to carry him everywhere, sit in your lap, rest against you, whatever.

-Just let him touch you.

-He'll talk about how strong you are, how you'd be the perfect chair, etc. etc.

-He does the stupid "How's the weather up there?" jokes.

-Loves your body, no matter what it looks like.

-You're skinny?

-You're easy to carry around and dance with.

-You're chubby or fat?

-Literally will always be holding onto or resting on part of you. He loves squishy people.

-Somewhere in the middle?

-He could not care less. He loves you regardless of what you look like.

-And he makes sure to emphasize his point by complimenting you endlessly.

-He will never leave your side.

-Even if you need space, he doesn't.

-So why wouldn't you?

-Back to our regularly scheduled fluff-

-Candy Queen hates your guts.

-She thinks you're an obstacle, keeping her from the Winter King.

-No doubt tries to kill you.

-Multiple times. a day

-Her plans are always foiled, but if she gets too close to genuinely hurting you, Winter will be so upset.

"Oh, Dearest, please tell me you're okay!" "You are?" "Phew. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt in any way."

-His petnames for you are probably

-Darling,

-Dearest,

-My love,

-There are a lot more, but those are the main ones.

-LOVES kissing you.

-Anytime, any way.

-He finds it adorable when his nose bumps your face.

-Favorite place to kiss would probably be the back of your hand.

-He is a gentleman after all.

-Overall, he just adores you.

-And he sincerely hopes you love him just as much as he does you.

Headcanon requests are open for Winter King! Don't be afraid to send an ask, and be shameless! I know I am! (No smut tho. Some spice is okay, however.)

Have some free WK art for coming this far!

reblog for a beginner writer?

[tearsofastraeax]

hiii i just love ur stories and i was wondering, could u write a story where a lot of girls flirt with ghost (cause he's just so hot tbh) and we're crying and feeling bad bcs we're scared he'll find better since he dosen't reject or ignore them??

ty a lot and take care <3

thank u anon ♡ i had so much fun writing a lil angst

sorry it took me longer than expected to wrap up your request, the creative juices are not flowing these days, but i hope you enjoy ♡₊ ⊹

It's no surprise to you that going out with an incredibly fine piece of man is going to come with some jealous feelings here and there.

Just a couple weeks after you started to hang out with Ghost, you noticed women staring at him. But you didn't blame them, how could they not stare? Ghost just naturally attracts women, with his broad shoulders, his veiny arms, those giant hands ... you could go on and on forever.

But you never expected to find yourself sitting in your bedroom, hiding underneath the blanket and silently sobbing into your pillow because of it.

Earlier that day when you were out with Ghost for a drink it really hit you. You had barely left for a minute to head to the bathroom, but when you came back you saw a beautiful woman standing next to him. Inching closer and closer to him, her hand on his shoulder and a flirty smirk on her face. And it didn't look like he was opposed to it in the slightest. His body was slightly angled towards her, his face covered in mystery behind his mask, but you could feel his smile, you just knew.

Your heart felt like it was about to drop, break apart, stop beating all together. Your stomach was in knots. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute, you had no right to be jealous, right? You were only seeing the man for a couple of weeks now, nothing serious... only, at one point, unbeknownst to you, your little heart had accepted him in and made it serious. You were fucked, royally fucked.

To feign calmness you took a slow breath, in and out. Before you made your way back to Simon and the woman still plastered to his side. You coughed uncomfortably to make them both aware of your presence.

It took him a moment to take his eyes off the woman, before he turned to you.

"Oh, this is my friend, y/n," he looked back towards her, gesturing to you.

You all but managed to swallow the big lump that had formed in your throat. His friend? Is that all you were? A friend? Nothing more? Did it only take one beautiful woman to suddenly make you nothing but a friend to him? You should have known this, it was just too good to be true. Of course he would find someone better than you. You felt your eyes begin to water, but you aggressively blinked the tears away. No, you were better than this.

"Yea, his friend", you pressed out, a tight and obviously fake smile on your lips. "Who is just about to leave actually. Have fun."

You grabbed the jacket haphazardly thrown over the seat next to the one you were just sitting on and turned around. Your legs carrying you out of the bar, you couldn't wait to get out of there, to just get away, as far as possible.

What you didn't see was Ghost's slightly confused expression as he watched you leave. But what you did know was he didn't follow you. Didn't he notice how upset you were? Did he just not care?

You huffed out an annoyed sigh, at yourself, at him, at the world, at everything.

You had barely made it home, slamming the door behind you, before the tears came. They welled up, making everything blurry, and then they came crashing over you like a wave, making it hard to breathe, harder to see and impossible to do anything but slide down against the door and sob into your hands.

And there you were, laying in bed, an hour later, still fucking pissed and sad and helpless and jealous and ...

Your phone vibrated next to you, Simons name popping up on your screen. You tried to ignore the call but he immediately called again. Deciding to pick it up you heard a low growl in your ear, the hairs on your neck standing up, a slight shiver running down your back.

“Open the fucking door, y/n.”

The edge in his tone made you immediately jump off the bed. For a quick moment though you stopped in your tracks, hating how he could command you and make you feel, how he had so much power over you when clearly he didn't feel the same about you.

But you heard him pounding on your door, so you hurried to open it. The door swung open and his eyes immediately bore into yours. You swallowed down a thick lump in your throat as he crowded into you, effectively pushing the two of you into the apartment. He slammed the door behind him shut and stared down at you, never breaking eye contact.

"What the fuck was that?" He growled. You couldn’t fucking believe his attitude, weren’t you the one that was supposed to be angry?

You took in a deep breath before you answered, "well, I wasn't the one flirting with some chick..."

You meant for the words to come out more powerful, maybe even as aggressive as his. To make him understand that he had no fucking right to barge in here like this and act as if he had the right to demand answers.

"You...", his gaze softened then, shifting into ... surprise? "You're jealous?"

All you could do was shrug, feeling too raw from crying to vocalise your feelings. But to your surprise, he didn't say another word, his hand softly cradling your cheek. Your skin underneath his felt hot to the touch as you looked up to him. His eyes seemed so soft and gentle then, making your breath hitch in your throat. The feeling of him wrapped around you like a warm blanket was overwhelming. His gesture nearly stitching your heart back together all by itself.

"I'm sorry... I-", was all he could say before his lips pressed onto yours, so harsh and hurried, yet somehow gentle and sweet.

His hands slowly travelled down your body, once he reached your ass, he lifted you up so effortlessly, your legs immediately wrapping around his, as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently whispered between kisses, "I'm gonna make it up to you, I promise."

[princessbrunette]

reader upset bc things just aren’t going her way today, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed after not getting much sleep, and her hair didn’t turn out the way she wanted it too, she couldn’t find her favorite skirt and she broke her nail. rafe takes her with him to run errands and handle business, and she’s quiet and upset the whole time and she just needs her rafe but he’s so busy right now. eventually something small happens like she trips over her feet or spills something over herself and had a meltdown, bc we all get overstimulated and have meltdowns sometimes :/

i can’t explain to you how much i relate to this :(( have too many days like this one !!

you’d be quiet for the most part, more quiet than usual but rafe isnt gonna necessarily question it, just chalking it up to being in a bad mood. by the time you’ve made it to the car, everything’s overstimulating you. you don’t like the songs that keep coming on the aux, the car is rumbling too loud, rafes being quiet too so it’s just setting you on edge thinking somethings up, it’s just too much. but worst of all, you were hungry.

rafe had some errands to run, but he’d promised you fries, mentioned casually earlier which he’d probably forgotten about. you were holding onto that fact, knowing being fed would greatly cure a large part of your foul mood.

you’d passed the midway point, rafe completing another task on behalf of his father before you finally speak up— voice croaky from lack of sleep and lack of use. “can we get food now?”

he glances at you, reversing out of his spot, looking over his shoulder with his mouth parted in concentration. “huh? oh — uh, yeah, yeah soon. i left somethin’ in the boat so i gotta go pick it up.” he speaks casually.

for some reason, it’s your tipping point.

“no… you said we’d—” you’d go to argue, but suddenly burst into tears, crying into your hands. once you start, you quickly realise you can’t stop, the overstimulation and every issue you’d faced that day catching up with you. rafe frowns in confusion at you, eyes darting between the road and your hunched over form.

“hey, what are you — why are you crying?” he asks, and you can’t answer— far too upset. he sighs, thinking for a moment you’re being a tad dramatic, so used to being spoiled by him that you’re crying over something so minor. he doesn’t like seeing you so upset though, so he sighs and starts to turn his wheel, the car hitting a U-turn. “alright, hey, alright. i’ll get your damn fries. shit.”

it’s only when you don’t calm down he actually starts to get a little concerned. you cry the entire journey, not lifting your head from your hands— and all he can do is spare you worried glances before ordering your food. he parks in the lot, a wad of napkins from the food bag in his clutch and turns to you.

“look at me, kid. please?” he instructs, and you reluctantly do. blinking through gloopy mascara and sniffling your snotty nose shamefully. he dabs at your face, holding the napkin to your nose and quietly telling you to blow. he then sets it aside, and places the fries in your lap, running his hand over his chin and jaw thoughtfully for a moment.

“m’sorry.” you break the silence, staring down at your fries. he sighs, shaking his head.

“what happened, hm? was it me? did i fuck up?”

“no rafe, just got overwhelmed. im having a bad day.”

he stares at you for a moment, turning his body to face you more. “what do you… what do you want me to do?” he asks, his own finger gently prodding at his chest. he was trying to understand you, trying to be a good boyfriend. you think for a moment, glumly staring at your hands.

“i wanna go home and just be with you.” you sulk. he nods slowly, staring off out the window.

“y’know i got shit to do though, baby. can’t just… drop everything, you know? got people countin’ on me. m’handling shit today. ” he squints, hating that he has to be tough— but makes his voice gentle enough to soften the blow.

“i know.” it comes out as a broken whisper, and he can tell you didn’t like his answer. he stares at you, helpless, before speaking once more.

“eat your fries, and then you’re gonna go lay down in the back and have a nap, okay? think you need one. we’ll figure it out from there, a’ight?” he places a hand on your shoulder, tilting his head down and staring into your eyes, hoping what he’s saying is good enough. you think for a moment before nodding and he smiles, patting your cheek.

“alright, that’s my girl. proud of you, okay baby?”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiiii ms dilf lover! Love your writing, was wondering if you would write something about Miguel and an insecure reader. Some guys make fun of her stomach randomly in the street, and he stands up for her like the hero he isssss 🤭

hii!! thank you! sorry for the slight delay, I did tweak some things slightly hope that’s okay. I love things like this and ive missed him SO SO bad omg! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

OVERHEAR.

miguel o’hara x implied chubby fem!reader — comfort

word count. 1048

It’s often unusual for you to return to your shared apartment with a frown on your face, upset in your voice. Coming home to Miguel, you had no reason to be that way.

Though, that changed today. 

You were out shopping earlier on, picking up some new pieces for the change in weather, until you stumbled upon a group of teens in the area you needed to get to. You waited, you were patient. You even looked at things you didn’t need so they didn’t feel rushed. 

And then you heard those giggles, those little laughs and whispers telling you all you needed to know. You discreetly looked over to them, pretending you were scratching your shoulder as a means to see what they were laughing at. 

Which is when you saw it, the smallish group of both boys and girls snickering and pointing and gesturing – all of them making fun of you. 

Those little unkind acts were all that was needed to ruin your mood. You were already uncomfortable about shopping on your own as it was, and then they just obliterated any of the minimal amounts of joy you were feeling.

And so, you put all your things back and leave the store, pretending their words didn’t bother you – when in actuality, they were all you were thinking about. Their giggles and laughs repeat in your mind all the way home.

Pushing your keys into the lock, you quietly make your way inside, being mindful not to bring attention to yourself. To your sore, raw, saddened eyes.

There was no hiding from Miguel. He always knew when something was bothering you, especially now, and your face was all proof. He couldn’t see it, but he knew.

He looks over to you from the sofa, head twisted around as he watches you put your shoes away – never greeting him in your usual way. Never once uttering a word to him. 

He takes a moment, waiting for you to turn around, to return his ‘hey,’ but you never do. You only walk down the hall and into your bedroom, blanking his concerns.

Miguel follows after you, and knocks on the ajar door – a small collection of rhythmic taps asking to enter. 

“Cariño?” he stills, fist falling to his side. “Can I come in?” he asks, words gentle as he awaits your belated response.

You quickly sniffle, clearing your throat and wiping your eyes. “Yeah,” you reply, keeping your back to him as you pretend to busy yourself with the hangers in your closet.

He opens it slowly. His large, burly self lingering in the door frame as he watches you. “How was your day?” he questions, scoping you out. He was trying to warm you into opening up.

“Good,” you respond shortly, never once looking back at him – hiding your face. “Yours?”

He doesn’t reply, instead he makes his way over, tall frame almost towering over you from behind. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice warm.

You nod faintly, eyes welling with tears once more. That little question was all  that was needed to set you off again. You choke on a small sob and shake your head ‘no.’

He’s hesitant as he reaches for your shoulders. He doesn’t want to give you more reason to push him away.

But that small act of warmth was enough to turn around, to open up to him. You wrap your arms around his middle and bury your face into him – wetting his sweatshirt with your teary eyes.

He’s patient, he doesn’t talk yet. As much as he wants to know what's bothering you, he waits. Letting you speak up in your own time. For now he only places a large hand on the back of your head, palm warm and gentle as he strokes over your hair – caressing and calming you.

“I had a bad day,” you admit, pausing to sniffle. 

“What happened?” he hushes, holding your head carefully to him – protecting it.

“I was shopping,” you whisper, words muffling into him.

He backs away, peeling you from his chest to look at you – to hear you properly. He hums and nods, silently asking you to continue, his hand cupping your cheek as if to spur you on. 

“And uhm,” you snake your head, trying to rid those feelings. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, thumb grazing your cheek – pad flicking away the wetness from under your eyes. 

“I overheard these kids— these teenagers, and they,” your lip wobbles as you recall the memory. “They were just really nasty.”

“What did they say?” he asks, speaking carefully.

“I don’t know exactly,” you close your eyes and shrug. “Making fun of my size– talking about my stomach. I don’t know, I didn’t hear all of it.”

And that’s when all softness leaves his eyes, all warmth being replaced by something far more rigid. He was pissed.

“What do they look like?” he questions, words pointed but his touch still remained tender. “What store, mami?”

“I don’t remember,” you lie. You knew why he was asking, what he was implying by those questions. “It doesn’t matter.”

And as much as you wanted to see those kids get their asses handed to them, you just needed him here more. Needed to have him with you instead. 

He looks down at you, his gaze ever so slowly retreating to that same softness as before. Usually he would press you until he got the outcome he wanted, but that expression on your face told him all he needed to know – you didn’t need him to fight for you, but instead comfort you. So with a gentle understanding nod, he lets it go, thumb brushing over your sweet face as if to distract him from the protective frustrations he’s feeling.

“Don’t listen to what they say, querida,” he reassures, voice stern as if to reaffirm his words. “Kids are…”

“Dicks,” you laugh, choking on the last of your sob – residual snot creeping from your nose which you’re quick to wipe away. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, face lightening up as yours does. “Kids are dicks.”

One hand reaches down to your hip, large palm pawing at the squidge, the other staying on your cheek. “Hermosa,” he says, words soft as he looks down to your tummy between you. “Don’t change it.”

[makethemhoesmad]

with you

@azzibuckets was today’s victim

paige

—

when i was dragged out of my dorm to some bar i recognized but always forgot the name of, i wasn’t expecting to catch the end of a women’s basketball game on a tv screen just as i was ordering my first drink. i wasn’t expecting the losing team to be my school, either. uconn wasn’t normally prone to losing games. something that didn’t surprise me, for the first time that night, was the star player on the team, paige bueckers, choking back tears. most people wouldn’t spot it. but me, i did. i did because a few months ago, it was my arms she ran into, my shoulder she cried on, when this happened. i wonder who’s there for her now.

i didn’t realize that in an hour or so, id learn that the answer was no one at all.

~

later, still nursing my second drink, my thoughts clouded with the image of the girl i shouldn’t care about, it took me a moment to notice how the energy in the bar had shifted. i only looked up when someone brushed against my arm, jostling my drink and nearly spilling it. they turn around, and i recognize them immediately. i’d know azzi fudd’s smile anywhere. 

“oh my god, i’m actually so sorry, i can get you a new one?”

i shake my head, grinning at her.

“nah, it’s okay, i was gonna head out soon anyway.

she nods, and starts to walk away, before turning back and pointing a finger at me accusingly. 

“wait. you’re that girl, aren’t you? paige’s ex.” 

i nod, tentatively.

“don’t leave yet.” she states, rushing off into the crowd. it almost makes me want to walk out with my dignity, but some small part of me makes me stay. 

i stay in my seat long enough that im about to leave, when a flash of blonde hair sits her ass in the seat next to me and just tucks her face into me neck.

“paige, baby, i can’t do this again.” i say. but after those words leave my mouth, and i feel her sniff against my neck and snake her arms around my waist, i know that there’s no way im not doing it again.

“please, just come home with me. we don’t gotta do nothing, i just need someone to hold me. no, not someone. i need you.”

and that’s all it takes.

“alright.” 

she jolts us both out of our seats and takes my hand, dragging me to her car. i wave briefly to my roommate, who gives me a nod and a knowing grin. 

i know paige’s car, almost like it’s my own. she opens the passenger door and ushers me in, before shutting my door for me and going to her own side. she’s still doing that shit. she says nothing as she drives, just reaches for my hand, allowing for me to feel her grip get a little tighter, a little more desperate as she gets closer to her apartment. even when we get there, even once we’re inside, she doesn’t talk. only once we’ve entered her room, and she’s shut the door, does she finally say,

“i’m sorry.” 

i don’t answer. instead, i sit on her bed and open my arms, letting her fall into them and curl her face into my chest. i feel when the tears start to fall, but as i rub her back, i feel them stop. she sits up, looking at me with red eyes and a runny nose, then starts to unbutton my pants. before i mention her earlier words, she says,

“not doing anything, ma. just wanna be comfortable.” 

i let her continue, watching as she strips us both to our bras, her boxers, and my panties. she pulls her covers back, and despite being taller than me, she intertwines our legs and cuddles into my side, her arms wrapped around me like she’s scared i’m gonna run away if she lets go. i stroke her hair, whispering, “i saw the end of that game baby, it’s okay to be upset.”

“it’s not okay,” she say, “it’s only okay when i’m with you.”

~

when i wake up, still tangled in her, blonde hair splayed on my ribcage, i realize that im the one that’s there for her. and if i let her take my clothes off, show me that she never forgot my body, and then when i take hers off, show her the same, then, well, i wouldn’t rather be with anyone els

[actual-changeling]

No Nightingales

or: the one time they are actually on the same page

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner—we once again find ourselves in the final fifteen because I am far from done with them.

I already dove deep into the potential meaning of that phrase, you can find the meta post here, but regardless of what it stands for, the important part of today's post is their mutual recognition of it.

During their entire argument, they are on two different levels of understanding, and while Crowley is somewhat aware of that, Aziraphale very much isn't. But then, right at the end, Crowley invokes the nightingales, and suddenly they find themselves on the same plane of communication.

Let's start from the beginning. Well, not the beginning beginning, but rather the beginning of the end of their conversation.

Aziraphale is visibly upset, there's a strong undercurrent of genuine anger within the hurt, and he reverts back to an almost petulant expression when he tells Crowley "there's nothing more to say".

The movement he is doing with his mouth—maybe biting his cheeks from the looks of it—is the same one as at the end of their very first argument of the season. In the back of the bookshop with Jimbriel being the centre of their discussion, he eventually tells Crowley "but if you won't, you won't". When he sits down and throws his little temper tantrum, it's the same expression of 'I am kicking you out, go leave'.

In episode 1, Crowley does indeed leave, although we all know he comes back later that evening, but not this time. He knows Aziraphale, he knows exactly why he is doing what he is doing, why he is saying what he is saying, and while it broke his heart, it also means he is out of patience and energy.

For six thousand years, he has been trying to get Aziraphale to understand—and he simply refused to do the work necessary for that, preferring to stay in his cognitive dissonance framework of the world.

They are as done as they can be in that moment, and yet Crowley stays and tries one more thing: No nightingales.

"Listen, do you hear that?" is not a question Aziraphale expected, which is quite obvious in his annoyed reaction.

(side note: If someone I love were to talk to me the way Aziraphale responds to Crowley here I'd slap them and walk out. The absolute disrespect in his tone is appalling and Crowley deserves a reward for putting up with it.)

"I don't hear anything," and he isn't getting it just yet, still angry and petulant, still upset.

But then that changes. "That's the point. No nightingales," and Crowley is looking at him like it means something, begging him to listen, to understand—and Aziraphale DOES.

Look at the change in his expression, all that angry annoyance is gone and replaced by a sad dawning of understanding. If you compare this expression with his earlier one, the shift is as obvious as a blinking neon sign on a dark road.

Whatever the exact meaning of 'no nightingales' is, it is unambiguous and a fundamental part of how they communicate about their relationship with each other. Aziraphale has his oh moment, he is forced to confront the entire argument they just had and what it lead them to, what it destroyed.

That is what Crowley tells him, what hits Aziraphale hard enough to completely push him off-balance, to make him sad and visibly hurt instead of angry and upset. Michael 'microexpressions' Sheen strikes again.

Focus on the look in his eyes, the small, almost imperceptible shift, the shame that appears, and the tears it brings. He averts his gaze at first and then raises it back to Crowley because he understands now, he finally realised what Crowley has been trying to tell him the entire time.

No nightingales. It means we're done, we're over. It means I cannot come with you, I have to leave and safe myself. It means I love you, I know you love me, but it isn't enough.

It means we could have been us—but not anymore. Crowley sees him understand, and THAT is why he calls him an idiot; it's not about him returning to heaven or any of the other shit he said. It is about Aziraphale not listening to Crowley, of being so caught up in his bullshit he did not understand the simple message he was being told.

"You idiot. We could have been us."

I love you I love you I love you but now we are ruined and I blame you. If you had listened we could have been happy together, but look at where we ended up instead.

Aziraphale is still staring at him, but once those words leave Crowley's mouth, the tears begin to rise. Lips pressed together to keep himself from crying, the little wobble disturbing them, the pure, distilled pain etching itself into his face.

Shame. Guilt. Anger. Blaming Crowley, blaming himself. Aziraphale is confused, forced to make decisions without getting the space to breathe, to think, and he fell back into the easiest option—be a good angel and do what heaven says.

A part of him KNOWS all of that. It knows what he just did, what he ruined, how much they ended up hurting each other. So the tears come, and when he can no longer keep himself from crying, he turns away.

Crowley understandably combusts at that because really? Really? You dare to turn away from me after all this? I ripped myself open in front of you, and when I FINALLY manage to make you understand you turn your back on me?

He is desperate and hurt, heartbroken beyond repair, and there are six millennia of hopeless love spilling over—so he kisses him.

Hear me, listen to me, understand, I love you I love you I love you, I am losing you, I don't want to lose you, we're done. I know this won't change anything. I know what you will tell me, but I need to try. I need to make sure you know how much I love you.

I need you to understand what you are leaving behind.

There is no secret conversation happening, there's no trick, otherwise this moment of realisation would not exist.

But it does. It is right there for everyone to see.

After everything, this was probably the most painful moment for me, because you see him get it. You see him process, you see him understand, you can practically taste the chaos unfolding in his mind.

Aziraphale understands, but it is too late, and so he finishes what he started and leaves anyway.

[toastyrobos]

Never again (Rex X female reader one shot)

Word count: 2478

((You and Rex met early during the clone wars. Soon things turned romantic between the two of you. You were off world when order 66 happened. Panicking to find Rex, clone force 99 finds you, and having grown close to Echo, you went with them. When Rex unexpectedly shows up at Cid bar you nearly break at seeing him))

   "Twenty cases of those mantell mix things?! How long have those two been doing that?" Echo's loud voice carried as the four of us filed out of Cid's office into the narrow hall way.

   "I have surmised they have been partaking in this recreational activity for several rotations now". Tech configured, eyes never leaving his datapad.

You shrugged. "It's become a thing they do together after every mission".

Echo grumbled. "A costly one". He did have a point. Hunter wasn't too happy about it either from his narrowed brows and slightly clenched jaw. It was bad enough we owed Cid for basic rations, but now we owed her for this? You sighed.

Wrecker was just treating Omega to a harmless and delicious treat, but unfortunately that treat was racking up credits on your tab. That was exactly what you were trying to avoid.

Hunter let out a deep sigh. "I'll talk to them".

You knew how much he didn't enjoy seeing Omega upset, but maybe he could compromise with her. A way for her to still have the after mission snack while owing Cid a bit less. Frankly though, would you ever owe Cid less?

At this rate, it was doubtful.

Sounds of blaster fire and some sort of crash coming from the bar had your immediate attention. Hunter was the first of you to race ahead to the noises. You and Echo were not far behind, riding his heels. Reaching the bar all of you watched as the remaining species fled from the scene. Only individual left was a hooded figure, gripping on tightly to a singular blaster. The source of said blaster shots.

Something about his demeanor and cloaked face felt known to you. But you couldn't place it. Until your scanning gaze fell to his forearm armor.

White and and blue.

Your breathing paused. Unable to register what you were truly seeing.

It couldn't be.

It was not possible.

But it all became real when the hidden figure reached up and pulled back his hood. Revealing his familiar face to you.

You were stunned at the sight before you. At the person standing mere feet from you.

    "Rex". Hunter said surprised. He was just as shocked to see him here as the rest of you were.

You on the other hand forgot how to breath. Your eyes froze on his figure. Eyes roaming him up and down repeatedly to make sure that he was not a hallucination. A well of emotions came rushing into you. Like someone had punched you in the gut.

He was alive.

Rex was actually alive. Tears were beginning to swell in the corners of your eyes as you racked your brain for anything. But nothing.

Everything had left your head at just seeing him standing here. At the way he was looking at you. Surprised was not how he felt. No. If anything he was beyond thrilled to see you.

The second your name and where to find you left the sisters lips he plotted his course. He had to see you. Take you in his arms and never let you go. His chest rose and fell in rapidly succession at your presence.

It was as if everything and everyone around you two had faded into the backyard and you were the only two in existence. Just you and Rex. Your beating heart picked up speed the longer you stared at one another. The way he was looking at you. That smile painted across his lips, maker that smile. If not for the shock, you were certain your knees would buckle and give out from under you.

Even the way his essence was calling out to you. Beckoning you towards him.

You were hesitant, however.

Tech's earlier statements about the inhibitor chips coming to the front of your thoughts. Bracing yourself and taking a deep breath you pushed past Hunter.

Inch by inch you moved closer. Searching his face for proof that he wasn't here to hurt you, any of you. For any indication that he hadn't turned. All the while he continued to stare at you with that look that made your heart flutter and ache so desperately.

Being this close to him, even on edge, force, was he still himself. Still your Rex.

   "Starglow". The unshed tears filling your eyes, broke open. You instantly knew.

This was him.

Your Rex.

He wasn't going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. Because of this you leapt into his awaiting arms. Crashing your body against his and tightly securing your arms around his neck. His arms found your waist and pulled you close. Orange blossoms. Oh how he had missed that smell of yours. How he had missed the feel of you.

    "Rex". Your voice cracked as you spoke his name for the first time out loud, in several rotations. "Y-your here".

   "I am mesh'la". He choked back his own sob. "And maker I've missed you". So had you. So much that it had ached like a festering wound. Neither of you dared nor wanted to pull away, but you did, reluctantly so.

You grasped his face between your hands, studying it closely. His piercing brown eyes staring into your green ones. How the came alive underneath the dim gray and blue lights of the bar.

The texture of his dirty blonde stubble underneath your fingers. The scratchy nature of how it felt. The barely visuals scars etched into his skin. The way his lips framed his face so beautifully. You had missed him. And you didn't know just how much until he was mere inches from your face. From your lips.

Both of you were aware of it. How you both longed to touch one another. Close the distance the feel the warmth of the others lips. Rex's eyes were the ones to make the first move. Gliding over how lush they appeared. Parted just so. And with the simple action of your tongue running over them in anticipation that's all it took for him to break.

Lips collided with yours in a desperate plea. Fighting to feel, to touch the other after thinking one another dead. The mere sensation of his lips molding into yours sent your body into overdrive. You always lost yourself in his kiss. In his embrace. No one else made you feel as alive as Rex did.

That smile of his, you knew the one, that gave you butterflies. And when it would change into a smirk, may the force have mercy on you. You heart couldn't take it. His infectious laughter that would echo off the walls of whatever environment he was in. Usually caused by one of his fellow 501st members telling a dreadful joke. Who would have thought you'd lose all of that in the blink of an eye. Only for it turn up weeks later. Safe and sound.

Thankful you were that those memories didn't have to become mournful ones. Instead they could continue to exist as they were. Ones that held promises for the future.

It had been a grueling time not knowing. Waiting and waiting for any signs, but now it was over.

You Practically slumped into his chest as he just held you close to his heart. The steady beating of it the only sound that could kept you grounded in this instant. The cold surface of his armored platting on your cheek was a welcomed sensation.

You needed this. To feel his heartbeat. To know that he was real. That he was right here, in this moment. Nearly losing him almost destroyed you.

You let out a shaky breath. "I though I lost you, Rex". Tears slid down your cheeks. "I though my —you—" you couldn't even finish that sentence. Rex knowing the pain you went through, as it was the same pain he experienced. He tightened his arms around you, nestling his head in the crock of your neck.

Feeling his arms around you, like a warm protective blanket you started to relax. The muscles in your body becoming less tense, Knowing that he was safe. That he was right in front of you.

His own muscles started to calm. Like a fleeting flame. He didn't have to worry or fret over searching for you anymore. He had found you.

As crazy as it sounded he would have gotten on his knees and physically thanked the force, to the stars and back again that he had you back.

He let out his own unsteady exhale. "I know".

He did not want to pull away from you, but like you he had the overwhelming urge to see your face. See all the marks and impressions he hadn't seen it what felt like a lifetime.

Needing something to anchor him, he sought out the one thing that could. You.

It was always you.

Bringing you closer, he touched his forehead to yours. Kissing you was so very intimate, but this. This was too. At least between the two of you.

"I'm here now, riduuar and I don't plan on going anywhere". He promised.

You shook your head, confused. "I don't understand. How—wh-what happened?"

Thousands of questions twisted around inside your head. How did this all happen? Why did it happen? Could no one have seen what had transpired? It was encompassing. Paired with Rex bring here. By the maker you were finally feeling the affects of todays mission catching up with you.

"I'll explain everything". He promised, seeing how exhausted you were becoming. "But right now, I just want to hold you". You simple nodded.

You wanted answers and you were certain that he'd tell you everything later, but right now his request, you could and would fulfill-it. As easy as breathing.

"Thank the f-force your safe". You whispered against his chest plate.

He ran his gloved fingers through your hair. Committing every moment he'd done this before to memory.

Kissing you was absolutely his favorite thing, without a doubt. But this. This was a close second. Something about it soothed him. Made any tense or stressful situation better.

Too engrossed in one another aura's, basking in it, you had forgotten that you had an audience. An audience that was rendered speechless by the affections exchanged between you and the now ex captain of the 501st Battalion.

All expect the ex arc trooper standing off to the side. Who had known the full extent and lengths of Rex's and yours relationship. He was present there that day. One of only a few who were witnesses to the pledge you both proclaimed.

It was undeniable, the love you two shared with each other. No doubt in Echo's mind that the both of you were meant to be together.

Wrecker was the first of the group to speak. "W-what...did I miss something?!"

Tech was the next one to speak, offering up an explanation, "Technically no. By my calculations Rex and Y/N have been in a committed romantic relationship for a standard 368 days".

His much larger brother simply stared at him in confusion.

"A standard year, Wrecker". Echo quickly explained. Understanding he formed an 'O' shape with his lips.

You and Rex both shook your heads. "Longer". Tech blinked. "It's actually been 2 standard years since we told one another how we felt". You locked eyes with Rex, your continued smile everything to him in that moment.

The Captain nodded. "It's been one since we said I do". That had their full attention.

Hunter took a step towards you. "Y-your married?"

You nodded. "Yes. Off record though. Only a few were able to know". You gestured to the former arc trooper. "Echo being one of them".

The Sergeant turned his eyes to the newest member of the group. "You were there?"

"Me and a few others were the only ones". He replied to which Hunter nodded. Satisfied. Knowing the full extent of the reprimand the Captain would receive if the Council found out the truth. That he was married to a princess.

The consequences for such an act could have cost him his position. Or worse. His life. Thus a secret their relationship needed to be. Unfortunately.

"Well then uhh congratulations to you both". Hunter replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

You nodded in acknowledgment to Hunter. When you thought you had lost Rex, he was the one to step up and comfort you. Reassuring you that you'd be okay. Even if in that moment you didn't feel as though you would.

All of them really made you feel welcomed. After all they were the ones who stumbled across you. Ushering you to come with them. Saying that they could protect you and guarantee your safety. You accepted. Thank the maker you had. If not, then maybe you would have never seen Rex again. And that left a bitter taste on your tongue.

"Thank you". You said at the same time as Rex slipped his hand into yours.

Love was a concept that Rex never thought was possible for him. He never dreamed of having it because it was instilled in him early on that clones were bred with one singular purpose. To fight for the Galactic Army of the Republic. Never had the thought nor idea of finding someone, in that regard, crossed his mind.

Until you came into his life. Changing everything for the better.

"Your here". You whispered into him. You were still in disbelief. Tears streaming down your cheeks like an endless river. Rex lifted his gloved fingers to swipe away your tears, that affectionate grin warming your body. "Your really here".

He was real, yet you still couldn't wrap your head around it, but that wasn't important. All that mattered was him. What this meant for you. For the life you promised to build together that day overlooking the lake when you swore an oath through vows. When you both said 'I do'.

"I am". He replied again. This time the power in which he uttered it, caused your body to shake. The weight those two words held. What they signified.

"I love you". Was your quick response. Even if Rex knew it deep down in his soul, to hear it again from your lips made him so beyond happy.

Another kiss found it's way to your lips. "I love you too".

Smiling, you pressed in closer to his chest. Wanting to be close to him for as long as physically possible. Rex was your everything. Your best friend. Your lifeline. To him, you were his entire world. All roads led you back to one another.

Determined he was that the force weld it so. And as far as the Captain was certain he wouldn't allow you to be parted from him ever again. Not while there was still blood flowing through his veins.

[mxqdii]

angst to fluff matt sturniolo but he's stubborn about talking it out with reader so it lasts long to the point where reader gets frustrated yk? maybe this is too specific 😭 also if u do this, do it however!!

did you mean it? - m.s

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt accidentally says "i love you" and just pretends it never happened, leaving the reader sad and conflicted.

warning(s): angst, confession, crying? (idk help 😭)

"this is why i fell in love with you" he says and i freeze

he loves me?

i look at him, blank expression on my face

(which is definitely not how my mind is reacting)

his face turns bright red

"you-" i start but get interrupted

"i didn't mean it like that" he says and i feel my heart drop

"oh, okay.." i say, almost in a whisper

my heart just shattered into a million pieces. matt, my boyfriend, the love of my life, doesn’t mean it like that.

we continue making dinner, the awkward silence filling the room.

suddenly nick and chris come downstairs, and for some reason i'm actually thankful for it.

they start talking to us but my mind is elsewhere, maybe it's my fault. i mean, i didn't say it back fast enough which could've caused matt to second guess, or he just didn't mean it, or-

"y/n you there?" nick says and i snap out of my thoughts

"yeah! yeah im here.." i say with a dry tone and a short smile

i'm too upset to be cheerful right now.

we finish making dinner and finish eating, which is when me and matt decide to watch a movie.

throughout the film, i noticed how matt started acting like nothing happend

i hate it.

i feel like we should at least talk about it, or like.. mention it again?

maybe it wasn't that big of a deal

maybe i should let it go

or maybe, matt is being stubborn.

"matt" i say, abruptly

"yes love?" he says and i feel shivers go down my spine

do i really wanna ruin this? now?

i just am so in my head i cannot leave things like that.

"i- uh.." my words get caught in my throat and i feel like i can't get out what i wanna say

maybe it's for the better.

"i'm gonna go, home- yeah." i say

"oh, okay." he answered

i quickly grab my keys and jacket, saying bye to nick and chris, then giving matt a quick hug and immediately leaving.

fuck fuck fuck, what do i even do.

i get home and feel a sense of lonliness, emptiness fill me.

i can't help but burst into tears

i messed up

i don't know why my mind immediately went to it being my fault, i guess that's just my instinct, matt was actually the one who noticed i always assumed things were my fault, so he would always reassure me thing's weren't.

after that whole situation earlier though, things are different this time.

the thought of matt makes me cry harder.

minutes pass, then hours, and suddenly its been a day.

it's currently 10pm, the last time i heard from matt was yesterday, when i left his house actually..

i've been crying all day just watching TV

i am a mess.

suddenly i get a knock on the door

i wipe my tears, running to the bathroom to make sure my nose and eyes arent red anymore (which thankfully arent)

i look fine, i look like i've been fine.

perfect.

i run back to the door, quickly opening it, knowing i've kept whoever waiting long enough

matt.

i go speechless, like, i literally don't have the words, and even if i did, i'm not sure what i'd say.

"you're a mess" he says, breaking the silence

"i'm not a mess" i exclaim and he looks down with a laugh

"i can tell you've been crying" he adds on, confirming his 'i'm a mess' comment.

fuck, this boy knows me too well.

i open the door wider, gesturing him to come in.

"so.. why are you here.." i ask and he turns around to face me

"because i'm stubborn and you're frustrated." he replies, causing me to look at him in confusion

"i've never lied to you, until last night. i do love you y/n, i should've said it but i just- i couldn't. and then i got scared and tried to ignore it, causing me to be distant. but every second we didn't talk i was thinking about it- i was thinking about you."

all this information is too much for my slow brain to process

"so you- you meant it? you love me?" i repeat and he steps closer to me

"yes y/n, i love you" he states and i smile

he puts his hands on my waist and kisses me

we pull away, still inches away from eachother

"i love you too matt."

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

[bruisedboys]

hello!!! i saw that you write for bradley and i’m OVER THE MOON RN. could i possibly request a hurt/comfort fic with a shy!plus size! reader combo? maybe a first date scenario where bradley is super late to said date and reader thinks he stood her up or asked her out as a joke so she goes home super embarrassed like “why did i think i could be w him in the first place??” bradley is devastated because he’s liked this girl for so long and he just blew it but he’s able to get her back in the end 🤩 please and thank you!!

hello angel!! thank u so so much for the sweet request, I hope it’s okay! mwah

bradley bradshaw x shy!fem!plus-size!reader cw for body insecurities

You stare at yourself in the mirror, miserable. You haven’t cried yet, but the way your stomach looks in this top might be your breaking point. You’d actually felt pretty, earlier in the evening, all dolled up in your new clothes. But then you’d waited an agonising 45 minutes at the restaurant for Bradley to show up, only to realise he wasn’t coming and you’d made a complete fool of yourself. Now you just feel ugly and so, so embarrassed.

Why would he even want me? You think, glaring at your body in the mirror. You lift your top and squeeze a handful of your soft stomach cruelly, half wishing you could rip it clean off. He probably asked you as a joke, you suppose. And you were stupid enough to buy into it.

A single, hot tear rolls down the slope of your cheek.

You’re wiping at it angrily when there’s a loud, sharp knock on your door. You flinch. It’s enough to scare you out of your miserable state, at least. You freeze, thinking maybe if you ignore it, whoever it is will leave you alone.

“Y/N?”

Bradley? You recognise his voice immediately and your heart climbs to your throat. What is he doing here? Did he not just stand you up? Is he here to antagonise you further? You creep out into the entryway, where Bradley’s voice is clearer. He bangs on the door again.

“Y/N, honey,” he’s saying. He sounds stressed and a little desperate. “I know you probably hate me right now, but please would you come to the door? I really need to talk to you.”

You feel as though an invisible force is pulling you towards the door, towards Bradley. You don’t know why on earth you do it, but you lift a hand and open the door.

Bradley stands on your doorstep, in jeans and a nice linen shirt that doesn’t have an ugly Hawaiian print, for once. His aviators hang from the collar. He’s still strikingly handsome even though you’re upset with him.

“Y/N,” he breathes out. He lowers his fist from where he’d been rapping on your poor door. “Hey. Hi.”

You shift on your socked feet and grip the door handle like it’s your lifeline. “Hello.”

Bradley gives you a look akin to devastation. “Listen, honey. I’m so, so sorry about our date. I got caught up at work, and then my car wouldn’t start, so I had to— hey, are you crying?”

Unfortunately, you are. Why now? You think to yourself. Warm, salty tears spill over your lower lashes against your will. You scrub at your cheeks harshly. Bradley frowns at you.

“Hey. Hey, don’t.” He steps forward and takes your wrists in his hands. He encourages your hands from your face and replaces them with his own, thumbs swiping at your hot tears. He’s a hundred times more gentle than you had been.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I feel like such a dick … I’ve had a crush on you for ages and ages and now I’ve made you cry.” He pulls you into a hug and gives a self deprecating sort of laugh, rubbing your back in quick, smooth sweeps. “What kind of loser am I?”

You sniffle. His hug is overwhelmingly warm. You feel a bit dumbfounded, and wonder if you’ve heard him right.

“You—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat and pull back out of his arms. “You have a crush on me?”

Bradley gives you a look of confusion, his hands on your shoulders. “Well, yeah, honey,” he says. His brings his thumb up to swipe at a tear collecting in the corner of your eye. “That’s why I asked you out.”

You blink at him. So … it wasn’t a joke? He didn’t do it to make fun of you? “I— are you serious?”

Bradley frowns at you. His eyebrows pinch in the middle. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Well, that’s the big question, isn’t it? You draw a shaky breath. “I don’t know, I guess because I’m not— I mean, I’m not really like other girls, Brad.”

Bradley continues to look even more confused than before. “So?” He asks, incredulous. “That’s why I like you so much, babe.”

What? This is not how you thought this would go. Why isn’t he getting it?

“But— but I’m big,” you say, feeling a bit sick. You don’t like to call yourself big, you know it doesn’t matter, but it’s the only way to make Bradley understand. “I don’t have a nice body. And. And I’m too quiet. I thought maybe you didn’t turn up because …”

You trail off. Because I’m fat. Because I’m shy. Because you’re lean and handsome and I’m nowhere near to being in your league. All things you’ve been thinking since he didn’t show up to your date. You don’t say them out loud, but they hang in the air between you and Bradley like burning hot stars anyway.

Bradley stares at you hard. You feel the heat of your confession on your neck, your cheeks.

“Honey,” he says, serious and sweet simultaneously. “Sweet girl. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”

You duck your head. The way he’s looking at you is too much. If he keeps this up you’ll be a puddle in seconds.

“It’s not your fault,” you say quietly. It’s not. Really, it’s your own for assuming the worst of him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bradley says firmly. “I upset you, didn’t I? I’m really sorry.” He slides his hand under your chin. You know you have more pudge there than another girl would. And yet, you find you don’t mind his touch as much as you feared you would. “Would you look at me?”

Shy, you tilt your head up with the help of his gentle hand until you’re meeting his eyes. You’re struck, suddenly, by how close he is.

Bradley smiles. He’s so, so handsome you almost feel sick by it.

“I really like you,” he says, earnest. “So much. I don’t mind that your body is different. Everyone’s body is different, isn’t it? It’s not a bad thing, and I happen to really like how you look. You’re beautiful exactly the way you are.”

You blink rapidly. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. You don’t think you’ve ever been spoken to in such an honest tone, with such lovely words. It sets you aflame from the inside out. You’re melting, a lovesick puddle of a girl.

“I don’t mind that you’re quiet, either,” he says, and somehow he’s just getting lovelier by the second, and you can’t believe you ever thought he had ill intentions when he’s being so achingly kind to you. “I think I talk quite enough for the both of us, don’t you?”

You laugh, breathless. You’re hyper aware of his hand on your face, of his chest where it’s inches from yours. Normally you’d feel self conscious with another person so close to you, your insecurities on display in full. With Bradley, and the way he’s looking at you, soft brown eyes and a kind smile, you feel special. A flower blooms in your chest, rearing towards Bradley like he’s the sun.

“I’m so sorry for ruining our first date,” Bradley says in a low voice. He brings a hand to your waist. You feel his heat through your clothes. He’s touching you like you’re something precious, like porcelain or starlight. “Do you think you could give me another chance?”

Well, when he asks like that, you know you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

[mythicmanuscripts]

omg ok also, based on your recent aegon imagine, what about soft, teary, spiraling jace when he thinks you're mad at him? maybe something similar where he really gets into his own head about it? i feel like jace is already so prone to anxiety that this would be a breaking point for him...maybe he might be on the verge of a panic attack or breakdown and you'd even have to put him into subspace after just to get him to calm down and breathe a little?? thank you!!

Of course!! In case you guys couldnt already tell, I LOVE writing sweet soft angsty stuff,

While this answer isnt explicit, I will hide it under a cut anyway because it's very clearly sub!Jace.

So firstly, I think Jace has always been prone to anxiety? Even though he's a man, he absolutely has a crippling case of eldest daughter syndrome. The poor lad can't remember the last time he didnt have someone to look after or someone's expectations to meet.

He's also very used to handling all that pressure and anxiety on his own. When you marry, you make sure to check up on him constantly and ensure he's alright. You learn very quickly that Jace won't actually come to you about his anxiety and stress until he reaches his breaking point. Because of this, you always make sure to ask him if he's alright once a week or so.

You always try to make sure that you have some time alone with him where you can ask him if there's anything he wants to talk to you about or vent about. Often he will actually take you up on the offer, especially because you always praise him once he finishes talking and tell him you're very proud of him for opening up.

However, sometimes even these precautions arent enough.

Jace can spiral very easily and get completely lost in his own head, and these spirals can happen quickly, especially if he's already not feeling the best.

Maybe this time, Jace could feel how he was starting to get too stressed and anxious and so he goes to you. Except when he goes to you, you're in the middle of something? Maybe you're reading or making arrangements with servants, whatever it doesn't really matter. When Jace asks if he can talk with you, you just tell him to wait a moment because you want to finish this first. When you look up again, he's gone. So you just assume whatever Jace wanted wasnt very important and make a note to yourself to ask him about it that night.

You don't see Jace for the rest of the day, which isnt unusual considering how busy and you both are with the war effort. But in reality, Jace wasnt doing his duties, he was just sitting on his bed staring at the wall and spiralling. He begins to wonder if he's relying on you too much, if he's managed to scare you off. He's so confused, because he knows you've told him to come to you for help, but when he did you blew him off?

You find him in the bedroom that night when you finally retire for the evening. You can immediately see something is very wrong because he's just sitting on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest and not moving at all. When you say his name, he looks up at you and quickly tries to compose himself, stumbling over his words as he tries to lie and say he's fine and doesn't need anything from you because he doesn't want to make you even more annoyed with him.

You just walk to him and ask him why he would ever think you were upset with him, and he mumbles something about having asked you earlier to hep him. Your heart sinks, because you realise you did this to him. You realise he must have come to you because he genuinely needed support and you turned him down.

He starts to spiral even more now that you're actually there and watching him. Tears well up in his eyes and he closes them, trying to take slow deep breathes but it's a losing battle. When you see this, you know speaking to him is useless. He's far too worked up.

So you just sit down on the bed with him and pull him into your chest. You rub his back and just let him cry it out and calm down at his own pace. Jace is someone who just needs to have a cry every now and then. Trying to reassure him and get him to stop crying doesn't help at all, he just needs to let the emotions out before he can think clearly again.

Even when he stops crying, he's still unsettled? He keeps on squirming and whining, hiding in you neck every time you ask him what's wrong. You bring your hand up to his hair, stopping to cup the back of his neck for a moment and he relaxes against you. So you give the back of his neck a little squeeze, like a mother dog carrying her puppies, and he melts into you. Feeling you have that grip on him lets him calm quicker.

When he looks up eventually, you can see he's somewhere between being half asleep and being in subspace. So you ask him if he wants to kneel for you, and almost instantly he's sliding down the bed and onto the floor. You have to grab a pillow quickly and make him stand for a moment until you can put the pillow down to protect his knees.

He's whiny and unsettled the whole time you're having him stand. He wants to kneel!! The moment you deem it comfortable enough, he's kneeling. You sit on the side of the bed, playing his hair and letting him suck on your fingers. He stays there until you can see he's about to fall aslee p, then you drag him up the bed and he's asleep before you've even changed into pyjamas.