#I just realized how much this is (this is now in the morning)

[kiwriteswords]

Unveiled

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This has been on my to-write list forever...hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: Mild Injury, Mentions of Field Work, Secretive Behavior, Slight Jealousy, Light Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Vulnerability, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage, Canon-Typical Themes.

Sypnosis: You and Aaron Hotchner have always been experts at keeping work and personal life separate—so much so that the team doesn’t even know you’re together, let alone married. But secrets can only stay hidden for so long, especially when small details start catching everyone’s attention.

The BAU bullpen buzzes with the usual hum of activity. Cases to close, profiles to refine, and endless paperwork to finish. You settle into your desk with a practiced air of nonchalance, tugging the sleeve of your blazer slightly to cover the delicate wedding band now gracing your finger.

The slim band--simple, not flashy, was perfect for both your personality and the line of work you were in. You could count the times on one hand how often JJ had to get her ring fixed or cleaned from the damage being in the field caused. You did not need diamonds or an extravagant engagement or wedding. You had everything and more with the man who had the matching band upstairs. 

You glance across the bullpen, up to Aaron’s office. He’s buried in a stack of reports, his expression unreadable, as always. His left hand is occupied with a red pen, and the thin gold band is barely visible but there nonetheless.

Your lips twitch into a subtle smile as you recall the whirlwind of the weekend: the drive to a secluded courthouse, the soft vows spoken just for each other, the quiet, private moment that bound you and Aaron together in a way only you two could understand--with Jack present, of course. Eloping had been a mutual decision, spurred on by years of hiding, countless near-misses at being caught, and the realization that you were done living for anyone but each other.

Ever the lawyer Aaron was and ever the practical woman you were, you knew marriage was essentially just paperwork. Personally, it did mean a lot more to the both of you in terms of commitment, so that’s why you both decided to do it on a whim, to begin with, but there wasn’t a need for the white dress or all the bells and whistles that you both found overkill. The slim gold bands were enough. The vows were enough. The love you shared was more than enough.

Now, the fun part began.

You turn back to your desk, shuffling through files with purpose as the team begins trickling in. The usual morning energy hums around you, but it’s impossible to ignore the slight thrill of knowing what you’re both hiding—and knowing it won’t be hidden for much longer.

“Hey, Y/N!” Penelope’s voice cuts through the air, cheerful as ever. “Doesn’t this day feel extra special for some reason? Like the world’s just radiating good vibes?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe it’s just you, Penelope. You’re the good vibes.”

She beams, clearly pleased with the answer, before skipping off to annoy Morgan. You catch Aaron’s eye for the briefest second, and the corner of his mouth twitches—a rare, subtle sign of amusement.

The team trickles in gradually. Rossi strolls past your desk, sharp as ever, with his coffee in hand. His sharp eyes flicker to your hand, and he slows just slightly, one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Nice ring, kid,” he says, voice casual but curious. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone serious enough settle down.”

Your breath hitches for a fraction of a second, but you quickly recover, offering him an easy shrug. “I like to keep my private life... private.”

Rossi had been the hardest over the years to keep at bay. Somehow, it became second nature to be so…secluded in your personal life. It wasn’t that you or Aaron were not sharing with the team, but you never felt the reason to shake things up. You, with your budding career, and him, with his reputation as a leader, why change that? 

Rossi hums thoughtfully, clearly filing that information away for later. You glance over at Aaron again, his focus still trained on the file in front of him. His poker face is maddeningly perfect, but you know he’s listening intently.

It isn’t too long after that a new case brings you to the round table room. You can’t help but feel that there is still an unspoken buzz in the air. Rossi’s comment made you jumpier than you’d like. Not that you’re hiding anything, but the idea of change…makes you uneasy. 

Aaron sits to your right, perfectly composed as always, flipping through the latest case files. His left hand holds a pen, the thin gold band on his ring finger catching the light with every movement. You glance at it, a quiet rush of warmth filling your chest. Your husband. It’s still a surreal thought. You could feel the faintest hint of amusement radiating from him, even if his face betrayed nothing. The quiet thrill of your secret filled the air between you.

You refocus, nodding at something JJ says about an update from the field office, but you can feel Rossi’s eyes on you. He’s seated across the table, his sharp gaze catching every detail. A slow, knowing smile creeps across his face, but he says nothing—yet.

“Anyway,” JJ continues, looking up from her notes, “we’ll need to coordinate with local law enforcement to finalize those interviews.” She glances over, and her eyes snag on your hand mid-gesture. Her words falter for a split second before she quickly recovers. “Morgan, you’ll take the lead.”

Morgan nods, clearly only half-listening. His focus has also shifted—to Aaron, more specifically. His brow furrows as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Hotch, you got something new going on?” His tone is casual, but his grin betrays his curiosity. “That’s one hell of an accessory you’re sporting.”

Aaron doesn’t miss a beat, his voice calm and measured. “I wasn’t aware my ring warranted commentary, Morgan.”

Morgan smirks, glancing at Rossi. “Oh, come on, man. You walk in here wearing a wedding band out of nowhere? You can’t expect us not to say something.”

Rossi leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. “And here I thought I was the only one paying attention,” he says, his voice rich with amusement. “Seems our unit chief had quite the weekend.”

The rest of the team snaps to attention. JJ’s head jerks toward Aaron, her eyes widening as she looks between him and you. Penelope, sitting at the far end of the table, gasps audibly.

“Wait,” Penelope exclaims, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re married now? When did this happen? Who’s the lucky lady? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“I’m not the only one,” Rossi interjects smoothly, his gaze now fixed on you. “Looks like Y/N had a busy weekend, too.” He nods toward your left hand.

You glance at Aaron, a silent exchange passing between you. His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles—so brief it’s almost imperceptible. But you catch it.

Penelope’s sharp intake of breath breaks your focus. “Wait a second,” she says, leaning forward, her gaze darting between you and Aaron. “Y/N, is that... a wedding ring?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady as you respond. “What about it?”

Morgan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking. “Hold up,” he says, nodding toward Aaron’s hand again. 

All eyes turn toward Aaron now. He calmly finishes jotting a note before closing the folder in front of him. “Is this relevant to the case?” he asks, his tone perfectly neutral.

Rossi tilts his head, his sharp gaze bouncing between you and Aaron. His lips curl into a knowing smile. “Interesting,” he says slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Very interesting.”

JJ’s brow furrows as she glances between the two of you. Her eyes widen slightly as realization begins to dawn. “No,” she says softly, more to herself than anyone else. Then louder, “Wait a second—are you two—?”

You glance at Aaron, and he gives you the slightest nod. With a small sigh, you lean back in your chair and let the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk. “You really don’t know?” you ask, your voice laced with amusement.

Aaron follows up, his tone carrying a faint edge of dry humor. “I thought you were better profilers than that.”

The room goes completely silent as the pieces click into place. Emily gasps, pointing between you and Aaron. “No. No way. You two? Are you telling me you’re married to each other?”

Morgan bursts out laughing, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You’re telling me you’ve been dating this whole time, and none of us knew? I don’t believe it. You two are way too good at this.”

Penelope’s jaw drops. “What?! Oh my God, I feel so betrayed! How could you keep this from me? I should’ve been your bridesmaid—or at least in the loop!”

Aaron raises a hand, his calm authority cutting through the chaos in the room. “We made the decision to keep our relationship private to maintain professionalism,” he begins, his tone firm but warm. His eyes sweep the room, landing briefly on each team member before continuing. “This team works best when there are no distractions, and we both agreed that our relationship couldn’t interfere with that.”

He pauses, glancing at you. There’s a moment of silent understanding between you before you speak up, your voice steady but lighter than his. “It wasn’t about hiding, exactly. It was about making sure we stayed focused on the work that matters. But,” you add with a small, wry smile, “we eventually realized we didn’t need to keep it a secret anymore.”

Aaron picks up where you leave off, his tone softening slightly. “Especially now that we’re married,” he says, letting the weight of the words settle over the room. “We didn’t make this decision lightly, and we both value the integrity of this team above all else. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t.”

The room falls quiet again, the team absorbing the revelation. You can see the wheels turning in their minds as they piece together the years of subtle interactions, quiet glances, and the seamless way you and Aaron have worked together all this time.

JJ breaks the silence first, her expression shifting from shock to a warm smile. “Well,” she says softly, “congratulations. You both deserve to be happy.”

Morgan leans forward, his grin widening. “Alright, I’ll give you two credit—this is the best-kept secret I’ve seen in a long time. But man, Hotch, you’ve got some explaining to do. Married? Without us knowing? I’m hurt.”

Rossi chuckles, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen it sooner,” he says, his tone amused but approving. “Still, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two make sense.”

Reid almost looks relieved, “I thought I was the only one who didn’t pick up on things like this.” 

Penelope is the last to recover, her hands flying to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! This is so romantic!” She gestures wildly between you and Aaron. “Secret agents in love, sneaking off to get married—it’s like a spy movie! Please tell me there are pictures. I need pictures. And cake! Why isn’t there cake?”

You laugh, finally letting yourself relax a little as you glance at Aaron. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile—one the others might miss, but you recognize instantly. Beneath the table, his pinky brushes against yours, a subtle reminder that you’re in this together.

“Alright,” Aaron says, his commanding tone bringing the room back into focus. “We still have work to do, and I expect everyone to stay focused on the case.”

Morgan leans back in his chair, still grinning. “Yeah, yeah, boss. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Rossi smirks. “Don’t worry, Derek. Something tells me there’s more to this story, and we’ll get the details eventually.”

You exchange a knowing glance with Aaron as the team begins to settle down, still buzzing with excitement. It’s out in the open now—no more hiding, no more secrets. Just you, Aaron, and the life you’ve quietly built together finally shared with the people who matter most.

The case wraps up after a grueling few days. The unsub is in custody, and while the tension of the investigation still lingers, the mood on the jet back home is noticeably lighter. The team is scattered around the cabin—Morgan and Rossi are in their usual seats, discussing the finer points of profiling techniques, while Spencer is engrossed in a book.

You find yourself seated with JJ and Emily at the small table near the galley. Emily is flipping through a magazine, and JJ is scrolling on her phone, but their attention shifts to you when you pull out your phone and casually unlock it.

“You know,” you say, leaning back in your chair with a small grin, “since you all feel so left out, I figured I’d show you some photos from the elopement.”

Emily’s eyes snap up from her magazine, and JJ’s face lights up with interest. “Finally!” Emily exclaims, leaning in. “I thought you were going to make us beg.”

JJ nudges your arm. “I’ve been dying to see these. Penelope’s already planning a post-wedding celebration for you two.”

You chuckle and swipe to the photo album. The first image you show is a candid one—a shot of you and Aaron outside the courthouse, his hand resting gently on your back, both of you mid-laugh. JJ lets out a soft “Aww,” and Emily whistles low under her breath.

“Look at you two,” Emily says, her tone teasing but fond. “Who knew Hotch could look so... human?”

You laugh, swiping to the next picture, a close-up of your intertwined hands with your wedding bands gleaming in the sunlight. “He’s full of surprises,” you quip.

As you share a few more photos, some with Jack, some Jack actually took of you and Aaron.

Aaron walks by, a cup of coffee in hand. He pauses when he notices the three of you huddled around your phone. “Are you showing them the photos?” he asks, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“Of course,” you reply, looking up at him with a playful grin. “They demanded proof.”

Aaron hums thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leans slightly over the table. “You should show them the photo from last year. The one from the Amalfi Coast.” There’s an amused glint in Aaron’s eye’s that makes you want to roll your own, but you satisfy everyone anyway.

JJ blinks, looking between the two of you. “Wait. The Amalfi Coast? Together?”

Emily narrows her eyes, clearly piecing something together. “Hold on. Didn’t you both take time off around the same time last summer?”

Before you can answer, Reid speaks up from his seat across the cabin, his voice laced with disbelief. “You mean the trip to Italy? I remember you both mentioned visiting Italy, but I never connected the dots that you were there together.”

Morgan, catching the tail end of the conversation, leans over the back of his seat. “Hold up—that’s what you were doing last year? You two were off in Italy, sipping wine and living the good life, and we had no idea?”

Rossi chuckles from across the cabin, shaking his head. “It’s impressive, really. I mean, a courthouse wedding is one thing, but hiding a vacation together? That’s next-level stealth.”

Emily laughs, gesturing toward your phone. “Alright, show us this Amalfi Coast picture. I need to see the evidence.”

With a shake of your head, you scroll back to the album from the trip. You find the photo Aaron mentioned—a picture of the two of you standing on a sunlit terrace overlooking the ocean, the breeze catching your hair while Aaron stands beside you, looking uncharacteristically relaxed in a linen shirt. You hand the phone over, and JJ and Emily lean in closer.

“This is so unfair,” JJ says, shaking her head with a smile. “You two look like you walked out of a travel magazine.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe we didn’t put this together sooner,” Emily adds, smirking. “I mean, Hotch in a linen shirt? That should’ve been the giveaway.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. “I told you we were better at keeping secrets than they gave us credit for.”

You grin, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Well, now you all know. Mystery solved.”

Reid looks up from his book, still shaking his head. “I feel like I should’ve noticed. The behavioral cues were there...”

Morgan snorts. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. They had us all fooled.”

JJ hands your phone back, smiling warmly. “Well, for the record, I’m glad we know now. You two really are perfect together.”

Aaron catches your eye from where he’s standing, his expression soft but steady. It’s a look that speaks volumes, and you know you’ll both carry this moment—this quiet joy of finally being yourselves with your team—for a long time.

As the jet hums softly beneath you, you settle into the warmth of the conversation, knowing that the life you’ve built with Aaron is now shared with the people who matter most.

When the jet touches down, and the team unloads into the bullpen, you barely have time to gather your things before Penelope corners you and Aaron. She’s been dropping comments all case long—about needing details, demanding photos, and lamenting her exclusion from what she’s now referring to as The Most Romantic Secret Ever Kept—but this time, there’s no escape.

“Alright, you two!” Penelope exclaims, her hands on her hips as she plants herself in front of you both. Her eyes sparkle with determination. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited through an entire case, and now you owe me. Spill it. All of it. When, where, how? I need the full story.”

Aaron glances at you, his lips twitching in faint amusement. “I told you this would happen,” he murmurs under his breath.

You chuckle softly and look at Penelope. “Fine,” you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “We’ll tell you—briefly.”

Penelope’s expression brightens instantly. “Finally!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Aaron crosses his arms, his authoritative posture intact but his tone softer than usual. “It started a few years ago,” he begins, glancing at you. “Not long after you joined the team.”

You nod, picking up the thread. “It wasn’t planned. We just... clicked. We kept things professional at first, but over time, it became harder to ignore. Eventually, we decided it was worth exploring, but we agreed to keep it private.”

Penelope’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Years? You mean to tell me you’ve been dating for years, and I had no idea?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly. “We were careful,” he says simply. “We didn’t want our relationship to interfere with the team dynamic or the work we do.”

“And we didn’t think anyone would benefit from knowing,” you add. “It was easier to keep it between us.”

“But how?” Penelope presses, leaning closer. “I mean, we’re profilers! How did you manage to keep it under wraps?”

You exchange a knowing look with Aaron before answering. “We’ve always been good at separating our personal and professional lives,” you say. “At work, we focused on the cases. Outside of work... we had each other.”

Aaron nods. “We were deliberate about our interactions here, and we made sure not to let anything slip.”

Penelope looks genuinely impressed, though she’s clearly not done grilling you. “So, no one ever suspected? Not even Rossi?”

You laugh. “Oh, Rossi definitely had his suspicions,” you admit. “But he never said anything outright.”

Aaron smirks faintly. “I think he enjoyed watching the rest of you try to figure it out.”

Penelope groans dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. “I can’t believe this. You two are like... spy-level secretive. I don’t know whether to be mad at you or impressed.”

“Be impressed,” you say with a grin. “It’s less stressful.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at both of you, then sighs. “Fine. But only because you’re ridiculously adorable together. And because I’m still planning a post-wedding party. You’re not getting out of that.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, Penelope finally relents, though she shoots you both one last look that clearly says she’s not done asking questions. As she flounces off to her office, you exhale a soft laugh, turning to Aaron.

“Well,” you say lightly, “that went better than I expected.”

Aaron’s gaze softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice low. “She’ll be back.”

You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you head toward your offices. It’s out in the open now—your story, your love, your life together. And though you’ve enjoyed the secrecy, there’s something freeing about finally being able to share it with your team.

After a long day and an even longer week, the bullpen finally clears out. The soft hum of computers and the faint buzz of the overhead lights are the only sounds left as you and Aaron prepare to leave. You gather your things, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he approaches with his jacket draped over his arm.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You nod, falling into step beside him as the two of you head toward the elevator. There’s an unspoken ease between you; the weight of secrecy finally lifted. When the elevator doors close, Aaron glances at you, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.

“You know,” he says, his tone laced with quiet humor, “we don’t have to stagger our exits anymore.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No more waiting ten minutes so no one sees us leaving together?”

“Or arriving,” he adds. “No more separate cars or pretending to run into each other in the parking lot. We’ve been doing that for years. I think it’s become muscle memory.”

The thought makes you smile as the elevator dings, and you step out into the cool night air. You walk together to the car, and the rhythmic click of your shoes is the only sound. When you slide into the passenger seat, and Aaron starts the engine, the hum of the car fills the silence.

As he pulls onto the road, you glance over at him, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face. “Do you ever think about all the close calls?” you ask, your voice quiet but teasing.

Aaron’s lips twitch in amusement. “All the time. Like that day you got hurt in the field.”

You know exactly which day he means. It’s burned into your memory as much as his. “You mean when I dislocated my shoulder chasing that suspect?”

He nods, his tone softening. “I remember standing over you, trying to keep it together while the EMTs worked. I wanted to pick you up and carry you to the ambulance myself, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stay professional and keep my voice steady.”

You smile faintly, your heart tightening at the memory. “I remember how calm you sounded, even though I could see it in your eyes. You hated every second of it.”

Aaron glances at you briefly, his eyes filled with something deeper. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Morgan even asked me later why I seemed so shaken. I had to play it off as just another day in the field.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Well, you were convincing enough. I think I was more worried about you slipping than about my shoulder.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his focus on the road. “That wasn’t the only close call. Remember Kansas City? The hotel?”

“Oh God,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. “I thought for sure Morgan would figure it out. He knocked on my door right after you left.”

Aaron smirks, glancing at you briefly. “What did you tell him?”

“I said I was up late working on the profile,” you reply, grinning. “Which wasn’t a lie, technically. I just left out the part where you were with me.”

Aaron shakes his head, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. “How about all the times we shared a room and no one noticed?”

You laugh, sinking back into your seat. “That was a miracle. Every single time. Can you imagine if anyone went looking for you in your empty room?” 

“Or walked past at the wrong moment,” Aaron adds, his voice tinged with humor. “I can’t believe we managed to pull that off.”

You grin at him, your tone teasing. “We probably wasted so much of the Bureau’s money on extra rooms we didn’t need.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “I think we’ve earned it, considering the hours we’ve put in.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Still, we were playing with fire. Like that time Rossi knocked on your door in Denver. I thought for sure he’d notice something.”

Aaron chuckles, his tone more amused now. “Rossi always noticed. He just didn’t say anything.”

“Probably because he enjoyed watching everyone else flounder,” you reply with a grin. “He was always a little too smug.”

The car falls into a comfortable silence as the memories wash over you both—the near-misses, the stolen moments, the countless times you had to act like nothing more than colleagues. Now, with the secrecy behind you, the memories feel more like a badge of honor than a burden.

Aaron pulls into the driveway, turning off the engine before glancing at you. His expression is soft, his voice quieter now. “No more sneaking around,” he says. “No more separate cars or extra rooms.”

You smile, reaching for his hand. “Just us.”

The two of you walk inside, your home warm and inviting as you settle in for the night. The conversation drifts back to the little things you had to do to keep your relationship under wraps—the cover stories, the excuses, the times you almost slipped. But the laughter and warmth you share now make it all worth it.

As the night deepens, you both revel in the freedom of no longer having to hide. It’s just you and Aaron, building the life you’ve always wanted… with Jack—together, out in the open, and exactly as it should be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

[chibinasuu]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji (separately) X Reader, and it's of them already in a relationship, and kind of based on the trend on TikTok, Reader calls them "Buddy" to see their reaction?

hi!! sorry this took so long, i just returned from a trip and didn’t have much time to write at all last week. thanks for the request, this was so fun to write! this was my first time writing short drabbles like this, but i hope i captured the boys’ reactions well :)

“Buddy” | Monster Trio x Reader

Pairings: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x Reader (separate)  Tags: sfw, fluff, established relationship, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

Sanji

The lid to the peanut butter jar was exceptionally tight that morning. 

You glanced at Sanji, who was trying and failing to prevent his lips from turning up into a mischievous smirk. You rolled your eyes as a small huff escaped your mouth.

Did he seriously think you wouldn’t catch on to his little schemes? You had long been aware that he’d sometimes purposefully tighten the lids to all of the jars in the kitchen just so you would ask him for help. 

After struggling for a good few seconds, you finally relented and passed the jar to him, “Open this for me, please?”

Sanji beamed at you, “Why, of course, dearest! With pleasure.” 

He popped the lid open with ease and handed the jar back to you.

You took it gratefully but couldn’t resist the temptation of getting back at him in some way. So, as you walked away, you patted his shoulder and said lightly, “Thanks, buddy!”

You instantly regretted it when you saw Sanji’s crestfallen expression, “...Buddy?”

He looked like he was close to tears as he searched your face, “A-are you mad at me? Is this about the jars? I promise I won't do it aga–” 

His small voice broke you and you immediately rushed back to him, “Oh sweetheart, no, I’m just joking!” 

You planted a kiss on his cheek, “I’m sorry, honey.” You moved your lips to his other cheek, “Baby.” To his forehead, “Darling.”

He let out a relieved sigh at the return of your usual repertoire of nicknames, before squishing your cheeks in between his hands, “Don’t ever call me buddy again. Please.” 

You chuckled, “Yes, my love.” 

He nodded, satisfied at your answer, before leaning in and melding his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Zoro

“Hey, can you pass me the towel?” 

You were sitting on the bench of the crow’s nest, quietly reading your book as Zoro spent hours after hours working out. This was the first instance that he had spoken to you in all that time, which was no surprise, really. You knew that he took his workout very seriously.

But, you couldn’t deny that it still annoyed you to no end that he had not glanced even once in your direction this whole time, despite this being one of the rare moments that the two of you could spend alone onboard this rowdy ship. 

“Sure.” You reached for the towel beside you and tossed it in his direction, “Here you go, buddy!”

“Thank–” Zoro started to reply before he registered your words. He looked at you, his face contorted in what you could only describe as disgust, “Ha?!”

You smirked at how readily he took your bait, watching him closely as he wiped off his sweat and stalked toward you. He placed his hands on the bench on either side of you, caging you in as he bent forward to bring his face close to yours, “What did you just call me?”

“What, you don't like my new nickname for you, buddy?” You taunted, fully realizing that this would piss him off even further.

“Oh, am I your buddy, now?” He pressed his body even closer to yours, an intense look in his eyes as he said, “Well, would a buddy do this, then?” 

Your heart danced in victory when his lips finally captured yours in a hungry kiss, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down onto the bench.

Maybe you should rile him up more often.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Luffy

Luffy was sitting at his usual spot at the figurehead when you approached him. 

The conversation you had with Nami earlier still plagued your mind. She had told you that men hated to be called “buddy” by their significant other, but you were pretty sure that Luffy wouldn’t mind at all. He had liked all of the nicknames you gave him so far, no matter how ridiculous they were. She laughed and disagreed, telling you that Luffy was a man after all, and there was no way he would not be affected in some way. 

So, that’s how you ended up climbing the stairs to the figurehead, on your way to test Nami’s theory. 

“Hey, buddy!” You called out to Luffy.

His head tilted in confusion as he turned to face you, before replying uncertainly, “Hey to you too… buddy.”

Well, how the table had turned. You didn’t expect him to call you "buddy” back. And you didn’t like it. At all. 

“Ugh.” You groaned as you sat down beside him, “Forget that. Please don’t call me buddy.” 

He pouted, “Hey, you said it first!” 

You chuckled and caressed his cheek, your thumb lightly grazing over his scar, “My bad, turned out I don’t like it when you called me that.” 

“Well, I don’t like it either.” He shrugged as he admitted, “It made me feel like I was just your friend. And I’m not… right?” 

So Nami was right. It did affect him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry." You smiled, somehow filled with a strange satisfaction, as you pulled him in for a quick kiss, "You're definitely more than just my buddy, Lu.”

You kept his face close to yours as you said, “I promise I won’t call you buddy ever again if you promise not to call me buddy too.”

Luffy laughed before closing the gap between you again, “Deal!”

[leighsartworks216]

Sleepy Kitty

Sylus x gn!Reader

What if you became the cat and also got that sleepy cat feature with the service?? Think about it

Warnings: fluff, silly, cat ears and tail, cuddling, panic, some sort of a relationship going on, Xavier cameo

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

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Your heart can’t sit still, torn between aching and frantically racing in a frenzied panic. Every time you look into the mirror, you start freaking out. You had to call in sick this morning with a poor excuse, cancel all your plans for today and tomorrow, and try to figure out a solution to your problem:

You are a cat.

Well, you have the ears and tail, at least. At first, you can’t believe it. But sure enough, they’re real. Real and not disappearing.

You tug desperately at the fluffy ears, yanking on them, praying they’ll just disappear in a poof of smoke like it never happened. Instead, all you get is pain that has you scrunching up your face as you keep pulling on them, begging for this nightmare to end.

“Oh, sweetie.”

You yelp, diving into the blankets of your bed. “Go away! Don’t look at me!” You hide in the warm darkness, keeping the blankets held down tight over your head so they can’t be pulled off.

Sylus’s sigh is muffled as he crosses from your bedroom’s doorway to your bed. The mattress sinks down with his weight. “This is why you cancelled our plans today?”

You stubbornly don’t answer.

“Sweetie, ignoring me isn’t going to make me leave faster. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine, just go away,” you insist.

“You really need to get better at lying.”

He grabs your tail as it flicks out from under the blanket. You have to release the blankets to grab it back from him, and he uses that opportunity to uncover you entirely. The jig is up, but you refuse to turn and face him. Your new cat ears lay flat on your head. Even in your hold, your tail is flicking with irritation.

He reaches out to touch the cute ears you despise so much, but you swat his hand away at the first brush. He can’t help his amusement - you really are a kitten.

“Stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

“Of course not,” he agrees, but the sincerity is obscured by his chuckle petering out. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened?”

You heave a long sigh. It hitches at the end as reality starts to crash down on you once more. “I don’t know. I mean, I just woke up this morning and,” you release your tail in favor of grabbing the fluffy tips of the cat ears, drawing them down on your head painfully, “these were here. And now they won’t go away!”

“Stop that,” he chastises you. He takes your hands, freeing the ears from your cruelty. His long fingers intertwine with yours as he wraps his arms around you, making you hug yourself at the same time, and drawing you into his lap. “We’ll figure it out.”

You give in, slowly relaxing back into his broad chest and the warmth he radiates. Your tail taps rhythmically against his leg as it swishes back and forth over your bedsheets.“What if we don’t? What if I’m stuck like this forever?”

He kisses your head. Your ears stand up and brush his cheeks. He tries not to chuckle at how plainly your emotions have been laid bare. “We can worry about that later, after we’ve exhausted all possibilities. Deal?”

“... Deal.”

-

It is now mid-day. The sun is shining bright, the rest of the day is still to come, and you are sleepy. The kind of sleepy that makes you feel heavy and sluggish; that makes a big blanket sound like utter heaven.

Sylus is tired, too. His exhaustion, however, comes from staying up far past his usual bedtime. He’s much better at hiding it. Meanwhile, you’re yawning every other minute, rubbing your eyes, leaning against him whenever you’re at a standstill. For those last several minutes, he’s been leading you back to his car. You don’t realize what’s going on until he’s already driving.

“Mm, where are we going?” You frown out of the passenger side window. It doesn’t take long before your head is resting against the glass, cushioned by the beanie from your closet meant to hide the cat ears.

“Back to your place.”

“What for?”

He shoots you an amused grin. “It’s bedtime, kitten. We both need a nap.”

“Huh? No, wait, I’m fine!” You sit up straighter, crossing your arms and staring determinedly out the windshield. “I’m up, see? We can keep going.”

“Fine. I’ll take a nap and you can watch.”

The drive is quiet. The expensive car blocks out most of the noise outside. The radio is off, but the AC hums as it blows warm air. Sylus glances over frequently, watching as you slowly, slowly sink deeper into the heated leather seat. Your head rests awkwardly on your shoulder as you blearily glare at the passing buildings. The next time he looks over, your eyes are closed.

He pulls into the parking lot with ease. You don’t show any signs of waking up as he kills the ignition. Honestly, he’s glad for it. The entire time you’ve been trying to piece together the mystery, you kept working yourself up into a panic. Any more of that, you would make yourself sick from stress.

He rounds the car and carefully opens your door. In between unbuckling you and lifting you into his arms, he can’t help admiring you. The beanie is crooked, there’s bags under your eyes, and he’s never seen anything more beautiful than you right now.

The apartment building is very nice, especially with your finances. He nudges the elevator call button with his elbow and waits for it to come down. The silver doors open to reveal a blonde man in a white hoodie. Instead of getting out, the man keeps the doors from closing, watching him with sharp blue eyes as he steps in.

“What happened to them?”

Sylus puts on an easygoing grin. “They aren’t feeling well today. Don’t worry, they’re in good hands.” He nudges the button for your floor and quirks a brow at the man. “This not your stop?”

The man lets go of the doors, standing opposite from Sylus with his arms crossed and staring him down. “I’m just making sure they get home okay.”

With the slightest of shrugs, Sylus looks straight ahead, seemingly ignoring the man as the doors close and the elevator starts to move. The tension in the small space is heavy; it extends to every corner and between the little numbered buttons. Neither of them do anything to dissipate it.

When the door opens again, it’s like the pressure it released. The air in the hall completely overwhelms the distrust in the tiny elevator. It doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s easier to breathe out here than in there.

The blonde man follows behind as Sylus carries you to your apartment door. He thinks you’ve told him about this coworker of yours before; you go out on missions together often. Funny - of all the times you’ve mentioned him, you never said anything about him behaving like this.

Sylus slides your legs further up his arm to free his hand. The man stares at the knob as he places his thumb on the lock. When it beeps and lights up green, he seems to relax a little, so slight that it’s only due to Sylus’s lifestyle that he was able to pick it out.

He pushes open the door and turns back to the man. “Will that be all?”

Blue eyes stare down appraisingly. Sylus can’t shake the way it unsettles him deeply, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and his body preparing to fight if the need arises. Some background checks into this guy are now a necessity with how close he works and lives to you.

But the man nods. “Tell them I hope they feel better soon.”

“Of course.”

And just like that, the man is heading back to the elevator with a lazy yawn. Sylus shuts the door. He sighs heavily, looking down at your peaceful face. “You’re lucky I had the liberty of putting my print in your system,” he says. “I don’t think he’d have reacted well if I teleported in here.”

Your apartment is exactly how you both left it this morning. He follows the familiar path to your bedroom, bedsheets rumpled and covered in clothes from when you tried finding an outfit that could hide your tail. He gestures vaguely with his hand. Red and black tendrils of energy gather the clothes and stack them elsewhere to deal with later. Another tendril pulls down the blankets for him.

Being careful not to disturb you, he lays you down on your bed. You look soft, delicate. Completely vulnerable, and yet sleeping undisturbed even as he looms over you. He pulls the blankets up over your body and slides the hat off your head. Your fluffy cat ears shift and twitch slightly from being exposed to the open air once more, before they relax.

He stands up to go to the couch, but something holds onto his arm. When he looks, your tail has slipped from under the covers and the clothing you used to hide it, just to hold onto him. It was soft. It really would only take the slightest effort to slip free from its grasp, but when he started to step away, you started to frown. With an amused chuckle, he opens the blankets again and nudges you aside, before climbing into the bed.

You reposition yourself to use his chest as your pillow, arms wrapped around him and legs tangling with his. Your tail slips from his arm to curl around his waist.

And then you start purring. He smiles. Tentatively, he pets your ear. It twitches at first, before relaxing into his touch. You nuzzle your face over his heart.

“Sleep tight, kitten,” he whispers. His hand continues to lazily pet you as he closes his eyes. Your purrs act like a soothing balm to his soul as sleep slowly takes hold.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[capquinn]

Hey I love your Dad!Quinn writings so much! They’re so cute and fluffy! Maybe you can do one about mom’s bump popping up one morning and Quinn is like mesmerized, realizes that a baby is coming and his life is going to change. But he’s so happy. Only if you want to write this. Have fun in NYC!

The hoodie slipped from his hands, forgotten, as Quinn froze in the doorway, caught in the quiet spell of the moment. His breath stilled, his gaze fixed on you — on the reflection of you in the mirror, framed by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. You were standing there, one hand resting on the curve of your belly, your fingers brushing over it in a way that was both casual and deliberate.

But it wasn’t the same curve he’d kissed goodnight the evening before. This was new, different.

His eyes traced the line of your profile, lingering on the now unmistakable swell of your stomach. It wasn’t just a gentle hint anymore, not the subtle softness he’d grown accustomed to seeing. It was undeniable, defined. A bump.

His bump. His baby.

Quinn’s arms hung at his sides, his hoodie now pooled in the chair behind him as his brain worked to catch up with his eyes. For a long beat, he just stared, unmoving, as the weight of it hit him all at once. His chest tightened, his heart thrumming in a rhythm he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t panic, not fear, but bigger — something that was overwhelming in its tenderness. Awe, maybe. Or reverence. A sense of this is real that felt too massive for his chest to hold.

He tilted his head slightly, as if looking from a different angle might somehow soften the impact, but it didn’t. If anything, it deepened it.

His gaze dropped to your hand, the way your palm smoothed over the firm swell like it was second nature now. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, slow and shaky, his hands flexing at his sides. There was no mistaking it anymore — this was real. Tangible. The tiny life that had been nothing but whispers and plans and grainy black-and-white ultrasound images was suddenly here, making its presence known.

You glanced up in the mirror, your eyes catching his reflection, and Quinn’s heart twisted. You looked at him like you always did — a soft affection that grounded him — but now there was something else. Something unspoken, something shared. Something that said, can you believe this?

He stepped closer without even realising, the movement automatic, like gravity was pulling him to you. His hand reached out instinctively, tentative at first, brushing against the curve of your belly before settling there fully. His palm was warm, steady, fingers spreading slightly as if to take it all in. The bump was firm, more defined than he’d expected, and the simple touch made everything feel sharper, clearer.

“This is new,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion, almost as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile intimacy of the moment.

“It wasn’t like this yesterday,” you replied softly, your voice carrying the same quiet awe that was written all over your face.

“No,” he agreed, his thumb sweeping in a slow arc along the edge of your belly. “It wasn’t.”

For the first time, it wasn’t just an abstract thought in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just appointments or plans or future names whispered in the dark. It was right here, under his hand. The tiny, growing life you’d made together, tucked safely between the two of you.

His gaze flicked back up to yours, his eyes soft and bright with something unspoken. Pride, maybe, and then his lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile.

“That’s… really our baby,” he said, the words tumbling out like a confession, as though saying them aloud might help him fully believe it.

“Really our baby,” you echoed, and the way you said it, so soft but so certain, nearly unraveled him.

Quinn’s thumb brushed over your skin again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if tethering himself in the moment. He didn’t let go, didn’t even think about moving. His fingers flexed gently against you, holding on as though the world might tip if he didn’t anchor himself to this — to you.

He exhaled quietly, his voice dropping even lower as his gaze flicked back to your bump.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he murmurs. “To you. To seeing you like this.” His voice caught slightly, and his eyes softened even further as they roamed the swell of your stomach, his hands cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you — off the way your body had changed, the way it was carrying something that was a part of both of you. It hit him all at once, an overwhelming wave of awe that nearly stole his breath. The guys had joked about this, their faces lighting up in a way that always seemed a little exaggerated when they said there was nothing more attractive than seeing your partner pregnant with your child. He’d brushed it off at the time, but standing here now, he finally understood. You were stunning, and it wasn’t just how you looked — it was what it meant. What you were doing.

He kept those thoughts to himself, too raw and vulnerable to say aloud, but they lingered, stirring in the quiet space between you.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he said instead, the words escaping before he could stop them. He didn’t need to elaborate — everything he felt was in the way he looked at you, his eyes soft, his expression completely open.

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, a warmth rising in your chest that had nothing to do with hormones. He saw it immediately — the way your eyes glossed just slightly, your lips pressing together as if to hold back an overflow of emotion. You stared down at the curve of your belly, your hand resting over his, grounding yourself in the moment.

Quinn’s heart clenched at the sight. He hadn’t meant to make you cry, but the way your reaction softened your entire expression made his chest ache in the best way. His fingers flexed gently against your stomach again, his thumb brushing over your skin in a slow, steady rhythm, his way of silently telling you that he was right here.

Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say something but weren’t quite ready, and he stayed quiet, giving you the space to find the words.

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” you whispered finally, your voice carrying a quiet awe that made his breath catch.

He paused for just a moment, watching the way your gaze lingered on your belly, before answering.

“It’s real,” he said, almost to himself, as if to convince the last part of him that still couldn’t quite believe it. His fingers pressed a little more firmly, cradling the swell of your stomach with the same care he might handle something sacred. “It’s us. Right here.”

He could see the ripple of emotion in your expression, the way your chest rose in a deep, steadying breath. The way your hand tightened over his for just a second, like you needed him to hold you in the moment.

When your eyes finally met his, the look you gave him stopped him in his tracks. It was full of wonder, gratitude, and a love so profound it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t do anything but hope that you saw everything reflected back in his gaze: the wonder, the love, the quiet, unshakable resolve that whatever came next, he’d be there — every step, every breath. For you. For the tiny life between you. For all of it.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[sturnlsstuff]

PANCAKES | chris sturniolo

in which you made your boyfriend pancakes, later finding out he doesn't like them.

fluff, no warnings, based on this request !!

you've never felt more stupid in your life than when you found out from the new triplets' Q&A video, that Chris doesn't like pancakes. which was ridiculous, you made him chocolate chip pancakes three weeks ago while visiting him and he didn't say a word.

you just found out about it while watching their video on your flight to los angeles for your second visit. wondering how you didn't notice it, but how were you supposed to, when he ate the pancakes with a smile on his face and gave you a kiss on the forehead, telling you how yummy it was? but you still felt bad, you've been in a long distance relationship with chris for almost two months now, thinking that you already knew him better than that, but clearly not.

having spent the entire day at the triplets' place with chris, it was finally evening and you both got hungry. you were now in the kitchen wondering what you wanted to eat, when you decided to see if he would lie to you again.

"i can make the chocolate chip pancakes if you want... y'know the ones i made the last time i visited you," you say, leaning against the counter and watching him closely, seeing how he pauses for a second, but then turns to you with a smile on his face. now you knew it was a fake smile.

"sounds so good, ma, but maybe we could eat some pizza?" he swallows, trying to sound casual and turns back to you, clearly avoiding your gaze and he grabs a can of pepsi from the fridge. "s'late anyway, maybe you could do the pancakes tomorrow morning, hm?"

narrowing your eyes, this time you can clearly see that he doesn't like these fucking pancakes. makes you wonder how you could be so stupid, not to notice what your own boyfriend likes or dislikes.

"i kinda feel like eating pancakes though," you say only to see if he's gonna finally say the truth or not. chris looks back at you, the wheels in his head racing, trying to think of any reason not to make these pancakes. he felt bad really, but he just loved you so much, he was ready to eat something he doesn't like again so as not to make you upset.

"a'ight, fine." he nods, taking a sip of his soda before putting it down and already starting to look for ingredients. "whatever y'want, baby."

the little smile he gave you, the way he was ready to actually do it, makes your heart race. it was a little thing, but the fact he'd actually force himself to eat something he dislikes and not say a thing, was making you feel bad for him and at the same time love him even more.

"chris." you say bluntly, walking closer and taking the bowl from his hands onto the counter, causing his attention come back to you. "why are you doing this?"

"what?" a frown appears between his eyebrows as he looks down at you, his blue eyes intense, "'cause we're hungry? and you wan' pancakes—"

"no, not that." you sigh and confront him, "i mean, you don't even like pancakes, so why do you wanna make them with me anyway?"

"huh?" he immediately starts denying it, "that's not... what are ya talkin' about--?"

"i watched the new video." you confess, seeing how his expressions changes from confusion to understanding and then guilt. seeing him want to interrupt, you shake your head and continue, "why didn't you tell me that you don't like pancakes? i made them for you and you just ate them, not saying a simple word—"

"it's not..."

"...you could just tell me, i would make something else! it was enough to say that you're not a big fan of them and it's fine, i would immediately..." chris tries to cut off your yap, but you just keep going, "... and then i'm looking on tiktok, realizing even your own fans know, but not me when i'm supposed to be your girlfriend, which means i don't know you at all, which means i'm a terrible girlfriend and i feel stupid and i'm awful and—"

the feeling of his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips pressing against yours, shut you up. you hum in response as he kisses you, your hands fall to either side of your body. a few seconds later he pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes and raising his eyebrows, "you done?"

you just pout, still feeling awful, while chris continues cupping your cheeks. "call y'self a bad girlfriend again and i'll fight you," he says sarcastically, but then adds more seriously, "s'just pancakes. and yours were really fuckin' delish, so stop callin' y'self awful."

"but you don't like pancakes..."

"yeah, i don't, but..."

"so why didn't you just tell me?!"

chris sighs, now feeling guilty that you found out the way you did, causing you to feel bad of yourself. "what, was i supposed to break your heart and not eat the food y'made f'me, when you were so excited?"

"chris, i'm a big girl, i would survive it." you roll your eyes, "i wouldn't wanna force you to eat something you don't like. especially lying to me that it was good—"

"hey." he cuts you off, "relax. i didn't lie, it was in fact really yummy."

giving him a glare, you mutter, "now you're just saying that to make me feel better..."

"no." he shakes his head, "m'sayin' that 'cause it's true. i don't like pancakes, but you did a great job. end of story."

he steps back, while you keep pouting. you wanted to believe him, but he probably wouldn't even tell you if the pancakes were awful, so as not to upset you.

chris sees that you're still unsure, so he speaks up again, before taking a sip of his pepsi, "listen, baby, i'd tell ya, yeah? at some point... but that was your first visit here, you took time to make me breakfast 'n you were so happy. that's why i couldn't spit it out." he glares at you, "but i mean it when i say it was good. if i had to eat it again, i'd chose you to make 'em."

your face finally lights up with a little smile, which causes chris to grin as well, "there she is..."

"next time i wanna know from you if you don't like something. not from the internet. got it?" trying to look scary, you point your finger at him, but it only causes chris to chuckle.

"yes, ma'am."

"now gimme some eggs, i'll make waffles..." then you pause, giving him a suspicious stare, "you do like waffles?"

"yes. oh god, yes i do." his eyes sparkle when he opens the fridge and starts giving you the ingredients you need. "if y'make me some waffles, i'll actually take you out on a date tomorrow."

"perfect."

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess

[archangeldyke-all]

I love all of the isha, jinx, reader and sev found family so much.

Was wondering about a reader who had a shaky relationship with their family. A couple of ideas. Maybe they are so worried about hurting isha, or they don't really know much about parenting and family. Maybe they are just hesitant. Or they don't talk too much either, but connect with isha.

I have no clue, would love anything, love your writing so much!! Totally fine if not I hope you have an awesome day either way :))

- 🌱

eeeee gonna combine this!!

thinking abt jinx isha and sev snuggling up to reader when she’s sad :(

men and minors dni

there are days, for both you and sevika, where the abundance of love from your new found family overwhelm you.

neither of you had the best childhoods. neither of you are close with your families now. and sometimes realizing that this is what a family is supposed to feel like kinda paralyzes you.

it's a horrible combination of grief and horror for your younger self, and for jinx and isha before they had you, and a gratefulness that you've managed to escape the cycles of abuse that have haunted your bloodlines.

it happens to sevika most often. jinx will spill a glass at dinner and you'll all calmly clean it up, giggling and teasing jinx for her butterfingers-- and sevika will get choked up with how easy it is. how little yelling, bleeding and crying had to occur for the problem to be solved.

she usually has to take a minute to herself, sometimes dragging you with her to the bedroom to bury her face against your neck and breathe in your scent as she calms down.

but after a few minutes, it washes over her, and she's back to her normal self.

it's different for you. it isn't little moments that trigger it, it just creeps up out of nowhere. you'll wake up one morning with the weight of the world pinning you to the bed, and you just won't be able to get up.

today's one of those days.

you don't know why it's happening now, but it's happening. how could you face a world that would treat a child so horribly that she can't talk? a world where doctors will fuse teenage girls' blood with shimmer, permanently altering her senses and instincts? a world where 'peacemakers' flood the streets with toxic gas?

you can't. at least not today.

"baby, it's almost eleven." sevika whispers, gently pulling the blankets away from your body. "'re you sick?" she asks, feeling your forehead tenderly.

her touch makes you weepy. you take a shaky breath. "i just--" you cut yourself off with a squeaky sob. sevika's face falls, and she quickly scrambles to join you in bed, scooping you into her arms. "i just can't do it today, sev." you say, falling apart against her chest.

sevika lets you cling to her, gently stroking your back and kissing your head as you cry against her. "that's alright, love." she whispers. "i'll do it all for you today."

this only makes you cry harder.

"sevika, where'd you go?! we're about to race rainbow road, c'mon i wanna watch isha kick your ass aga-- oh, shit." jinx cuts herself off, her eyes wide as she blinks at the pair of you. "y-you alright, sweetcheeks?" she asks, a worried little frown on her lips.

before you can answer, little footsteps come thumping toward your room. hurry up, big mama! isha signs as she comes sprinting in the room. her eyes get wide and worried, and she tugs jinx's hand pointing at you with concern. ms. baby, what's wrong? isha asks.

"she's just... having a rough day, kids." sevika explains, rubbing your back for you. a few tears leak out of your eyes at her gentle voice and her careful words. "y'know those days where you just need to be sad?"

jinx seems to understand, her eyes softening in sympathy and one of her arms reaching out to start playing with isha's hair. "yeah, i've had a few of those." she chuckles wryly. "just gotta cry in bed until tomorrow." jinx shrugs. "sorry, sweetcheeks."

you smile weakly at jinx. "'s alright. i'll be up and at 'em again soon."

isha's still worried, though. ms. baby, do you need a kiss? she signs.

you burst into a fresh round of tears, and jinx chuckles, just a little. "t-that would be great, isha." you sob. isha scrambles into bed beside you and sevika, carefully holding your face between her tiny hands as she kisses your forehead. it's surprising just how much her little kiss makes you feel better. you chuckle a little. "thanks kiddo."

"do you wanna come lay on the couch? watch us play mario? you can still cry and sleep, but at least we'll be there to keep you company." sevika offers.

you smile, then frown. "that sounds amazing, baby, but i don't think i have the energy to get out of bed." you admit. sevika scoffs and gets out of bed. your heart sinks, and you choke on a sob. "i-i know it's pathetic, 'm sor--"

"baby, shut the fuck up." sevika says, ripping the blankets off of you. you gasp and shiver, and sevika leans down and easily hauls you up into her arms. you gasp and squeal, and jinx and isha burst into laughter and screams. "jinx, will you grab a few pillows for her?" sevika asks as she starts carrying you into the living room. jinx trails behind you, your pillows and a blanket in her arms.

isha disappears into her bedroom, only to return as sevika's settling you down on the couch, placing her favorite bunny plushy in your arms. bunny will make you feel better. she signs. you start to cry again, nodding and thanking her shakily, cradling the stuffy to your chest.

isha and jinx settle down on the floor in front of the couch, and sevika covers you up with blankets before pulling your legs into her lap and sitting beside you. "you gonna be able to sleep with us screaming at each other?" she asks, grabbing her controller. you chuckle and nod.

"no different from any other nap i take." you tease. sevika grins and you sigh happily, your heart throbbing with appreciation and love.

you fall asleep after sevika falls off the track for the third time. when you wake back up, isha and jinx have piled on top of you and sevika, all three of them snoring as they enjoy an afternoon nap.

despite the heaviness in your chest and your tired eyes trying to drag you back to sleep, you take a moment to remember the moment before you close your eyes--knowing that despite all the horrible associations you've had with family in your past; from now on this is what family will be.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan

[pit-and-the-pen]

Please go to sleep.

Summary: your mate forces you to stop working and take some time for yourself.

Wc: 1k (short and sweet)

Written for this request: Hey, Could you do prompt no.94 for Azriel?❤️✨

Also hi, I’m alive. Just getting my butt kicked by a very busy work schedule right now. Sorry this is so short but work is slowing down again so I’ll actually have more time to write. Also I wrote this on my phone.

I sat up at the desk, the words in front of me swimming as I forced my eyes to focus on them. Hands still stained blue from the last pot of ink I had clumsily knocked over with my sleeve. I just had to get this recipe written down. The healing potion that neutralized faebane, the one thing I had been working on for months. I needed to get this test run written down because it was the closest I had been to figuring it out. I knew it was right in my grasp and I could sleep once I was done.

At the thought of sleep, I could feel my eyes growing heavier. My traitorous body demanded I crawl into my soft bed that would smell like my mate. I shook my head again, like I could displace the need. It worked for a second, a deep breath left me as I struggled to recall just how much bittergreen I added to this batch.

The creek of the door had my eyes flickering up slowly before I pulled my focus back to the book in front of me. I fought back a sigh as shadows swirled around my wrists attempting to pull me up.

“You should be in bed, sweetheart.” Azriel’s voice carried from the door.

“I will in a little bit.” Was all I responded with.

“It’s three in the morning. You woke up early to start working and I know you didn’t take a break to eat dinner.” He huffed, his shadows wrapping tighter around my arms to drive home is irritation. A wave of shock went through me at his words. Had I really been at this for that long?

“I didn’t realize…”

“You’re half asleep right now. This will still be here in the morning.” I didn’t hear him walk behind me. His hand ran lightly down my neck and over my shoulders and I couldn’t fight the urge to lean back into him. His hand went to my hair, strong fingers rubbing the tension around my temples. The careful attention made my sleepy eyes burn as I tried to blink them open.

“Az, I need to-“

“No. You need to sleep. I’ll help you with this tomorrow. After you’ve gotten enough sleep.”

I didn’t want to fight with him over this. It was like he could feel his victory. “Plus, you’re not going to be able to read that anyways.” He looked over my head at the book in front of me. I followed his eyes and saw the illegible chicken scratch my handwriting had devolved into. I fought the urge to cry as I noticed the hours of hard work I had wasted.

Azriel held out his hand and with a defeated groan, I took it. When I stood up my legs screamed in protest. Not noticing how heavy my body suddenly was. I tried to take a step and would have collapsed into a pile if it wasn’t for my mates strong arms holding me to him.

He didn’t waste a second in sweeping my body off the floor and into his arms. His shadows swirling around me, clearly concerned for me.

I closed my eyes as I nestled further into his chest. Breathing in his comforting scent as he carried us to our room. I think I fell asleep before he could put me down or maybe I lasted a little longer than that but I barley felt the warm blankets before sleep overtook me for good.

I woke up the next morning burning up. Azriel was fully laid on top of me. Still sound asleep. I wiggled slightly, trying to sneak out from underneath the furnace that was Azriel when he slept. A small huff left his lips as he wrapped and arm around my waist. I waiting for him to wake up but he still seemed to be out for the count. I sighed and decided to close my eyes again. Realizing I had no chance in moving him.

When I woke for the second time, I was noticeably cooler. Azriel was laying across from me, fingers tracing small patterns along my bare stomach. His soft touch immediately making goosebumps rise in their wake.

“Good morning.” He said as I rolled over to face him. I smiled and moved over until my face was against his chest.

“Good morning. Care to tell me why I’m not wearing any night clothes?”

“Well someone wouldn’t let me put them down long enough to get them on. But I had to get your corset off of you at least.” His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sure you tried very hard.” He chuckled and continued his earlier patterns along my skin. “Thank you.” I said, moving closer to press a small kiss to his lips.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I know we would both work ourselves to death if the other didn’t stop it.”

“You’re not wrong.” I gave him another, longer, kiss. His hands paused to wrap around my waist.

“I just want to see you happy.”

“And naked.” I finished for him. He shrugged and gave me a boyish smile that made me want to do anything but get up. I kicked my leg free of the thick blanket and wrapped it around his waist.

“Well I know what would make me extremely happy…”

The thought trailed off as he pulled me closer to him. His hands and lips tracing all thoughts of work far away.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.

"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 

He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.

"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.

LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.

With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.

"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."

He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.

Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.

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

You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.

"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.

It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."

While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.

You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.

You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.

When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.

"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.

"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."

Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."

"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."

You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."

"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."

You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"

"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.

You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?

Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.

You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.

When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.

"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.

What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.

You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.

The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.

When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.

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

Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.

Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."

"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."

The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.

"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.

It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.

You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.

He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.

"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."

Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."

She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."

Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."

Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."

One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"

He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."

Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."

Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 

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

Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[revelboo]

Oml the cliffhanger on metroplex. Big guy needs more love in his life.

I absolutely love your work on these stories you got cooking here. Each and every one of them have so many characteristics to them. Can't wait for your next work. 🤗💖💖💖

Thank you!

18+ 🌶️

I Can Feel You Pt 6- extended cut

Metroplex x Reader

Monitoring as you step into the labyrinth that makes up his interior, for a moment you hesitate. Looking back up at the light streaming down from above like you want to go back. He knows he could close that exit to you, force you to continue on. Would you resent him then? If he takes away your choice? Little hands twisting together as you stare up toward that light, he knows he can't take that away from you. Needs you to choose him. And finally you take a shuddering breath and square your shoulders. "Okay," you whisper, eyes wide as you look around. "Okay. Show me, big guy."

Slowly he begins flaring his biolights, feeling the strain of redirecting energy where he needs it to give you direction. It's slow going when you're so small. Turning again and again, following the pulses of light. Trusting him to guide you and occasionally reaching out to brush your fingers against him almost absently. Those little touches helping focus him, because if he's wrong, if he's not careful, he'll burn through too much energy and be forced into recharge again. That unease twists through him as you follow, because he's not sure you'd be able to find your way back out. You're so little, so easy to overlook. How long would it be until the Autobots above miss you? Before you slowly starve to death wandering around inside him? That fear is a living thing, urging him to turn you back around. Let you go.

Just once, though. He wants to speak to you at least once. More than your stilted conversations as precious to him as they are. Wants to feel you reach out and be able to touch you in return. "I didn't realize all this was down here," you whisper, brushing against a cable. "It's like a whole other city." Except its only him here and now you.

You don't complain as he leads you, but as time passes, you are slowing. Shoulder and wrist bumping a wall as you turn a corner. Time is a hard concept for him, but it's different for you. You'd have taken a rest interval by now, right? He's not sure, but as you stumble guilt sets in. Knowing you're exhausted, but you're so close. Please, just a little further. "Metroplex? I think I'm done," you say, leaning your head against him. "Is it much further?"

Pulsing warm light, he waits, and you reluctantly push away from his walls to keep going. Knows you're tired and he's asking much more than he has a right to. But just this once, he wants to wrap his arms around your little frame. Needs you to understand how precious you are to him.

Exhaustion pulls at you as you scrub a hand over your eyes, your head pounding. It feels like you've been walking forever, trusting that there's a reason you're down here. It must be night by now or early morning. There's no way to know down here in his labyrinthine interior. He's seen you eat and must know you'll need to soon. Should already have. You keep your eyes on those warm, comforting lights of his, not on the empty shadows beyond. If not for the low hum of his spark vibrating under your feet, you'd think you were alone. Abandoned. Know you're inside him and there's nothing to fear, but panic is just there under the surface. Screaming at you to turn and run back the way you'd come. That this is a tomb, maybe yours.

And then light, warm and beckoning. Leaving the tunnel you were in to enter an open space limned in warm light along the walls, pulsing slowly as they run upward with a low thrumming you feel in your bones. Breath catching as you tip your head up to find his spark. It's a shocking thing to see, knowing it’s everything. It’s him.His life force pulsing and glowing above you, little arcs of energy trailing through the air around it.

"Metroplex? This is your spark, right?" The part of a Cybertronian they protect and keep hidden, and he's shared his with you. It feels like trespassing on something private as your eyes drop. Like this isn't something meant for you to see.

Directly under it is something almost like a closed metal flower, pulsing with that same energy. And along the ground, his biolights pulse. Slow, deliberate flares that draw you forward. As you approach, that strange structure opens, metal petals unfurling slowly as thick cables unravel from around it. "You wanted me to see this?" You ask, because of course he had. That thing that's not at all a flower is pulsing slowly like his spark, that light almost hypnotic. One of those cables brushes your ankle and twines about it as you approach and reach out. Fingers brushing him and feeling energy arc through you, shattering you.

That contact jolts through you as everything falls away and you’re left in a space limned in the warm pulse of his spark, surrounded by him. You can feel him in a way you never have before as you try to figure out if the space you’re in is small or infinite. And if touching whatever that was just killed you, because it’s so hard to focus here. You feel like you’re drifting and just want to sleep.

So hard to focus. That’s not your thought, is it? It feels like yours, but there’s a faint dissonance. Ground me, little one.

“Metroplex?” You whisper, reaching out and a figure materializes in front of you, bigger than you but not as massive as the Autobots are. Ghostly and insubstantial until his servos touch your fingertips and he solidifies some. You’ve never seen his bot form, but you know this is him. Metroplex. Warmth spilling through you as he offers you a big hand and you lay your palm in his.

“Touch me,” he says, the words a deep rumble, a plea as his servos curl around your hand.

Because he becomes more real where you touch him. Encouraging you to reach for him, hand lifting to cautiously cup his jaw. And his other arm curls around you and draws you near, feeling solid against you. The warmth of him, the thrum of his spark against you all so real. “Hi,” you whisper against him.

“You saw me,” he says, chin on top of your head, that deep voice so grateful it hurts you. Like acknowledging him, speaking to him is unthinkable. “Woke me.”

It breaks you wide open, that wonder in his voice over something so simple. Thinking about how he takes care of you, watches over you, has tried so hard to reach out. “I’m here. I’ve got you,” you whisper, reaching for him, cupping his helm in your hands and pulling him down. Because you understand that loneliness, of being unseen. Knowing you’re so much smaller than even the smallest Autobot, that you’re easy to overlook. To forget. And among them you feel alone, alien and unseen. His mouth is warm when you go up on tiptoes to kiss him. And he rushes into you, tangling what you feel with what he feels.

Knowing that he won’t be able to maintain this for long, but he’d wanted to tell you how much he appreciates you speaking to him so he doesn’t drift away from reality completely. All those little touches, the sound of your voice and your stories, you’ve held him together. Giving him something to focus on. A sense of self after so long.

You can’t separate yourself from him as his mouth slides against yours. Can’t tell if the need and heat are yours or his. But knowing that you see him and that you want to wrap yourself around him, protect him against that fear of being forgotten. Of losing what little of himself is left. Dying alone and forgotten.

Not sure how much of this is real, it feels like it is as he drags you against him. The kiss becoming something desperate, needing to show him he’s still alive. To feel him hold you, touch you. Big servos on your hips, lifting you as you wrap yourself around him. You feel the head of his spike slide against you. Sex and need and fear of being forgotten, left behind, all jangling through you. His thoughts, your thoughts. There’s no separating them as he pulls you down, the hard length of his spike sliding deep to stretch you.

Those big hands on your hips, moving you against him as your mouth brushes the corner of his mouth, hearing him venting raggedly against you. “I see you,” you moan, clinging to him.

“I feel you,” he whispers, against you. “I have you.”

You know it’s true as he keeps moving against you, his spike stroking deep again and again. You’re safe and sheltered here in his arms. He’s been watching over you all along, reaching out but unable to say a word. When he pushes you over that edge and you fist his spike, your climax is a gentle warmth spreading through you. Feeling him rock himself against you, groaning with his own release, helm resting against your forehead as those optics seem to devour you. Because he does see you, he’s seen you all along.

Previous

[peachdues]

Work has been kicking my ass the last couple of weeks, so I haven’t really had time to write. This is all I’ve got for y’all right now 🤍

Lovers of Compass!Sanemi and Reader discussing books, rejoice. They’re still a couple of fucking nerds (no matter how horny)

It’s almost one in the morning when your phone buzzes.

A message; one from the only person you text, who also happens to be your favorite. On your screen is a picture of the front cover of the book you’d given Sanemi before he left the day before; beneath it, the chat bubble signals he’s sending a follow up.

You caught up yet? Sanemi’s text reads.

You toss your own book to the side, straightening up in bed. Though no one is around to see, a smile unfurls across your lips and your thumbs hurry across your phone’s keyboard.

How far are you?

Sanemi’s reply is instant. Halfway. Can’t finish tonight but I’ve got a few things I need to discuss right the fuck now.

You glance at the time. It’s nearing one-thirty, and your alarm is set for six. Dragging yourself out of bed after less than five hours of sleep is a kind of stupidity you know better than to indulge.

You hit the call button anyway.

Sanemi picks up on the second ring. “I’ve got five minutes,” he warns, voice low, like he’s wary of being overheard. “So if I hang up all of a sudden, it’s ‘cuz of work —“

“Hi to you too,” you tease, settling back against your pillows.

A pause. “Hey there, beautiful,” you can hear his smile even through the phone. “You okay?”

“Better, now that I hear your voice,” and you can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed by the cheesiness of the admission. Texting him is one thing; hearing him, actually hearing that wonderfully gravelly voice of his soothes a tension in your limbs you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying.

He’s okay. He’s unharmed — safe, even. For now, that has to be enough.

Sanemi’s laugh comes through the phone as a staticky exhale of breath. “Normally, I’d ask what you’re wearing, but I’m dead fuckin’ serious — if they don’t win this war —“

“Which battle did you get to?” You sit up, wracking your memory for the approximate place Sanemi has reached in his book. “Did the cadre reunite?”

“No, half of ‘em are still across the fucking continent.”

“Ohhhh, yeah. Okay. I know where you are.” You tug at a loose thread on your comforter. “I can’t say anything. You’ll just have to keep reading.”

“God dammit,” and you imagine he’s rolling his eyes, maybe even glaring down at the book in distaste. “Shit’s got me stressed the fuck out. I don’t know how she’s gonna wrap this up —“

You giggle as he launches into a rant over loose plot ends. Squaring the mental image of your boyfriend — the one currently ranting about the various loose plot ends to still be tied up in his current read — with the one you know must be sitting in some alley or warehouse, waiting to do things he’ll never speak of, feels impossible at times. But here, for this small moment, Sanemi isn’t a Hashira. He’s just a boy, spouting off theories and guesses as to his book’s ending with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Here, there are no orders to leave, no bruised knuckles or bloodstained hands he has to scrub clean in your bathroom sink.

It’s just you and him; your Sanemi. Your wonderful, gentle, sweet Sanemi.

“Ah shit,” he cuts his impassioned tirade off with sigh. There’s a rustling on the other end of the line, but it’s too muffled to be distinguishable. “‘M gonna have to go —“

Just like that, the moment ends and the smile you’d been wearing slides from your face.“Oh.” And you hate how small your voice sounds. “That’s okay — I’m glad I got to talk to you for a sec.”

The rustling stops. “Me too,” Sanemi says softly. “Fuck, I miss you.”

This is the part you hate most; the part when he has to stop being yours and go be theirs, no matter how much you know he doesn’t want to.

Your moments with him are pennies to the hours the Corps gets to demand. As long as they keep their claws in him, this will always be how your moments with him end: in abrupt, hushed voices, Sanemi’s shoulders sagging with a guilt he shouldn’t have to feel.

You grimace. This forced distance between you is bad enough, and you don’t want him to feel worse than he likely already does. You knew what you signed up for by telling him you loved him. You can’t be mad for getting exactly what you’d known to expect. And besides, your ire is reserved for the Corps and the Corps alone. Sanemi doesn’t deserve it. You can’t leave him on your sour note.

He’ll be yours again soon enough, even if only temporarily. That has to be enough, for now. Better to give him something to look forward to, rather than reminding him — and yourself — of what you’re both currently without.

“If you still wanted to know — I’m wearing your shirt. Only your shirt.” You smirk. “A thong, too. The lacy green one.”

A favorite of Sanemi’s, as he’d mentioned a handful of times. One that always set his eyes wide, made his tongue flick out to wet his lips.

Your distraction works. A strangled groan crackles through the phone. “You’re killin’ me, woman.”

[autumnscribbles]

the one | drew starkey

part 2

pairing: drew starkey x married!reader

summary: after drew picked you up after your husband hurt you, it’s time to face him together

warnings: mentions of abuse, slight physical violence, not really proofread

wc: 1.9k

authors note: thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1!!! it truly means the world to me! it took me a while to think of where to take part 2, but i wanted it to be somewhat open ended so i hope you still like it!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The sun broke through the slight crack of the curtains, making you squint despite your eyes still being shut. Your eyes slightly opened, your mind instantly disoriented. You gasped as you quickly sat up, nervously taking in your surroundings. After a few seconds it came back to you. Derek. Last night. Drew.

The bed was vacant beside you. You remembered falling asleep with Drew last night, but you had no idea what he did after that. You smelled coffee wafting into the room, instantly craving it. You quickly threw the blankets to the side and found the kitchen, Drew’s clothes still on your body. His familiar scent comforted you and made you feel nostalgic for simpler days. Before Drew left to pursue acting, before you married Derek, before everything. You missed being carefree, riding your bike with Drew to go watch the sunset as you sipped on takeout milkshakes together. You missed when your biggest worry was what you would wear to school the next day, or what your weekend plans would be. You missed your life before all of this. Before you had to walk on eggshells around your husband, or spent every day trying to please him, or now thinking of him hurting you. You couldn’t even recognize yourself anymore.

“Morning,” Drew smiled over his shoulder. “Did you sleep okay?”

You nodded sleepily, rubbing your eye as you held back a yawn. He passed you a mug of steaming hot coffee, an attempt at latte art on the top making your lips curl up. Your eyes drifted to a blanket on the couch. Drew must have left the room once you fell asleep.

He knew you were vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of you. Didn’t want there to be any expectations or precedent for you sleeping in his bed. He didn’t want to use this as a way to insert himself in your life romantically. You needed space. Out of respect, he gently slipped out of the bed after you fell asleep, taking his place on the couch.

You sat on the couch with your coffee mug, tucking your feet under you. You let out a heavy sigh as the first sip warmed down your throat.

“Are you hungry?” Drew asked. “I can make you something.

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t think I can eat right now.”

Drew nodded solemnly, but told you that you couldn’t go the whole day without eating. At some point, he was going to make you something, no choice.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” you said, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I don’t know how to face him after…”

Drew sat down beside you, leaving a comfortable space. He was treating you like you were fragile, and maybe you were. You appreciated how gentle he was being, even if the behavior usually would anger you. You never liked being treated differently, or like you were delicate.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” he told you. “And when you’re ready, I can go with you.”

“Maybe I’m just overreacting,” you sighed. “I probably deserved it, and he’s probably feeling guilty.”

“Stop,” Drew whispered, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. “You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves to be treated that way. I’m not saying this for my own benefit but you can’t go back to him.”

You nodded, knowing he was right. You always thought it would be easy to walk away in a situation like this, you didn’t realize all the nuance that came with it. Your own feelings of shame, of failure.

“We’re married,” you sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. “It hasn’t even been that long and I’m already in a failed marriage.”

“You didn’t fail anything, y/n,” Drew said. “He failed you as a husband. You did everything right. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I know,” you admitted, agreeing with him. You knew Drew was right, he always was. He was always the voice of reason, the little angel on your shoulder saying all the right things.

“I think I should go over there,” you uttered after a few moments of silence. “At least to get some of my stuff. I can’t just wear your clothes.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙

Drew pulled up to your home, which suddenly had a cold aura around it. This wasn’t home anymore. It never would be again. You spotted Derek’s car in the driveway, meaning he was likely still home. You wondered if he went looking for you last night, if he called anyone to see where you were. Or did he just go to bed soundly, not even thinking of you?

Dread filled your body as you looked at your house from the passenger window. How were you supposed to face him?

“I don’t think I can go in there,” you mumbled, your voice laced with fear, shaking slightly. “Maybe we should come back when he’s not home.”

“Want me to go in?” he asked. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll grab it for you.”

“I don’t think it’s safe,” you replied. “He’s been giving me a hard time…about you lately. He’s going to get angry and think I cheated or something.”

Drew clenched his jaw, anger fuelling him. The audacity Derek had to be jealous of him when Derek was the one who manipulated everyone to get what he wanted. Drew had a bad taste in his mouth at the thought that they were ever friends. Now that Derek hurt you, there was no going back. No pretending.

“If he’s actually sorry, he won’t say a word,” Drew told you. “I’ll be fast, we’ll just get the essentials today and we can come back when he’s not here, like you said.”

You finally agreed, somewhat reluctantly. You didn’t want Drew to go in there alone, but you had to admit you needed some of your belongings. You needed clothes, stuff to take a shower, your phone back. You listed a few things off to Drew, explaining to him where he could find everything. He nodded quickly, telling you everything was going to be fine before he hopped out of the car, crossing the imaginary yellow tape onto your property.

Drew rapped his knuckles on the door, anxiously awaiting who would appear on the other side. The door opened to reveal Derek, looking disheveled. His hair was all over the place, a white tank top on with a stain on the front, his breath smelling like booze.

“Do you know where y/n is?” he asked frantically, not noticing you in the car on the street.

“I do,” Drew answered stoically. “I came here to pick up a few of her things.”

“What?” Derek’s voice had bite to it. “She sent her little puppy for her? Too much of a wimp to face me herself?”

Drew had told himself he would remain calm, but something broke inside him. Hearing Derek still speaking that way about you after what he had done. He couldn’t tolerate it. Drew grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him on the wall.

“You touch her again I’ll fucking kill you,” Drew sneered. “Don’t call her, don’t look for her, it’s done.”

“She can tell me that herself,” Derek chuckled. “You just think there’s hope for you. She’s my wife, Drew. I don’t care how whipped you are for her.”

“It’s not about me,” Drew said, shaking his head. “It’s not about me, or about how you lied to me our entire friendship, lied to her. You crossed a like, Derek. You were a piece of shit before but now…you’re just a monster.”

Drew could barely finish his sentence when he was blinded by the punch to his face. He groaned as he lifted his hand to his eye, his vision white and searing pain shooting through his face. Stay calm.

“Nice, Derek,” Drew nodded. “You gonna hit her like that next time? Real great man you are.”

“Don’t talk to me about my wife.”

They didn’t notice you at the door, letting yourself in. You had started to get anxious sitting in the car. You were worried about Drew. It was time to be brave, and to stand up for yourself. You gasped by the scene you were met with. Drew’s left eye was discolored, bright crimson leaking from his nostril.

“Derek,” you breathed. “What did you do?”

“Babe,” Derek smiled, rushing over to you, placing his hands on your shoulder. You noticed the blood stained on his knuckles. Drew’s blood. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean anything I- can you just come home to me? We can figure this out.”

“You punched him,” was all you could manage to choke out.

“Seriously?” he scoffed. “I’m trying to fix things and you’re focused on him? Here we go again with your little boyfriend.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Derek,” you said sternly, removing his hands from your shoulders and taking a step back. “I’m grabbing some things, and I’m leaving. You’re never going to touch me again.”

“You’re leaving me for him, right? That’s what this is?” he asked. “You’re just looking for the easy way out. I knew you were cheating on me.”

Drew stepped in to defend you, but you raised your hand at him. You knew there was a high likelihood Derek would hit him again if he had the opportunity.

“This has nothing to do with me and Drew,” you said calmly. “I was loyal to you, and a great wife. This is all your own doing. You’ll never be even a fraction of the man Drew is.”

Venom dripped in your words. You knew comparing him to Drew would hurt him, and maybe that was the point. He was constantly in competition, trying to one-up Drew, or to get you to think negatively of your friend. You were tired. Derek’s face twisted in anger, but you walked away before he had the chance to retort. You rushed to your room, quickly shoving what you needed into a bag. You felt dizzy, unable to process any of the events that had unfolded. When you came back to the foyer, Drew was by the door. His hand on the doorknob, waiting for you.

“Let’s go, Drew,” you whispered. “Goodbye Derek, don’t contact me. You can talk to my lawyer.”

With that, you were out the door, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you sat back down in Drew’s car. He slid in the drivers seat, hissing slightly as he brought his hand up to his eye.

“I can’t believe he hit you,” you muttered, tears filling your eyes, but not quite falling. Just teetering on the edge. “I shouldn’t have let you go in there.”

“It was worth it,” he said, giving you a weak smile. “I’d take the hit a thousand times over if it meant he’d never hurt you again.”

The tears spilled over, but you couldn’t help but smile anyway. “My hero.”

The tension in the car was heavy. You were unstable, feeling so many things at once. When you leaned in towards Drew, he placed a hand on your thigh, his blue eyes boring into yours.

“Take your time,” he whispered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “You’ve been through so much. I wouldn’t feel right taking advantage of this situation after everything you’ve been through.”

“As much as I want to. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for most of my life it feels like,” he continued, letting out an airy chuckle. “But I’m not going anywhere. So take your time.”

More tears spilled down your cheeks. Drew’s slightly calloused thumb brushed them away. He leaned forward, his warm lips connecting with your forehead. The warmth lingered as he pulled away, making you shiver.

“Let’s go home.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

taglist: @percysley

[some-stars]

not sure what this is or if it's part of an actual story but here, have 500 words of soft poolverine co-sleeping, why not.

--

The first night Logan shares a bed with Wade, he sleeps like the dead out of pure exhaustion. So does Wade, as far as he can tell, because when Logan stumbles dry-mouthed and confused into consciousness well past noon the next day, Wade's still passed out and drooling onto his pillow. It's not until the second night that things get back to normal--normal, in Logan's case, being the nightmares that rattle him awake every couple of hours, every muscle in his body clenched tight.

He hasn't given any thought whatsoever to what normal might be for Wade, but lying there soaked in sweat and trying to breathe his pulse gradually back down to something that doesn't hurt his chest means he has a front row seat to Wade twitching, muttering, jerking, and generally seeming to have a pretty shit time. After a minute or two, watching him like that starts to feel uncomfortably like none of Logan's business, so he rolls over and tries to fall back asleep. It's hard to ignore, especially when Wade lets out a low whine like a hurt dog right as Logan's on the edge of drifting off again. But he manages eventually.

It happens again the next night, and the next, so it's clear that this is just a fact Logan knows now about his new roommate, among the other facts he's accumulating. Wade watches cartoon porn in the living room in the middle of the day; Wade asks for "Thai hot" when they order takeout and actually likes it that way; Wade's liquor cabinet is stocked with two dozen flavored vodkas and three kinds of Kahlua and nothing else; and Wade sleeps bad. He never seems to wake up from whatever bad dreams he's having, though, or at least Logan never sees it happen. He wishes Wade would wake up. Logan knows how much worse it is to be trapped in the nightmare.

It gets harder and harder to ignore. A couple weeks in, after jerking awake from his own dream to find his left claws halfway out and buried in his pillow--if they'd come out all the way they'd be stuck in his own fucking face, so at least he's not dealing with that--Logan finally snaps. Wade's mumbling something incoherent that sounds from the tone like a plea, and his face is streaked with tears, and Logan's too tired to think about what he's doing when he scoots over next to Wade and wraps his arm around him, pulling him in close. 

Wade does wake up then, lifting his face from Logan's chest and meeting Logan's eyes with his own, wide and worried. "What--" It comes out as a hoarse whisper. "What are you...are we cuddling?"

He sounds genuinely confused, not even awake enough to make a joke. "Go back to sleep," Logan tells him, and closes his eyes.

After a couple seconds, Wade relaxes against him. "Okay," he says, agreeable and content like Logan's never heard him when he's awake. Maybe ten seconds later he's out again, breathing deep and even, soft in Logan's arms. The easy rhythm of it is hypnotic. Logan falls asleep and stays that way until morning.

--

tumblr hid the first version of this post because apparently i used a Naughty Word in the tags, but they refused to tell me WHICH word and just suggested i "change the tags around a bit" and see if that helped. which i can't even do, because of course a post from seventeen hours ago isn't going to show up in the Recent Posts view in the tag whether or not it's tagged with the Forbidden Term. so here are the original tags and if anyone is still giving any money at all to tumblr, i am BEGGING you to quit.

#the original plan was porn but i realized i'd need more groundwork for that#if this does turn into a story it's going to lead to logan offering to get wade off to help him get back to sleep#and wade who is still fuzzy and dumb from nightmare-brain agreeing to it#so logan spoons him and jerks him off and when wade comes he kisses the back of his neck and they both fall asleep very quickly and easily#then the next morning wade wakes up with his dick out and logan (still asleep) rutting lazily against his ass#and then. idk tbh. haven't gotten that far

[the-moon-files]

Alright, so I just read through that language barriers post of yours and had a Blast Tm, BUT! Now I have several thoughts that need to be spoken. Firstly, what with english being this really ancient language now, yn‘s basically got a free phd in hyrule, don‘t they?? Predestined for exploration because of their „excellent skills with the language used in the ruins and temples of old, as well as their familiarity with the mechanisms“ or something. The ruin researchers probably beg to have them in their team.

Secondly, apparently accents are really appealing to some people? The chain already finds yn‘s morning voice really hot, but how would they even react to the way they sort of mispronounce the words? Idk too much about how japanese sounds, but maybe they emphasize the consonants too much which makes them sound harsh all the time, or the opposite, too much emphasis on vowels and sounding very soft. Just… brainrot about rambling and not trying too hard to speak perfectly accurately being all it takes to have the boys smitten and kicking their feet.

Thirdly!! What about a yn that knows multiple languages? The chain tries their best to learn english, and then yn comes around the corner like SIKE. THAT‘S NOT ALL OF THEM. YOU WILL NEVER COMPREHEND IT ALL. (That‘s what I‘d do at least.)

sorry for late reply i have a hectic life rn and i got hit by hurricane helene lol

ao3/writing blog author curse is so real u guys, this was like a 100 year not anticpated flood or smth, also we're in the mountains??

anyway gonna assume u mean masc/male reader bc of the reference to this post!! if u want context or a sorta part 1

this is just gonna be a quick reply so i can share anons ideas w/the world tho since ive been hoarding asks 😔

at the very least Wild's Zelda is harassing you

at the very most, every time u guys get near a town or city, u are kidnapped by hylian researchers

just the image of a bunch of nerd hylians mobbing u and fangirling while the rest of the guys, in full armor and swords just stand awkwardly behind lmao

(they get lowkey jealous after awhile i mean what who said that-)

the way Legend, Hyrule, Four, and Twi hover a little closer when you talk

Wild and Twi are practically like excited dogs whenever you speak, perking up when they hear your deep voice, u know, bc u tried randomly talking in the evenings abt nothing and watched them pavlov respond and look to you every time

even when u just started talking about the grass or some flowers

lowkey you accidentally almost mess up their dungeon exploring bc theyre just so used to your accented voice in their heads, just around them, or smth guiding them along, that when they all split up into smaller groups in the dungeon,

each Link pair accidentally starts following a man's voice echoing in the dungeon until they all accidentally converge in a main room and the Link equivalent of the point spiderman meme happens with you in the center with Time, who had been your dungeon buddy (he's laughing at them as every Link goes a little red after realizing they just followed you unconciously)

ur favorite thing to do is leaning down to whisper in each of the pointed hylian ears randomly, just talking about mundane or random things and watching it twitch, some trying to stay still like Time/Twi/Wars/Wild, while others leap away like u burned them lmao Legend/Hyrule/Four, and Sky managing to do both, trying to maintain composure before he inevitably breaks out all red and hides in his hands lmao

(Wind dared you to do it originally, and he snickers every time he sees you doing it again lol)

-

ok but the multiple languages is endless comedy gold

bc everytime a Link thinks he's got it or starts to listen then realize ur actually speaking smth completely different language

u get the most memeable faces of his confusion

like these gems

(four's blue is showing, he's offended u switched languages every other word one time)

they're actually so fed up lmao

☆

anyway sorry for late reply!! I hope u guys are having a good week so far, and ill try to post some more, tho cant guarantee when as the holidays close in for me

(rip my class is also getting near the end too im Stressin)

peace out anon,

🌙

[ponyosmom35]

live

simon ghost riley x reader

synopsis: reader is still struggling with simon's death and their stolen future.

warnings: angst

Link to master list:https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She trudged into the house, kicking the door shut behind her as she shrugged off her coat. The weight of the day clung to her, heavier than the chill outside. She avoided looking at the photo by the door, the one she still hadn't moved. His grin in that picture felt almost mocking now, a reminder of what she'd lost. Four months gone, and she still couldn't reconcile the idea that he was never coming back.

The deck called to her, though she wasn't sure why. She grabbed a blanket and stepped outside, the biting cold stinging her face. He had built the deck the summer before last, insisting it would be "their spot" for early mornings and lazy evenings. She traced her fingers over the worn wood, his handiwork still solid beneath her touch.

Her gaze drifted to the yard, barren and lifeless under the season's grip. The once-bright flowers he'd helped her plant were shriveled, reduced to blackened stems poking from frozen earth. She didn't realize she was crying until her cheeks burned from the mix of tears and cold. The flowers felt like a cruel metaphor, as if they were fading along with him, leaving her with nothing but memories and silence.

She sobbed until she had no tears left, her chest heaving as she pressed her hands to her face. The sharp vibration of her phone startled her, and she fumbled for it, wiping her cheeks hastily as she saw his name on the screen.

"Hello?" she answered, forcing her voice to steady.

A thick Scottish brogue came through the line, a lifeline of familiarity. "I'm shocked you answered me, lass. Finally figured out how to pick up the phone, have you?"

She let out a weak chuckle, hoping it masked the shakiness in her voice. "Sorry, I've just been… busy."

He didn't buy it for a second. "Aye, busy burying yourself in work, I reckon. It's fine, lass, no need to apologize. I was just worried about you."

She sighed, staring at the lifeless yard. "I'm fine, really."

"Don't lie to me," he said softly, his tone gentle but firm. "I know you better than that."

Her resolve crumbled. "It's just… hard. I feel like I'm barely keeping afloat. Some days I think I'm okay, but then… something small reminds me of him, and it feels like I'm drowning all over again."

There was a pause, and she could hear him take a deep breath. "You've got to give yourself a break. He wouldn't want you to live like this."

"I don't know how to do anything else," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I just… I miss him so much."

"I know you do," he said gently. "But you need to step away, even just for a bit. Go somewhere you've always wanted to. Clear your head. It doesn't fix everything, but it might help."

She hesitated. The thought of leaving, of facing the world without him, felt daunting. "I don't know…"

He pressed on. "Do it for him, then. You know he'd want you to live. Not just survive—live."

She closed her eyes, her heart aching. "I've always wanted to see his hometown. He used to talk about it all the time. He promised to give me a tour."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Then go, lass. See the places he loved. I'll even meet you there for a day, show you around. You don't have to do it alone."

"Really?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.

"Aye. Just give me the dates, and I'll take care of the rest."

She started to protest. "I can't let you—"

He cut her off. "No arguments. He would've wanted you to have this. Let me do this for you."

She hesitated, but the warmth in his voice soothed the jagged edges of her grief. "Okay. I'll start looking at flights and hotels."

"Hotels? No, lass. Just send me the dates. I'll handle it all."

She smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. "Alright, thank you."

"Anything for you," he said quietly. "And for him."

As the call ended, she sat in the silence again, staring out at the dead flowers. For the first time, she let herself imagine something beyond the winter—a trip, a chance to see his world, and maybe, just maybe, a glimpse of herself coming back to life.

--

She lay in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around her, but the chill in her chest remained. She stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting despite her exhaustion. The room felt emptier than usual, the space beside her unbearably vast. She closed her eyes, desperate for sleep, and let her thoughts wander back to the last winter they spent together.

He was in the bathroom, the light spilling out into the bedroom. She watched him, leaning against the doorway, toothbrush in hand, clad only in his briefs. His tall, muscular frame was a sight to behold, his tattoos stark against his skin. The ink told stories she hadn't heard all at once—some pieces he'd shared, others he said he'd tell her someday. Now, she'd never know them all.

He caught her watching and raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "You staring at me again, love?"

"Maybe," she teased, propping her chin on her hand. "You're not exactly hard to look at."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned off the bathroom light and made his way to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he slid in beside her. Before she could curl up, he reached out, pulling her against his side.

"Bloody hell, your feet are freezing!" he grumbled as her toes brushed his leg.

She giggled, her mischievous grin hidden in the dark. "You're my heater. It's your job."

"Is it now?" he muttered, feigning irritation. She pressed her icy toes between his thighs, and he gasped, jolting. "Get your icicles off me, woman!"

She burst into laughter, clutching at his chest as he groaned dramatically. Still, he didn't let her go. Instead, he pulled her tighter, wrapping his arms around her.

"You're impossible," he said, his voice muffled against her hair. "Should I turn the heat up?"

"No," she replied, nestling closer. "I've got you."

He sighed, his breath warm against her temple. "Right, then. But I swear, for Christmas, all you're getting is socks."

She laughed again, the sound light and full, and his lips brushed the top of her head in a soft kiss. "Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow."

She drifted off that night, her smile lingering as his steady heartbeat lulled her into peaceful dreams.

Now, in the silence of her bedroom, her eyes fluttered open. The memory felt vivid and real, as if he had been there just moments ago. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the empty space where he should have been. A sharp pang of loss struck her chest, but it was quickly replaced by something softer, warmer. For the first time since he'd died, she realized, she'd recalled one of their moments without crying.

She smiled faintly, her fingers resting on her heart. "Thank you," she whispered into the quiet, as if he might somehow hear. Then, closing her eyes, she let herself fall into a dreamless sleep, her heart a little less heavy than before.

[spinchip]

Will any of the fights be different than in canon? ESPECIALLY since Zane and Nya are now competing,,,, do you have any ideas for that? Is the Jay-Cole fight still gonna be a thing, and if so, how will it manifest? (I imagine it would be similar to canon except w/o all the initial fighting. But the lack of Zane in the dungeon completely removes the core of Cole's subplot while he's down there, even if it does eventually become a general "ok lets figure out how to free everyone" thing. I could also see them BOTH being sent down there,, Chen WAS trying to do that when he saw that neither of them were willing to win ("so both of you will lose" etc. etc.)... And the Jay and Cole here are different from canon in that they're much more ride-or-die w/ eachother, so to speak, given that they have no one else.)

Pixal is sort of filling in for Nya's role this season, right? How does everyone react to.. yknow... android (THE WORD NINDROID DOESN'T EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE EITHER.... our whimsy.... gone....) or does she stay out of sight entirely (or never get her cover blown? Does she even do the disguise thing that Nya does?),,, My main question is, does Zane see her as an android and if so, how does he react...

Karlof is out on the Jade blade section of the tournament so Nya essentially takes his spot on the bracket. i thiiink that makes it evenly balanced since Zane doesn't participate. the Jay-Cole fight still happens (they're both really upset they're fighting each other) but they give it their all and Cole eventually throws the match because of Zane lol. Lloyd wins all his fights 1) because he's genuinely a fantastic ninja and he knows spinjitzu and 2) because most of them will hold back because they're fighting a literal child lol.

Zane never officially competes in the tournament!

SO the boatride to chens island in a day and a half long and then, when the arrive, there's at least three days of downtime before the actual tournament begins. this is where we get a lot of character interactions. Cole and Zane form a fast friendship then, Chen gathers all of the contestants for dinner where Zane openly challenges him and hints he knows more than Chen expects. Chen, threatened by this, makes zane... disappear.

but not before Zane catches on to the fact he's in hot water and literally says to Cole, "Come find me." the morning after that dinner, Chen regretfully announces that Zane has a family emergency and had to take their only boat back to land late last night... so everyone is effectively stranded for at least three days on the island... and zane is no longer competing. Cole realizes something fishy is going on and when he loses to Jay, he looks for Zane down in the dungeon.

Pixal IS filling in for Nyas role and she absolutely does not hide her nature. she monitors chens palace for a while, gathering intel. She ends up being pestered by a falcon that just wont leave her alone >:[ finally, She sneaks into clouses room and steals the spell page during a time when he shouldn't be there fort a while. Clouse catches her in the act and she tries to run but she's caught. Falcon swoops down and tries to grab the spell page but she tries to hide it, suspicious of the bird being under clouses control before Falcon reveals his robotic nature and attacks the members of chens cult surrounding her. reassured he's not clouse or chens pet, she gives him the page before she's captured and he disappears out into the forest around the island.

pixal is brought to the dungeon and thrown in a cell. she breaks out because she's awesome. eventually she finds cole and the others and agrees to help him hunt down Zane which they do!!

i would say everyone is visibly weirded out and freaked out by her android nature, but she doesn't let it bother her. she sees her existence as a point of major pride. Zane doesn't outwardly react to her appearance, seemingly neutral on it.

Pixal, with pride: i am the worlds first android. i am the most advanced technological being on ninjago!

zane, thinking: oh she is going to be very mad

[mullet-stan101]

Werewolf Stan x Reader

Chapter 2, tw: just some mentions of physical pain and transformation (might elaborate more in further chapters)

It’s been a month since Stan was bit and three weeks since he fell sick from the bite. Ford hasn’t been able to do anything but keep him comfortable while he waits for the inevitable. Y/n on the other hand, doesn’t look at it so technically…she sympathizes with Stan as she can tell he’s obviously been through something rough.

Stan blinks and rubs his eyes as he wakes in the morning. Light filters in despite the thick private curtains in Ford’s spare room, and he looks around in confusion. He doesn’t recognize the house at all, he doesn’t even remember how he got here.

“Geesh what happened…”

He rubs his shoulder and his head snaps back as that makes him remember, but he’s surprised to see nothing but skin. Despite being tired and confused…he feels amazing. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up slowly.

“Stanford…?”

Y/n glances up from the kitchen as she hears him, and he walks in. He does look a lot better…now that he’s not covered in grime and blood she can definitely tell that they’re twins, even with the weight and hair difference.

“Hi…you hungry?”

Stan glances up a little surprised but he remembers, smiling a little sheepishly as he’s just in his wife beater and boxers. 

“Yeah…starved. Where’s Ford?”

She shrugs as she cracks some eggs into a pan and starts to scramble them, dressed in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. 

“Down in the lab as usual…he barely ever comes out.”

Stan nods slowly and sits down. He checks her out a little from behind, she’s very pretty. He’s surprised that Ford landed her.

“Uh…thanks for convincing him to let me stay…”

He trails off as he never caught her name and she smiles softly.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n…well- I’m Stanley, call me Stan though. So…how’d you and ol’ sixer get together?”

She blinks and then chuckles as she realizes what he means. 

“Together? Oh gosh no...at least- not now.”

She hesitates a little as she doesn’t want to admit that she hoped for that at first, but Ford has changed since college.

“I just work for him, all of his projects and stuff y’know?’

“So you’re a nerd too, huh?”

She laughs softly and slides him a plate of scrambled eggs.

“Pretty much- but a different type I guess. Ford is the chemistry and supernatural nerd, I’m just the engineer. And a little animal fascination I guess.”

Stan nods and smiles softly, eating the eggs and thanking you. You both eat breakfast quietly until Ford comes back upstairs, looking a little frazzled and sleep-deprived. Seeing Stan up and better would usually make him relieved but this makes him even more nervous. He walks over and without hesitation pries his mouth open and shines a light in his eyes.

“Hey-! What the heck??”

Ford huffs as he reluctantly moves back out of Stan’s personal space, Stan rubbing his jaw with a glare as he’d just been grabbed like a lab rat. 

“You look completely healthy…I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Stan frowns at this in confusion. 

“Wait and see what?” 

Ford scoffs as he opens the fridge. 

“This doesn’t concern either of you? Your bite healed a day after you were bit, you’ve just been sick for nearly a month. Today is a full moon, does that ring a bell?”

Stan scoffs and nearly chuckles at how crazy that sounds. 

“You’ve been reading too much monster junk, Sixer. If you’re about to tell me I’m a werewolf you’re wrong…and nuts.” 

“What bit you huh, Stanley? I bet you’ll say a big dog won’t you?”

Stan smirks as his mouth opens to retort but he closes it as Ford says that last statement. 

“Uh- yeah…that’s what it looked like to me.”

Ford shakes his head with a sigh, taking a swig of coffee as he adjusts his glasses. 

“Just as I thought…you need to stay here tonight…maybe from now on.”

“What?? Like some kinda lab rat, no thanks. I just needed you to fix me up and you did, now just a couple days to get back on my feet and I’ll be fine.”

Y/n frowns softly as she looks at him. 

“Ford’s right Stanley…I didn’t believe him at first, but this can’t be a coincidence.”

Stan frowns at this, thinking she was on his side and he shakes his head with a scoff.

“I can’t even believe this- I’m stayin’ for a bit anyways but no more prying my mouth open, ok?”

Ford nods and leaves Stan alone, and y/n eventually follows as she goes to help him. Stan is left alone in the kitchen and once they’re gone he can’t help but think about what they said, and he hates to admit that it scares him. 

***

That evening he’s internally on edge whereas Ford doesn’t hide it at all. He preps one of his spare rooms and gets y/n to help him secure it. Stan watches quietly from the couch, his brow knit in worry…he watches y/n and he can’t help but admire her skillful nature compared to his brother’s smarts. The sun begins to set and they finish, Ford anxious as he fiddles around with his equipment and y/n notices how anxious Stan is, sitting next to him quietly.

“I know you’re probably nervous…”

Stan scoffs and chuckles, attempting to hide it. 

“Me? Nervous? Hell, I've fought off prison guards and gang members, I’ll be fine.”

She frowns a little, her eyes soft as she can see right through it. 

“Well if you are nervous don’t worry, you may have to go through it tonight, but Ford’s smart. If anyone could figure out the cure to lycanthropy it’d be him.”

“You’re sure…?”

She smiles softly and nods, to which Stan lets his cocky look fall, looking a little nervous.

“It’s the suspense…if it’s really going to happen I’m gonna feel it. Why the hell is this happening?? This isn’t supposed to be real!”

“I-I really don’t know…it’s something about this place. I’ve never seen anything like it before either.”

Stan sighs and he looks at her, his brown eyes more worried and scared than when he was even sick. The night gets later and he gets progressively more nervous, Ford eventually pushes him to go into the room and he does. The two sit outside his room anxiously as the moon begins to rise, and Stan sits inside, watching and waiting for what feels like his impending doom. His breathing grows shallow as his hands begin to shake and he clamps them in his lap.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…chill out, Stan c’mon-”

He groans as a deep ache ripples down his spine and he leans forward with a gasp. Slowly his body begins to swell and contort as he whimpers in pain and fear. 

“N-no…no…” 

He yelps in pain as it shocks through his system, his body contorting and growing as he can’t deny it anymore. Y/n’s head snaps up as she hears the sounds in the room and she looks to Ford who is trying to stay stern. She flinches as there’s a thump and whimpers and growls before it goes completely silent. The two sit there in silence for a few minutes, before the sound of low whimpering seeps into the living room. Her heart clenches hearing this, despite the idea of a werewolf being one room over, she can’t help but feel bad for Stan.

“Ford…we’re not just going to sit here are we?”

Ford glances up with a frown.

“Well yes- we can’t risk anything, even if it’s my brother.” 

Her brow furrows in concern and she scoffs as she steps towards the door.

“How do we expect to help him if you don’t even want to see him like this? You’ll risk your life to go hunt some random crap in the woods but not to help your brother? I’m gonna check on him.”

Ford’s eyes widen as she goes to unlock the door and he stands up quickly to grab her hand. 

“No! Are you crazy? A werewolf is a werewolf! Stan or not-”

She opens the door slowly and stiffens, in the dark of the small room a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her, an enormous wolf.