#I’ll even give you space and pull my personality back to make sure you’re comfortable

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[cosmicalily]

10:45pm with bang chan - a @cosmicalily timestamp

author’s note: okay hello so where was mr christopher bahng when i was stressing and studying like crazy for my exams? also first channie fic (everyone claps) highkey embarassing that it took me so long apologies to my bahngers

warnings: discussions of anxiety and stress to do with university/school

“Do you want a pudding? Minho dropped them off for us.”

You didn’t reply, body sprawled across the couch. Chris shrugged, assuming you were asleep, picking the small plastic cup up and rifling around in the drawer for a spoon.

“I’m so overwhelmed,” you said suddenly, your voice cracking. He stopped in his tracks, letting the spoon and unopened pudding clatter to the counter. He approached you, gently, resting his hand on your cheek, moving his thumb to wipe under your eye when a tear spilled over.

“Come here,” he said, putting his arms around you as you crawled onto his lap, wrapping your legs tight around his waist. He rubbed circles into your lower back, letting you shove your face into the crook of his neck and dampen his sweatshirt with your tears. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. You always have too much on your mind.”

You sobbed at his kindness, holding him tighter. “It’s just all this shit with my assignments, and then work, too. I keep covering for people but when I’m the one who’s sick, nobody covers for me. And then there’s that girl who just pulls apart every fucking thing I do.”

“That friend of a friend?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “What a bitch.”

“I know, I hate her. I hope her lash tech absolutely botches her next set, eyes swollen, no space between,” you huffed, and Chris laughed.

“That’s my girl, let it out.” he smiled, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Is there anything else you’re still stressing about?”

You sighed. “That assignment. It’s making me nervous, even though I know I can do it. I just don’t want to.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Chris said honestly. “I don’t think there’s anything you’ve done to your ‘worst ability’ that anyone else could do to their best. It’s not everything, baby, I promise you.”

“It’s a sixth of my outcome-”

“Out of the other five parts that you’ve already smashed out. I’m always proud of you, you know that, and it’d make me proud to see you let yourself go a little. I’m here, you know, you can always tell me this stuff. I have the space in my mind for it if it starts to overflow from yours.”

You gave Chris a kiss on his nose, then his cheek, then his lips. “Thanks, baby.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” He hoisted you up, carrying you into the kitchen and setting you down on the counter. He stood between your legs, taking time to properly wipe your tears and press gentle kisses onto your lips. Chris tore off the foil lid of his pudding and dug his spoon in, pressing the cool metal against your mouth. You opened, smiling, letting the cool custard melt onto your tongue. It was comforting, not just the food, but sharing it with him.

He slung one arm around your waist, the other holding his spoon, taking a mouthful for himself then offering one to you. It felt good to have something substantial in your stomach; whilst Chris always made sure you ate properly when studying, you never gave yourself the time to actually enjoy the food, or to have something as a treat. Your stomach would cramp after the third coffee and the second energy drink, but now, it felt calm. 

“You’re too good to me,” you looked up at him, eyes shining.

“Nobody’s good enough to you, sweet girl,” Chris replied. “I wish I could stop everything and give you a moment to breathe. It’ll be over though, someday. I’ll make sure of it.”

“And we can live in a pretty house by the beach with a dog and make out all day?” you asked, giggling.

He smiled. “That’s the dream, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s the dream,” he repeated, pulling you in close.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[meazalykov]

whiteheads

lena oberdorf x esthetician!reader

summary: with an esthetician girlfriend, she can spot anything on your face.

warnings: one suggestive mention

you sit in your cozy esthetician studio, the low hum of the diffuser filling the space with the soft scent of lavender and eucalyptus. 

your eyes flick to the clock, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you think about your next client—your favorite client, really. 

lena had been so caught up in her recovery from the ACL injury and all the intense training sessions that came with it, that she'd fallen off her usual skincare routine. her skin was still gorgeous, of course—she was lena, after all—but you noticed the subtle changes. the stress, the long hours of practice, the constant travel. all of it was taking its toll in ways that she hadn’t paid attention to, but you had.

so, naturally, when she mentioned feeling like her skin hadn’t been looking its best, you immediately scheduled an appointment for her in your studio. 

"my favorite client needs a bit of pampering," you'd texted her with a wink emoji when she was at bayern’s training ground last week

she responded with an eye roll, followed by a simple, “i’ll be there.”

you hear the soft creak of the door, followed by her familiar voice. 

"is it too late to back out?" obi teases, stepping into the room with that easy, confident smile that still makes your heart skip a beat, even after all these years.

you turn, grinning. "too late. i’m already prepping your skin in my mind."

she chuckles, moving toward you, her hands slipping into her pockets. "i can’t believe you’re making me do this," she says, mock-complaining. however, you can see the glint in her eyes, the way she’s more than happy to let you work your magic on her.

you gesture to the treatment bed. "you’re going to thank me when we’re done, trust me."

after you say that, you reach into the small closet and hand lena a soft, pink, plush robe to change into, one that you've had ready just for her. 

she raises an eyebrow as she takes it, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "really? a robe? you’re going all out, aren’t you?"

"of course, all of the clients wear a robe because i don’t want their outside clothes on the bed– even though I do wash the sheets after each client," you reply with a playful grin. 

"however.. all of the clients use all of those blue robes that are hanging in the other closet. the pink one I gave you is my personal one– nothing but the best for you."

obi shakes her head but doesn’t argue. she’s used to you doting on her at this point, and honestly, you know she enjoys it. 

without much hesitation, she begins to strip off her t-shirt, revealing the toned muscles of her back and shoulders that you’ve traced with your fingers countless times before. you’d step out the room before this point for every other one of your clients– but with lena there's no need for you to step out or give her privacy—you’ve been together for three years, and this level of comfort is something you've earned together. 

you’ve seen much more of her than this, in much more intimate settings.

as she tosses her clothes aside and pulls on the robe, you can’t help but admire her for a moment. despite the months of recovery, despite the grueling rehab sessions, she still carries herself with that confident grace you love so much. 

she ties the robe loosely around her waist, glancing at you with a small smirk when she catches you watching her. 

"like what you see?"

you shrug playfully, trying to keep your tone casual even though your heart skips a beat. 

"always."

lena chuckles softly, stepping over to the treatment bed, moving with a slight limp that reminds you of all she’s been through with her ACL recovery. she carefully settles onto the bed, stretching out with her leg propped up on the pillow you’ve set for her. 

you lean over, adjusting the blanket around her, making sure she’s completely comfortable before you get started.

“ready?” you ask, your voice soft as you hover over her with your rolling chair.

lena grins, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection. “as ready as i’ll ever be.”

with that, the session begins, and you slip into your professional yet tender mode, knowing that this is just as much about relaxing her body as it is about taking care of her skin.

"this feels so weird," she admits with a laugh. 

"i’m used to seeing hannah, not... this."

hannah is the physio at bayern.

"well," you say, stepping closer and brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "this is a different kind of healing."

her eyes soften at your words, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. there’s an unspoken understanding between you—she knows how much you care about her, how you notice the little things even when she doesn’t.

you break the silence first, giving her a playful smirk. "now, lay back, relax, and let me work."

lena raises an eyebrow as she leans back, settling into the bed. "you’re getting bossy."

"only when i need to be," you shoot back, grabbing your first cleanser and starting to work on her skin. 

you begin with the first cleanse, your fingers moving gently over her face, massaging the cleanser in slow circles. "just taking off the surface stuff," you explain as you work, your voice soft but steady.

lena closes her eyes, sighing softly. "this feels... really good."

"good," you whisper, your hands never pausing. 

as you wipe the first cleanser away with a warm towel, you glance at her face—her features are relaxed, her breathing steady. the tension that usually lines her forehead and jaw, remnants of her intense focus on the pitch, has already begun to melt away.

"so, this is what you do every day?" she asks, cracking one eye open, a teasing tone in her voice. 

"you get paid a lot of money just to... touch people’s faces? i could retire from football now and go to school for this."

you laugh softly, moving on to the second cleanse, this one deeper and more targeted. 

"there’s a bit more to it than that, lena."

"uh-huh," she murmurs, clearly enjoying the sensation of your fingers gliding over her skin. "i could get used to this."

"you should," you say, leaning a little closer, your voice dropping a touch. "i mean, i don’t work on my off-days for anyone except for you."

her lips curve into a smile, her eyes still closed. "oh yeah? i feel special."

"you are special." you let the words hang there, simple but true. and for a moment, it feels like the world outside your studio doesn’t exist—just you, her, and the soft intimacy of the moment.

you finish the second cleanse, wiping her face gently with another warm towel. 

"how’s your leg?" you ask as you reach for your next tool.

"better," she says, her voice a little quieter now, a little softer. "you already know that. i’m getting stronger every day."

"i know," you say, your tone filled with pride. "i can see it."

as you prepare for the next step—extractions—you hold up the small metal tool. 

"okay, so... next up are extractions. how are you feeling about that?"

lena’s eyes flick open, and she looks at the tool in your hand, her brow furrowing slightly. "what exactly are extractions?"

"basically, i use this tool to gently press around your pores to get rid of any blackheads, whiteheads, clogged pores... you know, stuff like that."

"and this is... necessary?"

you nod, smiling reassuringly. 

"it’ll make a difference, trust me. but if it’s too uncomfortable, we can skip it and go straight to the enzyme mask and LED light."

lena squints at you, the skepticism clear on her face. 

"how uncomfortable are we talking?"

you tilt your head, considering how to phrase it. 

"it can sting a little, but i’ll be as gentle as possible. and remember, if it’s too much, we can stop."

she eyes the tool again, then finally nods. 

"okay. i’m tough. i can handle it."

you smile, loving her determination. 

"i know you can."

starting with her nose, you gently press the tool against her skin, carefully working around the small blackheads that have appeared. lena winces almost immediately, a small hiss escaping her lips.

you pause, looking at her with concern. 

"you okay?"

she opens one eye, giving you a lopsided grin. 

"yeah, just... didn’t expect it to sting like that."

"we can stop if you want," you offer, setting the sterile tool down momentarily.

lena shakes her head, her competitive nature shining through. 

"no way. i’m not tapping out. finish what you started."

you laugh softly, admiring her grit. 

"all right, tough girl. let’s keep going."

you continue the extractions, moving slowly and carefully, making sure not to cause too much discomfort. fortunately, lena’s skin doesn’t have too many issues—just some whiteheads that you quickly take care of. 

when you’re done, you set the tool aside and wipe her face down with another warm towel.

"all done," you say, smiling at her as you clean up. 

"how was that?"

lena lets out a dramatic sigh of relief. 

"i thought you said you were going to be gentle."

"i was!" you protest, laughing. "you’re just sensitive."

"or maybe you’re secretly trying to torture me," she teases, her lips curving into a playful smile.

"i’d never," you say, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "besides, you survived."

"barely," she mutters, but the smile stays on her face.

now that the extractions are done, you move on to the enzyme mask, smoothing the cool, creamy, raspberry scented, formula over her skin. 

"this part’s the easy part," you tell her. 

"it’ll just sit for a bit while it works its magic."

"finally," lena says, her voice taking on a teasing tone again. 

"something that doesn’t involve pain."

you laugh softly, finishing up with the mask and setting the timer. "well– it will make your skin tingle but here's a fan to blow on your face," you say, stepping back to admire your work. 

“by ‘tingle’ do you mean an actual tingle– or burning?” 

“a small tingle. if your skin starts to burn please say something.”

“oh– i will.” lena whispers with her eyes closed.

as the enzyme mask settles onto lena’s skin, you take a moment to glance at her, admiring how peaceful she looks lying there. her eyes are closed as the fan blows cool air onto her skin.

obi is breathing steady, and she seems to have completely relaxed under your care. the soft, warm light from the lamp above casts a gentle glow over her features.

you set the timer for the mask and move behind her again, placing your hands gently on her shoulders. lena tenses slightly at first, but as your fingers begin to knead into the muscles, you feel the tension start to melt away. you apply just the right amount of pressure, working in slow circles over her shoulder blades, feeling the tight knots that have built up from months of intense training and rehab. 

your thumbs press into the spots just above her shoulder blades, and a soft sigh escapes her lips. you smile to yourself, continuing to massage her, knowing that lena never fully admits how sore or tired she gets, but you can feel it in her muscles—the tightness, the strain. 

you take your time, moving down toward her neck, your fingers expertly working over the base of her skull and into her hairline. with each stroke, you can feel her sink deeper into the bed, her body completely giving in to the relaxation.

“you okay?” you murmur softly, more out of habit than necessity, since you know she is.

lena doesn’t respond, but the soft rise and fall of her chest tells you everything you need to know.

you smile to yourself, convinced that she's on the verge of sleep. continuing your gentle ministrations, you move your hands into her hair, lightly massaging her scalp in slow, circular motions. 

obi loves when you run your fingers through her hair, and you know this will send her over the edge into pure bliss. her head tilts slightly to the side, completely relaxed under your touch.

as you move your hands back down to her neck and shoulders, working out the last bit of tension, you glance down at her face. the breathing in her body has deepened, her lips slightly parted. 

yep, she's asleep. you chuckle softly to yourself, careful not to make any sudden movements that might wake her.

for the rest of the time, you keep your touch light, alternating between massaging her shoulders and running your fingers through her hair. the timer finally goes off, signaling the end of the mask’s set time, but you’re in no rush to wake her. 

she looks so peaceful, so content, that you almost hate the idea of disturbing her. 

eventually, though, you clean the mask off of her face with a soft warm towel. afterwards you press a soft kiss to her temple, and whisper, “babe, time to wake up.”

lena stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly comes back to the present. 

“was i... did i fall asleep?”

you laugh quietly, running your fingers through her hair. 

“yeah, you did. i think i’ve got some magic hands.”

she chuckles softly, still half-asleep, her voice drowsy. “you really do.”

"you look amazing already." you admire her glowy skin.

"i always look amazing," she quips, but there’s a playful gleam in her eyes as she glances at you.

you grin, rolling your eyes. "humble as ever."

"i learned from the best," she shoots back, smirking.

you prep the LED light therapy, getting everything ready for the final step. after you set the timer on the LED, you gently put safety eye covers on obi’s eyes before guiding her head beneath the LED light. 

the soft red glow fills lena’s vision through the safety eye cover, and you sit behind her, running your fingers gently through her hair as she relaxes under the light.

"this is my favorite part," lena murmurs after a moment, her eyes still closed.

"oh yeah?" you ask, smiling softly.

"yeah," she says, her voice low and content. "you. taking care of me."

your heart swells at her words, and you lean down to press a soft kiss on the top of her head that isn’t underneath the light. 

"always."

as the LED therapy wraps up, you remove the light and finish with a light serum and moisturizer, massaging the products into her skin with gentle, soothing strokes. 

when you’re done, you help her sit up, and lena stretches, touching her face lightly.

"i feel like a new woman," she says, examining her reflection in the mirror you hand her.

"you look like one too," you tease, stepping back to admire the glow of her skin.

lena turns to you, pulling you by the waist and into a warm embrace, her hands resting on your waist. 

"thank you," she murmurs, pressing her lips softly to yours.

“for everything."

you smile against her lips, feeling the familiar warmth of her body against yours. "anytime," you whisper, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. 

"but next time, no slacking on the skincare, okay?"

lena chuckles, nodding. "deal. but only if i get to come back here for more of your special treatment."

"oh, you’ll be back," you say with a playful grin. "whether you like it or not."

she smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. "i think i’ll like it."

masterlist

[transformers-spike]

Hello ummm can I order a uhh wholesome Starscream x human!SO with the SO being into praising him and caring for him? And he of course is drinking it all up because he needs love and reassurance more than he could ever admit

Yet again my brain decided to go for a full length novel, so I had to pull back and came up with this. Think of this as them before they got together:

“Are you alright?” “Of course I am! Why would you think otherwise?” he snarks, puffing up like a disgruntled cockatiel. You squint and look him up and down with the most “dude, just admit it” expression you can muster. He glares at you for what feels like ages, ridiculous brow plates knitted into a “fucking try me” V. You sigh, take off the welding mask and put down the torch. “I’m worried about you.” Those very same brow plates shoot up to the sky. “Pah! I don’t need your worry!” he scoffs like he isn’t bleeding out in the middle of the woods. “Sure you don’t, but I’ll have you know there’s only so much I can do! We should call Ratchet.” His fist slams to the ground, you stumble but manage to catch yourself before falling face first into the deadly spikes adorning his stiletto. Death by high heel isn’t on your “appropriately ironic deaths” list, but you should add it. If your brain didn’t slosh inside your skull like a snowglobe in the hands of a petulant two year old, you could have sworn the mighty ex-commander of the Decepticons looked apologetic for a split second. “I would rather not deal with the likes of the Autobot medic,” he declares in a slightly softer voice, although not without his usual amount of scorn. “After all, you’re doing just fine,” he croons in a sly, buttering tone. Maybe you could have believed him if he hadn’t been constantly berating you for fucking up the impromptu surgery. You are not a medic, goddammit! Much less well-versed in the art of welding shut a metal alien from a planet light years away! You’re just some car junky with pyromaniac inclinations! But seeing him this way… covered in grime and energon, wings hanging low and servos shaking. You’re glad you didn’t send him to voicemail.

You pat his leg. “Thanks, but if this happens again I’m calling Bulkhead to haul your ass back to base whether you like it or not.” Putting on your welding mask, you keep working. Starscream stays oddly quiet, not even bothering to beep at you indignantly when your torch falls out of line. It’s no Picasso, but the bleeding has stopped. After you step back to give him some space, he tests out his leg, standing up and shifting his weight from side to side. The injured leg strains but does not collapse. “Good?” you ask. “Manageable,” he mumbles in his typical “it kinda sucks but I have to be grateful” way.

Pride fills you up like a single mom downing martinis during happy hour. Although not the best compliment, it’s a Ritz-Carlton coming from him.

“Do you want to go back to base? Or just… hang out here? In the middle of the woods?” He wrinkles his optical ridge at you but doesn’t answer.

“Okay,” you drawl out, taking a seat on possibly the most comfortable rock in Nevada. Years pass by – or so it feels like – waiting for the usually extremely bitchy (thus chatty) bot to break the silence. He does not. “I think I should go,” you sit up and thumb at your car, parked all the way across the woods on the main road, a good hike from where you’re currently at. “Don’t,” he hisses. His expression is almost… forlorn if not for his angry brows. Oh fuck off, the emotionally constipated airplane war criminal can’t ask you to hang out without hurting his pride. Which makes you the responsible adult of the situation compared to the billion year old metal chicken. And by God, you are the least responsible person you know (excluding Starscream).

So you sit your ass back down and lock eyes with said chicken. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?” you ask, fully expecting him to shut you down by calling you fleshling and waving your humanity over your head like a shitty “begone” charm.

Instead, he thinks about it, averting his gaze from you and turning it to the vast wilderness beyond the trees. “Vehicons,” he states bitterly. “Either it was a purely coincidental dogfight or… Megatron is after me.” His whole frame shudders, wings sinking as low as they can go.

“I see.” You pause to take a deep breath. “Do you want to tell the Autobots?”

He shakes his helm and loosens a self-deprecating chuckle from his vocalizer. “Like they would listen to me.” You scrunch up your nose. “How about I tell them? Would that be easier for you?” His optics widen for a brief moment before returning to their perpetually conniving state. “I’m not delighted with the option, but it’s preferable considering their propensity for gathering unsolicited information.” The silence returns. “Hey, I know it’s not the best time to bring this up. But you don’t even have to answer, just please hear me out.” He peers at you wordlessly. “You’ve been through-” you gesture at dry neon blue energon adorning his frame “-a lot lately. I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings or anything like that, but if you ever need someone to just… be around, I’m here.” His expression hasn’t shifted one bit. It’s completely unreadable. You continue on with gritted teeth. “Personally, I’ve never defected from an extremely violent faction and been hunted down through the sky, but I find it’s easier to suffer around friends and family. They help shoulder the pain.”

He arches a metal brow. “Are you implying we’re friends?” “I mean-” you stammer, “I definitely consider you a friend. If you don’t, that’s fine, I’m not forcing you or anything. To each their own. But that’s beside the point-” A lengthy chuckle cuts you off. “Does a friend answer their comm in the middle of the night cycle and perform surgery with sub-optimal tools?” You’re not sure if he’s insulting you or trying to make a meaningful point. Maybe both. “If so,” he continues, lips quirking into an intimidating but somehow genuine smile, “we are friends.” Your brain flatlines. “Oh,” you whisper. “OH,” it hits you like an F-15 Fighting Falcon at full speed. “I… okay. So, um, if you want to hang out and stuff, I can stick around until five o’clock. Then I’ll have to leave and get ready for work.”

“Good enough,” he scoffs good-naturedly, having returned to his bitchy old self with slightly less bitchiness. But the smile he doesn’t bother hiding betrays something deeper. Starscream is your friend. Starscream called himself your friend. Holy shit, you think you’re going to have an aneurysm.

[lustlovehart]

Only In Tears and Dreams

Pairing: (Main) Scaramouche x Reader, Wanderer x Reader

Summary: [Angst] The soon to be god meets you in his future, a beautiful love it is. But, it makes him realize, the only way you’ll ever love him, is the version of himself where he’s completely erased. You’ll only be his if he is not himself.

Warnings: Unrequited Love (Reader to Scara), Comfort in Wanderer x Reader portions

The gods must have taken it upon themself to oversee his suffering, cause why is it, the space of solitude he so carefully hoped to salvage from reality, has been tainted with images of what he always believed to be his demise.

You.

The landscape is softly blurred, save for your very clear form. You’re breathtaking. God, he hates you. You’re the sole being capable of making the empty cavity in his chest beat with something that was never there in the first place. You’re the only human in this world he’d even remotely allow insults directed towards him to come from. You’re the only person he can stay in close vicinity with for extended periods of time without throwing lightning to the skies.

You’re you. But… the you in his dreams is different.

There’s no hate in your eyes, it’s you, no doubt, but a version he’s secretly wanted to see himself.

A you who is, undoubtedly, in love with him. No… those eyes that are filled with such a disgusting emotion, are looking at the him with blue and teal wrapped all around him. Not purple and red, not The Balladeer.

It’s then he remembers, you will only ever love him, if he was not himself.

“What’s wrong? You seem off today…” you’re up close, he can see you, he can hear you, but that’s the only two senses he possesses to behold you and your glory. He can’t bury his nose in your neck, he can’t hold your waist in his palm, he can’t taste whatever flavor you have on your lips.

A cruel reminder that the version he holds of you in his heart is only a dream.

“Hm… silent today huh, don’t be so moody, you have one of your political scientifa-magig things going on don’t you? I’ll be sailing back to Fontaine soon so you better enjoy me while I’m here.” You look annoyed, an expression he’s grown accustomed to, but this one is softer than what you give him.

A voice speaks back, sounding too similar. His voice, is heard, but it’s not coming from his lips, it’s from the other him.

“Hm? I had no idea I was holding an overgrown child in my arms, how can someone at your age not be able to pronounce “political science” normally?”

Holding?

Seems the harbinger was too focused on you to notice that, yes, you are held in his arms, you’ve been sat on his lap looking into his eyes this whole time.

“How can someone at your age not be able to grow huh? I must say for someone in science you’re a bit below average h— mhm…! Mm!” The image of a hand pops up, the palm tightly covering your mouth as you fight a struggle to regain speech.

“Someone seems to be forgetting whose bed it is they’re staying in for the next two weeks.”

“Mm!! Mmm… mhm…? MHMM…?!” It’s a scene that would be witnessed in a cheesy rom-com film from Fontaine. If he was in reality witnessing this with any other couple, he’s sure he would turn his head and pretend he hadn’t seen such a disgusting display of affection.

But it’s a little endearing when it’s the two of you.

“Mhm—! Haaa… Okay okay! Sorry Mr “Hat guy”… Jeez, considering you almost suffocated me to death maybe I shouldn’t sleep with you— Ah…!” He watches internally as the blurred vision moves, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Are you gonna throw me in the water…? It’s cause I put sugar in your tea isn’t it…”

“So that was you.” Panic momentarily sets in your eyes with your accidental confession, you grasp around his neck tightening, or at least he thinks you tighten it, his arms slowly leaning you towards the river before quickly pulling you back into his body.

He laughs but you don’t, only chastising him for his attempt at scaring you. “You…! Luckily you met me after I quit the fatui, who knows with your attitude I might have fought you with a delusion.”

“Oh really?” He doesn’t sound amused, albeit, it seems this “Scaramouche” was part of the fatui or at least, played some part in it, as his playful demeanor is quickly dissipated at the mention of that organization.

It’s then when the dream starts to go cloudy, the sight of you slowly rippling away. His hand, not his dream self’s, but his own, almost reaches up to caress your face before you disappear, but his body locks him in place before he can move in time to catch you.

He should be happy. He doesn’t have to see a you he can only despise and wish for in his feelings. He has to remember, that horrid feeling you make him know, is just that, horrid.

Now that he’s seen what he’s secretly wanted. He knows just how detrimental it would be to have that with you. A weakness for him, one that if even minorly damaged, could lead to catastrophic destruction to his psyche.

He’ll claw that feeling out of his body if he has to. Feeling your love was warming, he can’t have that. So, his hand leans towards his chest, his nails pointed directly at the place a heart would be, before punching through.

But yet again he remembers, it was just a dream.

He’s harshly awoken by the sound of footsteps clanking on metal, his body suspended in air. He can feel the nimble fingers of someone connecting the tubes to the holes in his back. But he doesn’t bother to make contact with them. He’s sure, it’s Dottore. That is until, he’s not so sure

His synthetic puppet torso shakes a little as the first tube is connected, a hand placed on his chest to stop him from shaking. A hand, that’s all too familiar.

When the mysterious helper emerges from below, his eyes can’t seem to stop themself from looking.

“You.”

“Yes, me. Who else would you have trusted with impaling you, my Lord?”

“Ha? Anyone but you, at least if they killed me through an accidental misplacement they would find assistance or cower at their lord's body.” He just woke up, that dream has not yet disappeared from his collective consciousness. “You would do it on purpose and then watch me fall without any form of continuing the job.”

“If you talk anymore you might put that scenario into action, Sir, though, if it did come true I can’t deny I wouldn’t do what you just stated.” He doesn’t talk back, only a tut leaving his lips before you dive down to insert the next mechanical implement in.

Though, he does wonder.

“[Name], where do you live?”

“Oh? Are you suddenly interested in my personal life? I don’t think it’s a good look for a god to be hooking up with a mortal.”

“I’m not asking for something that foolish. Answer.”

“I live in Fontaine— Lived, I mean.” He can tell you didn’t like his sudden change in demeanor, as he quickly can feel you connect his wiring slower, but also a lot more forcefully, dare he say even painfully. Though he doesn’t cause he’s not so weak as to admit that as hurt. He’s a puppet— no, a god, this doesn’t hurt.

The cold glare you give him stings a little though. Just a little. But he won’t admit that either.

“Hm.”

“You ask but don’t say anything? I shouldn’t have even replied to your stuck-up—“

“Why did you join the fatui?” … You seem to lack a comeback. “And you say I’m the one who doesn’t speak back.”

“I’m almost done. You’ll be on the way to becoming a god soon enough my Lord, once I’m finished will you please allow me to take my leave and—“ his hand is only seen in a flash, his finger already gripping onto your wrist tight enough he might as well be acting as a handcuff.

“No, stay with me.”

“If I don’t go back to Sir Dottore, he’ll get mad.” His eyes narrow at the mention of the name before returning to their original form.

“To hell with that doctor, you’d defy a future god?”

“Future, My lord. Besides, would a god need a mortal by his side?” Your words are sharp, they seem to have cut him deep as his grasp on your wrist loosens before eventually falling back to his sides, his head turning to let out the second scoff of the night.

“No, not at all.”

“Then… I’ll be going. Goodbye sir, good luck on your endeavors of godhood.” You don’t look back at him. For a moment, his soul flinches at the familiar sight. All too similar to the woman who started it all, his mother.

He doesn’t call out to you, only watching the sight of that wretched doctor grabbing hold of your shoulder and leading you out the door. He thinks to himself, the moment he’s ascended, maybe he’ll become great enough to see reverence in your eyes.

Or maybe, something that isn’t reverence, or praise? No… a feeling he’ll forever refuse to hold. For now, he’ll convince himself that all he wants is your submission, not anything more. However, that nagging feeling he wields will always remind him in the back of his head what he really wants from you.

He remembers that dream.

It was warm, something he didn’t think his synthetic body was capable of feeling, yet here he was, resting his head in the warmth of you. His eyes were entirely focused on the look of your face as your fingers combed through his hair.

He couldn’t feel it at all, but somehow, it felt as if your touch transcended his body and reached his soul in the dream. His eyes water before his hand quickly wipes them away without even letting the tears fall.

But he won’t ever feel that. Perhaps, it’s for the best. A god must be above mortals, so he will not grow attached to those who must be beneath him. He will throw you away just like he did to the rest of those sorry humans in his life. He will forget you just like he forgot them.

You will be nothing but a character meant to build his higher being self to greatness. He will feel nothing but godhood in his veins.

Love is only an obstacle meant for distraction.

After he had regained the memories of his past sins, he no longer has a name to call his own, only having the name the traveler bestowed upon him.

His feet walk across the pavement of Sumeru, running errands for the small god of Sumeru. Particularly, it seemed many citizens that day must’ve all collectively agreed to bombard him with annoyances, as they all looked at him too many times and spoke too loudly when he was near. But, they didn’t, he’s just in a bad mood.

From the corner of his eye, he spots the familiar uniforms of the fatui, a woman and a man exchanging whispers while searching the area.

“Where’s [Name]? Surely they know the doctor is asking for them.”

“I don’t know! The last time they were seen—“

The name strikes a chord in him, but he continues walking. He no longer plays any part in that wretched organization, so he won’t pay any more mind to it.

He will keep walking until he can’t anymore—

A quick hand on his arm pulls him to the side, a familiar hue in their eyes alerting him as to who this runaway is. Even with their face covered in shadow from the hood, that voice was all he needed to confirm.

“I’m so sorry sir, but do you have any idea what the quickest way to get to Fontaine would be from here?”

I didn’t make it exactly clear because I didn’t think it was too important for the plot, but in this Reader is an assistant working directly under Dottore a bit against their will but thats okay (no it’s not). Also for the dream bit, I may not have made it clearly, but essentially, Scara is looking through the eyes of wanderer, along with that, he has no idea this is his future, he’s under the impression that his mind is playing tricks on him and showing a “what could’ve been.”

[luffysinterlude]

★ LATE NIGHT CONVERSATIONS. . .

summary: in which zoro convinces you to see yourself from his point of view.

warnings: named fem!reader/oc, reader has suicidal thoughts (not too explicit, yet not very subtle), cursing, zoro may be ooc, angst/comfort

word count: 2K+ // slightly edited

an (1): this fic started when i got drunk and wanted to read angst. i revised it so many times and i’m still somewhat unsatisfied (hence the rushed ending) but i really love this oc i created and hope i get to write about her more :3 been feeling a lil sad bc i turned 21 and i’m still somewhat stuck in my life and uuuugh. just need zoro so bad..anyway…I’ll probably do an oc introduction next :p

ZORO thinks you’re the prettiest person in existence. He wishes he could give you his eyes so you could see yourself from his point of view. He watches you as you sit next to Robin: a blanket wrapped around your body, your head leaning on her shoulder as you listen to the conversation she’s having with Franky.

Tonight, something’s different. You don’t have the usual gleam in your eye nor does your laugh echo throughout the Sunny. Instead, your eyes are red and swollen, and you’re quieter than usual — only speaking when you’re spoken to. Your eyes meet Zoro’s for a split second, and understanding flashes in his gaze as he realizes why you’ve been so distant.

You ignore the swordsman’s curious eye, trying to be more interested in the conversation Robin and Franky are having; something about poneglyphs, but you wouldn’t be too sure because your thoughts are louder than their voices, making it hard to focus.

Tonight, everything hits you at once: your past, the present, and the what-ifs. The future remains a distant concept, with its many possible outcomes holding you back.

You think these thoughts that cloud your brain are nothing but selfish. A burning desire of yours is to quietly slip away and let your soul be free from this body and place.

You love the Straw Hats, your captain, and your crewmates. You love the sea and exploring new islands. With every stop, you hope to learn something new to distract yourself from the small part of you that wishes you weren't alive.

But every now and then, it hits you. And you feel like you’re nothing but a waste of space.

Before you realize it, Zoro’s standing next to you, offering his hand. You know the blend of sympathy, disappointment, and sadness on his face. With a deep breath and a small smile to the rest of the crew, you accept it, allowing him to pull your body up and lead you down the corridor.

+x+

Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter turned pirate, was someone you held close to your heart. He was your closest friend, your anchor in times of darkness, and your lover.

He took care of you, even in your absence; he told you that you look out for everyone else that you tend to forget to take care of yourself.

When the crew split up and you had decided to go to Whole Cake Island, Zoro made sure Franky had sent you off with two transponder snails so he could check in on you. He’s still unsure of what happened on the island of sweets, but after your reunion with the rest of the crew he’s noticed the light in your eye had become darker.

He leads you to his room, opening the door for you and placing his swords by the entrance. You take a seat on his bed, a change from your usual behavior of lying down. Your thoughts crowd your mind again as the atmosphere around you grows quieter.

You’re not doing enough. Luffy doesn’t need you, nor do the others; you believe you’re just extra weight they carry because you’re his sister.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You feel the mattress dip as Zoro occupies the space next to you, his body radiating warmth your way. He’s laying down, arms rested behind his head, eyes closed. You stare at the man next to you, taking in his form; despite the number of times he’s smiled in the face of death, scars and stitches scattering his body, you still think he’s the most handsome man on this earth.

“Just been…thinking,” you start. “About everything that’s happened up until now.”

Zoro hums to let you know that he’s listening, a cue for you to continue.

“Nobody on the crew knows this, not even Luffy, but I was there at Marineford.”

This makes Zoro’s eye shoot open, a look of surprise painting his face. As bad as it sounds, he isn’t too interested in learning about where the crew spent the last two years, he’s just glad they all made it back together alive. He knows that you spent time mastering your Haki with your childhood teacher, but that’s all you’ve let the crew know about.

“Grandpa snuck me in disguised as a marine — I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone if I was able to leave quietly. I wanted to see Ace one last time, and he granted me that because he owed me one for keeping an eye on Luffy when we were younger.

I was able to visit his holding cell, and the sight of him…it felt as if I was being punished. Ace was the one person who understood me and how I tend to feel, the one person I shared so much in common with. He was able to find bits and pieces of himself again thanks to the light that shines through Luffy, and when he left us I promised that I’d try and keep him safe despite the distance between us, and hopefully find myself through our crybaby brother as well.”

You’re smiling fondly at the distant memories of you and your brothers, ones that you wished were photographed so you could have physical proof of those events taking place; so even when you’re old and senile you’ll be able to remember them happening.

“Tell me more,” Zoro says. He eyes the spot next to him, and you position yourself to lay there. He allows you to remove his left arm from behind his head to use as a pillow. “Were you safe, at least?”

Of course not. You were infiltrating the World Government, and if you made a tiny mistake, you would’ve been right next to Ace on the execution platform.

“I was — you know I wouldn’t do anything impulsively, unlike some people.” You giggle, remembering the moment Luffy fell from the sky, in the middle of the battlefield. “I ended up being able to sneak away because of him. I found Trafalgar’s submarine and hopped on board and waited…and I can’t help but think that was my biggest mistake, leaving Luffy alone. It’s a heavy guilt that I’ve been carrying.”

Zoro ponders for a moment; it isn’t your weight to carry, he wants to say. Luffy went to Marineford on his own accord, and not every ending is a happy one. He’s also curious about how you were able to find the surgeon and his crew, but that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“And when I felt Shanks’ presence nearby, I asked Law to take me to his ship — which he declined, of course — so I got off and swam there instead. The waters were surprisingly calm, so don’t panic, I’m sure Jinbe wouldn’t have let me get eaten up,” you confess to him, reassuring him that you were safe every step of the way.

You stare at the left side of his face, your arms wrapped around his body as if he was a teddy bear. The blanket you had previously wrapped around your body now covered parts of his, his arm cuddling you close as if you’d ever slip away.

“How’d it go with the redhead?” Zoro asks. His eyes are still closed but you know he’s interested in knowing; asking questions is somewhat his way of begging to know more. He isn’t as stoic as he thinks he is, at least not towards you.

“It was good seeing Shanks again. He was heading to Marineford to end the war, and allowed me to stay and hide with him until Luffy made the decision to reunite in two years. He’s actually the one who took me to my childhood teacher; it took about three weeks after burying Ace and Whitebeard to get there.”

Zoro’s curious about how you handled Ace’s burial, but again, that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“They asked about us. It was different being the one to share experiences about life on the sea; but it was refreshing and fun…I told them all about the crazy stuff we went through, and they let me know about the reputation we’ve built for ourselves. It’s actually kind of cool how many people know of us, but also scary at the same time. It really opened my eyes though; it was probably the first time in a long time that I…” you trail off, repositioning your head to be more comfortable, the hand that lay on Zoro’s chest now tracing lines as you daze off. Sensing that he’s lost you, he opens his eye and nudges you lightly.

“I felt like I had a life purpose again. Gaining the knowledge that a lot of people had their eyes set on us as a team, it made me realize the responsibility I hold. The promises I made to both Ace and Sabo, the ones I made to you and the rest of us, and the promise I made to myself as a child — my ultimate dream: to live a long, fulfilled life.”

“Even though I felt great and motivated after that and even now, the thoughts still linger around. The what-ifs: what if I stayed and attempted to save Ace alongside Luffy? What if I got caught by the Marines? What if the five of you never found me in Loguetown?

It’s a never-ending battle, and I’m getting more tired of myself with every passing day. It’s the reason why even now I exhaust myself mentally and physically, just to escape my thoughts. I guess there must be something happening with the planets for me to experience these feelings right now,” your tone is light, almost playful, yet your words place a heavy weight on him.

You let out a sharp sigh, suddenly turning on your back and staring at the wooden ceiling. You release your Haki to see what the rest of the crew is up to, noticing that some of them have already gone to bed. The only other people awake at the moment are Luffy, Sanji, and Jinbe — sharing a late night snack and a hushed conversation.

“You’re stronger and more resilient than you think,” Zoro states. “As a matter of fact, you’re probably the strongest person I know, both physically and mentally.

You’ve faced nothing but obstacles your entire life, and it makes me wish I had known you when we were younger. You and Kuina would’ve been great friends.” The mention of your lover’s childhood friend makes you smile. He’s only ever confided in you about his upbringing, and you pray to the heavens, hoping that Kuina herself hears you ask for his protection. “I admire you so much.”

And it’s true: Zoro envies how strong you are. He wishes he had unlocked Haki at a young age. He wishes he was as smart as you. There are so many things Zoro admires about you, and he wishes he knew the words to voice it.

“I’m not great with words.” You giggle at his self-awareness but let the laughter die down as he rolls his eye playfully. “But you deserve to be here — alive — regardless of where you came from, what powers and knowledge you possess, and what happened when you were a child. I’ve watched you grow into the person you are today, and it’s been a privilege.

Sometimes, it feels as if I was a saint in my past life to experience this: the open ocean, the different people and places, and you. However you see yourself isn’t how anyone else views you. Chopper looks up to you as a guardian — and despite the small age difference, I’m sure our knucklehead captain does too. Nami, Robin, Usopp, and Franky see you as their sister. I’m sure I heard Jinbe speaking of you like a daughter, and as for the annoying waiter we call a cook, he practically worships the ground you walk on. The skeleton praised you constantly, so I’m not sure how you don’t see the admiration everyone has for you.

You’ve become one of my biggest inspirations. I’ll probably never be in the mood to admit this again, so make sure you’re listening.” He suddenly sits up and rests against the headboard, your movements copying his as he interlocks your hands with his.

He meets your gaze, and you feel like you fall in love with him all over again. He’s looking at you with pure adoration, as if he’s trying to engrave your face into his memory.

Even with tear stains running down your cheeks and puffy eyes, you’re still the prettiest person to exist. Everything about you is perfect, and a demon like me doesn’t even deserve to be in your presence, Zoro thinks.

“The time we spent apart, I took some time to think about our adventures as a crew. I’m not sure if I subconsciously did it because it was a strange feeling being away from you all, or if it was because Perona kept asking too many questions.

After explaining how the ten of us all became a crew, she pointed out that I mentioned you a lot. I didn’t think so at the time, but I guess it’s just something that feels natural to me. What I’m trying to say is…

“I love you. You know this already, but I know sometimes it feels nice to have a verbal reminder. I’m in love with you, and I know I’ll always be. And I’ll help you fight your battles, even when you ask me to give you space. I’ll do anything you want me to, just promise me you’ll let me be there for you. You — in such a short amount of time — have become my greatest weakness.

It hurts when you push yourself away from everyone else, especially me. I know you don’t want to feel like a burden, but you’ll never be one; to me, or the others. Especially to Luffy. Whether you decide to tell him you were there to see Ace, is up to you. I’m positive he won’t react the way you think he would. You’ve always taken on way more than what we ask of you, and applying more pressure to yourself isn’t going to make us look at you any differently. You’re appreciated for all that you do, and will always be.

The only thing I’m asking of you is to take the time and make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Physical battles already take a toll on all of us, and we can always help each other out, but the mental ones we face can only be taken on by ourselves. Even I find it hard to deal with it. But then I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.”

Your jaw is hung open at Zoro’s words; yes, he saves sweet talk for you and you only, but this was an entirely different and unexpected side of him.

You want to cry. You want to kiss him. You want to take all of his pain away and give it to the officials in the World Government. You want to cradle his face in your chest and kiss his cheeks and tell him sweet nothings; yet as you process his words, you sit there in silence.

I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.

Similar to the last words spoken to you by your beloved brother Ace, you feel tears slip out of your eyes and suddenly you’re trapping Zoro in your arms.

“Thank you, Zo.”

The whisper reaches him, and he relaxes comfortably in your embrace. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your torso. Even though it took a lot of guts to be that vulnerable, his chest feels lighter. With a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head, you return the words back to him.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always being there for me. You’re truly one of my anchors in this life.”

+x+

You wake up the next morning alone in bed. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, except this time a note sits on Zoro’s nightstand.

Woke up to Nami banging on the door. Kind of surprised it didn’t wake you up either. Anyway, we’re docked now and Luffy dragged me out with him to explore. The stupid cook and Robin are still here on the ship, so I asked them to ring me when you wake up. If you decide to leave the ship, come find me. If not, then rest and I’ll come back to you later. Love you, Zoro.

You smile at the sloppy handwriting, your mind quickly flashing to last night’s conversation between the two of you. You sit and think about it and come to the conclusion that you no longer doubt yourself. You feel as light as a feather, hopping out of bed and changing into a new outfit for the day. You’re assuming your lover had taken it upon himself to change you, not remembering when you had put your sleeping clothes on.

You waltz into the kitchen, greeted with heart eyes and the smell of coffee.

“Good morning to you, Athena. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up, Sanji’s desperately wanting to go pick some things up. Are you feeling better now? Zoro said you were feeling under the weather this morning.” Robin’s gentle voice distracts you from worrying about the amount of blood spilling from Sanji’s nose, a soft smile on her face as you greet her back.

“Good morning! I feel much better now, like I can do anything.” You smile. Sanji’s serving you a plate of breakfast as you sit across from the archaeologist. You start to eat, trying to peek at the newspaper she’s holding in her hand. The headline makes you choke on your food.

“WHAT THE HELL? LUFFY’S AN EMPEROR NOW?!”

Your voice is loud enough that Sanji and Robin are sure the entire island could hear it. Before Sanji’s able to fill you in on what was discussed after you and Zoro went to bed, your shrieks were heard throughout the Sunny.

“WHAAAAAAT?! MY BOUNTY’S AT TEN DIGITS NOW?!”

“Well, you and Zoro missed a lot last night. We’re happy to know that you’re feeling better now though!” Robin says, a closed-eye smile sent your way.

You’re in a state of shock: reading the article that was released less than twenty four hours ago, and you hear Sanji’s tongue click.

“Maybe we should take Athena-swan to Chopper for medicine,” Eyes wide and jaw hung, you nod your head. “And probably look for the embarrassment you call your boyfriend.”

With that, you shove Sanji away from you, standing up quickly and taking hold of Robin’s hand. You grab your bag and walk off the ship with the two of them next to you, feeling thousands times better than last night.

Zoro, you say in your mind. Please don’t be lost. Eh — it’s been hours since they left. He’s definitely lost.

With a new sense of confidence and optimism, you hold your head high and continue your journey in making this a life worth living.

+x+

an (2): ahhhh yes!! athena (reader) is luffy’s sister…i have her while character outline already written. i kinda hate the ending but i also didn’t want to stay stuck on this lil story for too long…but i do want to write more abt our lovely athena and the life she’s willing to live <3

please do leave feedback! it helps me improve :) especially since i’m still learning & getting back into it!!

[sunshine-theseus]

Et Tu, Brute? | Steph Cately x Reader

Words: 2.6k Summary: everyone betrays you. You just didn’t expect her to do the same; "et tu, brute?" - 'you too, Brutus?' – Caesar upon seeing his friend amongst his assassins Warnings: sexual themes, sexual shaming, leaked nudes, angst, I make the arsenal girls assholes sorry. this probably isn't my best but i hope you like it Request by - @liasputellas

The air felt different as I walked into training. I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe the way Maggie our receptionist looked at me with disgust, or the way the whole locker room went quiet when I walked in, or the way everyone seemed to avoid me like the plague.

The rain was pelting down on us, but I stood alone on the sideline shivering as Jonas gives the rest of the team instructions. Steph seemed to be missing today despite the empty space in bed when I awoke, so I was the odd one out. He finishes and approaches me.

“I think you should take a few days off.” Is the only thing he says.

“Why? What have I done wrong? No on will talk to me.”

“You haven’t seen?” I begin to get nervous, well more nervous than I already was, as he pulls out his phone.

“I thought Steph would have shown you this morning. I wish I wasn’t the one to break it to you.” He types things in and scrolls for a while before finally landing on what he’s looking for. Then he turns the phone to me.

Arsenal’s Star Midfielder, Y/n L/n’s Naughty Pictures Have Been Leaked By An Anonymous Source

My breathing grows heavy, and my head begins to pound. My sight goes into tunnel vision as I reread the headline over and over. This can’t be fucking happening.

I take off stumbling back toward the locker room, seeking some sort of privacy to have the breakdown. I end up sitting on the floor beneath a running shower in some false hope that it will wash away everything, but it’s all for naught. There was only one person I’d ever sent photos to, and it was Steph. She’s the one person I trust with my deepest secrets and she’s not here to comfort me or help me understand why the girls are ignoring. Obviously, it has to do with the photos but, I thought they’d be by my side.

Sobs wrack my body and I lose track of time as the shower continues to run, until I hear boots clacking against the linoleum floors. I scramble to get up and leave before they arrive, but the effort is futile.

They come piling in but stop in their tracks the moment Kim sees my soaking frame looking at the floor ashamed. I try to move around them, but Katie grabs a hold of my shoulder, my drenched jersey sticking to her skin as well as my own. My eyes flick around desperately looking for someone who will let me go, but not even Kyra seems to feel remorse.

“You’re going to go home, end things with Steph and stay somewhere until you figure out where you’re transferring to. You’re not welcome back here.” Katie pushes me back toward the locker room, clearly a sign that I should fucking move and get out, but I’m stood frozen.

“Did you not hear her?” Caitlin begins to approach me, much like a lion approaches it’s prey, but I still can’t move.

“Why are you doing this? Why would I end things with Steph?”

“You’re a dirty cheating bastard that doesn’t deserve her. You’re fucking disgusting.” Despite my want to fall to the ground and cry again, I slowly move to my cubby and grab my stuff, then make my way out.

-

When I finally pull into the driveway, I become very aware of Steph’s car that fills the space again. I become wary as I close the car door and make my way to the house, fearing what I’ll meet on the other side. I juggle my keys in my hand and struggle to slide it into the lock as they shake, but eventually the wood swings away from me and I step inside.

It’s eerily quiet as I make my way down the hall. Steph’s nowhere to be seen as I pull my now damp kit off and place it in the washing machine, or when I go to our room to grab clothes to change into. I trek back through the house, eventually falling onto the couch, with no sign of my wife.

My phone buzzes and I reach for it in a hurry, hoping to see a message from Steph. Instead, it’s from a small group chat of friends from across the football scene, checking in to ask if I’m okay. I leave them on read and scroll through my contacts to find Steph. I press call, but it goes straight to voicemail.

~~~~~

15 minutes later, keys rattle against the door in a similar fashion to how I imagine mine did, and in walks Steph. When she spots me on the couch she stops in her tracks and the look on her face slowly melts into anger.

“Why are you here?” I admit the harsh tone in her voice feels like a stab to the heart.

“Well, I basically just got fired so I didn’t really have anywhere else to go Steph. Can we talk?”

“I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”

“Why? Is it because the fucking pictures you didn’t even bother to tell me about? Who doesn’t tell their wife that private pictures were leaked?”

“Don’t act like I’m in the wrong! You sent those photos to someone, it’s your fault for trusting them!”

“Who?! You? You’re saying I shouldn’t trust you?”

“No! Whoever you sent those fucking pictures to! Because it certainly wasn’t me who got them!” I freeze once I realise what she’s implying.

“Y- you really think I cheated on you? You think so low of me?”

“There is no other explanation for it Y/n!”

“You… you and the girls are fucking unbelievable. I’ve only ever sent those types of things to you Steph. Only you. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted enough. You really think I’d throw 6 years together, 2 of those married, away like that?” I take a deep breath as I try not to break down in front of who I thought was the love of my life.

“If you scroll back far enough, you’ll find those photos in our messages. Around 11 months ago, after your birthday. Before this morning you wouldn’t have been able to find them on anyone else’s phones except ours. Which means our messages got hacked.” I stand up and bump shoulders with her as I make my way back to our room, pulling out a duffle bag and packing it.

It takes a few minutes for the brunette to follow me, looming in the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Clearly that’s what everyone wants.”

“You’re just leaving? Just giving up?”

“Giving up!? No Steph, I’m not ‘just giving up’. You think I’m capable of cheating. You think I’d throw away all my years of loving you just like that. For what? Some random hookup with a meaningless girl I’d never see again? You clearly don’t trust me, which I can’t live with. I love you. And it’s not just you. The whole fucking team thinks so little of me. I kept my vows, why can’t you keep yours?” I continue to move around the room, collecting items I needed, as I wait for her response.

“I love you.” Is the only thing she can say, so I slip on some shoes, leaving the worn arsenal kit in the washing machine.

“I love you too. But until you can give me a proper apology, and mean it, I’m going to stay with Mackenzie or Sam. I guess tell Jonas I’ll hand in my resignation papers by tomorrow.” She grips my arm as I try to walk past her. Tears pool in her eyes and I can’t stop mine from falling.

“Please stay. We can talk.” She whispers, her bottom lip wobbling.

“I don’t think I can do that right now.” I reply, and I kiss her gently as a goodbye before I walk out the door.

~~~~~

I end up at Sam’s, having officially resigned from Arsenal the morning after leaving, who made a statement later that same day.

We deeply regret that we have to make this statement but unfortunately Y/n L/n has been let go from the Arsenal team due to conflict between players. We wish her the best wherever she ends up.

I spend a lot of time with Kristie or join Sam at training to avoid looking at the horrible things people are saying about me on my phone. Sam likes to claim it’s ‘to feel like I’m still playing’. It just makes me sad, which is why I had every intention of refusing her offer to go again today. Then she told me Emma wanted to talk to me about something.

“Why does Emma want to talk to me?” I poke Sam continuously as she leads me down the halls of Cobham.

“I have no clue.” The cheeky grin I’m very familiar with graces her face but it doesn’t hint at anything.

I push open the door and Emma directs me to sit down, which I don’t hesitate to do. Sam closes the door and leaves us to talk.

“I wanted to discuss your career’s future. You’ve spent a lot of time here with us after the situation, but have you received any offers from other clubs? What are your moves?”

“No. I haven’t received anything, no one wants to take the player who’s had a sex scandal. Not even in the Championship League.”

“Well obviously the transfer window doesn’t open until January, so it’s not on the table to bring you in as a player. But I was wondering, how do you feel about coaching. I’ve seen you give the younger players like Aggie tips, and she comes back onto the field much better, it’s clearly something you’re good at. Would it be something you’d look into doing?” I blink in shock as I try to process the question.

“Uh.. yes, yes absolutely I’d love to. I- I took the coaching courses over the break when I was out of the world cup on injury, so I’m fully qualified.”

“Well I’d love to have you on the coaching team. I’m looking for people to keep the players in line once I leave and I think someone who has played the recent developments in the game would be perfect. I have the contract ready for you to sign, right here, if you want.” She slides the paper over, and I read it over.

Am I really going to do this? Go to my clubs biggest rival? I could never make an appearance at Arsenal as a player or member of the team ever again. No one else wanted me. I couldn’t refuse the only offer I have.

“W- what about the leak? Aren’t I a liability?”

“We’re not stupid. They were personal photos between you and your wife. It’s not your fault and we know that. I want the best coaches for my team. And that’s you.”

Shock washes over the world of women’s football this week as Y/n L/n signs as an assistant coach alongside Emma Hayes at Chelsea. What does her wife, Arsenal and Australia’s star left back Steph Cately, think about this decision?

The day my signing is announced is the first time any of the Arsenal girls, including Steph, reach out to me.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ From Katie

‘Are you serious?’ From Caitlin and Kyra

‘I genuinely hope you’re happy there. You deserve the best and we couldn’t give it to you. I couldn’t give it to you. I love you and miss you. Maybe we could talk after the derby next weekend?’ I want so bad to leave Steph on read, but I can’t help but reply.

‘We’ll see. Love you’. Kristie takes my phone from me after that.

Training is odd. Being the one running it instead of participating. I like to join in on easy drills, bonding with some players, keeping fit and helping them understand how we want it done. A win-win-win if you will. Emma’s press conference before the game against Arsenal is when things get tense again.

“What effect do you think L/n on the Chelsea coaching staff will have on Arsenal, especially her wife Steph Cately? We haven’t seen them together in quite some time.” Some guy in the back of the room asks the question but it still rings in my ears as I hear it, Kristie watching the conference on her phone because Sam’s there.

“Well I don’t think it should have any effect on their players. Players have to compete against their former teammates all the time, whether as players or coaches. This should not be any different. They kicked her out, they made that decision. We gave her the option to come back into the game when no one else was willing to take that risk, and she’s made us better. As for Steph? I don’t know how she will react. She’s an incredible player, I’m sure she’ll be fine, but that’s none of my business.” I’m grateful for the way Emma stands up for me. She’s one of the few people I now trust with what’s going on behind the scenes of my life and marriage.

It's when we’re in the dugout, the players about to come out from the tunnel, when I begin to genuinely worry. I don’t want to put Steph off her game just by being here, but I’m not going to abandon the team that gave me everything when I had nothing. So I pull on my puffer coat, put in my ear piece, and take my spot next to Emma who puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me tight.

Yeah. I’ll be okay.

-

The game is rough, every time we score, Arsenal comes back with a matching goal. But they’re playing dirty. They’re making unnecessary tackles and getting yellow cards every other minute.

I laugh it off until Steph makes a challenge in the penalty box. Her leg stretches out in front of her, kicking the ball away from Fran’s feet, but she falls on a funny angle and doesn’t get back up.

I walk to the edge of the coach’s box, trying to get a better view as the medics run to her.

I tell myself she’ll be okay. She’s always okay.

The medics bring out a stretcher.

She’s not okay.

“Emma-”

“Go make sure she’s okay. We’ll be okay.” I follow closely behind the medics as they carry her down the tunnel and to the medical room.

I slide into the seat beside her as their team’s doctor checks on her knee, taking her hand in mine.

“You’re here.” She smiles gently at me, and I try not to cry. I haven’t seen her in so long.

“I’m here Stephy. I love you.”

“I miss you.” She pouts then grimaces as the doctor moves her knee.

“I miss you too. But-”

“But you can’t act like everything is fine unless I prove I trust you and regret what I did.” I nod solemnly.

“I promise I’ll prove it. Maybe you can come stay at home again. Just a couple times a week. We can have dinners and catch up. I miss the way you hold me.” She squeezes my hand as she waits for an answer.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can try that.” I press a kiss to her hand.

“But I’m staying at Chelsea. They treat me right here.” Steph pauses, but smiles.

“Rivalry could be good for us. You little Blue.”

It will be a long journey, but we’ll make it through.

[mivalyn]

~How the guys from Task Force 141 would react if they found you in the middle of a depressive episode~

• The moment Soap sees something’s wrong—your quietness, the mess, the dim room—he’s instantly worried but stays calm. He’ll approach gently, kneeling beside you. “Hey, love… what’s goin’ on? Talk to me.”

• If your place is messy or you’re not taking care of yourself, he won’t care. “None of that, bonnie. You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for.” His focus is you, not the state of things.

• He’ll bring you something easy—a glass of water, a piece of toast—and coax you softly. “Just one sip, yeah? For me?” When you manage even the smallest effort, he’ll praise you endlessly. “There we go. That’s my strong one.”

• Soap’s all about physical affection—he’ll hold you close, stroke your hair, rub your back. If you cry, he’ll press soft kisses to your hairline. “Let it out, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

• He’ll make sure you know this doesn’t make you weak or a burden. “You’re havin’ a tough time, and that’s alright. You’re still the most amazin’ person I know.”

• Once you’re settled, he’ll lighten the mood with silly stories or show you memes on his phone. “Look at this—Ghost sent it. Didn’t know he had a sense of humor, eh?”

• Soap will stay as long as you need, quietly looking after you—cleaning, cooking, or just sitting close. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. You’re not alone in this.”

• He’ll check in every day, celebrate even the smallest steps forward, and remind you constantly how much you mean to him. “One day at a time, bonnie. We’ve got this together.”

• Ghost picks up on the subtle changes immediately—the quietness, the way your space feels heavier than usual, how withdrawn you’ve become. He doesn’t call attention to it, but his concern is instant.

• He doesn’t barge in or overwhelm you. Instead, he sits down nearby, giving you space while making his presence known. His voice is calm and steady when he speaks. “You don’t have to say anything, love. I’m here. That’s all that matters right now.”

• Ghost makes sure you’re looked after without making you feel pressured. He’ll grab water, a piece of toast, or something easy to eat and set it beside you. “Just a little. You don’t have to finish it, but try, yeah? For me.”

• If you let him, Ghost will gently pull you into his arms, wrapping you in his solid warmth. His gloved hand strokes your back or hair in slow, soothing motions as he whispers, “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” If you cry, he holds you tighter, letting you let it all out without judgment.

• His words are soft but firm, cutting through the haze of doubt. “You’re not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone. I’ll remind you as many times as you need until you believe it.”

• Ghost is a man of action. He’ll quietly tidy up, fold blankets, or handle anything that feels overwhelming in your space. “This’ll help clear your head. Don’t worry about it—I’ve got it.”

• He knows this isn’t something that can be fixed overnight. He never rushes you or makes you feel like you’re failing. “One small step at a time, love. That’s all we need. No pressure.”

• Ghost stays with you as long as you need, sitting quietly if you want space or staying close if you need him near. He’s calm, grounding, and unwavering. “Whatever you’re fighting in your head, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

• Even after the initial moment, Ghost checks in regularly, making sure you’re cared for. Whether it’s a quiet walk, a meal, or just sitting in silence together, he’s there. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

• Price would immediately notice something’s off—the lack of energy, the silence, the heaviness in the air. But he wouldn’t rush to confront it. Instead, he’d quietly approach, his tone steady and calm, “You alright, love? Talk to me when you’re ready.”

• He’d let you have space but stay close enough to let you know he’s there. He’s not one for forced affection, but he’d sit beside you, his presence solid and comforting. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. Just here when you’re ready.”

• Price would take charge of the basics. If you haven’t eaten or drunk anything, he’d bring you something simple—a warm drink, a snack—and place it within reach, but never force you. “When you’re ready, just a sip. You need to stay strong, even if it’s hard.”

• If you allow it, Price would pull you into his arms, wrapping you securely. His hand would gently rub your back or your arm, providing steady comfort. “I’ve got you. No need to hold it in. Let me take some of the weight off your shoulders.”

• Price doesn’t sugarcoat things, but he has a way of speaking that’s firm yet kind. “This isn’t easy, I know. But you’re strong. You’ve been through worse, and you’ll get through this. I’m with you every step of the way.”

• Price knows not to push too hard, so if you’re ready for a change of pace, he’d try to distract you with light conversation or simple activities, like reading together or watching a movie. “I’m here to listen or just be quiet. Whatever you need.”

• He wouldn’t expect you to snap out of it. Instead, he’d offer his constant support, checking in with you regularly, offering patience when you need it, and never making you feel like you’re a burden. “It’s okay to not be okay. We’ll take this slow, no pressure.”

• Above all, Price’s loyalty would shine through. No matter how tough things get, he’s there, showing you that you don’t have to go through it alone. “You don’t have to fight this on your own, love. We’ll face it together, like we always do.”

• Gaz immediately picks up on your change in mood. He’s quick to approach, but never rushes you. “Hey, you okay? Talk to me, yeah?” His voice is gentle but filled with worry.

• He’ll give you space but stay close, offering his presence without overwhelming you. “I’m right here whenever you need me, no pressure.”

• If you’re not eating or drinking, Gaz will bring you something light, like tea or a snack, and place it in front of you. “You don’t have to eat it all, just a bit. I’ll be here.”

• Gaz will offer comforting touches, a hand on your back, or a light hug if you allow it. “You’re safe with me, yeah? I’ve got you.”

• He’s not one for overly serious words, but he’ll keep reminding you that you’re not alone. “You’re amazing, you know that? We’ll get through this. You’ve got this.”

• Gaz knows how to lighten the mood without pushing too hard. He’ll tell you funny stories, try to make you smile, or distract you with a game or something light-hearted. “How about a movie? No pressure, just some chill time.”

• Gaz doesn’t leave your side. He’s always checking in, quietly making sure you feel cared for. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m not going anywhere.”

[wcnderlnds]

sweater thief | colin zabel

✧ fluff/angstober day five | stealing sweaters ✧

・❥・warnings: none!・❥・ authors note: idk if i like this one but here we are anyway. it’s just a bunch of rambling im sry.

The annoying sound of the alarm from your phone rang out throughout your bedroom. With a groan, you rolled over, grabbing it and jamming your finger against the screen to press the snooze button. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. There was at least an hour before work started. One of the big pros of working from home meant that you didn’t have to get up and rush around – it was one of the reasons you’d taken the job in the first place. Other than being a homebody, the excuse of working in sweats and a comfortable shirt was incredibly appealing. The only times you really had to make an effort were the days you had to actually go into the office for a meeting. Those were your least favourite days. Thankfully, today wasn’t one of those days. Ten minutes must have passed quickly because the beeping sounded out through your room again.

“I’m getting up, shutup,” you mumbled to your phone, turning the alarm off. Your morning routine consisted of sitting in bed for at least ten more minutes contemplating if you really needed to get up then after that you hit the shower. So, you did just that.

With ten minutes to spare before your shift started, you headed into the main area of your apartment. It was open space so your office, living room and kitchen were all conjoined. Walking past your computer, your switched it on to give it time load up while you went to the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee. Thank God you had one of those instant coffee machines with the pods so all you had to do was grab one, shove it in the machine and press the button. Not only did it save time but it saved you a whole lot of effort.

Grabbing your finished coffee, you headed back to your computer. A shiver ran through you, the cold air of your apartment giving you goosebumps. As you passed the couch you noticed a sweater thrown on the back. It was black and definitely looked too big to be yours. You picked it up, smiling when you realised Colin must have left it last night. It still smelled of him. Placing your coffee down on your desk, you pulled the sweater on, snuggling into it and started your shift.

Lunch hour approached much too slowly for your liking but the second it hit, you were out the door and heading to the station to meet Colin. It was a daily routine of meeting him for lunch, especially on days when he had long shifts and you wouldn’t get to see him in the evening. As you walked through the station towards his office, you realised you still had his sweater on. Surely he wouldn’t mind.

The door to his office was open so you stepped inside. “Hey!”

Immediately, his head shot up at your voice, eyes wide when he noticed you were wearing his sweater. “…hi.” He was on his feet, his eyes still solely focused on you as he approached. “Is that my sweater?”

“Yeah. You left it at my place last night and I… figured you wouldn’t mind if I wore it.”

“No, no, not at all. In fact, I encourage you to wear more of my clothes. Heck, raid my whole closet if you’re gonna look this good.”

His compliment made your cheeks turn pink, heart fluttering. The way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world — it made you feel special. Colin always had that effect. He was just too perfect. This man could make you weak with simple words and looks. It still blew your mind how his ex-fiancée had randomly decided she didn’t love him one day. You were head over heels for him. Her loss was your gain.

“Yeah? Full permission?” Your arms wrapped around his neck as his came to rest on your hips pulling you into him.

“Mhm. Got me thinking all sorts of things right now,” he leaned in, lips ghosting over yours.

“Careful, Detective. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you see what’s underneath later but for now…” your lips met his in a soft, slow kiss. One of his hands slid up your back to tangle in your hair, holding you against him. A few minutes later, you pulled away. “Let’s go get lunch.”

taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @xmidnight-rain @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @juliamaximoff @honeymoon8 @evanpetersbf

[space-mermaid-writing]

Cuddles [Alpha!Loki / Omega!Reader]

Summary: Loki is surprised that you ask him for cuddles

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Word count: 0.9k

Author’s note: This is pure fluff

Cuddles

Loki has retired to the reading corner of the tower's library. It’s a slow day and he is minding his own business. People rarely linger in the library and that is one of the reasons why he likes this place.

So he is somewhat irritated when he notices a presence right next to the couch that won’t leave even after several minutes of ignoring. He looks up and over the top edge of his book.

You stand there watching him patiently with a blanket wrapped around you. When you see that you have his attention, you ask, “Uhm… are you open for cuddles?” Your voice is quiet, almost unsure. No wonder, since it’s the first time ever you’ve asked the alpha for this. Sure, you two are friendly with each other and as one of the few omegas of the team you’re probably closer to him than the others – except for his brother of course.

But fact is, Loki is a very private person and you respect that. So even to say that the both of you are friends may be a stretch. And you have never been touchy with him before. Until now…

Loki is certain that he misheard. Or maybe you think nobody else is available. Surely, you would prefer someone else! Therefore he helps you out by pointing out, “Rogers is upstairs watching a movie with the birdman.”

You just blink at him, not sure why he tells you this. “I know…?”

“… so, you don’t want to ask them?”

“I… no, I…” Suddenly uncertainty floods the air, while you take a step back. You feel rejected and decide to retreat, so you duck your head and mumble an apology. “Sorry, I’ll just go and-”

“No, wait,” Loki interrupts you, sitting up to reach out to you and stop you from leaving. He’s not used to being sought out for anything besides missions and the occasional polite invite for group activities.

But apparently you did know you have options and chose to come to him anyway. It is a surprise to him but not an unpleasant one.

You halfway turn you head back to him, ready to leave quickly at any point. Normally, you're very confident, but the few days before your heat have you always feel vulnerable, and asking the Asgardian out was out of your comfort zone. But you craved a calm presence like his. So you are waiting for his words.

Loki waits until you make eye contact. “I’m not opposed to cuddles if you want them.”

You scrunch your nose. While it’s not a rejection, you don't like the answer. “It’s okay to say ‘no’,” you tell him, a bit of your displeasure creeping into your voice. You’re annoyed about your own temper. “I don’t want to be in your way.”

“You won’t,” Loki reassures you with more emphasis and adds a soothing scent. “In fact I insist you stay here.” He pats on the cushion next to him on the couch.

Wary you glance from Loki to the space next to him and then right back to him. He seems honest enough, even though he is the god of lies. In the end the craving that brought you here in the first place wins and you tiptoe to him. The Asgardian lies back down and you arrange your body at his side.

Loki waits until you settle down, before raising his book to go back reading.

Cuddled to his side, you’re careful to still give him space which means that you keep your arms and legs carefully tucked close.

A few minutes go by but you’re not yet fully happy about it and you start wiggling and rearranging your blanket. You feel restless, readjusting several times and trying the new position for a few seconds before discarding it and turning again.

Loki lets you do your thing for a few minutes before he decides to step in. He puts his arm around you and pulls you even closer to him.

You inhale his scent that reminds you of fresh mint, parchment and maybe something else you can’t name yet. Closing your eyes you relax instantly. It also makes you stop fussing around and humming content.

You mumble into the fabric of Loki’s shirt, “Want some of my blanket?”

This time Loki does not hesitate to agree. He is proud that you consider him trustworthy enough to share something from your nest with him. “Yes, absolutely.”

Since his arm is still around you and he holds his book in his other one, he waits until you have arranged your blanket over him. His legs are too long and not completely covered, but he doesn't mind.

You’re completely happy to be surrounded by a mixture of his and your own scent. It’s perfect. Placing your head on his shoulder, your eyes drift to the book in his hands. It looks old and out of place with the almost parchment-like pages. You have never seen something like it before.

“What are you reading?”

“These are fairy tales from Vanaheim.”

That would explain it.

“Can you read it to me?” you ask him.

Loki paused. He is reluctant to turn down your request. “It’s not written in all-speak unfortunately. I’m not sure if I can translate it on the fly.”

“That’s fine. I just like hearing your voice.” You get a sniff of pleased alpha even though Loki tries not to show it too much. He starts reading out loud instead.

It’s a language you have never heard before, but it sounds pleasant. Although you’re pretty sure he could say anything and you would like the sound of it.

You close your eyes and concentrate on the alpha’s voice that you feel vibrating in his chest. You didn’t plan on falling asleep but you can’t help it. Slowly, your mind drifts off, purring happily.

You’re sure you only imagined the kiss gently pressed on top of your hair.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Love You (Always)

A/N: Heyyyyy this is for all my insecure girlies regardless of what type of body you have. All girlies can feel insecure at times even if you're a 00 or if you're a size 20. So here's a cute comforting fic for all of us ladies who need some extra confidence sometimes! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2,316 words Warnings: Mentions of insecurity, scrutinizing of one's own body, not necessarily an eating disorder, but themes/habits of disordered eating/limited eating, swearing, slight angst

You weren’t really a clingy kind of person, that’s probably how you and Gerard worked out so well. But right now, you were pretty sure you were watching every second until he got home.

You had spent a whole two days cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, making sure everything was set. You couldn’t believe you were going to admit it, but you were somehow nervous for his return. You hadn’t seen each other in months, talking over the phone was spontaneous at best, and he hadn’t been home since, well- you couldn’t remember, actually.

So maybe that’s why in your mind everything had to be perfect, because you weren’t sure what to expect. I mean, this could all simply explode in a minute, right? One small tap on the glass for it to shatter.

You paced around the room a bit, biting on your nail, something you never did, and awaited with baited breath and a thumping heart. He was your boyfriend of three years and you were somehow nervous to see him. It was like a date with a middle school crush but far worse because at the end of the day this actually mattered.

You could hear the door rumble a bit and swing open, looking up to be met with Gerard initially struggling with his bags a bit, but placing them down by the front with a sigh and looking up at you with a smile. You smiled back as he was the first to run up to you and give you a kiss. It wasn’t hectic or frantic just gentle and calm.

“Hi.” You finally said once he pulled away, meeting his eyes and he looked down at your with a smile.

“Hi.” He responded, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You smiled back. “I- um, do you need help with your bags?”

“Nah, I’ll get ‘em later.” He calmly shrugged, “Probably need a shower though-”

“Oh thank God you said it.” You let out a sigh of relief, “With as much respect as possible, you smell like shit.”

“Thanks.” He snorted, beginning to walk back to your shared room where the closet space was. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You took a deep gulp as he stepped out of the shower and you were able to finally notice his physique for the first time since being back. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, but his upper body was now structured with soft muscles on his arms and while he still had a bit of a belly (something you adored for whatever reason), he was much… thiner, than he was.

It didn’t shock you by any means considering he was practically getting a full blown workout for an hour a day in the hot sun while touring in the middle of summer. But it also didn’t help your own mental view of yourself.

You had always had this on and off again relationship with self love. Most of the time now, having matured and all and realizing how fake most bodies plastered on magazine pages were, you managed to actually find a lot of confidence in the way you looked. Sure, you were a bit chubby, some chunk on your arms, around your thighs and hips, a bigger belly than just the small one most women had, but you had managed to love the curves that came with it.

“Might as well take a picture.” You heard Gerard say and quickly looked to his face where he was smiling at you, realizing that you had been full blown staring for way too long. You couldn’t even respond, only looking away in complete embarrassment. “Oh c’mon baby,” He softly said, “You’re never speechless.”

He threw a shirt and sweatpants on before walking out to where you were laying on the bed, plopping down right next to you and letting his arms snake around your waist, squeezing you tight. As soon as he did though, and didn’t get your usual enthusiastic response since he knew you loved that move, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. “You okay?” He asked a bit more seriously despite you still facing away and not moving. “Did I say or do something, hon?” You shook your head silently. “What’s up?”

You tried to pull out of his grip, now being doubly embarrassed and therefore on the verge of tears, but it did not work with him at all. Damn, he had gotten stronger too. “Hon-” He tried to push a bit but was quickly stopped.

“Could you not?” You finally pushed back, turning over slightly to face him, his facial expressions quickly contorting from concern to shock. “I’m just not in the mood.” You sighed, getting up as he finally freed you from his grip. “And sorry for staring at you.” You mumbled, walking out of the bedroom and towards the main area leaving him completely dumbfounded.

What had he done in the 15 minutes he was home? Had he done something before and you were just being nice at first? Was he being too up front? Did you need more time to warm up again? Did he read something wrong?

The questions flooded his mind like an exploded dam as he sat up still confused but deciding to give you space and understanding intruding on your personal bubble right now would lead to way more harm than good. Maybe I should Google it or something- Google it Gerard? What are you thinking? Talk to your therapist but- damn, it’s like 9 pm don’t disturb him. Frank’s not bad with advice but he just got home too, Mikey maybe?

He wasn’t sure what to do because clearly, not obviously, like so blatantly, something was very, very wrong. But what was that thing? How did he fuck this all up so fast?

He was pondering his next plans of actions, because yes he would ideally like to sleep in a bed his first night being back in a while, but also the couch seemed like a more fitting punishment for whatever crime he had committed. But you were out there, and seemed like some form of distance at least temporarily seemed to fit the situation.

Finally, after some deep consideration, he figured it was best to just leave you alone and go to bed. If you wanted to come back, he would be on his side facing the other way, being sure not to disturb you. He turned off his side lamp and finally laid down, inevitably having to let the feeling that this was an issue for tomorrow settle on his turning stomach.

The next morning had started out usual for you. You had woken up, taken a shower, done your hair and skincare routine all within a time that Gerard had shockingly not woken up. You let him sleep extra knowing his sleep schedule on tour was never usual and getting anything more than four hours was a blessing, and also because of the little fit last night that you still were too embarrassed to address. Because how were you supposed to bring up your insecurities to your boyfriend without having to acknowledge them?

Just as you finished brushing your teeth you heard his footsteps pad through the bedroom and into the bathroom, where he quickly yawned from next to you in the mirror. “Morning, hon.” He said, his morning voice thicker than ever.

“Morning.” You replied, spitting out the last of your toothpaste, “How’d you sleep?”

“Well,” He said, grabbing his own toothbrush and stealing the tube of toothpaste from your side, “Much better than on the bus.” You lightly smiled at him.

“What d’you wanna do today?” You asked him, brushing your hair once last time. He shrugged.

“Not much, to be honest.” He said, “Maybe breakfast or lunch, then hang out around here. Just wanna be around you.” He smiled a bit, letting a some of the foamed tooth paste show in his mouth which you lightly giggled at.

“Sure,” You replied, “That sounds good.”

You quickly got dressed into leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. At least this would cover your stomach and thighs. The whole “staying in” plan for the day made it easier to justify the outfit and for him to hopefully think not much of it. “You ready?” He asked, walking to the edge of your closet as you nodded.

You grabbed your tote bag on your way out, locking the door behind you, and was quickly met with his hand engulfing yours as you entered the street. He gave it a little squeeze, something he knew you adored, and suddenly had a blush growing on your face.

Thankfully, having lived in New York a decent amount of time now, you had found local favorites that were easy to get into and always good. A diner down the corner was one of your favorites, and especially early in your relationship was a frequent place you would go each morning after he spent the night with you.

You had your usual orders: Gerard would go for pancakes and you would go for french toast, and then each of you would pick off of the others when you got sick of your own. It was almost part of the routine of days like today. That was why Gerard happened to be so off guard when you didn’t order your usual, I mean, you still ordered a regular plate of breakfast food, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns and all, but it wasn’t the usual thing.

He kept to himself a bit, eyeing you instead as each of you talked, and noticing slight body language queues of uncomfortability. He was still pondering last night, and the way you seemed to shrink yourself today didn’t give any indication that you were over whatever was bothering you from yesterday.

You didn’t comment or seem to mind when he took some of your food from your plate, but it made him feel a bit more guilty when you weren’t taking any from his.

“Want some?” He asked, motioning his head and silverware towards his plate. It was still half full of pancakes he has conservatively drenches with just enough syrup to your liking. Why did he have to be so perfect at all the wrong times?

You were tempted, but before your mind could even fathom the taste of his pancakes you remembered how you looked. And you lost all that appetite. You shook your head. “No, thank you.” You replied, taking a small nibble of your hashbrowns.

Gerard really didn’t want to ruin breakfast, but he was also confused, and turning slightly anxious by the moment. You had always enjoyed food, he loved that about you. You were never afraid to try anything new, and the look on your face when you ate your favorite meals was always so genuine and happy. Today it looked just painful.

“Sweetheart,” he spoked up after a moment. You looked up at him. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

He wasn’t sure now why he has asked it, seeing your eyes immediately fill with tears and your poor attempt at try to prevent your face from going sour. “Shit.” He muttered to himself, putting his silverware down, and using his free hand to grab yours from across the table.

“I’m just-“ You spoke, with a shaky voice and slow tear trailing down your cheek. You took your free hand and used the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe it off. “It’s so stupid.”

“Honey, whatever you’re feeling is never stupid.” He told you, his face having melted into a puddle of concern. “I’m here to listen, always. You can always tell me anything and everything.”

“I know.” You sniffled a little, taking a deep breath. “Just- seeing you come home and you’ve- you’ve, I don’t know, lost some weight- and you look great! Don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t know why you want me when I look like this and you-“

“Stop.” He said before you could even finish your sentence. You looked up at him with some worry as he sighed. “To begin with, I love your body. I’ve always found you incredibly sexy, and will always think you’re gorgeous even when we’re 80.” He said, “Next, even if your body changes at all, it will never make me stop loving you. I don’t love you just for your body, it’s a wonderful perk you happen to have, but I will always love you for you.” He sighed, “And finally, even if you did gain weight, or your weight shifted to other places, that’s just more of you to love. There is zero downside to that.”

You took a few moments considering his words. “Thanks.” You replied simply, feeling a little more calm but guilty for allowing your feelings to ruin his first day back. “Sorry for-“

“No apologizing for your feelings.” He said again, squeezing your hand. “I love you, and I will always be here to listen to you. Never feel guilty for feeling one way or another, okay?” You nodded. “Now, do you want some of my pancakes.”

You took a deep sigh of defeat. “Yeah.” He smirked, pushing the plate halfway across the table as you removed your hands from each other to go back to holding your silverware.

You took a pretty decent amount, stabbing with your fork and ferociously cutting with your knife. “Fuck these are good.” You grumbled, halfway done chewing them. He chuckled.

“Have as many as you want.” He softly smiled. 
“I regret not getting the french toast.” You admitted with a small cringe. “We always share it.”

“You wanna get it to go? We can keep it as a late night snack for later.” You took a moment contemplating his suggestion with a growing smile. You nodded. “Extra strawberries?” He asked with a knowing smile.

“Always.”

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in *gender neutral version*

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your backpack. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, love. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, backpack strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still mine.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

—

someone requested gender neutral so i hope i did you justice! i consider dove, love, lovie, and baby to be gn so i didn’t change them if you were wondering

[anemhoez]

Desire…(pt 2)

Scar/AFAB Reader!

A/N: so this was in my drafts for a bit and just needed to be proofread 🤭 oops im so sorry i became a hard ATINY and now my life revolves around those 8 queers 🥴 hope you all enjoy and let me know when Scar comes back i havent touched WuWa since 🙄 feel free to read part 1 here hehe

WARNINGS: language, unprotected sex, monster fucking 👀

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Upon finally entering his room, Scar let you down onto your feet and gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Welcome home doll.” he said softly. You looked around the room, taking in everything all at once and learning the kind of person he was behind closed doors. It was all, surprisingly normal looking. The room was large enough to have two separate spaces. There was a section for his bed, ornate and comfortable looking, and a section for lounging where he had a computer set up. Aside from the shockingly bright red walls, there really wasn’t much to say about it. “And here I thought you’d have people chained up and begging for their lives.”

Scar emerged from a door you assumed led to the bathroom since you could hear water running in the background. “That’s what the dungeon is for, maybe I’ll show it to you one day.” he said and reached out to you. You took his hand and he led you to the bathroom, which had the same red walls but there were accents of black and gold that caught your eye. He sat on the edge of the onyx colored bathtub, observing the way you looked around at everything. “Im a little offended you think i would live like some kind of barbarian, Rover.” he said crossing his arms over his chest. You giggled and turned to look at him, “Sorry it’s just, I’m glad I won’t have to change much, I like your taste.” you said as you put both hands on his cheeks. You squished his face and leaned in to kiss him but he pulled back. “Who said you’re even allowed to touch anything?” You don’t know why you thought everything he did was so cute, but the way he spoke through his squished cheeks was just so endearing. “Blah blah blah,” you teased and pulled him into that kiss you wanted. He pulled you closer, intensifying the kiss and squeezing your rear. Now you were the one to pull away from him, finally removing your shoes and stockings. He stood up and stopped the running water and added some sweet smelling soap. He helped you get in the tub, making eye contact with you as he removed his own shoes and pants.

You finally got a good look at his dick, at full mast by now after all of the teasing the two of you were doing. And it was just as impressive as you expected, long and thick with a delicious looking curve that caused a pang in your gut once you saw it. He saw you eyeing him and reached for it, tugging on it hard. You made eye contact with him and pointed to your mouth in a cute way that made him smile. He prodded at your mouth, moaning as he felt the warmth and wetness once you took him in. “Who am i kidding, you can do whatever the fuck you want,” he huffed and took the back of your head with both hands and pushed you even further onto him. You gagged hard and looked up at him, his smile widening mischievously, pulling out so you could catch your breath. “You’ll get used to it, promise.” he said and leaned down to give you a kiss.

He then stepped into the tub, sitting down across from you, leaning back on the rim of the tub. “Feels so good to be home, that prison was so dull, if you hadn’t gotten me out of there when you did, I’m not sure what i’d have done.” You grabbed the nearby wash cloth and dunked it into the water, letting the soapy suds soak into it. You began scrubbing him, starting with his neck and chest. “I’m sure someone would have shown up, and given us quite the fight.” As you scrubbed his skin, the scars on his body almost looked red due to the warm water. You couldn’t help but admire his body, muscular yet lean and littered with scars that each held a story to tell. “I told them that once i was caught to not bother coming for me, a part of me felt like there was no way they could win against you,” your hands slipped into the water and began scrubbing his stomach and thighs. “I really was banking my fate on you,” he said softly, taking you by the chin to look into your eyes. “How did you know that i’d choose you?” He smiled and pulled you closer, “The day in that clearing, when i told you that story, you were so interested in finding out the truth,” you moved with him as he pulled your face closer to his, your cunt brushing against his stiff cock as you now straddled him. “Your curiosity to learn everything they’ve been lying to you about, I knew youd want to know more, and getting you like this,” he kissed you as he prodded at your entrance, lazily grinding up against you, “is a bonus, I mean I’m good but I didn’t know i was that good,” he laughed at himself, patting himself on the back for getting someone as lovely as you on his side, and in his bed.

“Quite the gamble,” you said and reached down, taking the base of his cock and lining him up with your waiting cunt. “So impatient,” he said as he watched you, and reached down to stop you from sinking down on him by holding your thigh with one hand, while the other grabbed his cock. He rubbed his tip against your folds, “You think you’re gonna get what you want that easily?” he chuckled darkly and moved you so that you could sit with your back pressed against his chest. You audibly whined, “You are as evil as they say!” you teased and he just laughed. He grabbed some soap and began cleansing your body, trailing the soap down your front, “Come now, I want to help clean up the mess I made,” he kissed your cheek playfully while you seethed.

Once the two of you finished washing up your need was still as hot as ever, now hating how he laughed at you as you began getting bratty with him. But almost as if he felt your desire, the second he helped you stand on the plush bath mat, he lifted you up, and finally stuffed you full of his cock in one swift motion. “Scar!” you yelped out, your wet hands gripping for purchase on his back. He knew exactly how to get to you already, making you realize just how your lives together would play out from now own. You held onto him, the cool air pricked at your slicked skin as he walked you to his bed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his dick so deep inside of you, you were sure you felt him in your gut. You tried moving up on him but he held you down firmly and scoffed. “Needy little slut,” his words made you clench down on him even harder, your pussy was aching at this point. “Asshole,” you hissed suddenly, the surprised look on his face threatening to make you giggle through your fake annoyance. “Did you bring me back to fuck me or just tease me?” you tried wiggling out of his grasp, pushing against his chest as you tried to stand. “I’ll just finish myself off-ahh!” you yelped as he gripped you even tighter, his fingernails had turned to claws during your attempt at defiance. Scar dragged his claws up your back, “Fuck I didn’t think you had it in you,” you finally started to ride him slowly, his thick cock molding agsinst your waitibg walls. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?” you huffed against his lips, letting out a small moan as he bucked up against you. “You’re worried I’ll get hurt, right?” you took his face in your hands, kissing his lips breathlessly as you chased your release. “Yes,” he sighed holding you even closer, his hands now resting at your rear. “I can handle it Scar, please don’t hold back.” your voice was a whisper in his ears now, pleading for him to let go and be himself with you.

He growled, the tightness of your walls against him driving him to finally let go. His eyes glowed red and his horns appeared on his forehead. They twisted at the tips as he stared at you, a wicked smile on his face. You reached for his horns, and pulled him into a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. He lifted you up as he stood and maneuvered your body swiftly so that you were on your back. But you immediately turned so that you were on your knees, “Come on then,” you perked your ass up to him and you could see the way his eyes flashed. Scar buried himself into you once again, his claws digging into the flesh of your ass, “Rover, you better tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he said with a moan as he felt your tightness around him. You just nodded quickly, bucking back up against him as you craved more of him. His pace quickened, his hips smacking into yours loudly, any mystery of what was happening in here lost due to the lewd sounds the two of you were making. Gods you hated how good his dick felt, already knowing you’d be addicted to it after this. You were certain you’d be begging him to fuck you wherever and whenever you wanted from now on. He pressed down on the small of your back, your body sinking onto the bed and resting on your arms and cheek. The harder he fucked you, the more you felt your peak nearing, accompanied by a slight pain. But you didn’t stop him like he told you to, you didnt want the onslaught of the most intense pleasure you ever felt to stop. Not only that, you were sure you couldn’t even speak a coherent sentence with the whiny babbles that were dripoung from your lips as he pistoned into you. Scar leaned down, “Perfect little rover, all mine.” he moaned out and licked your cheek, trailing a path to your neck. He kissed and sucked marks onto your back and once he was done, he caged your body between his arms. He fucked you into the mattress mercilessly, tears forming at the corner of your eyes at the pleasure and you buried your face into the sheets, quieting the scream that signaled your climax. “Yes, fuck don’t stop!” you begged as you clenched around him, feeling another orgasm incoming. Scar didnt let up, loud grunts coming from deep in his thtoat as he threw his head back, “Gods,” he sighed and thrust against you as hard as he could, bringing the both of you to climax. You writhed on his twitching cock that filled you with his hot seed, finally unclenching your jaw and letting go of the sheets. He kissed the back of your neck, “I really fucking like you, doll.” he chuckled against you before pulling out. He watched his release drip out of your spent and swollen pussy, “You alright?“ You moved to sit up, wiping at you eyes “I’m fine Scar,” you spoke softly, looking at him with tired fucked out eyes. You reached for him and he smiled, moving closer to cuddle you.

The two of you lay next to one another chatting about your new life together and getting to know one another better. He kissed and soothed you, reassuring you with kind words about how he’d never betray you. “You can trust me,” his voice was soft as he spoke, pulling you even closer to him by your leg. You winced and let out a small sigh from the pain, “I told you to tell me if it hurt,” he said rolling his eyes at you. You snuggled closer to him, “I know but it felt so good, I wasn’t about to stop you.” you kissed his chest to reassure him you were going to be fine. Scar growled in defiance but still kissed your forehead, despite you disobeying him. The rest of the night was spent with him praising you and thanking you for choosing him, his stamina unlike anything else you’ve experienced as he pleasured you over and over again.

A/N: PLEASE LET ME CHOOSE HIM!!!!! I WANT ONLY HIM!!! ugh!!! i dont wanna feel good i wanna feel evil and fuck the hot villain 🥲

[mikanotes]

my love, mine all mine

xiao x gn!reader — 1.5k words.

genre: angst, comfort, not at all established relationship but the feelings are there

warnings: mentions of death, implied (kinda) stalking (nothing bad), reader is not the traveler (reader is never the traveler with me)

synopsis: Xiao struggles and attempts to understand why he shouldn't constantly be watching over you.

author's note: no way i'm back? that's crazy

Xiao doesn’t believe it’s odd to make sure the only person he truly cares for is doing well at all times.

“You’ve been following me.” you say, and there’s an accusatory edge to your voice despite the calmness of it. Xiao feels it cut his skin. It’s uncomfortable enough to make him rethink his choices for a second.

But he doesn’t understand. “No.” he states, flat. It’s a blatant lie but the tone of your voice makes him feel like he shouldn’t be completely honest, right now. “I come when you call my name. As we agreed.” he adds, for good measure.

You tilt your head to the side, eyes never leaving his. It’s like you’re trying to read him. No matter how nervous it makes him feel, he’s certain his gaze does not betray him. He looks as uninterested as he usually does. And surely, you sigh and return to your original position, seemingly a bit confused.

“That isn’t true.”

Xiao gulps. He furrows his eyebrows, features pulling into a slight scowl. His expression urges for further explanation.

“I mean,” you sigh, crossing your arms. Your eyes move elsewhere as you think. “You’ve come to help me several times before, without me even calling your name. There’s no point in denying that.”

“I was nearby.” he counters, “Should I just ignore you, then?” his voice turns to a scoff, now. He’s annoyed. Or just trying to cover anxiousness.

“Xiao.” you say, and your voice is soft but it sounds like a warning. “Let’s not do this. Just be honest with me. You’re following me.”

He looks away, his expression faltering. He looks more upset than irritated, now. The crowds of people walking around Liyue Harbor are a dull noise background to this scene. He wishes it was less full of people, more peaceful— Though you’re standing near the entrance gate, and it’s much quieter there. He wants time and space and silence to process his thoughts, and yours, and his emotions, and yours. He’s not usually this picky, but he wants to understand properly.

He just needs to make sure you’re okay. He has the ability to do so whenever he isn’t busy, so he figures he should. But the way you’re talking about this makes him think this isn’t considered regular behavior to… Normal people.

He thinks about the best way to word this before he speaks. It takes a while.

“… I don’t want to lose you.” he almost whispers, voice so soft it could easily be lost to the noise in the background. He doesn’t meet your gaze, no matter how persistent it is. He wants to say why, he wants to insist that he just needs you to be safe, wants to tell you that he’d be willing to spend every second of his life making sure you’re alright if he had the time—

“I’ll quit watching over you so much if you really dislike it.” — He settles for this. After all, he shouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries. But he’s unfamiliar with humans. He’s not used to what is too much, and the opposite. When it comes to you, it gets so much worse. He’s never cared this much— Not in centuries, probably not ever.

“I can take care of myself.”

Xiao almost feels angry, and it shows in his eyes when he looks back up at you. “You’re mortal.”

You give him a look. “And I’m alive. I can take care of myself.”

“And you could die.”

“So could you.”

Xiao stammers slightly and looks away, closing his lips. He wants to say you’re not half as careful as he is, but it just isn’t true. There’s no excuses to use. He sighs sharply, before bringing his gaze back up to you. “Your point being?”

“That I don’t want you to die, either.” you exhale, eyes a bit wide. “I care about you and I want you to be safe— Hell, Xiao, you have no idea what it’s like watching you suffer so much and stay unable to do a single thing about it. I can’t help you, and I can’t even tell you to take a rest, because you’re terribly stubborn. It’s frustrating. And yet I go on with my life, because I have to.”

The wind blows. It’s cold.

He cannot count the times he’s watched the anxiety in your eyes each time he would come back to Wangshu Inn with more injuries than usual. He usually tries not to think about it, about how dismissive he tends to be of your own worries. Though now it feels like a slap in the face. What right does he have to insist on worrying so much when he doesn’t even let you? Still.

Xiao listens to every word and stares at you wide-eyed, before looking at the background. The lanterns are lit and the people of Liyue go on with their lives. They all have their worries, all have people they hold dear, and they go on with their lives. So do you.

“I’m an Adeptus. Unlike you, I have time to spend. Time to kill.” he says simply, “I’m willing to spend it on you. I don’t care if it’s a waste.”

“You can’t devote yourself to me.” you scoff, and it sounds like it should be a joke.

“I can, and I will. If you allow me.”

You look back at him and your expression’s unreadable. It softened, but Xiao cannot tell what you’re feeling. At all.

“… And I won’t, if you insist.” he adds slowly, tone careful.

A long silence follows, and it’s hard for Xiao to tell what’s on your mind. He feels like he hasn’t felt this scared in a long while, and it feels ridiculous. He fights deadly creatures from the Abyss every day and night, yet he’s never felt his heart beat so painfully against his ribcage. No, not even the events of his self-sacrifice and the certainty of what should have been his own death made him feel this way.

He doesn’t like feeling anxious around the person he considers more important than life itself— Though he supposes it just goes to show how important you are. Otherwise, he would not even bother caring.

“No one enjoys being followed. Just come see me as you normally would.” you finally say, and there’s a small smile on your face. Xiao doesn’t know humans well, but he knows you. And he can tell at the very least that you have no intention to tell him to never see you again— That you hold no ill feelings towards him. You’re not angry, thank the Archons.

He breathes out quietly, relieved, and nods slowly. “Then I’ll stop.” he speaks with certainty. He will. He will stop. He’ll… Shorten his visits. Make them less frequent. Make himself known, like you said. 

Maybe just… Go to you and ask to spend time together. Is that what’s normal? He figures it is.

His gaze wanders to your hand and he suddenly grabs your wrist, gentle, but firm enough to pull you along with him. He hears you yelp in surprise but walks all the way outside the gates of Liyue Harbor.

He stops at a familiar spot and sighs. There, all he hears is the sound of the sea, and all that is alive is you, him, and the nature around. 

There, he feels more at ease. So his hand slips down from your wrist to your own hand, fingers wrapping around yours carefully. It isn’t the first time your hands intertwine, and Xiao prays each time that it’ll never be the last. There’s times you tell him the way he looks at your hands is the way a lover does. Xiao does not know love. He doesn’t care about a name to put on what you two have, either.

He looks up at you. “Always be careful.” he says, eyebrows furrowing— I won’t be there as much, then be careful so I’ll know I don’t need to worry.

He just knows he needs to be there for you. Always.

You wrap your arms around him slowly, setting your chin on his shoulder. Xiao closes his eyes and feels himself relax into your hold. His hands move to hold you, as careful as usual. He needs to die like this, he thinks, that’s the only good way to go. No heaven would dare compare to this.

“Please.” he adds, quieter. His voice almost sounds shaky, and he doesn’t even realize the word that slipped out. But he feels you nod against his neck.

“I’ll be careful.”

Xiao feels vulnerable in your hold. Weak. It’s something he would usually hate, but not when he’s around you. When you’re here, the feeling is warm, and comforting— It’s like he can finally allow himself rest.

Zhongli says home is where you can let your guard down. It’s a safe space. Xiao understands his home is not a place, but a person— his home is you. And he will always do anything in his power to ensure its safety. So his hold on you tightens, like a silent promise to do all that he can to ensure your wellbeing.

After all, you’re more important than anything else.

“Xiao.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s stay like this for a while longer.”

“… Okay.”

Tales could be written about the unusually soft smiles of the Conqueror of Demons, about his love for a human being so much more important than the world itself. Alas, none will know about it, for you keep all these stories to yourselves.

[literary-motif]

Hiii! You're writing is so beautiful! :D I was wondering if you could write an NSFW with Isaac, where Pickle is a bit inexperienced... Like-- a more fluffy and romantic NSFW! To see Isaac being all gentle and comforting! :D

Inexperienced (NSFW)

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

“We can go slow, there’s no rush,” Isaac murmured against your head, holding you in his arms as you both lay on top of the covers of your shared bed. 

The last case had been particularly stressful, and now that you had cracked it, cuddling in bed had seemed like a perfect way to unwind. The slow kisses had turned more heated with time, and as Isaac slipped his hand lower until it rested against your lower back, pressing you further against his chest, your heart began hammering in your ribcage. 

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he said, kissing your forehead and loosening his embrace to give you more space, not wanting you to feel trapped. 

You chuckled, unable to fight the smile spreading across your face at his gentleness. Isaac was always very attentive, picking up on your changing mood or expressions almost instantly. It was what made him such a good Private Investigator, you reasoned. He knew you were nervous.

Still, there was no person in the world you trusted more than Isaac, and you were more than willing to give yourself to him completely. “It’s fine, I want to,” you said, rolling half on top of him to place a kiss against his lips. “Just be gentle, please.”

Isaac smiled at you fondly, kissing your cheek before propping himself up on his elbows and flipping you over, pinning you down and making you chuckle in surprise. “Always, Pickle,” he assured you, beginning to unbutton your shirt and making sure to kiss every inch of your exposed skin before moving on to the next button.

The slow descent of his lips made you gasp quietly, desire building within you as Isaac moved lower. You buried a hand in his hair, brushing through it gently. He hummed in contentment, looking up at you through his eyelashes as he placed another kiss against your lower stomach. 

“You’re very pretty,” you told him as Isaac took his time undoing your pants, brushing over your clothed thighs first and caressing your calves. Your words made a faint blush appear on his cheeks, and he only smiled appreciatively at you, hiding his sudden shyness by pulling your pants off of you. 

“Well, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said when you were both naked, his gaze roaming over your body, from your spread legs to your slightly swollen lips. 

“Shut up,” you said playfully to hide the nervousness you felt at being so exposed. You squirmed, trying to get comfortable and relax on your back. Seeing Isaac half-hard before you, kneeling between your legs, made a burning desire shoot through you, but it also made you feel incredibly out of your depth.

“Are you alright, Pickle?” he asked, brows furrowed in concern as he watched you shift restlessly. “Do you want to stop?” He raised his hand to your cheek, brushing strands of hair from your face. 

“No, just—” you answered immediately, gaze flickering from his cock to his eyes. “I don’t really know what to do.”

Isaac’s gaze softened, and he broke into a gentle smile, cupping your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you. “That’s alright, I’ll guide you through it.”

He began by peppering kisses across your chest, making you sigh and ache for his touch to give you even more pleasure. Isaac took his time, working you up until you were panting.

“How would you like it?” he asked, caressing your stomach. His cock was leaking, painfully hard, and yearning to be touched. “On your back? On your stomach?”

“I—” you hesitated, the pictures of you spread out before him flashing through your mind. How would it feel to have him plunging inside you from behind, ass up with your head buried in the pillows? How would he look when he came above you, caressing your chest and leaning down to kiss you when you came undone? “On my back.”

With a low chuckle, Isaac positioned himself between your legs. “Good. That means I can see you,” he said, brushing your entrance with his cock. “I’m going to put it in now, alright?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, grabbing the sheets to prepare yourself. “Go slow, please.” 

There was a twinge of uncertainty in your voice, and Isaac caught onto it immediately. “We can stop anytime,” he said, moving a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. No matter how aroused he was, his attentiveness never wavered, and his heart ached at the thought that he had somehow made you uncomfortable. 

“No, please,” you answered, moving your hands over his chest, trailing them over his stomach and thighs before they came to rest against his hips, pulling him towards you to press his hard cock against your hole again. “I want to, I do. Just nervous. Go ahead, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Isaac, please.” 

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you and swallow your moan as his tip pushed inside you. Neither of you moved as you struggled to take him in, walls clenching around his cock as it stretched you out.

Isaac was panting as much as you, nearly coming undone at simply being inside you, feeling your heat around his most sensitive part. 

Slowly, you rolled your hips to push him in further, taking more of his cock. “You— you can move now, Isaac,” you breathed, your hands finding his as he pushed deeper, squeezing them tightly when he filled you to the brim. 

When he was buried to the hilt, he started thrusting slowly, raising your hands to his lips to kiss them. “I love you,” he murmured against them, keeping his gaze on your face. Your eyes were shut, brow furrowed in pleasure. “You’re doing so well, taking me so well.”

You could only moan, squeezing his hand as he picked up the pace. Your breath stuttered when he changed the angle, pinning your hands down on either side of your head as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours. 

The new position allowed his cock to push deeper, and you could feel the pleasure quickly rising as he snapped his hips with growing intensity. Isaac kissed you, swallowing your whines and whimpers as his tongue explored your mouth, never faltering in his pace. 

Your back arched suddenly, Isaac reaching a spot inside you that made you tremble. 

“There?” he asked huskily, groaning as he struggled to keep his rhythm, “That felt good, yeah? Think you can come yet?” The broken moan coming from your lips as he hit that spot again and again, was answer enough. 

You came with a cry, gripping Isaac’s hands tightly. He came soon after with you clenching around him, squeezing his cock dry. 

With a soft groan, he rolled off of you, gathering you in his arms as you both caught your breath. “How do you feel?” he asked, brushing a hand through your hair while you nuzzled into his chest.

“Sleepy,” you said, fighting against the gentle exhaustion trying to pull you under. 

Isaac chuckled, placing a kiss against the top of your head. “It’s alright, take your time. I’ll run a bath in a minute.”