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#he isn't cold-hearted by any means
mylonelydreaming · 1 year
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Botw Link is a medieval knight so ofc he kills people. It's in his job description. He even canonically did kill a guy in front of Zelda totally unfazed. He might be babygirl, but he'd still put a sword through me If I looked at Zelda wrong and I'd thank him for it.
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elytrafemme · 1 year
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today might be a lyric posting on main kinda day
#nightmare.personal#GF said she was excited to see me later and sent me a heart and a smiley emoji#and it's the PINK hearts which I think in her heart rankings I learned last May that's a good thing?#but maybe purple is better but like why would she make me the worse one compared to what she made my ex#that doesn't make any sense also did i mention that my ex's first kiss i think was with my current girlfriend#i feel like this is some ruse but i was the one who pitched the date so nothing bad is going to happen but i don't think she likes me?#like i don't think my girlfriend actually likes me because i haven't seen her in forever#like i didn't see her at ALL yesterday and i mean i had to mediate an argument with her and my other friend#and that was like a week ago and we definitely spoke after that but i think she still remembers#and i HAVE to look good today but it's really cold outside so i don't know how to impress her#because I don't know what traits about me that she actually LIKES and that's like so difficult?#because I don't know what i need to play up to get her to really like me she isn't giving me ANYTHING#does she think i'm attractive? does she think i'm smart? does she think i'm kind? like WHAT IS IT.#because if i don't KNOW then i have to just be me and that's not going to work!#dating is so fucking difficult what the hell i'm going to explode#maybe I do my makeup today OOH I COULD PAINT MY NAILS#maybe that iwll make me better#no but then i have to hide the nails from my mom God dammit.#oh and i can't listen to music because my brother wants me to change my spotify username!!!#so if he sees me listening! he'll know i haven't! but i also don't think he follows me?#i don't think i like my brother very much#i keep trying to decide if there's something wrong with me and honestly i'm not so sure i think there isn't#but the fact i said that will make you think there is so there's no point anyway
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buckyalpine · 5 months
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you know what I live for? Misunderstandings. Angst. Fluff.
You bit your lip hearing Bucky's conversation with his two closest friends, the three men sitting together in the living room. It clearly wasn't a conversation for anyone else's ears but you couldn't move from the spot you were glued to.
“I-I think I should tell y/n” Bucky sighed, pacing up and down the living room while Sam and Steve were silently judging the super soldier.
"Seriously? This little affair still going on?" Sam shook his head while Bucky gave him a small nod.
“I really like her” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers.
“Well you got tell her, no point keeping it to yourself at this point, she deserves to know. It's been going on for long enough Buck” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.
“She makes me feel safe. It’s different. I love y/n, but-" Bucky flopped onto the couch, staring up a the ridiculously high ceiling.
“But?”
“This-this is different. I-I think I love her-”
“Do you hear yourself right now” Sam said incredulously, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for him, "You brought this on yourself so deal with it"
“I know” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just-you should see the way she looks at me, her eyes, I didn't mean for it to get this far-
"Save it. Tell y/n" Steve stated, not willing for any of this to go on any longer. This wasn't the first time his bestfriend brought up this topic and he was certain it wouldn't be the last unless Bucky came clean.
You hadn't even realized you'd started crying until you struggled to choke back a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth and running off to your room instead. Bucky frowned at the soft sniffle he thought he heard, craning his neck to see an empty hallway.
"Did you hear that?" He turned to Steve who shared the same look of concern. "Fuck, do you think that was y/n?" His heart raced further, desperately wanting to run over to you, looking at the clock and realizing it was also time for him to see her. As much as he loved you, he had to go to her first.
He didn't have a choice.
-
A soft knock at the door pulled you from your misery, your boyfriends pleading voice muffled on the other side.
"Baby?" Bucky knocked again, desperately hoping you'd let him in and give him a chance to explain himself. He never intended for any of this to happen. He finally decided to let himself in, opening the door, his heart dropping seeing your sad, pouty face, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He knew you'd overheard him so there was no point in hiding anything anymore.
"This isn't how I wanted you to find out" Bucky spoke softly, shuffling at the door, guilt plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. Before you could say anything, he shifted closer to you, nervously biting his lip.
"Her name is Alpine" Tucked into the crook of his arm was a tiny white kitten no more than a few weeks old, happily cuddled into the warmth of his chest. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, blinking slowly while he cooed, seeing she was up from her nap.
"This is who you were talking to Sam and Steve about?" You asked nervously while Bucky sheepishly nodded, giving you an apologetic smile for his dramatics.
"I've been taking care of her. I know we're not allowed to have pets but I couldn't just leave her there in the cold" Bucky whispered, petting her small head with his finger while she batted at his tags. You giggled at how soft your boyfriend was for the tiny kitten, the furbaby having him wrapped around her little paws.
"I found her while I was out on a run, she was by one of the bushes. I don't think her mom came back for her, she was alone. She was so tiny, she would've died" Bucky felt his throat tighten, remembering the day he'd heard her cries from the garden, her tiny form fitting into the palm of his hand. She'd been days old, waiting for someone to find her.
"I've been feeding her every couple hours, got a box set up by the bush with some blankets but she can't stay there forever. Steve caught me checking on her a few days ago" Bucky looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping you'd understand what he was asking.
"Is this where you've been running off to?" You shook your head while he smiled down at the kitten, proud of how much she'd grown.
"Can we keep her? I don't to put her in a shelter, she'll be scared and she just got comfortable letting me hold her, I don't want her to feel abandoned-"
"We'll keep her. Let's talk to Tony tomorrow" You hushed your boyfriends nervous rambling with a soft kiss to his sweet lips, rubbing your thumb along his jaw.
"Really?" His eyes lit up, bright and blue, matching the baby that stole his heart.
"Really, you big softie" You teased, loving your teddybear of a boyfriend.
"I'm sorry I worried you" Bucky whispered, pulling you to sit in his lap, his two favorite girls cuddling into him.
-
"He finally came clean" Sam snorted, seeing you and Bucky sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of cat toys, with a blur of white fur jumping between the two of you. "How'd you convince Stark"
"Didn't take much to be honest" you giggled; Tony tried to put up a stoic front, melted instantly as soon as Alpine crawled up his leg, purring into the crook of his neck. "He bought her a heated cat bed and automatic food dispenser"
Alpine stretched across the warm giant couch, curling up under a patch of sun while Bucky looked at her with hearteyes.
"I have competition with a cat" You playfully frowned while Bucky shook his head, scooping you into his arms immediately.
"Never babydoll, you're my everything"
I thought I overheard you saying she's different" You nudged him while he tried to defend himself again, only to fail miserably.
"He's lying y/n, he talked about her eyes and the way she looks at him" Sam chimed in, while Bucky hid himself into the crook of your neck. "And how he thinks he loves her"
"Shut up Sam"
"Such a softie"
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luveline · 5 months
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i just bought the actual cutest spider-man hoodie and now i’m thinking about peter seeing reader wearing spider-man merch !!! <333
The thwack is telling. You hear the splat and your heart jumps out of your chest, that weird wet sound against red-brick wall, and then you realise what it means and start to panic. 
“Hey, woah woah woah!” Peter says, jimmying open your bum window with a too-strong hand. “It's just me, don't panic.” 
You clamber off of the desk chair you're in and rush into the bathroom. 
“Hello?” 
“Two seconds!” you shout, closing the door hard behind you. You can hear the light pad of Peter's footsteps on the floor from the window, but after that he must disguise the weight of them, and you're doubly startled by his knock. “Two seconds, Peter.” 
“Uh… no?” 
You look around frantically. “What do you mean, no?” 
“You're freaking out? Let me in? Like, right now?” 
“None of those were questions.” 
Peter starts to rattle your door handle. “I'll break it!” he threatens, his voice in that funny place where he's joking but not, the same tone he uses to mess with bad guys who underestimate him. You're being teased. 
You pull your shirt over your head just as he opens the door. “Hey, turns out it wasn't locked.” He blinks at you. “Um. Hello to you, too? This isn't the welcome I was expecting.” 
“Cut the smarm. I got, uh. Soup on me.” 
“Soup.” 
You nod fiercely. “So much soup.” 
“You know I'd smell it, right?” he asks, his hair damp with sweat, the mask stuffed in the pocket of his suit and threatening to fall out as he grabs your shirt. His reflexes are too fast to stop him, as he anticipates your movements before they truly happen. 
You stand there in your teeny vest top, crossing your arms over your chest and staring at any spot that isn't his face as he throws out your shirt and takes in the graphic design on the front. 
He looks between you and the shirt smiling like a fool. He laughs, and he tilts his head one way then the other before laughing again. 
“What's so funny?” you challenge. 
“Put this back on,” he says back, matching your demanding tone. “Right now.” 
“No way.” 
“Put it on! You're indecent. Here, I'll help.” 
It's not funny how quickly you lose, shrieking and pushing backwards into the shower as Peter tries to force your arms through the shirt. You laugh as he grabs you and he knows he can keep going, pushing the shirt over your head and his knee between your thighs, and suddenly you've got Spider-Man's emblem on your chest again, the end of the shirt bunched above your stomach. You're both breathless from the scuffle. He stares at your merch. 
“My eyes are up here.” 
“Shut up,” Peter says just as quickly, kissing you hard. A rough and short thing, the glove of his suit on your naked hip. You breathe out in a rush and kiss back, not feverish but getting there, never not happy to feel the seam of his lips parting against yours. He yanks back, “Is this–” 
You kiss him again before he can ask if it's alright. You like a good fight, and it's hard for him to make fun of you for the shirt when you're kissing. He kisses you long enough to make you dizzy, thumb under the hem of your embarrassing apparel. 
He brings his hand to his mouth to bite off his glove and hits the shower with his elbow, a rain of droplets falling from the head like shards of ice down the back of his neck. He pulls away, blinking, and you laugh at his misfortune tauntingly.
“Cold night in Queens?” you ask. 
He wipes at his neck. “Warm for you. You are never taking it off. Never.” 
“What, you like it?” you ask. 
“Just enough to chase you into the bathroom, yeah.” 
“Friendly neighbourhood pervert,” you say happily. 
He wipes his wet hand down your bare stomach. “And his number one fan.” 
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ridingthatd · 4 months
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𝜗𝜚 ˖ ◜𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◜˖𝜗𝜚
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˖𝜗𝜚 chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, masturbation, breastfeeding, squirting, filthy, kinky, horny ˖𝜗𝜚
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you have always managed to make choso feel stuff he has never felt before, and by now he isn't surprised by the way you always manage to get him turned on by the smallest things you do.
choso wasn't the type to be sexually active, he never had any interest in any sexual activities, it got to the point where he thought he might be asexual not until he met you.
now every god damn second he's near you he's hard. it's concerning at this point the way his dick squeeze up his pants trying to get out free.
you smile at him. he's hard. you simply say his name. he's hard. you innocently wave at him. he's hard. you try to help him with his wounds. he's hard. just one touch from you and he thinks he could cum in his pants, it's driving him crazy why, how and when did he become like this, acting like a teenage pervert who never felt a touch of a woman. he hates himself no he despise himself for feeling like this, for feeling so helpless that he can't just have you, choso lost count from how many times he had dirty thoughts about you, daydreaming about ways he can make you whine his name, ways he can make you squirt all over his face, ways he can make his, fuck you, breed you, he wanna stuff you with his cum, he wanna see his cum squirting out of your pussy from being to stuffed, he wanna-
" choso?.." choso was snapped out of his thoughts by the one and only, the girl that has been driving him crazy, the girl that has him hard 24/7, the girl that is so innocent that she has no idea about how dirty choso was, about how dirty her boyfriends brother was- yes you were yujis little girlfriend, and this is what makes it more dirty.
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"I'm sorry the door was slightly opened, I didn't mean to interrupt your privacy" you said in the sweet angelic voice of yours, the voice that always manage to make him whimper from how close it has him cumming in his pants.
he takes a look at you from his desk, and oh god he wish he didn't, here you are in causal clothes, a long skirt that reachs your knees and a buttoned up shirt- no a half buttoned up shirt since you decided to leave the upper half open to bless him with the view of your cleavage, full and round, he bets they would be warm and heavy around his mouth, lash on your nipples they would be so soft, his spit coating them, sucking and gripping on them after an exhausting day.
he snaps out of it and scoff "what brings you here..?" he says in a cold, stern voice lazily moving his eyes from you to the book he was readin- he was supposed to read. "uh.. well.. um yuji said that you haven't been to the hospital after your injury since you hate the place and.." you take a deep breath while fidgeting around with the medical box you have in your hands "i.. i thought maybe i could help you treat your wounds here instead" you nervously say while chewing on your lips avoiding his eyes, choso is speechless how do you always manage to make him feel this way tug on his heart
you start getting anxious by his silence maybe you over stepped his boundaries after all even if you are the girlfriend of his brother that doesn't mean you can act this way, "forget about this-" you were interrupted by choso standing up and making his way toward his bed just to have a seat on it while staring at you with his cold eyes that never failed to have you on your knees "get in and close the door behind you" says choso, yet you still remind standing, speechless "what? weren't you the one who suggested this? don't make me regret my decision." choso said in a soft voice scared that you will change your mind and leave, scared that he won't be able to feel your touch, treating his wounds, hes gone crazy he wants you to treat him just to feel your soft hands on his back where his wound laid, his hard on is already pressing on the zipper of his pants, plusing and waiting for your response luckily he had a blanket on his lap to hide his pervert side from you.
"i- okay." you said softly closing the door behind you, for some reason the idea of having you on his bed with him and you only, door closed, makes him even harder he wouldn't be surprised if his dick sprung out of his pants from how hard he is right now. you take a seat behind him "may I?..." you ask referring to his shirt that you're about to take off, he slowly nodes breathing hard he can feel his whole body getting hot just at the thought of you touching his skin, you slowly take off his shirt brushing your finger against his skin every so slightly, choso fight off the whimper he wanna let out from how good it feels to have your cold fingers brush against his warm body, once the shirt is off you start rubbing a cotton on his wound "does it hurt?.. " you softly whisper sadness filled in your voice, but choso was to drunk off being needy and horny to listen all he can think about right now is the feeling of your hands on him, so good so good he thought, he can feel the percum on his dick, he thinks he might go crazy, his mind is blank as you start gazing your finger tips against his wound whispering so sweetly against his ear he can feel your hot breath " choso? is this okay?" and he lost it he let's out a loud whine that throws you off you quickly push your hands off scared that the sound that left him was out of pain "I.. Im sorry I didn't mean to hurt-"
your words were cut off by choso hissing through his teeth "don't stop." he groaned out, placing your hand where it was you freeze you didn't realize what's happening not until you saw chosos hands under the blanket tugging on what seems like a hard on- no no there's no way choso, your boyfriends brother- you were cut off your thoughts when you hear choso stumbling over his words "I'm sorry shit- im sorry, please don't stop please please" he whines out hips buckling up to meet his hands, he's basically humping his dick in front you while pushing your hand into his back, choso never been the selfish type but this time he can be selfish when it comes to you.
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yawnderu · 6 months
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K-9 — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Chapter I
Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.
1 2 3 4 5
Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two
or
Simon Riley is crushing on an uninterested, tired medic.
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''I don't mean to be rude, but I'm getting tired of seeing you here.'' Your blunt words are met with a quiet chuckle, the masked man looking up at you with pure amusement in his eyes.
'' 'M trying not to get injured, bird.'' Oh, but he isn't. He's actively getting injured just so he can drop by and get your help. It's stupid, really, how his obsession with you began. He thinks about the first time he saw you, standing right next to Price, an unamused expression as he went on and on about his team, telling you stories of their missions and time together and despite how bored you looked, your attention was solely on him.
He took that chance to look at you, to truly admire you, noticing the way you pull up your glasses every few minutes even when they're not sliding down your nose, the way your eyes were focused only on Price, paying attention to no one but him, legs crossed while sitting next to Price, your face resting on your hand.
''Clearly not trying hard enough.'' He can't help the way his cock twitches at your bored tone, the small frown on your lips just making him think how pretty you'd look with his cum all over your face— he shakes his head softly, trying to get his mind out of the gutter, focusing on the fast and professional work you're doing on his injured arm, pulling the skin back together with a beautifully done stitchwork.
''It's hard being out there.'' He tries to make conversation and all you can do is hum in acknowledgement, gaze focused on the way the needle digs into his skin, coming out of the other side just to be pulled back together with the thin, transparent thread.
''Y'know Gaz was hanging from a chopper by a bloody rope?'' He knows you're close to Gaz, he has seen you talk to him often, and so he tries to desperately make conversation again.
''Scared the shit out o' the old man.'' His efforts work as a small snicker escapes your lips, stopping working on his stitches as you collected yourself. You look up at him with an amused glint in your eyes, nodding your head. God, he has never seen something quite as beautiful.
''Cap told me about it. Poor guy had his whole waist bruised.'' You let out another small laugh before turning your attention back to the deep cut in his arm.
''If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're getting injured on purpose.'' His heart almost stops as your cold eyes look back up at his, an eyebrow raised, yet there's a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you notice his lack of response.
'' 'M not.'' Is all he can say, the knowing look you give him enough to make his blood boil, traveling all the way down to his throbbing cock, thankful for the black hoodie sprawled across his lap to prevent the blood from leaking into his jeans. You ignore all the... beige flags, knowing he's not stupid enough to actually get injured on purpose. You finish stitching him up, throwing away the tools used and the bloodied gloves.
''Keep the wound dry for 24 hours, if any of the stitches come off or the wound opens, come to me.'' You softly pat his shoulders, a small yawn escaping your lips as you look up at the clock on the wall; 0200.
''Tired?'' He asks sarcastically, earning him a way-too-hard pat on the shoulder. Simon woke you up at 2 in the morning, claiming his wound couldn't wait. It wasn't even as bad as he made it seem, though you appreciate your work with the TF141 more than you let on, so you decided to help him. It isn't the first time he wakes you up at outrageous hours, claiming to need help for things ranging from a pathetic paper cut to a gunshot wound. This time, his arm was the only thing affected, a cut big enough to need stitches.
''Very. Now get out.'' Your hand sneaks into the back of his uniform, tugging softly and he gets the message, standing up and allowing you to guide him out of your office like he's a child. He doesn't care if it's you.
''Goodnight, Simon.'' You can barely keep your eyes open and he feels a slight sense of guilt at keeping you up, knowing you'll have to be awake again in less than 3 hours.
''Night, Doc.''
[NEXT]
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ginnsbaker · 9 months
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Bulletproof
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Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist
Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Requested by anon:
could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."
Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.
--
“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 
Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.
“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”
Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”
You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.
“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”
Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.
Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”
Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.
“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.
Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”
Like you, he doesn’t need to say.
You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.
Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”
The room goes quiet. 
A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 
You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 
Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.
-
The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 
In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.
At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.
Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.
Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.
Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 
You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.
Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.
You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 
As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 
You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.
But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave.
-
It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:
Your healing ability.
On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.
Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.
As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.
Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.
But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.
“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 
Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.
You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 
You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.
The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.
You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.
Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”
“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”
Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.
Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.
Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”
“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”
Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.
That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.
The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.
You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 
And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.
It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.
“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.
Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”
The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.
“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”
Was that a compliment?
You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.
Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.
-
The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.
Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”
You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”
Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”
Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.
Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”
You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.
“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”
“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”
As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.
“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 
Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 
Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?
Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.
Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”
You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”
Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.
Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.
“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”
“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”
“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.
“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”
The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 
Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”
“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.
“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.
You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.
The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.
In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.
You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.
You've become more than just teammates.
You've become friends.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
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that isn't very holy of you :/
Yandere church boy x gn!reader
It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time
Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention
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✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area
✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces
✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter
✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday
"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"
✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention
✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching
"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"
✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph
✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile
"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"
✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal
✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...
✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?
✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...
✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you
✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...
✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..
✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?
"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'
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angelshimaa · 6 months
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━━ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
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✧ cw :: gn!reader, angst + comfort (bc y'all asked nicely), reader cries a little :), it's a part two to this (please read first) !!
✧ a/n :: @ka0ila & @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory + the ppl asked for a pt two, so here it is !!
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“you're late.”
you nearly jump at the voice, not expecting any sounds to come from the dark place, way too cold to call home. you only note the laziness of his words, and how deeply they come from him.
it's past his bedtime, and he's exhausted. the hurt part of you hates how deeply his mannerisms are engraved into your mind.
you walk towards the stairs, determined to make it to bed without sharing a singular word with him. it's then when you see his figure sitting right there, blocking your path.
“where were you?” the red of bakugou's eyes is tinted darker, more bloodshot as he looks at you. you hope your own aren't as red after having cried your soul out at mina's. you half wish you'd accepted her offer to crash there for the night, for you didn't know how exactly this night could go.
“away from you. isn't that what you wanted?”
the response nips at him and he remembers the words he'd spat at you. you watch how he plays with his hands, smoothing over the rough skin and the thought is almost hilarious— he looked nervous.
“i— i didn't mean it, y/n. any of it. i was angry— and i'm sorry.”
while you were burning in hurt and rage and bitterness and overwhelming sorrow as mina hugged you, you'd listened to your heart beg him for an apology. and now, after it being thrown out, it doesn't hold the same weight as you'd like.
“until when, bakugou?” he winces at the use of his last name— he was never ‘bakugou’ to you. “you're sorry until something goes wrong at work again? you're sorry until i ‘start yapping' again? until you can't stand to look at my face?”
while he can't look you in the eyes anymore, let alone answer you, you feel the lump in your throat solidify.
“move out of the way, bakugou. i need sleep.”
you climb up a step, and the only movement bakugou makes is to stand up.
“y/n, please. please— stay.” the fragility makes itself known in both your voices and you're too tired— your heart is too heavy to fight, to protest.
“ba— katsuki, i'm tired. you yank me about at your will, and i'm so tired. all i've done is stay— endure— and all it has gotten me is here.”
he inhales sharply at the sorrow in how you say his name and it shatters him to see just how hopeless you look— all because he can't keep his damn temper in check.
“i'm sorry. please, i'll— i'll do anything— just don't leave. i'll get help, i'll come home earlier— i'll listen. just, one more chance, please.”
moments pass and the tears well up looking at his face, the prettiest face you've ever laid your eyes on. it pricks at you, watching him ask so softly.
you're weak, and you're so helplessly in love with him.
“i only have one more chance in me to give.”
bakugou exhales, moving slowly toward you. it's when you feel his arms wrap around you for a hug, that you feel your muscles ease up for the first time in so long. your own arms wrap around him, hands grasping at the back of his shirt, and he clings onto you like his life depends on it.
the smell of him— of home— is what causes the tears to finally fall. his shirt catches them and you nuzzle more into him, the thought of letting go seeming unfathomable. you can't remember the last time he'd touched you, let alone held you so close, but you try and hold onto what it feels like. what being at home feels like.
katsuki shuts his eyes, keeping his tears in. as he whispers his apology, he swears to himself he'll never make you cry so much again.
it's the sound of his heartbeat that stops your tears and lulls you to peace, and the warmth seeps back into your home that allows your broken hearts to mend in silence.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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cherryredstars · 12 days
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x mafia!fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex
Summary: Bad girl, good guy.
A/N: Requested by @shadofireshinobi! Thank you. love!!
Not Edited
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Fuck, it's cold.
Miguel shrugs up the large bubble jacket higher up his body, the warm material meeting his chin as he turns into the narrow alleyway. His head is ducked down, yet white puffs of breath appear in front of his face. He sniffles as he looks behind his shoulder, the street lights getting dimmer the further he goes. He looks forward again with a sigh, stopping in the middle of the alleyway.
It's quiet. There aren't even any cars on the main road behind him. He can hear the dripping of water from earlier rain as it hits the ground, echoing against the brick walls. He looks up the walls, not spotting anything in the darkness, even with his enhanced senses. He shivers, shrugging in his jacket again. His lips thin, and he turns back around to the alley's entrance.
He doesn't get very far.
"Are you lost?"
The voice is silky smooth, and he can feel a pleasant feeling vibrate up his spine. He turns slightly, his head tilting up. She stands right above him on a creaky fire escape. He isn't sure how he didn't hear her, but he isn't surprised either. He turns fully to face her, his heart bounding.
"Yeah, think you can help me?"
He can hear her amused chuckle, watching her shadowed silhouette. She walks towards the end of the fire escape, a large groan sounding before rusted clicks fill the small space as the ladder falls. Miguel walks over, climbing it easily. She's waiting at the top for him, and he pauses to look up at her. A gust of wind blows, making her hair and nightgown sway. It makes Miguel's mouth dry and he swallows.
"I thought I told you not to wear that here."
Her voice disrupts his thoughts, and he huffs as he finally stands in front of her.
"Just got off duty." He says, shoving his hands in his pocket. "It's a bit cold to be wearing that out here."
He nods at her outfit, the end of his chin pointed at her. She rolls her eyes, her hand leaning on the railing as her hip juts out.
"It won't get me killed." She says in distaste, her eyes scanning his visible suit to signify the meaning of her words.
He chuckles at that, knowing how right she is. She pushes past him, going to the open window. She slips in, and Miguel bends down to follow her in. It's much warmer in the small apartment. It's not technically her's, just a small place she rents for these meet ups. The money she spends on it gets lost in the expenses of her shopping, but Miguel doesn't think her father or brothers would care too much if they found out she rents it. They would surely get mad if they found out why.
She closes the window behind him, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her. He leans down, trailing kisses along her shoulder as his hand slips to the edge of her dress. It ends up against her thigh, the soft skin melting into smooth silk and lace. She hums as she moves her head to the side, giving him room to explore her neck. His teeth nip lightly over where her pulse is, causing a pleased sigh to escape her lips.
"Missed you," He mumbles against her skin, his hand slipping under her dress.
His hand skims over her thighs and up to her stomach, resting against the warm skin. Her hand lands over his on the fabric, her body pushing back against his own. Her other hand finds it's way into his hair, pulling his head slightly so their face to face.
"Don't be cute." She smiles teasingly, "Don't think I didn't see you on that rooftop two days ago."
His cheeks flush at the mention. He wasn't trying to follow her, he just happened to stumble upon the scene. He didn't know all that noise was her and her brothers dealing with... business. But, it was good business! Honestly, the world could do without two corrupt CEOs. At least, that's what he tells himself.
Her nose bumps against his, and his eyes dart down to her lips. She has that pretty lipstick that he gifted her a few visits ago on, and he subconsciously licks his lips. Her smile widens, leaning forward to kiss him. He instantly moans, closing his eyes and holding her tighter. He only lets up when she moves to turn, wrapping both of her hands around his neck as the kiss deepens.
He almost trips when she makes him move backwards, walking him until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch as he throws his coat to the floor. He collapses heavily onto it, tearing the two apart, He looks up at her as she goes to straddle his lap, his hands gripping her waist. She flips her hair to the side, smiling down at him before she leans down to his neck. He groans softly as he tilts his head back, his eyes closing as her lips suck and kiss at his neck. His brows furrow in a silent moan as she grinds against his already hard cock.
Even if his hands weren't under her dress before, he can feel the fact that she was no panties on. The warm mound of her heat rubs against the technological material of his suit, his hips bucking up to meet her moves. She giggles against his neck, pulling away as his lashes flutter open. He has that silly, hypnotized look on his face. She can't help but smirk down at him, the silly little spider that's absolutely smitten with her.
She cups his cheek, stroking the slightly stubble-graced skin. He leans into her touch, eyes practically glowing with hearts as he looks up at her.
"Get rid of the suit, Miggy." You whisper down at him, biting your lip as he gives you a small nod that turns into enthusiastic nodding as your words click.
It recedes in seconds, and both you and Miguel moan as his weeping tip just barely skims over your folds. His eyes drop down, huffing when the ends of your dress block his view. You smile slightly at the pout on his face, your hands slowly grabbing at the ends of your dress as your bring it up to your waist. The second your pretty pussy is revealed to him, Miguel's breath catches.
It rushes out of him instantly when you slowly sink down on him, a choked moan parting from his lips as your warmth pulsates around him. His hands grip your thighs tights, his eyes snapping up to your face. You're looking down at where you two meet, but you meet his eyes once you feel them on you. You smile lazily at him, smirking when his face contorts as you begin bouncing on his cock.
His mouth drops open in breathless moans, his eyes dreamy as he studies your face. You bite your lip as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, your own moan filling the room. Miguel whimpers up at you as you clench around his cock, eyes rolling back with a groan as you buck your hips. You giggle at how easily it is to make him go crazy, leaning down to quite him down with a kiss.
He hums against your lips, eagerly returning the kiss as he squeezes your thighs tights. You can feel that pleasant burn of an orgasm forming in the bit of your stomach, and your trail your hands down until they land on top of his. You silently move his hands up to your waist, and he makes quick work of bouncing you on his dick, already used to the silent command. You moan against his lips, pulling away and throwing your head back as your hands land on his shoulders in support.
A pleased gasp leaves you as you feel Miguel's warm mouth wrap around your nipple through the silk, a desperate noise leaving him. He can feel your walls tightening around him, and he sucks harder on your covered nipple to distract himself from the twitching of his cock. He wants- needs- you to come first, his hips hammering up into you. You're surprised your lip isn't bleeding from how hard you're biting down on it, but it finds relief when the band inside of you snaps.
A loud moan is directed at the ceiling as you come, your pussy clamping down on him as he stills. He pants out your name as he spills inside of you, the feeling dizzying. You giggle at the fucked out look on his face, gently easing yourself off of him. He leans his head against the back of the couch, taking his time in catching his breath. You hover just over his lap, pushing the hair out of his face with a smile.
You have him right where your family wants him.
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earthtooz · 10 months
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I have this suddenly in my mind and I need to share it, rins the type of person whos like " stop giving me morning kisses" But the day you forget to do that hes like *cold sweat* "wheres my morning kiss"
sfw but suggestive, gn!reader sits on rin's lap, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart
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rin rustles awake to the sound of the faucet running as you pull the handle of the sink and the stream clunks to life, and he can't think of a worse way to start the day.
for one, he did not need the harsh sound of water running to aggravate him.
and two, he didn't wake up to you beside him, all warm and comfortable tucked in his embrace, which is even more aggravating than the grating noise of water against ceramic.
today's an off-day that management issued; a real shame for rin because all he wants to do is spend time with you whilst fitting a quick workout in or two. it was a friday too, which is the perfect day to just relax and do nothing. however, you still have work and no matter how hard rin tried to subtly convince you, his methods did not work.
under the warmth of the covers, rin wonders if he can telepathically send a message to your brain and demand for you to come back into his arms. if you really were soulmates then you'd know, right?
as if it was scripted, you peek around the doorway of the bathroom, blinking in surprise when you see your boyfriend awake and grumpy. he feels a little triumphant when you smile at him.
but the feeling of triumph dies when that's all you do, greeting him with a 'good morning, rin' before turning back to do your skincare. blasphemy. do you even love him anymore?
feeling petty, he yawns loudly, the sound border-lining a groan in hopes of capturing your attention. nothing, you don't even peek around the doorway, instead, he hears the sound of a cap opening.
reluctantly, rin tosses the covers off and pads towards the bathroom, catching you off guard when you spot him in the mirror.
"bit early for you to be up, isn't it?" you question.
"what are you doing?" rin yawns, dodging your query completely.
"what's it look like, babe? my skincare."
he frowns. "that's not what i meant."
"then what do you mean?"
"i meant, what are you doing?" he parrots and you're only more puzzled.
"uhm... talking to you? getting ready for work-"
"you're not where you're supposed to be."
there's a beat of silence. "which is?"
"where do you think?"
"what's with the mind games this morning?" you ask.
once again, he avoids your question. "you should be in bed. with me."
at his admittance, you can't contain your laughter, turning around to cup his cheeks and for a second, rin thinks he has you right where he wants you. any second now, you'll relent and join him in going back to bed. you'll call in sick and you'll give him the good morning kiss he's been waiting for-
"-you're cute, rin, but i need to go to work today."
damnit.
"why?" rin persists.
"because i like my job, and there's big things i need to plan," you explain, turning around to face the mirror again so you can continue your morning routine but your boyfriend has other plans.
instead, he grabs your hips and spins you around so you're facing him again. this time, you see the uncharacteristic, albeit small, pout dancing along his lips. "won't you indulge me? you still haven't given me a reward for my match last weekend."
"i would beg to differ, your reward was more than satisfactory, you thought so yourself, you're just selfish."
rin grins lightly at that statement as he presses you against the bathroom counter. you're right; itoshi rin is selfish, particularly so when it comes to you. he should let you go to work, and he will, but he can't help but want to take up some of your precious time before your job snags you away from him, and he'll have to wait a laborious 8 hours before seeing you again.
"please? just a few minutes?"
exhaling through your nose, rin knows that you've given in before the words even slip out of your mouth. when they do, however, his celebratory smile is contagious as he drags you back to the bed. sitting down on the edge of it, he invites you to straddle him, the unmade sheets pooling around you naturally.
he doesn't mind living like this for the rest of his life.
"aren't you forgetting something?" asks the athlete.
you blink once, then twice. "no?"
rin holds back his groan. "kiss," is his only prompt but you seem to understand instantly with the way you throw your head back in laughter.
"you mean my normal morning kisses? i thought you hated them. always swatting me away," you lightheartedly mention.
"i do."
"fine then. no kiss."
he almost loses his cool for a second, but composes himself in the blink of an eye. rin's hands begin rubbing your hips, as if persuading you to give in.
"please?" tries the dark-haired.
relenting to the unusual softness in his icy gaze, you place a lingering kiss on the tip of his nose, but rin's got a look of displeasure settled on his expression, and you immediately know why he's upset- because you didn't kiss him on the lips like he was hoping.
"that was pathetic."
"excuse me?"
"another. do it right this time."
cute. you want to give in, but your normally stoic and hard-to-crack boyfriend is acting unusually clingy today, and you want to push your luck in this rare scenario.
"i don't want to kiss you though, you have morning breath," you murmur, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"what happened to in sickness and in health?" he murmurs, now tracing circles on your skin.
"we're not married."
"we should be, though."
you almost choke on your own spit, shocked by his boldness. "sure. let me go to work first."
his hold around you tightens as he buries his face into your neck, breathing you in as he cherishes the few minutes he has left. "hold on, i just want to be with you a little longer."
you pull him closer. "if you let me go i'll give you a morning kiss."
"a real one?"
"a real one."
he unwinds his grip ever so slightly and you let one hand trace his jaw before giving rin what he wants: his good morning kiss. he indulges in your touch and your closeness, taking whatever you provide because you always are so kind and fair to him when he's all rough edges and jagged ends.
eventually, you pull away, taking your warmth with you. you gave rin your part of the promise, now it's time for his to keep his. except it seems like he's having a harder time fulfilling it.
"i want you to stay," your boyfriend confesses, no louder than a whisper as he looks up at you through his bangs. "don't want you to go."
"i know, but i'll be back this evening and then i'll be all yours."
rin sighs, unwinding his arms and letting you climb out of his lap. a shiver runs up his spine at the absence of your weight and he doesn't like the empty feeling that fills him up.
"go back to bed, rin. you should rest." you mutter.
"after you leave."
"okay."
you give him one extra kiss before you go.
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hope u enjoyed, anon! sorry i kinda deviated a bit HELPP but i loved ur prompt (evidently), thank you for dropping by :D
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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Don't you agree we need more A/B/O for love and deep space?
Omegaverse Scenarios with the Boys
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Content warning: Omegaverse, jealousy, marking, scenting, fluff, mild sexual content, no pronouns, MORE ABO! MORE ABO!
Original Post
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“You’re back.”
You whip your head around to see Xavier standing at the balcony door, looking serene as ever in the mid-morning light. The soft look the sunlight gives him brings a smile to your face. However, it quickly strains and breaks, collapsing into a frown as Xavier steps out onto the deck. There’s nothing scary about his demeanor; he seems calm as usual but there’s a subtle tension in the air that fogs heavy from him.
Wordlessly, Xavier scans you up and down, focusing on…something. You’re not sure what he’s searching for, but you suspect he’s found it when his forehead creases and his voice drops.
“Did you visit Philos while you were out?"
"How'd you guess?"
"You smell like Jeremiah,” Xavier concludes coldly, which causes you to hold on tighter to the little packet of plant food clutched between your hands. “What were the two of you doing?” he follows up; this time he fixes his face and flashes you that sweet smile.
You’re smart enough to not be fooled by the innocent expression he puts on whenever he tries to pry information out of you. However, you have nothing to hide and answer honestly.
“My friend has been sick, so I wanted to send her some flowers.”
“Is that all?”
"I also got plant food for the strawberries," you add, flashing the green packet of nutrients. 
"That's not what I meant."
Your suspicion tipped off, you raise your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Xavier closes in on you, each step making your heart pound as he boxes you in between himself and one of the large ceramic pots homing the strawberry plant. Raising your hands to your chest, your knuckles brush against the tassels of his hoodie as you try to make some space between the two of you. It's clear you have no room to run, and a part of you isn't sure you want to escape.
Xavier reaches out to you; his hand sweeps under the collar of your black turtleneck, sending jolts through your body when his fingertips hit the sore bruise in the soft junction of your neck. The way he immediately finds that tender target reminds you of the way he hunts down wanderers with precision, persistence, and unfortunately, pinpoint accuracy. Despite the severe shivers being coerced in your soul, it doesn’t frighten you as he traces around your scent gland.
“You’re practically shaking,” he mumbles, gripping the neck of your shirt and giving a gentle tug, exposing your bond mark. “Are you cold?”
“No," you answer immediately, watching his snooping hand from your periphery, "and don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not,” he says with a shake of his head as he continues to fumble with your clothing. “I was just wondering why you were so covered up.”
“There’s no reason,” you breathe out, distracted by the fierce concentration reflecting from dark pools of blue so different from the soft glimpses and angelic gazes he normally shares with you. They strike you so deeply, peering through you so sharply that memories from how the mark was made begin to flash through your mind, fumbling any other excuses you might have said.
“None at all?” he comments, making your face warm. “If the mark hurts, it’s nothing a hot bath won’t fix.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then, why are you covering it up?” he asks; this game of cat and mouse quickly unravels when he brings up, “Did you not want Jeremiah to see it?”
“That’s not it,” you deny with a sigh, pushing his hand away.
You never understand how Xavier can be so jealous. Jeremiah is a friend to both of you; he has been for centuries from your understanding. Even if there was some point in those decades that Jeremiah possibly had feelings for you stronger than friendship, you didn’t hold those same feelings for him. You only desired to be bonded with one person, the one standing in front of you. Even when he was being a needlessly jealous dummy.
“It has nothing to do with him.”
“Do you not like the way it looks?” He questions instead, his demeanor softening only slightly with regret. With a slight blush, Xavier pouts and rubs the back of his neck. “I admit I was a little out of it when I did it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it! It’s pretty,” you finally yell, which causes him to clamp his mouth shut enough for you to explain better. “This is the first time anyone made a bond mark on me, and it’s a little embarrassing cause then everyone knows, we’re um…” you start to lose your concentration when he looms over you. You take a sudden step back, stopping only when the pot behind you threatens to fall over when you bump it. “Doing things…together.”
Chest aching, you hope your explanation is satisfactory. You never want to make him insecure but the idea of people knowing intimate details of your love life makes you sheepish.
“So, you don’t want him to know.”
“Xavier, did you not listen to what I said?”
“I did but isn’t what you said still a roundabout way of saying you’re hiding it?” He teases with a small laugh. There’s a pleased curve in the smile on his face and a shimmering light like stardust in his eyes; unbeknownst to you, that’s from knowing he’s the first and only one to ever mark you. How proud he would be if everyone was aware of that fact. “You don’t have to be embarrassed by something so natural. Everyone, especially him, should know you’re mine and I’m yours.” 
You open your mouth to protest but you’re interrupted by him grabbing your wrist in one hand to prevent you from squirming away as he hooks a finger into your turtleneck. Pulling your collar, he presses an open-mouth kiss to your bond mark then higher up to nip the soft flesh under your earlobe, higher until he's breathing into your ear. 
"I'll fix it," he murmurs and kisses your neck again and again until all you can make sense of is the heat blooming along your throat with each touch of his lips. 
His kisses lack his normal gentleness; they’re filled instead with a desire that makes your knees shake and buckle. You’d fallen if he hadn’t held you closer, squeezed you to him like letting go would be the end of him, as if he finds joy in feeling the aftershocks of your fluttering heart against your ribcage.
“Xavier, what are you-you-ah."
You desperately hold in the moan that builds up in your chest as he continues to bite into your skin and the sound of his kisses fills your ear smooch by smooch. Xavier chuckles against your flesh.
“Relax. I’m not going to do anything bad to you. I’m simply making a few minor adjustments to your  first  mark." He hums, tongue sliding along your neck to mark its target. “I think this is a good spot,” he whispers before sinking his teeth into your pulse.
It burns in a searingly blinding way, and your eyes roll up when he sucks onto your bite-broken skin. He doesn't stop until he manages to ring out a strangled moan from your throat. He cements his work with another swipe of his tongue then pulls away to admire it.
He paints that innocent smile back on his face as he locks his eyes with yours. His voice is light and airy like a weight is off his shoulders when the fresh mark peeks from your turtleneck. "This time I gave you a mark you can’t hide."
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It’s another day at the arcade and another day Zayne watches you spend an exorbitant amount of money winning a plushie you could’ve easily ordered cheaper online. The Tinkle Toy you win this time is cuter than the normal fare at least. It’s a bright candy streamer rainbow, with smiling pink cotton candy clouds.
“I did it!” you cheer and hold out your prize to him in search of his approval. He congratulates you on your well-earned victory. With a smiling face, you push the toy closer to him rather than hug it to your chest in your normal possessive manner.
“What is it?”
You wave the toy back and forth. “You know.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
In truth, Zayne knows exactly what you want, and it makes his neck hot under the collar. He presses his pointer finger to the bridge of his glasses and pushes them further up his nose as an excuse to avoid your slowly narrowing gaze. Your previously cheerful smile flattens into a stern line and your tone becomes more demanding.
“Zayne,” you repeat ominously, like a parent scolding their child for not finishing their chores. Somehow, it always works to earn his attention, and he briefly glances over the toy again; it looks much less cute this time, the carefully stitched smiles now a mocking grin.
Zayne examines his surroundings: the kids running around the overly decorated and gaudy arcade, the bored and drowsy-eyed employees behind the gift counter, the many older siblings and parents trying to win tickets for the little ones, and, well, you, glaring him down. That look tells him you’re not going to be willing to let this go despite how crowded the arcade has become in your short time here.
“You want me to scent your toy for you?” he questions, adding for emphasis, “Right here?”
“Rainbow Candy can’t join the other plushies in the nest without being christened by the leader.” Poking out your lip, you give him the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. It doesn’t move him enough to give in, not until your eyes start to gloss like stained glass and you softly plead, “Please, Dr. Zayne.”
Ice quickly breaks and chips in the mildest bit of sunlight, dissolving into warm puddles, and it’s just like that when Zayne finally breaks and melts at the smallest insistence from you. Grabbing the toy, Zayne quickly shoves it against his throat, ignoring how plush the toy feels against the underside of his chin. He trails it up and down the column of his neck, swiping it one final time under his chin. It’s a simple motion, done quickly and precisely to efficiently cover the toy in his scent in the least amount of time possible, yet it still feels so inappropriate to do here under your watchful, yearning gaze threatening to make his body stiff.
As he feels his limit about to be broken, he hands the rainbow back to your waiting arms.
“Is this satisfactory?”
You squeeze onto the toy as if someone could snatch it away. You press your face against it, smelling deeply, and when you look up at him from under your brow it’s with the sweetest smile he thinks he’s ever witnessed.
“Your best work yet, Dr. Zayne. Good job!” you giggle, and he has half a mind to pinch your cheek and wipe that childish grin off your face. “Now, I’ll have something to remember you by while you’re at work today.”
“Is that why you demand I scent all your toys?” he asks, and you nod slowly.
“You’re always so busy that I hardly get to see you outside of the hospital, so when I get lonely I just cuddle with these guys,” you confess. You press your nose deeper into one of the garishly pink cotton candy clouds; this time when your eyes waver like watery skies, it isn’t to sway him. “When the teddies smell like you, it’s like I’m holding a piece of you too.”
Those words connect everything that has ever happened between the two of you together, stringing the moments like a red line of fate. Despite the words  I love you  never leaving your lips, it excites the same effect that can make a sane man an idiot, an effect not even Zayne is immune to when you so innocently and freely express your feelings to him.
It’s a skill he struggles with; though for you and your happiness, he’s willing to give in and let loose the restrained mask he wears on his face as he listens to the one person he’s longed for all this time admit that they get lonely without him beside them.
“I think scenting you before my shift would be more comforting,” he offers; the adoration glowing in your irises makes him weak enough to stroke your forehead with the back of his hand. There’s a little whimper muffled into your plushie while your forehead feels hot to touch before your face falls into shock and your eyes dart around the room, like his before. As sweet and innocent as you can be, you can also be very easy to read. “You’re thinking inappropriately.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Not here.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
Zayne gently pokes your forehead to clear your head of the improper thoughts running through it causing you to whine and rub the spot, which only reminds him how you’re much, much cuter than any plushie. 
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You hold in a giggle as Rafayel shoves his face against the crook of your neck. Since you came over to his studio, he hasn’t been able to tear himself away from you, which left you sitting on the couch, covered in little splotches of dried paint, trying to discern why he feels the need to drag his hands down your arm and audibly sniff your hair.
His breath is heavy and ragged as he sucks in a breath, or rather your scent, and continues to trace up your skin until his finger can finally sink into the collar of your button-up. “Did you do something different today? New lotion? Bath Soap?” 
“I did what I normally do every day.”
Rafayel groans against your skin again. You haven’t seen him hot and bothered, face soaked and flushing red with fever, since his last ebb day, which already happened earlier this year.
“Are you sure?” His lips on your skin feel so familiar that your body is immediately on edge and reacting to every stuttered exhale he makes whenever your leg so much as brushes against him. He sinks closer to you, removing any space in between your bodies. “You smell delectable.”
“Rafayel?”
“I just want a taste.”
“Rafayel, are you rutting?”
“No, I’m not,” he groans, laps your shoulder without any care for the fabric covering it, then pricks his canines against vulnerable, pulsing skin. You can tell he’s about to lose it when he pops the first button on your shirt, not even paying attention to the way his nails draw across your upper chest. “I’m just…admiring you…there’s nothing wrong with that.” 
There’s a whimper melting from his mouth when you press your hand to his chest and push away. Your confidence is quickly rising thanks to the pitiful expression on his face, highlighted by parted, puffy lips and wide violet-pink eyes fogged with hazy lustful clouds.
“I charge by the hour for appearances.”
Rafayel huffs lightly in response. Something about him is different today; something that your experience tells you is due to the rut he fails to explain away. He misses the usual flare he has, the coy seduction that he uses to draw you in. He trades it for brute force, spurred by the mind-numbing need to have this fire in him quenched inside of you as he grips your wrist and forces you closer to him.
“Just send any charges directly to the studio,” he pants out in desperation between sporadic breaths. His voice hitches, forming a short gasp when you grip his chin and focus his sights back on you. He follows so readily at any touch you offer him no matter how rough. Your mind was becoming fuzzy with how much power you have when he’s like this.
“I only take payments in kisses, but I’ll be sure to let Thomas know.”
There’s a moment where his eyes narrow, perhaps in frustration, before they drop and lock on your mouth; specifically, he's memorized by the motion of your tongue glancing across your lips. Rafayel is only consumed with thoughts of how gravely he wants to be the one wetting them despite doing so hundreds of times before. His body wildly craves yours like the months before he was graced with a taste of you, or maybe this yearning is because he knows exactly how it feels to be touched by you as you are now. Rafayel isn't sure which it is anymore, the lines fade and blur, becoming harder to trace by the second. It hurts being this vulnerable, his body uncontrolled by himself, but if you’re his mate then there isn’t anything to fear, at least not this time.
“On second thought, I really should settle my own debts.”
“Are you sure you can afford it?”
“I’ll gladly pay you with interest, darling,” he barely manages to force out in his last single coherent thought. “Now, let me taste you already.”
Rafayel leans closer, aiming for your lips, but is stopped by your nail dragging up the center of his neck, unhindered by the thick gulp he takes to stop his heart from jumping into his throat. You creep your finger up his chin, stopping at the point to force his head up and eyes to lock with yours. The smile on your face is torturous, the look in your eyes out to kill as your lips purse and part to form one simple word,
“Beg.”
The arrogant smirk on your face says you know he will; Rafayel knows he will; anything for a small taste to quench this thirst built in him since eternity for you, but he also knows he’ll have you in his trap instead very soon.
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edenesth · 2 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [19]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.9k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 18 | Fic Masterlist | Part 20
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"What do you mean it will take weeks for me to fully recover? I don't have that kind of time, Yunho. This war isn't over yet." Your husband frowned, his gaze fixed on the physician from his position on the bed.
You sighed, stepping closer to the doctor, your concern evident, "Seonghwa, Physician Jung is doing his best. How can you return to battle if you're not physically strong enough? What good will that do, hm? And remember, you've acknowledged Officer Song's strategic prowess. Perhaps it's time to have a little faith in him for now."
Like magic, your words softened the general's hardened expression as he nodded in defeat, "Fine, I suppose you're right," He offered you a smile before turning back to Yunho, "I trust you've at least written back to Mingi to assure him I'm fine, right?"
"It's done, my lord."
"That's good; things should be stable for now. We dealt a significant blow to the Ruhon forces in our last battle. It's unlikely they'll launch any new attacks soon, considering their diminished numbers. If things continue to go well, this war might conclude sooner than expected." Seonghwa remarked, feeling optimistic.
"I certainly hope so, for everyone's sake. I made sure to inform Officer Song that you'll need a few weeks to recover. If they need you urgently, I'm sure he'll write back promptly," The physician assured, relieved to see your husband immediately agree with him, calming down so quickly with your presence, "Yes, I'm sure he will." Yunho knew for certain that without you there, he would have had a much harder time attempting to soothe the older man's frustration.
Sensing the general's longing gaze toward you, the doctor suppressed a knowing grin. Understanding that he was interrupting your much-needed private moment, he decided it was time to leave you both alone. With a final bow, he excused himself, "Well, that's all from me for now. I'll return tomorrow for your bandage change and medication. Good day, General Park and Lady Park."
After the physician left the room, you approached Seonghwa to ensure his comfort, tucking the comforters snugly around him and adjusting the pillow behind his back. His eyes remained fixed on your face, which he had missed dearly, as you fussed over him, "Is the temperature alright? Let me know if it's too hot or cold," You inquired. He nodded, and you continued, "Are you hungry? You must be. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you—"
Before you could step away from his bedside, he grasped your wrist, his expression displaying a small pout, "Stop, my love. I just want you to stay with me, please."
You softened, placing your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before brushing some of his hair away from his face, "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you. You've been away at war for so long. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need now that you're home before you eventually return to the battlefield."
He smiled, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly, "All I need is you." He murmured, gently pulling you closer into his arms.
Feeling your heart melt at his words, you relaxed into his embrace on the bed as he pulled the comforter over both of you. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sighed contentedly as he kissed your temple. He felt complete with you so close again, "God, I missed you so much," He confessed, "Out of all the wars I've fought, this has to be the most dreadful one. Not because it was tough, but because I couldn't stop thinking about you throughout it all."
"I missed you too, Seonghwa," You confessed, drawing in a deep breath to savour his familiar scent, "I never thought I could yearn to be near someone this badly."
His eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you nestled closer to him, pressing his nose against your hair, wishing for this moment to last forever. After a moment of comfortable silence, he couldn't resist asking, "I've heard a lot has happened while I was gone. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you through it. Tell me everything, my wife."
Taking a deep breath, you started from the beginning, recounting the events that unfolded after the general had departed for war. You described encountering Jinjoo during your visit to the fabric factory with Hongjoong, the surprise visit from the prince to the estate, and his unexpected invitation to the birthday banquet. You explained how he lied about you representing Seonghwa at the event and your gratitude for Wooyoung and San's help in preparing for it.
As you narrated every little detail that occurred at the supposed royal birthday celebration, your husband's heart swelled with pride and admiration. He listened intently, feeling his love for you grow with each word. Your courage in standing up for yourself and defending him in front of Prince Yeosang filled him with immense gratitude. He realised how fortunate he was to have you by his side.
"I'm so proud of you, my darling Lady Park."
With a light scoff, you teasingly pushed him in the chest, "Are you now, my dearest General Park? I still can't believe the first thing you chose to do after coming back was hurt me and push me away."
Guilt immediately clouded his expression as he drew closer to you, emitting a small whine, "I'm sorry, my love. Truly, I am. Speaking those cruel words hurt me more than this damn wound. I promise I didn't mean any of it. You're not troublesome at all, and I do want you with me for the rest of my days. If anything, you're all I need from now until the end of time."
At that, you could no longer bear to continue making him feel bad. Turning serious, you gently caressed the bandaged area on his abdomen before speaking, "I understand, Hwa. I really do. But I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to let Hongjoong loose on you."
His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used for him, one you had never used before, "What did you just call me? Say it again."
Embarrassed, you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat before repeating softly, "I called you Hwa. It's your name, isn't it?"
He nodded with a cheeky grin, covering your hand with his, "Indeed it is. I love how bold you've become, my love. Now, along with that nickname, tell me you love me again."
You blushed at his request, feeling he deserved to hear it as many times as he wanted now that he'd returned to your side safely. Relenting, you bit your lip and murmured, "I love you, Hwa."
"Again." He demanded, resting his forehead gently against yours.
"I love you, Hwa."
"Again, my love." He whispered, leaning in closer with hooded eyes.
"I love you, Hwa."
"Say it for me just one more time."
"I love you so much, Park Seonghwa."
Intoxicated by your presence, he could no longer resist cupping your face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the sensation of his lips on yours. Both your hearts raced as you made up for lost time, pressing close to one another under the sheets. Your cheeks burned up, realising this was the most intimate moment you'd shared with your husband so far.
Gently pushing him away by the chest, you looked up at him, worry evident in your eyes, "That's enough, Hwa. You're still injured—"
But before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another loving kiss. You gasped in surprise, but your resistance crumbled quickly as he deepened the kiss. Maybe just for a little longer, you thought to yourself, giving in to the moment.
As he savoured the feeling of having you so close, Seonghwa's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. He needed this closeness desperately, especially after the fear he'd felt earlier, thinking he might be close to death. The regret for hurting you with his words gnawed endlessly at him, and he despised the idea of being separated from you again. How could he have ever entertained the thought of you being with another man? The mere thought of Prince Yeosang in his place, holding you, touching you, kissing you, filled him with an uncontrollable jealousy that bordered on madness.
These thoughts fueled a surge of aggression within him as he flipped you around on the bed, trapping you beneath him. He loomed over you, his gaze intense as he whispered, "Mine. You're all mine."
As much as the sudden action flustered you and caused your heart to skip a beat, you frowned at his stubbornness, realising he wouldn't know when to stop unless sternly told off, "Are you out of your mind, Park Seonghwa? Such big movements could affect the wound, you idiot." You scolded, disrupting the intimate moment.
He blinked, momentarily speechless at the abrupt change in tone, protesting, "I'm fine, my wife—"
Before he could continue, the dressmaker barged in with raised brows, "Oh, we're all fine now, aren't we? I guess you're well enough to take a beating then."
The general panicked, hastily laying back in his spot, "Hongjoong, please, it's rude to enter without knocking." He chided.
You snickered when his friend rolled his eyes, "Well, it's also rude to disrespect your wife, but here we are."
"Oh my god, stop reminding me—"
"I'll stop when you learn to grow the hell up."
"Says you?!"
With a deep sigh, you stood up from your husband's bed, "You two fight to your heart's content; I'm going to prepare something to eat for this one." You said, gesturing to Seonghwa, ignoring his silent pleas not to leave him alone with his friend.
Hongjoong grinned at you, "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him in the meantime."
Oh, I know you will.
"Have we heard from Physician Jung yet?" Mingi inquired as he was being suited up in preparation for the impending attack by the approaching Ruhon men.
"No, sir. It appears we're facing this battle on our own. But with your exceptional strategies, we should manage well even without General Park." One of the soldiers replied, striving to maintain optimism despite the military commander's absence.
"Let us hope so." The strategist muttered, unable to bring himself to reveal that his strategies had been devised with the assumption of having the best warrior in all of Joseon leading the army. Officer Song hadn't seen battlefield action since his promotion, and his combat skills were far from polished. Just why did this have to happen in the general's absence? Mingi feared the responsibility; if they failed in this battle, it would fall on him. The prospect of leading these men to their deaths was enough to make him feel nauseous.
He still couldn't grasp how Ruhon had made such a swift comeback. It seemed implausible given the significant losses they had suffered in the last battle. After all, the enemy nation wasn't known for its strategic prowess; they were often predictable in their actions. Unless... they were intentionally misleading Joseon into underestimating them? If so, the strategist might have played right into their hands as part of their plan.
Oh god, what do I do?
As General Officer Song meticulously went through his preparations for the impending battle, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. Even with his efforts to focus solely on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to Seonghwa. The absence of their commander, his superior, and one of his closest friends weighed heavily on his mind.
With each passing moment, his worry for the general intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped him, wondering if his friend was safe and well. Had the older man managed to make it home? Had Yunho received his letter, informing him of General Park's condition?
These questions nagged endlessly at him, gnawing at his insides as he grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of confidence for the sake of his fellow soldiers, Mingi couldn't shake the underlying fear that something terrible might have happened to Seonghwa. All he could do now was hope and pray for his friend's safety, even as the spectre of war loomed ever closer.
A sudden wave of fear washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. The general's absence felt more profound and impactful than ever before. It was as if the very foundation of his confidence had been shaken, revealing the stark reality that his sense of assurance had always been rooted in the presence and trust of his commanding officer.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the strategist found himself questioning his own abilities and worthiness. Without General Park by his side, his confidence wavered, leaving him feeling unsteady and uncertain. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such panic in war.
With a heavy heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. Doing his best to ignore the doubts that plagued him, he knew he had a duty to fulfil. With trembling hands, he reviewed his strategies once more, desperately seeking reassurance in the plans he had meticulously crafted.
As he waited for the cue to head out and face the enemy, Officer Song resolved to push aside his fears and doubts. He may not have Seonghwa's guidance and leadership at this moment, but he knew he had to stand firm and lead the troops to the best of his abilities. With determination set in his heart, Mingi braced himself, ready to face whatever may come in the battle that awaited him.
Just as he was hoping to receive any updates about the general or word from Physician Jung, a soldier burst into the main tent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The strategist's heart skipped a beat, looking forward to some semblance of reassurance amid his mounting anxiety. However, instead of providing the updates he had been desperately seeking, the soldier stammered out his words.
"S-sir, I'm afraid it's time we head out and be on standby," The soldier managed to say between breaths, "The Ruhon army should be arriving anytime soon."
Mingi's hands clenched involuntarily, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and determination. Despite the lack of information about Seonghwa's condition, he knew that duty called and he had to lead his troops into battle. With a firm nod, he suppressed the trembling in his hands and resolved to face the conflict head-on.
"Let's go out and make General Park proud." He declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. With resolve burning in his eyes, he led his men out of the tent.
Moments later, Officer Song found himself mounted on a horse, the weight of his armour pressing against his shoulders as he surveyed the Joseon army lined up behind him. They stood at attention, ready for his orders, their anticipation palpable in the air.
As he gazed out at the empty land ahead, where the enemy forces would soon emerge, Mingi could hear nothing but the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, a familiar weight that offered some measure of comfort in the face of uncertainty.
With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the uncertainties that threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be Park Seonghwa, but he had undergone rigorous training and was a capable fighter in his own right. Reminding himself of his own combat skills, he squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.
"We stand ready." He declared, his voice carrying across the ranks of soldiers behind him. Despite the nerves gnawing at his insides, he projected an air of confidence, determined to lead his troops with strength and determination.
I hope you're proud of me, hyung-nim.
His breath hitched in his throat as he finally spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment. His heart raced as he realised that these were the enemy soldiers they had been waiting for. With a loud voice, he yelled the order for all soldiers to get into position.
Tensions were high as everyone readied themselves, their nerves stretched taut with fear at the absence of their strongest warrior to lead them. But as the figures drew closer, Officer Song's brow furrowed in confusion.
Something was not right.
Instead of a formidable army, only a few Ruhon soldiers were riding toward them, their arms raised in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender. Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he heard their cries.
"Soldiers of Joseon! Please don't attack! We have come to surrender!"
A sense of astonishment rippled through the ranks of the Joseon army as they processed the unexpected turn of events. One of the Ruhon men even went so far as to pull out a white flag, waving it frantically to signal their willingness to concede defeat.
The strategist's grip tightened on his sword as he studied the Ruhon soldiers before him, their faces worn with exhaustion and defeat. Despite their assurances, he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet, not after the treacherous tactics they had previously employed against Seonghwa.
"Hold it right there! How can we believe you're telling the truth?" He demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.
The Ruhon soldiers let out heavy sighs, their arms still raised in a gesture of surrender, "Please, we're telling the truth. Most of our troops have been depleted from the last battle," One of them explained, his voice tinged with desperation, "Our ruler has sent word just this morning to put this war to an immediate stop. A messenger is on the way to your royal palace to convey the message to your King as we speak. We come in peace to relay this message, and that is all. All remaining Ruhon troops will be retreating from our camp after this."
Mingi remained silent for a moment, weighing their words carefully. Finally, he lowered his sword, signalling for his own troops to stand down, "Very well," He said, his voice tinged with caution, "But know that we will be watching closely. Any sign of treachery from you, and we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."
The Ruhon soldiers visibly relaxed at his words, nodding quickly, "You have my word." One of them assured before they turned around and began riding away. The tension dissolved as they disappeared from sight, leaving Officer Song and his men standing in disbelief. Relief washed over them, dispelling the earlier fears. The strategist's expression mirrored the collective sentiment of his troops—a mix of relief and disbelief.
"Well, I guess we should head back to camp and await confirmation then," Mingi said, his voice filled with a hint of exhaustion. His soldiers nodded eagerly, grateful that the tense situation had been resolved peacefully. They began to disperse, their spirits lifted by the unexpected turn of events.
Now, everything fell into place, and the pieces of the puzzle aligned once again. His earlier suspicions about Ruhon's swift recruitment of soldiers now made perfect sense. It was clear that they no longer possessed enough manpower to continue fighting this war.
Returning to the main tent, Mingi was relieved to find a messenger waiting for him, "Officer Song, there you are! You have a letter from Physician Jung Yunho," The messenger announced eagerly. He hurried over to receive the paper, unfolding it with urgency. His eyes scanned the neatly written words at lightning speed, absorbing the contents. Once finished, he released the breath he had been holding, sinking into the seat behind him, "Oh, thank heavens the general is alright." He breathed out, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
The messenger's face immediately brightened at his words, and he quickly left to share the good news with the others. Mingi couldn't help but smile; everything was finally falling into place.
Peace, at last.
But his moment of relief was short-lived as a commotion erupted outside. The strategist frowned and left the tent to see what was happening. He found his soldiers blocking the entry of a woman, which puzzled him. Women weren't allowed in this area.
"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," One of the soldiers explained. Mingi pushed through to hear her response, "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."
As he caught sight of her petite figure, his eyes widened in recognition. Not because of her uniform, which indicated she was a female royal physician, renowned for their medical expertise, but because she was the one he had been searching for all this time.
I finally found you, my one.
« Preview of Part 20 »
"The audacity of those Ruhon bastards, attempting to poison my strongest warrior. That's nothing short of treachery, isn't it, my Queen?" The King grumbled, his concern for Seonghwa evident in his furrowed brow. He had even dispatched their most skilled female royal physician to the war zone, trusting her to heal him.
Anxiety filled his being as his wife sighed beside him, offering a comforting hand on his back. She had yet to muster any courage to mention the trouble caused by their fourth son during the general's absence, not wanting to add to her husband's worries, "I wish I had an answer for that, Your Majesty." She murmured sympathetically.
Before the royal couple could further drown in their pool of misery, the royal secretary rushed in with a few letters. He hastily performed the formal bow, only to have the King wave it away.
"Forget the formalities, Secretary Choi! Tell us what updates you have this instant!" His Majesty's voice was urgent.
San nodded, swiftly unfolding the papers and reading each one aloud. With each letter, a weight seemed to lift from the room.
"The first letter is from General Park," He began, "He reports he's safely home and receiving treatment from his own doctor."
Relief washed over the King's face.
"And the second?" Her Majesty pressed, her tone hopeful.
San's voice steadied as he continued, "The second is from the ruler of Ruhon. He acknowledges defeat and officially surrenders. He is also requesting an audience to discuss a peace treaty. It would seem the war is over, Your Majesties."
"Oh, thank goodness it's over."
After a moment of everyone digesting the news, His Majesty furrowed his brows in slight confusion, "Wait, General Park is home already, you say?" His voice carried a note of incredulity, "How odd. That would mean he began travelling back before there was even news of the enemy's surrender. Why would he return home all of a sudden? Did something else happen?"
The Queen's heart sank at that. For weeks, she had harboured the hope of shielding Yeosang from his father's potential wrath, but now it seemed fate had other plans.
I'm sorry, my son.
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Woohoo, only the final part is left, and we're done with the main story! Psst, try going over to the Spinoff Masterlist to see if you can spot anything new HEHE🙈
As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3
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pigfacedbitch · 8 months
Text
Let's Break Up (I)
summary : you try to do the break up prank on your boyfriend.
word count : 0.5k
type : headcanons
pairing/s : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Nico Di Angelo x Reader
warning/s : none
here is my masterlist! Part II is composed of Leo, Frank, and Will.
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Jason Grace
"Let's break up."
Jason is formally trained to remain calm and level-headed in the most drastic of situations ever since he was young.
So if you're expecting him to look surprised or upset, he won't.
Don't be fooled though, he may look like he's listening as you explain but deep inside this electric boy is panicking! 😂
"Okay, Jason. What in Jupiter's name have you done to make (Y/N) upset? Think! THINK!"
It might take a while for Jason to respond because he is torn between asking you what he can do to fix it, what he did wrong, or just be desperate and beg you to stay with him.
So he does what any Roman would do in his place. Accept his fate.
He fixes his composure and coughs a little to avoid his voice from cracking.
"If that's what you think is best, I understand-"
"It's just a prank, love."
"Thank the gods."
You never knew your boyfriend could sigh that hard.
Jason laughs in relief and hugs you tightly, like he wasn't thinking of crying his heart out and eating ice cream alone in the Zeus cabin later.
He'll never tell you that though.
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Percy Jackson
"I want to break up."
"Nope."
Percy just can't see the two of you breaking up. No matter how much he tries, he knows it's literally imposible.
He already has a list of plans; when he will propose, where to get married, where you'll spend the rest of your lives together, how many children you two will have, and their names. Even the number of pets allowed in your future home.
But you don't give up easily.
"What do you mean, no? Isn't that my decision?"
"OUR decision, (Y/N). And I say no."
"But-"
"No buts, baby. If you're tired of this relationship then rest. We'll try again in the morning."
You just pout in defeat, taking a bite of the blue chocolate chips cookies his mother made for him before he left for Camp Half-Blood.
He smirks like the handsome devil he is, pulling you into his arms and lays his head on your shoulder.
"There's no getting rid of me, (Y/N). You're stuck with me forever."
He doesn't notice the small smile on your face, preferring not to have it any other way.
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Nico Di Angelo
"I was thinking of breaking up."
He would shadow travel even before you could say another word.
Just YEETS HIMSELF OUT😌
Good luck trying to find him because he would be nowhere to be found. You already asked everyone yet nobody knows where he is.
Hours passed, no sign of him. You got truly worried that you can't even fall asleep.
You were just laying on your bed, staring into nothing when you hear a knock on your window.
It's Jules-Albert, holding a bag of McDonalds with your favorite foods and drink. It also has a note.
"Just think about what you said with a full stomach. You do stupid shit when you're hungry."
You don't know if you should be offended or laugh.
Still in your pajamas, you run to the Hades cabin and knock on his door. No one answers.
You do feel a pair of arms around your waist and cold nose nuzzling your neck.
You turn your head to kiss Nico's cheek as he leans more into you. He then whispers in your ear-
"I love you, tesoro mio. Don't scare me like that again."
Gods, you didn't have the heart to tell him it was a prank.
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lvlyghost · 7 months
Note
Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing
how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.
What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk
But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭
The Weight of the World
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.
A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕
Masterlist✨
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You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.
Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.
Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?
To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.
The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.
The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.
"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.
"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"
"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."
"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"
"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."
"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"
"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."
It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.
You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.
-
Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.
You.
The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.
Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.
You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.
You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.
The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.
The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.
It's all on him.
He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.
"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."
Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.
"Love..."
"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.
Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.
"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"
Shaking your head and biting down your lip.
"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."
"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."
"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."
You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.
"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"
He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.
"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."
"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."
A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.
"You took it off..."
"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."
"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.
"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.
"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.
You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.
"Yeah. We're still getting married."
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luveline · 8 months
Note
I LOVE YOUR WRITING IT'S SO ASDFJKFTICDHBDIGDGXSJOHCBCFG
so I wanted to request Sirius x reader where the reader is on veritaserum and has a banter/ tongue in cheek sorta relationship with Sirius. And then when she's on the truth serum she has to hold back witty comebacks because when she opens her mouth all she keeps saying is how disgustingly cute Sirius looks when he smiles, and how she just wants to snog his face off PLEASE IF YOU CAN 👉👈 🥺
REMINDER: YOU'RE AMAZING AND I'M HAPPY AND PROUD OF YOUR SERVICE TO THE FANFIC COMMUNITY
thank you ♡ —you can't hide the truth from sirius, and he doesn't want to try. 1.3k
cw spiked drink
"Why would someone put veritaserum in the pimms?" you ask James meekly. 
"Shortcake, I'm really not sure. Don't get upset about it, alright? Remus is going to tear them all a new one." He squeezes you by the shoulders. "Don't worry, Jamie's here." 
"You're very handsome, but I don't fancy you. Much." 
James smiles. "Good to know, lovely. I don't fancy you much either. I'll assume you're saving yourself for our mutual dark-haired friend and I shan't be offended." 
You slap a hand over your mouth and shake your head, but the truth comes out muffled into your palm anyways. "I really like him," you say, eyes wide with terror, "I don't want anyone else. Oh, James! You're such a dick!" 
"Do you mean that, or are you just angry with me?" James asks, helping you out into the garden away from the party and your peers, who can't be trusted to leave you alone when you're set to tell them any secret they want. 
"Both!" 
"What's wrong?" Sirius asks. 
Your neck almost snaps as you look up. James swears, trying to save it as your body instinctively answers. "Someone's spiked our girl," James says extremely loudly to mask your more honest confession, "I'm worried I'm going to tell you I like you," you say. 
Sirius, sitting on a low garden wall with a packet of cigarettes in his hand, is puzzled. "What?" 
"Someone's put veritaserum in her drink. Maybe in the pitcher. I've brought her outside so she doesn't accidentally tell everyone she's in love with me."
Sirius grins. "Don't be daft, Prongs, she's clearly team Black. Aren't you, sweetheart?" 
"You're the prettiest of your trio," you say, sincerity like a blade at the back of your throat, aching, "I'm definitely on your team." 
James squeezes your shoulder and helps you into a garden chair, the metal cool against your back. "I'll forgive you because I know you can't help it, and because I know you're dying of embarrassment," he murmurs. 
"Thank you. I love you." 
"I love you too, shortcake," James says easily, kicking out a chair for Sirius and flopping into his beside you. "Aren't feeling ill, are you?" 
"Just terrified I'll say something too honest," you say, holding your breath between words. 
Sirius sits in the chair that's been kicked out for him with a cigarette held between his lips, unlit. He lift a his hips to pull a lighter from his back pocket and you flush with heat at the motion, wondering if you're a pervert for looking, for thinking, but lately your flirty banter has your heart doing front flips, and every time you see him you're zoning in on his hands, his arms, the slip of skin at his navel when he stretches, the low sound he makes when something pops. 
"Stop ogling me," he says without looking from his cigarette, the end glowing orange in the flame of his clipper. 
"I don't mean to," you say. 
James shifts uncomfortably. Everyone knows you like Sirius, maybe even Sirius, but he hasn't said a thing about it and you've stopped yourself (so far) from telling him. Any truth has been said under the guise of a joke. 
Sirius takes a short drag and holds the cigarette out and away from you, smoke curling in the cold autumnal night. "Shall I go help defend your honour? I assume that's where Remus is. Being spiked isn't funny." 
"I'd like it if you stayed here," you say. 
James laughs. Sirius leans forward a touch. "Then I'll stay here. Do you need something to drink?"
"My mouth is really dry," you say. 
Sirius sends a saccharine smile James' way. It's the look of an older brother used to getting his way, to which James sighs and grumbles, standing from his chair, "Don't ask her anything cruel," he says severely, kissing the top of your head quickly. "I'm serious." 
"I won't. I quite like her, in case you forgot. I've no interest in torturing her." 
You believe him. James departs with a pat, leaving you and Sirius alone at the garden table, still but for the little motion he does every now and then to fleck ash onto the floor. 
"You sure you're okay?" Sirius asks.
"I feel fine. Warm, but that's probably because you're smiling at me." 
He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe we should talk about something else. I really don't want to ask you anything too personal while you can't keep a secret. James gave me veritaserum once, when we were kids." 
"He did?" you ask. 
"Too much of it. I was sick, and I couldn't stop telling him how much I wished we were real brothers. Which he knows now, but at the time it was, you know, very sincere." 
"You and James are real brothers," you say. 
"I'm glad you can say that. It must be true," he says. "I'm lucky, even if he has tried to poison me." 
"James is lucky too. We all are." 
"Yeah?" he asks. He's about to continue, but your mouth does the choosing for you, and you cut him off. 
"I love knowing you, Sirius, I feel lucky to be your friend, and I–" You bite your tongue hard enough for tears to catch in your eyes immediately. 
Sirius' blasé fades, falls away slowly, like a moving cloud unveiling a slice of light, "Don't hurt yourself," he says, alarmed at your wincing. He drops his cigarette and smashes it with his heel, shuffling his chair closer to yours. 
"I just don't want to tell you something," you say, shaking your head. 
Sirius touches your hand. "Okay, I won't ask you any more questions. I'm sorry. Everyone's allowed their secrets, lovely, I didn't mean to make you answer me. I thought it would be easier to skirt around the issue." 
But it's a big feeling, and it's in everything you do. You really, really like him. If you can't be honest about that, maybe you can be honest about something else..
There's no shame in finding a handsome man handsome. And maybe you can convince him that that's all it is. "I just want to kiss you stupid, Black," you say, "like, kiss you until I can't feel my mouth anymore. You look like you know how to really kiss someone." 
Sirius laughs suddenly, startled. "I want to kiss you stupid, doll. You're a fucking dime piece," he says through laughter, "and that's the truth."
"You look really nice when you laugh," you further, wondering if this is the wrong thing to do. 
"You look beautiful when you laugh," he says. 
"Joking with you about stuff is the best part of my week." 
"It's the best part of mine. I wish we saw each other more often," he says. 
"Did you drink the pimms, too?" you ask. 
"No. I'm stone cold sober, sweetheart." Sirius looks behind you and you follow his gaze to the patio doors, where James and Remus are arguing good-naturedly, a tall pint glass filled literally to the rim with water in James' hand.
"Has he left you alone?" Remus asks, quick down the short step to defend you. "I love you, Sirius, but I don't trust you to not ask her embarrassing questions." 
"I'm starting to get offended. No, she hasn't told me anything embarrassing. Only that she wants to snog my lips off, but I knew that already." Sirius smiles at you dopily while his friends seize up. "And that's hardly embarrassing, because I want to do it to her first." 
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