#( that lil treat will be a cup of tea )

[weskie]

To Make Your Heart Sing (Albert Wesker x ftm!Reader)

3556 words, fluff, hurt/comfort, s.t.a.r.s. wesker, ftm!reader, top surgery mention, coming out, main character injury, soft wesker, established relationship | Fic Directory

some truths are simply hard to tell. still, they must be told

You tried your best to keep things under wraps.  

RCPD’s human resources department knew of your ‘condition,’ but the file that landed on Captain Wesker’s desk a year and a half ago mentioned nothing of it.  You were just, well, you.  And that’s all you needed to be.  You were hired and the rest was history.

Or it was supposed to be.  Instead, you found yourself getting into the best of trouble.  Make no mistake, Captain Wesker intimidated you to no end.  Suppose that’s why the first time you turned a corner and the both of you knocked into each other left you a stuttering mess while you tried desperately to help him pick up the stack of paper he’d been holding.  The other officers who had been in the adjacent break room had the luxury of watching with bated breath to see him chew you a new one for such a careless mistake.

But he didn’t. 

The next was when you’d overcooked your food in the microwave, leading to a loud, wet pop and spaghetti sauce all over the insides of the machine. To your embarrassment, your captain was beside the coffee pot, brow arched just above the rim of his sunglasses as you sputtered and chuckled your apologies for both the mess and the noise.

You could’ve sworn he smiled.

Then there was that day you’d been running late.  You called the precinct from your clunky Nokia, begging for forgiveness from your captain.  As a peace offering, you offered to bring him coffee from a local shop, stating that it was “so much better than the liquid tar in the break room.”  His silence had scared you half to death, but his acceptance carried the strangest hint of amusement.  Black with two sugars, he’d told you.  When you’d finally arrived and delivered it, he took it directly from you, fingers brushing yours and making your cheeks light up.

That was the first time you’d ever seen more than a miniscule smirk on his face.  

Not to mention that time you’d pulled overtime and, upon entering to deliver yet another report, you’d found Wesker with his head resting atop his folded arms on the desk.  To this very day, you still had no idea what came over you to retrieve your S.T.A.R.S. jacket from your desk and drape it over his back.  You’d returned the next day to find it neatly folded atop your desk with a sticky note that simply said ‘Thank you.’

When the day came that he cornered you in the break room, black coffee with two sugars in hand from another one of your late mornings, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“I want to take you on a date.” 

Your eyes practically fell out of your head and your cheeks went up in flames.  You were stunned.  Captain Wesker was into men?  Not only that, but he was into you? You didn’t know what to say, what to do– anything.  You must have sat there blinking with your mouth agape for minutes before he’d finally just hummed, snagged a napkin and wrote his number down for you.

“If you find it agreeable, call this number later.  We can… work out the details then.”  

Looking back on it, he seemed just as nervous in that moment as you felt.  Not that you could blame him.  You figured he must have observed you for a long time to gauge if you’d be receptive to advances from another man, but the risk was still high– rejection, risk of harassment accusations… all sorts of bad outcomes must have been weighing on his mind.  But, that night, you called him.  Awkward as it had been, you both settled on a restaurant an hour outside of the city to reduce the chances of you two being seen by the others from the station, and the rest?  Well, it had progressed slow and steady, but your secret relationship with Captain Wesker, now simply Albert to you when appropriate, had entered its third month.

Which is why you’d grown nervous.

You didn’t know how to tell him.  At some point, things would progress beyond warm kisses and tender touches.  At some point your… anatomy was going to matter.  You wish you would’ve told him before all of this began and saved yourself the potential heartache of losing what had been the sweetest, gentlest relationship you’d ever had.  You worried yourself sick about it, always careful never to wear tank tops or shirts bright or thin enough that the tone of your chest scars could show through.  Your testosterone shots were easy enough to hide, thankfully.

Albert had been nothing less than a pure gentleman throughout it all, never once pushing your boundaries or showing impatience when you’d shy away from things.  Even the night you’d both fallen asleep on your bed consisted of little more than a hand resting atop the small of your back and your face nuzzled against the comforting rise and fall of his chest.

But, try as you might to hide it, Wesker had picked up on your anxieties.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?”  

Your heart fell through the floor the night he’d asked that.  You swore up and down over and over again that it was nothing he’d done and that you were just dealing with something that you didn’t know how to put into words.  He accepted your answer without question, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and continued reading the file he'd brought home from work.

Your mind always turned to thoughts of how you were going to tell him, distracting you at the worst times.  Which, of course, put you in a situation where you had no choice in how the truth would come out.

The bulletproof vest had saved your life– for the most part, that is.  Gunmen in a hostage situation had released a young girl, sending her out to run toward the blockade.  She was to be a message, clearly, because they fired at her as soon as she got close.

You bolted out to cover her, mind devoid of sense the very moment you saw one of the men emerge from the building.

You took two to the chest with the first simply lodging into the center of your vest.  The other managed to pierce, embedding in your right pectoral.  You’d laid between squad cars and the steps to the bank for god knows how long, shaking fingers applying as much pressure to your wound as you could muster while the sun beat down on you without mercy.  The next thing you knew, you were being thrown into an ambulance and given the good stuff, and you woke up after who knows how long in a hospital bed.

Your first visitors were Rebecca and Jill.  You’d grown closer with them than most of the others– save for Wesker, of course.

“How are you feeling?”

You simply answer Jill with a lopsided smile and a hum, tipping your head back against the pillow.  “Mm, yup.”

“I don’t think the pain meds have worn off yet,��� Rebecca giggles from across the room where she inspects the whiteboard covered with hastily scribbled patient information.

“Lucky him.  Should let Captain Wesker know he’s at least feeling good when we go back.  He’s…”  Jill turns to you with a sweet smile, clearly pondering her words.  “Distraught is a… is a word for how he is right now..”

That, of course, breaks your heart.  He was there when it happened.  Albert saw you go down.  Silly you, covering the girl they’d released…

Your eyelids grow heavier as time goes by, eventually slipping shut while you bask in their company.  When they open again, you’ve got two nurses at your bedside.  Even in your dazed state, you can put two and two together.  Just a change of bandages…

“Hi, sweetheart!” Chirps the woman closest to you while she peels away tape and gauze.  “You bled through so we’re just cleaning you up, okay?”

You simply nod and stare up at the ceiling.  It doesn’t hurt, thankfully, and the only thing you feel is cold air on your chest.  Part of you shudders.  Medical settings could be… complicated with your unique condition.  But you try not to anticipate the worst.

Oh how wrong you are.

“You can come in,” says the other nurse.  “Just replacing his bandages.  We’ll be out in a few.”

The hum in response yanks you from whatever blissful stupor the pain meds had lulled you into and you shoot up in the bed, shocking the nurse tending your wound.

“Careful, baby! You’ll tear your stitches–”

You barely hear her, nor do you feel her hands attempting to coax you back to the bed.  You go down, but not before locking eyes with your one and only.

Fuck…

They’ve got the top of your gown off and there’s no way–

You swallow thickly as your throat closes with a wave of shame.  You shut your eyes to hide the tears gathering within them, listening intently as Wesker’s nearly silent footsteps come to a halt on the other side of your bed.  He sees you.  There’s no way he doesn’t.  He’ll have questions.  Fuck, maybe he’ll just know outright.  Wesker’s a smart man…

You should’ve told him.

You keep your eyes screwed shut for what feels like eternity, even after the door clicks and the nurses leave you to each other’s company.  Neither of you says a word and it’s nearly pure silence until you hear the drag of a chair.  You just about jump out of your skin when his fingertips graze your knuckles, but they don’t retreat.  Instead, he takes your hand in his, lifts it, and presses kiss after kiss to it.

Your eyes crack open, vision bleary from tears and clearing as they spill.  You find him looking at you with furrowed brows and some painful combination of worry and relief written across his face.  His glasses are hooked on his shirt, showing you icy blues with a touch of red in the surrounding scleras. 

“How do you feel?”  His voice is as calm as ever, but, for once, his expression betrays him.

“Like I got shot,” you rasp.  You crack the tiniest smile despite the swirling dread and anxiety filling you to the brim.  You observe him for a minute, looking for something, anything to confirm your fears.

You find nothing.

“Indeed,” he hums, lips twitching at the corners.  “I’m glad you’re in good spirits despite the tears.”

You give a weepy chuckle that turns to tight sobs.  You feel so helpless and pathetic.  You’d almost died and now your little secret had been put on wide display for him.  Part of you figures this is just the universe’s way of telling you to get on with it.  Just finally rip the bandaid off.

You suddenly start to rise from your flat position.  Wesker watches you for signs of discomfort, taking his finger off the bed controls only once you were upright and–

Oh fuck– no, no, no!

They hadn’t buttoned your gown earlier.  The front section falls forward and you scramble to push it back up, holding it in place as you clench your eyes shut and bite your tongue.  His hand leaves yours and your stomach drops, ice shooting through your veins. For a minute, you think he’s leaving, but then–

Snap.  Snap.  Snap.

Your eyes widen, gaze falling to the hands working to pinch together the little buttons that run along the seam at your shoulder.  Wesker leans across you just slightly to repeat the process on the other side.  His scent fills your lungs and you can’t help but take a deep, greedy breath, chin quivering all the while. 

“Would you like to stay with me while you recover?”  He asks softly, taking his seat once more.  “Or would you prefer if I stayed with you instead?”

It’s so earnest that you could scream.  Part of you wonders if he’s just avoiding the elephant in the room.

“I imagine the comfort of your own home would lend itself better to your recovery,” he continues, taking your hand in his once more. “But I am not averse to either choice.”

“Al, you don’t have to–”

“You’ll need the help.”  He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.  “I assume you’ve had restrictions like this before.”

That cold feeling runs through your body again. He’s not avoiding it.   

“Yeah…”  

And he’s completely right.  You will need help.  You doubt your restrictions will be as tight as those you had after top surgery, but you did take a bullet to the chest.  Two, technically…

“I want you to think about it.”  Wesker checks his watch as he speaks, rising from his chair with a small huffed breath.  “My break is nearly over, but I’ll try to come by again before visitation hours end.  You should rest some more.”

You let your head fall back against the pillow once again, eyes fixed on him as he pushes the chair back to its original spot.  Wesker approaches your bedside again, hand raising to rest against the side panel controls.

“Up or down?”  He asks, voice soft.

“Mm, somewhere in between please.”  

Your eyes lock with his as you descend.  That same tenderness still dances in his gaze– the kind he saves for you and you alone.  Despite the tendrils of anxiety tugging at your mind, you find such an act soothes you to the core.  Wesker breaks eye contact for a split second to glance behind himself, ever the private man he is, and he leans over you.  His lips press to your forehead first, warm and soft, and his right hand rises to your cheek to thumb at the curve.  He holds that position for a moment, breaking it only to press another to your lips.

“Hm,” he hums, breaking away to glance at the monitor.  He chuckles softly.  “Your heart rate just jumped.”

Oh god, you think it yourself.  You can practically feel your cheeks go up in flames, but you giggle nonetheless at his cheeky little observation.  “Well, you know… handsome blonde guys named Albert do that to me.”

He leaves with a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, much to your satisfaction.

They keep you at the hospital for another full day just to be safe.  Wesker spent his lunch break with you again, during which he reminded you that he would absolutely be aiding you while you’re under physical restrictions– you need only pick the place.  He’d been positive your own home would be better, so that’s what you opted for.  

Much to your joy, you weren’t excessively limited.  No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity– all the usuals.  You were to have two full weeks off before returning to simple desk duty.  Wesker picked you up, duffel bag of his necessities already packed in the back seat of his car, and brought you home.  Things were stellar until you realized he wanted to do just about every little thing for you, convinced you would cause yourself further harm.  Cooking was out of the question, so he made you meals that you could’ve sworn belonged in a gourmet restaurant rather than your little apartment. And laundry?  Forget about it.  You practically had to wrestle a handful of socks and towels from him so that you could feel less like a deadbeat.  Wound care, though… that was where things got tricky.  Wesker insisted that he be the one to change your bandages, and he did so twice a day, which was more often than was even recommended.

“I said I would take care of you.  What kind of partner would I be if I let you walk around in old bandages, hm?” 

It had been hard to let him do it.  Despite knowing full well he had a clear view of your chest in the hospital, you were still apprehensive to let him see it again.  No questions had been raised in regard to the origin of your scars, but that was somehow worse.  For a time, you figured he chalked it up to some sort of wound obtained in the field, but the day came where his hands wandered and a fingertip trailed the line running beneath your left pectoral.

“I…” You try, swallowing thickly to quell your nerves.

“Tell me about them.” Wesker breathes, finger still running along the ridge, pausing over the parts that weren’t quite perfect.

The worst part of everything?  You know full well you could just walk away and he’d leave it.  Al never pries; he always respects your boundaries.  'No' has always been a complete sentence to him, something you’ve appreciated endlessly in your time together with him.  But, all the same, wasn’t it time you gave an inch?  The man so endlessly patient and sweet to you, despite how he presents himself to the rest of the world, deserved the truth.

So you spill.

“I’m transgender…”  You murmur, words tight in your throat as you stare down to your socked feet.  From there, the rest falls free.  Every little detail.  Childhood woes, adulthood struggles– how happy you were the day you got your very first shot of testosterone and how you felt like you had a new lease on life itself when you woke up from your chest surgery all those years ago.  A tear or two escapes you as you tell your tale, but they’re not the bad kind.  No… they come from something else entirely.  A joy you could never put to words, a cresting wave of pride that you’ve come so far and lived so well despite every bump in the road, a sense of self that felt like wings upon your back…  With every story, you find yourself meeting his gaze more often until you’re looking right into those icy blues.

If Albert is dissatisfied with your revelation, he doesn’t show it.  Instead, he stands before you and listens intently to every word.  Without his glasses, you can see his eyes soften at certain parts, but it's the way his hand doesn’t quite leave from where he’d touched your scar before that keeps you hopeful throughout the entire ordeal.

“And I– I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just…” You exhale hard, eyes dropping with the weaning of that miracle burst of confidence.  “Telling people is… difficult.”

“Did you think I would react badly?”

You didn’t expect such a question, let alone for it to be asked so gently.  “I… yes and no.”  You chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder the way to best explain it to him.  “Not everyone is kind about it.  I didn’t think– it wasn’t that I thought you’d be mean about it, I just… I didn’t want you to feel like I was lying to you…”

Wesker’s eyes flit to the side for a brief second.  “I understand.  Though I fail to see how you would’ve lied.”

At that, you let out a breathy little laugh, eyes closing as you shake your head.  “So you’re okay with it?”  You ask finally, hand rising to rest over his that still lingered at your chest.  The anxiety returns and you worry the side of your lower lip between your canines.

“I am,” Wesker hums, offering you perhaps the softest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen grace his face.  His free hand reaches for the one that hangs loose by your side, holding it tenderly as leans forward.  At first you think he’s going for a kiss, which you happily prepare for, but he presses his forehead to yours.  You allow your eyes to flutter shut, same as him.  “I’m afraid you’ve stolen my heart, my dear.” He pauses for a moment, brushing his nose against yours. “You are who you are.  I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

At that, there’s simply no helping the way you throw yourself at him, arms wrapping around him as tight as you can without agitating your wound.  He returns your embrace immediately, palms stroking up and down the length of your back, perfectly warm against your skin.  

There’s one last thing to tell him.  Something that’s been in your heart for a while now.  He deserves every truth from you, and you’re all too happy to give it to the man who assigns you heaps of reports at work and makes your heart sing at home.

“I love you.”  You murmur against his collar, smiling big and wide at how his arms tighten around you.  “I really, really love you.”

“Good,” he hums.  Wesker rests his chin atop your head, swaying slightly as if to music that wasn’t there.  “Because I really, really love you, too.”

You giggle at his mimicry, but, in truth, you’re overflowing with joy.  It’s as if the sun itself has risen in your chest to hear those words, but that is simply the effect Wesker has on you.

What bliss to know you warm his heart the same.

[martyrbat]

[ID: a post from my drafts, dating back to October 19th. It reads, "tim drake is important because he's representation that not all bisexuals are cool and likable". the tags read, "its rare but it does happen. [they] need to make him autistic canonly so i can call him a slur. (once again, i am autistic)." END ID]

i have over 100 drafts that i can never ever post bc its all just shit like this but,,, it seems appropriate to share this one tonight

[yuukimiyas]

hi everybunny!! ૮꒰ྀི ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱ྀིა its a new day!! time to make some new memories & enjoy some positive energy!! here i am sendin sm to you!! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧ have the best weds ever bbys!! <33

[techniiciian]

owo/

[biibini]

Its okay if you dont wanna do this but i really wanna know what you think mizu would do when reader gets her period

modern!mizu x reader gets her period (request)

tags: period, cuddling, fluff, kissing, modern au, modern mizu, mizu being best girl

a/n: ok midterms r coming up so soon HAHAHAHAH (im so nervous)

modern!mizu would def have the supplies

but i’d feel like she’d carry the lighter, smaller pads

but on most days, mizu would be a tampon used

to ur surprise, she typically uses panty liners for the majority of her period

and even if she does get a heavy period, she can handle it on most days

(yeah im fucking jealous i wish that was me)

like perfect silky hair and thin pads???

mizu my girl

hand those genes over

anyways

she would have aspirin and a hot pack on hand if u need it

when she was growing up, they used to be super heavy but now they've become lighter

if ur a heavy flow typa gal,

oh lord its extra packs for mizu to buy

at first, she would be rlly confused at the sizing and the number of flaps/extensions the pads would have

and what specific color to buy

(iykyk my heavy flow girls will know)

but she doesnt mind, u need them

as long as her girl is covered and safe and sound

if ur a tampon girl, mizu would double check to make sure she got ur brand when she goes shopping

modern!mizu would notice ur cycles, especially the week beforehand when ur rlly moody

whether its u being acting more impatient or upset than usual

she checks and makes sure that she has the necessities at hand

if she doesnt, she’ll say she’s just gonna run some errands

technically its not a lie

she does go to the closest convenience store

but the errands in question: pads/tampons and something sweet

(personally im a chocolate sweets girlie)

she’ll get u a lil sweet treat that’ll last u for a week or two

modern!mizu would also pour an extra cup of tea for u before bed

she just wants u to be as comfortable as u can be during ur period

and if u guys are cuddling and watching something before bed

she’ll make sure to keep u comfortable

“Mizu, pleaseeee. Just one more episode?”, you plead. You guys had just finished the second to last episode of the show. Sure, you felt a little tired. But the thought of moving and crawling off of Mizu’s chest didn’t outweigh the comfort of the couch.

Mizu sighs.

“You always do this and then you end up falling asleep.”, Mizu states as she grabs the remote control.

“Not necessarily-“, you rebute. Technically, she wasn’t wrong with your history of falling asleep. But not this time.

“Mmhmm. Right…”, she responds, a little sass in her tone.

You pout. “Please. I promise, I’ll stay up.”

You place your warm cup of tea aside, allowing you to wrap your arms around Mizu’s neck. You feel the heat of her neck against your forearms.

“Besides, it’s the final episode.”, you smile. You look at Mizu for sign of defeat.

“Ok fineeee,” she clicks on the next episode button, “Stay awake now. I’m not summarizing it this time.”

You plant a kiss on her cheek, pulling her closer to your body. She places her mug next to yours and letting her arms wrap around your body. You feel the warmth of her hands press against your body, almost burning from the hot tea.

“I promise I won’t.”, you assure as you sit back against Mizu’s chest again. You feel Mizu’s arms relax and allow you to prep yourself before watching the finale.

Mizu smiles as she felt your body lay back on hers. Your weight alongside the blanket you’re sharing relaxes her. You feel her arms gently wrap around you again as you hear the intro to the episode play.

Her hands start to drag along your sides to your stomach. You feel her burning palm place itself on the top of your lower stomach. Its presence shared a similarity to a heat pad.

You hum in response. While her right hand is busy drawing attention to your lower stomach, you feel her other hand wrap around you and pull you closer. You feel her lips lightly graze your shoulder.

“Mizu, it feels good but-”, you say as her right hand starts to gently massage your stomach.

Fuck. That feels so nice.

You hold back a groan. “Not here, hon.”, you say as you nod your head towards Ringo’s bedroom door.

“I know, don’t worry.”, Mizu responds as she places a soft kiss near your neck. “I just want you to feel comfortable now. You’re on your period, right?”

You nod in response.

“So c’mere. I’ll keep you nice and warm.”

modern!mizu would put ur towel in the dryer while u shower

ik its oddly specific

but i feel like she would make sure to make u feel warm in any way possible

with or without heat pad

same concept applies for the blanket

shes always so thankful her and ringo got an apartment with an in-unit washer dryer

when ur washing up, she’ll typically be doing some light studying with some tea before bed

a break inbetween would be the pop the towel in the dryer

next break is swapping out the towel for the blanket

final break is bringing back the blanket right before u get into bed

its a strange strategy but it helps her stay focused and paces herself while synonymously taking care of u

modern!mizu would make sure she’s wrapping her arms around ur lower stomach when ur cuddling at night

the heating pad gets annoying to sleep with

especially if u tend to toss and turn at night

but having her hands warm u helps u relax at night

when ur trying to sleep, she’ll gently caress and massage ur stomach to help release any tension

at first, u thought it wouldnt have an effect on u

but the more she did it, the more relieved u felt at night

mizu would also feel relaxed knowing that u r relaxed as well

when she heard ur snores, she knows shes done a job well done

[hyuckkaiji]

my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader

summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 5.1k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis

note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪

The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.

But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.

He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.

And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.

Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.

Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.

His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.

According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.

Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.

He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.

Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.

He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.

So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.

You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.

As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.

Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.

Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.

Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.

How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-

"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.

"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.

"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.

You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.

"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.

It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.

Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.

Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.

"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.

"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.

"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.

You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?

He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.

Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."

"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.

"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.

He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."

"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.

"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.

He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.

He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."

His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.

"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.

"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.

"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.

When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."

"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.

You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.

What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .

In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.

His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.

This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.

He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."

Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.

He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.

"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."

For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.

"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."

"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.

In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.

He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.

He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.

He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.

"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.

"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.

You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."

"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.

"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.

"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.

"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.

"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.

"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.

His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.

"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.

Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.

"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.

"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.

You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.

He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.

Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.

"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.

Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.

You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.

You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."

He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."

[bredstick]

May I have a Muzan x male one please. Anything if I'm being honest.

Thank you :)

Muzan x male! reader

I hope this short lil thing suits your tastes!

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

being interested in a literal demon wasn't your usual cup of tea.

until he started to touch you- not like a prey, but something way more valuable. the slow caresses on your waist when he'd be standing next to you in random places at night, looking at you with those bright crimson eyes,

when you see him with his hair down, seeking for your approval and reassurement he's the best looking man you've ever seen, possessiveness coursing through his veins.

when he does small soft pats to your shoulder, treating you like you're made of glass- he himself wondering when he started falling for a mere mortal like you.

"Uh... Muzan? What is it?" you question, slowly starting to see a small smile appear on his face, looking at you like you were the highlight of his thousands of years living on this earth.

"Nothing, sweetheart. You just peak my interest, is all," he says in a soft whisper, your suit he made with his own hands gift wrapping your figure like it was fated to be yours- just as he was fated for you, he says in his mind.

yet he never changed, humans were high at risk like he,was ignoring that the love of his life is a human himself- until you almost left him, that was his mind shift and realization.

he plans to make you into a demon someday, not wanting to let go of your hold.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Dragonfly: Lantern Rite

zhongli/fem!reader

genre: mindless domestic fluff

w.count: 2.2k

a/n: this lil treat is based around the reader/zhongli pair from my fic Dragonfly! (feel free to click through and give it a read hehe) you don't need to read the original material per se, but if you have, then enjoy the immortal couple going to lantern rite together for the first-time! c:

Happy Lantern Rite!

it had been a while since you had migrated from your sealed-off home in the middle of nowhere liyue into the busy liyue harbor at the insistence of zhongli (and shockingly enough xiao). according to both of them, you had spent the last few hundred years stuck in immorality and all alone; you had spent enough time in solitude. now, with your life being revealed to those who mattered to you, it was time to move forward again.

in truth, even with your experience dealing with all sorts of folks from your lifetimes, the move to the harbor was awkward. people would see you practically sticking to zhongli simply because you knew no one else and they would start conversations based soley on the fact that you must be someone he knew. he was much more popular and well-known than you suspected since he was just a mortal man now. it seems his knowledge and need to make things known when they could possibly be told in injustice worked in building his reputation.

the addition of hu tao in your small, new social circle was a burst of energy you had forgotten people had as well. her go-go-go attitude about work and seeming lack of fatigue was almost awe-inspiring. the fact that she was the boss of your archon-turned-mortal lover was just as entertaining; witnessing him try to reign her in as respectfully as possible and sigh heavily when she would flit out of his sight was a pleasantry. it made him feel more well-rounded as a person and not just the age-old archon you had known.

now, it had been about a month.

zhongli had invited you to stay with him since he was absolutely unwilling to let you get too far from him after believing you were dead for so long. he was a collectively calm man with control of his emotions, but any sane person would feel the smallest bit of clinginess- for lack of better terms- in this scenario. perhaps it was his innate instincts kicking in that he usually suppressed; the ones that made him bare his fangs or hiss at intruders on his territory... who could say?

as you sat at the open window of his home up on the second floor, you enjoyed the bustle of noises floating from the harbor and the breeze that greeted you at this height. your night clothes were wrinkled from your night of rest and your hair had only been haphazardly combed back with your fingers. the warm cup of tea in your hand had been brewed just before you took your seat at the window.

even after a month of this, you still couldn't understand how you forgot how peaceful mornings could be when they weren't steeped in lonesome melancholy.

small pads of footsteps invaded your senses and overtook the sound of the harbor before the door to the small tea room opened with a slight creak. one thing you always had zhongli beat at is being able to wake up before him.

his bare feet carry him further into the room before coming to your side and leaning down to kiss the top of your bedhead. the robe he wears slides down his exposed shoulder when he leans and his loose hair brushes against your cheek. his hand cups behind your back and slightly rubs against your shoulders in a warm, welcoming motion before his amber eyes glow in the morning sun mirthfully.

"good morning, my dear." his hand keeps rubbing your back and moves to press into your spine that is still sore from the stillness of sleep. "may i be so bold as to ask to join you?" he always asks the same question as if you'll ever tell him no. you have no doubt he does in simple jest now.

"you may, since i'm feeling generous." with a small chuckle, zhongli shifts his body to sit across from you at the tea table before pouring himself some of your brewed tea.

sitting in the orange morning sun, the veins of gold that run across his body look like rivers flowing on calm land.

"shouldn't you cover up? someone down there could see you," you tease as you take a sip of your cooling tea.

"there's no need," he sips his own steaming cup fresh from the pot. "we're far too high for anyone to take notice of my appearance properly." even if someone did notice his less-than-human traits running over his exposed skin, he'd just blame it on the sun- just a trick of the light.

the mornings were often like this. soft and quiet and slow before he knows he's needed at the funeral parlor and you would soon be needed at your own job. that was one other thing you were insistent on when moving to the harbor with him.

you didn't want to mooch off his paycheck and his home and his space forever, so you were quick to find a job anywhere you could. zhongli wishes you wouldn't have since he strongly thought that you deserved to live lazily and carefree- if not forever then at least for a while longer. still, when you didn't budge on your decision, he was quick to relent as he always was.

you had decided to go with a smaller-scale job and work alongside ying'er and her perfumes at the scent of spring. she was quite the character and when you told zhongli about your prospects of working with her- his slight flash of concern didn't go unnoted. 'she is simply a very... open person,' he had told you. the flirtatious way she often spoke to others was clearly what he was referring to when you got to know her more.

still, you had your pick and decided to stay. odd though she can act, she was a good person and offered you decent pay at easy hours. compared to running around preforming errands along with rites of partings like zhongli and hu tao- this was a pretty safe gig.

you stood outside the perfume shop with zhongli as he was about to start on his way to the funeral parlor. he always insisted on walking you to and from work- the one evening you made it home before he could pick you up was the first time you had ever seen his eyebrows droop in what you would dare to call a pout!

that miniscule pout now dared to tug on his expression this morning too. lantern rite was tonight and when the sun would begin to drop, he would be preoccupied with other tasks and mingling with friends from past and present- he was afraid the social traffic would prevent him from offering you his arm. you had no problem with the circumstances since the shop would be closing early today for lantern rite in the first place. you just told him you'd meet him at the docks before it starts.

it was mostly true; you hadn't found him in time when the lanterns were to be lifted and you instead stood among the crowd of strangers while gaming had performed his wushou dance among the calm waves of the harbor. still, you felt full watching all the festivities firsthand like this- the fulfillment filled you with such warmth. your vantage point atop the long stairs that leads down to the crowded docks gives you a sense of being on top of the world. it felt silly, but so very comforting.

"oh, y/n!" you turn your head to see the traveler and paimon coming your way, paimon waving her arm enthusiastically in the air. she then proceeds to float around you in awe of your attire. "wow! you look so pretty!" her cheeks tint as you feel yourself become the smallest bit bashful.

"well, it's my first lantern rite. i thought i should dress up a little for the occasion." wearing a styled hanfu of soft colors that easily complemented zhongli's color scheme, you picked up the skirt before letting it flutter back around your legs.

this was another reason you were okay with zhongli not being able to escort you. while it would've been wonderful to be with him the whole event, the idea of this small surprise of you all gussied up made your cheeks warm.

"you smell good too," paimon's comment made you burst out a small laugh since it was so unprompted. you clear your throat as she cups he chin with her finger. "why does your perfume smell so familiar?"

"it was a gift from ying'er. she told me it would 'suit my tastes', i suppose."

"ying'er," paimon's brows crunch in intense thought before the traveler placed their arms on their hips.

"remember the rite of parting for rex lapis, paimon?" paimon snaps her fingers and points at the blond.

"that's it!" she turned back to you to explain. "during the rite of parting, we offered perfumes up to rex lapis! this is the one that seemed to really resonate with the statue of seven. what was it- uh, something, something dusk... mist..? agh! paimon can't remember clearly." you chuckle at her.

"it's called golden house maiden. according to ying'er it's favored by the more mature crowd. the gentle scent makes it easier on me to wear since anything too strong really isn't my thing." looking at your wrist where you sprayed a small portion of it on your skin before applying it to your throat and neck, you feel yourself get hot all over again knowing it was favored by rex lapis. "anyway, are you two going to enjoy the event?"

"mmhnn!" paimon hums. "we just got back from visiting xiao, so now paimon's going to eat all sorts of delicious food!"

you shoot the traveler a sly grin before they were clearing their throat and looking away from you. oh, young love- how precious.

"so, where's zhongli anyway? normally he's hovering around you like a fly when you're not working!"

"he isn't that bad," you chuckle. "i'm meeting him in a bit. i was actually on my way down. if you'd like we can walk together?"

"sure!" paimon agrees while the traveler nods and soon you're all walking down the stairs to the warmly lit lanterns and the decorative float of one of the past yakshas. with you walking in front of the two travel companions, they both opened their mouths in silently 'ooo's at the sight of your hair all done up with a single hair stick- one they're familiar with. "they're so cute," paimon whispers to the traveler who easily agrees.

before too long, you're greeted by the bustling partygoers of lantern rite and was even offered a small lantern charm that you happily except from a passing sales pitcher.

"oh!" paimon pipes up before pointing through the crowd. "there he is!" she spots zhongli with hu tao nearby a table of small tea cups. he mentioned that he often watched the fireworks with her during events such as these. "zhongli!" paimon called, parting the crowd while you and the blond followed behind.

zhongli was glad he wasn't holding a teacup or standing up when you finally graced him with your presence. if he had, he knows he would've dropped the cup or lost his footing.

he stared at you in a daze when you offered a kind greeting to hu tao who was fussing over how pretty you looked just as much as paimon did. as if your looks weren't enough, the scent of your perfume wafted into his sense and if he were any less of a man he would've grabbed your wrist and dragged you off by now. the god of old was thankful the night was dark and light dim so no one could notice his blown wide pupils that took you in. when you finally look at him, he swallows hard.

"sorry for keeping you waiting so long. i know i said i'd be here before the event started, but i got a bit time blind... ironically enough." zhongli stood from his spot at the round table and found his voice.

"it was no trouble at all." his eyes catch sight of your hair and gently brings his hand up to cup around the dangling jewels hanging off the wings of your dragonfly hair stick. "it was clearly very much worth the wait."

"aiya, you two love birds sure are something else," hu tao sighs dreamily at you. she was no hopeless romantic or anything, but seeing zhongli so smitten was something was quite the sight to behold. "go! enjoy the festivities and relax!" her soft voice was encouraging as she pushes zhongli's back to get him moving.

zhongli offers you his arm, which you take before showing him your small little lantern charm you received while you both walked off together. the party of three you were leaving behind of hu tao, paimon and the traveler all smiled at your backs.

"they make a good couple," traveler says. the other two agree with no argument.

and although it's a little late, zhongli takes you out to the statue of seven just outside of the harbor and releases a lantern with you in solitude. while you watched it float into the air far behind its other lantern brethren, zhongli was latched onto your back, hands on your hips and his face in your neck.

this perfume really was favored by rex lapis after all.

[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff + Slight Angst | Kamo Noritoshi x GN!Reader Home is Where the Heart is

SUMMARY Nowhere else to call home but here, with you

CONTENT NOT SPOILER FREE, mostly fluff, mentions angst, gender neutral reader, mentions of trauma, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR'S NOTE Ik this man barely has any screen time but I just feel like he's just a lil guy after finding out about him post culling game arc?????????? I felt like he deserved some love so I wrote this is one go. Enjoy! <3

WORD COUNT: 833

You love Noritoshi regardless of whatever stupid clan he comes from and when you first explained that to him, his eyes blew wide. His whole life was about being heir to the clan despite being it’s “bastard.” He always held an amount of resentment towards his clan for what they put him and his mother through. So when you call his clan "stupid" he couldn't help but lightly laugh and mentally agree with you.

He loved his mother more than anything and her not being part of the clan broke him in multiple ways. They treated her like dirt and also drove her away from him. It all resulted in her finding her own home, creating her own family, leaving Noritoshi where she thought he’d be safe.

But here he was,

no longer the heir, no longer anyone’s son.

He had nowhere to call home.

But you came along. Bursting into his life in a dazzling light. He always came off aloof to protect his heart from being broken again. he reasoned that if he didn’t let anyone in, he’d never get hurt again.

But he threw that out the window when he got to know you. He didn’t care what you did to him, he just wanted to let you in. Maybe it was rash of him but he trusted that you wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was just a desperate attempt to cling onto someone to help him heal, or maybe he just sensed that you were someone he couldn’t not have in his life. You were too good to let go of, so he didn’t.

Seasons changed and you two got closer, Noritoshi wasted no time in taking you out on dates and spoiling you. He had so much love to give and gave it all to you.

Of course he also had his classmates but he just couldn’t express himself the same way with them. But since he met you, his classmates noticed changes. He became more gentle, more kind, more warm.

You were always there for Noritoshi, always comforting him and listening to his past. Your heart ached for him and sometimes you’d even cry for him. Sometimes you’d just end up crying together and even though it was sad, it felt cozy. You were healing something in him that he didn’t know how to cure. He didn’t even know it was curable until now.

Noritoshi is also a very giving lover in return. He's always showing his love for you with acts of service or gift giving because the poor boy isn't too great with his words or physical affection. Quality time is a given with him though, whenever he wants to do anything, he asks you if you want to join but most of the time he'll just plan the whole thing around you. He's always there for you when you need him too, doing his best to comfort you by spending time with you and doing anything you need him to do. He also always grabs you a cup of tea when you aren't feeling well, it's how he says "I love you."

You love him so much and don't understand why the Jujutsu world and his clan treated him so badly. The poor man has done so much for the clan when his father paid him no mind. They treated him like a prized possession only because he inherited blood manipulation. They never truly loved him as a son of the clan. It was disgusting.

He was treated like Gojo Satoru but in the Kamo clan. But since he was a half blood, when the firstborn son awakened his powers, they chose him over Noritoshi instantly. He was almost jealous of Satoru. Despite all the pain and suffering, at least his clan still chose him at the end of the day, at least he was of pure blood.

Your boyfriend used to struggle a lot with the concept of being unwanted, unneeded, replacable. But you've filled any and all of the voids left in his soul. Getting closer with his classmates thus makes his heart overflow.

His life is painted in color now, the dull filter that used to fog his vision has now lifted. He swears you the moment he saw you, you were the one holding the bow and arrow despite him being the sorcerer, and you shot him straight through the heart. The colors he now sees seeped out from his heart slowly starting from that day. He describes it like an injury but you actually healed him and you've actually now started an inside joke where you'll pretend to shoot him and he'll pretend to get shot. It's a sweet joke that's always followed by innocent giggles.

Noritoshi doesn’t care anymore about clans or family nowadays. He knows that home is where the heart is. He knows that family is where the heart is.

And he knows that his heart is with you.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[eds6ngel]

getting ready for school with boyfriend!steve ˚𐙚˚

firstly, it would take the two of you ages to actually leave the bed. of course, morning kisses are a must, even if morning breath was invading both of your senses. and since the two of you were obviously half naked *wink wink* steve would roam his hands all over your body. but, not in a sexual way, no no, just in an appreciation for his girl’s beautiful skin ♡

and then steve thrives on cups of coffee to make him feel somewhat alive, so he brews that and gives you a cup of herbal tea as well. because, he has to treat his sweet girl.

and after steve gave you a 10/10 on the outfit choice (he says it everyday because you look beautiful in anything to him), he tied your shoelaces 'n gave you a 'lil twirl before making his hair look perfect.

this is total takes you almost two hours, when it shows only take you max an hour. but, if it meant spending extra minutes in his arms, what was there to complain about?

taglist: @superlegend216

[propertyofkylar]

crawls in covered in blood

Harper 19 👀?

doctor's orders - m!harper x gn!pc

tags/warnings: 19. kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, medical kink, reader's genitalia left ambiguous

word count: 1810

note: wow....i hope THE harperfucker enjoys this...

“Mhm. And how has your mood been lately?”

You shifted slightly in your chair, sitting on your hands. Dr. Harper was a strange one. He was something of a therapist and psychiatrist. But he also treated injuries, and you had heard he’d even done gynecology work, so you still weren’t entirely sure what kind of doctor he even was. But the pills he prescribed worked well, so you came every Friday to see him. 

“Um,” you hedged a bit, but Harper’s encouraging smile urged you forward. “I mean, it’s not great. You know? Things kinda…suck.”

Harper nodded as you spoke, looking the perfect image of a doctor as he jotted down something on his notepad.  

“So I guess I’ve just been kind of…down. If that makes sense?” You offered. 

Harper nodded again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Huh?” You hadn’t expected that. Harper offered you a warm smile. 

“I’m experimenting with more herbal remedies,” he explained. “I’ve purchased some tea leaves that claim to help with feelings of depression and anxiety. I thought you might like to try some. I know you like the pills, so this would just be a supplement of sorts. It may help lift your mood, even just a bit.”

Something made you feel a little uneasy. But your doctor had never steered you wrong before. And it was just a cup of herbal tea. What’s the worst thing that could happen? It would taste bad?

So, you nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Harper gave you another smile and stood up, busying himself with an electric kettle in the corner of the room. You watched idly from your seat. Maybe a warm cup of tea would be exactly what you needed. 

Several minutes later, Harper handed you a steaming mug. An herbal smell of chamomile, lavender, and something else you didn’t recognize wafted towards you. “If you like it, I’ll send it home with you along with your meds.”

You thanked the doctor and took a sip. It was warm with a mildly sweet taste. “It’s good,” you said, going back in for another sip. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Harper said. 

At the very least, a warm drink would make you feel better temporarily. The doctor made idle chitchat with you as you continued drinking. By the time you had emptied the mug, though, your head was feeling a little fuzzy. 

“Are you alright?” Harper asked, only seeming mildly concerned. “The herb blend does have a relaxing effect. It may be that it’s making you tired. 

“Mm…yeah…” you rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling groggy. “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…”

“Don’t worry,” Harper was leaning forward in his chair, almost in anticipation. “Close your eyes. My next appointment isn’t for a while. You can sleep here for a bit, no worries.”

“‘Kay,” you murmured, your eyes shutting of their own accord. “Just a lil bit…”

You were out like a light. 

When you came to, you had no idea where you were. 

It didn’t feel like you were still in the hospital, though it still seemed like a doctor’s office of sorts. But the light was harsh and artificial, and you got the feeling this room wasn’t used too often. 

Also, your arms were bound to the bed, which wasn’t great. 

“Mm?” You were still quite groggy, so actual words didn’t come out of your mouth. You suddenly became aware of a figure looming over you, smiling. “D-doctor…?”

Harper undid your arm bindings, inviting you to sit up. “Sorry for that! I didn’t want you to move around or get violent in your sleep. The…tea effects are a little unpredictable.”

You rubbed at your sore wrists - how long had you been like this? - as you took in the surroundings. “Where did you take me?”

Harper rolled a chair next to the bed, stroking your hair in a rather unprofessional manner. “This is my private office. You need a more intensive therapy.”

You blinked. “I do?”

Harper nodded. “Yes. Your depression and anxiety is rather treatment resistant. I want to try some different things with you to help you get better,” he slid his hands to hold yours. They were cold and smooth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

There was something wrong. Something was off. But your brain felt so, so fuzzy. “Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Harper beamed and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Now, let’s begin,” he pulled his notepad out and studied it closely. “You say you’ve experienced rape and sexual assault. Is this right?” 

You shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…yeah.”

He nodded again and checked something off on the notepad. “Good. Then we are going to have sex.”

“What?!” Your ears were ringing. Did he just say that?

Harper set down the notepad and looked closely at you. “You say the assaults cause you trauma. Correct? I can show you how sex can be pleasurable and it will sort of rewire your brain.” He smiled placidly at you. “Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

It was weird. Something felt off. But…you trusted him. So you found yourself agreeing.

“Good!” Harper smiled warmly at you, standing up in front of you. Despite the smile, there was something oddly intimidating about him. But he was a doctor, and you weren’t. So it was probably okay. Right? 

The doctor sat next to you on the bed, moving closer then he’d ever been. “The first step is foreplay. This usually begins with kissing. Are you comfortable with that?” His breath was warm on your face. You nodded. 

And then the two of you were kissing, Harper’s mouth surprisingly cold, much like his hands were. “Very good,” he murmured. Harper practically tugged you into his lap and your patient gown rode up, making you suddenly very aware that there was nothing on underneath. Wait, weren’t you in a therapy session before? Where did your clothes go…?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized you could feel Harper’s cock rubbing against your most sensitive areas. The feeling drew a whimper out of you, which sparked Harper to reach under the gown and grab at your back. 

“P-please,” you whined, grinding down on Harper. 

But he did not relent. “Please what?” He asked. “You need to be specific.”

“Please…” you sucked in a deep breath. “Please, fuck me.”

“Very good,” Harper pulled away and beamed. “You’re a very good patient. You learn quickly.”

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small tube. As he squeezed the slimy fluid onto his fingers, you realized what it was - lube. “This may be cold,” Harper said before slipping two fingers into your hole. You bit down on your lip and groaned as the doctor scissored his fingers inside of you. It felt good, but it also felt methodical and practiced.

You pawed at the bulge in Harper’s pants, which he was not expecting judging by his sharp intake of breath. “T-that’s enough,” he stammered, momentarily losing his cool composure. “I think you’re ready now.”

Harper pulled his hand back and unzipped his pants. With one movement he tugged down his pants and boxers and you were suddenly staring directly at his thick cock. It was flushed and twitching, and the bead of precum on the tip gave you the sudden urge to lick it. 

But that wasn’t what was going to happen, at least not today, as Harper was stroking his dick with additional lube, and the way he was looking at you - no, leering - was decidedly unprofessional. You were too far gone at that point, though. The only thought in your head was how badly you needed that cock inside of you.

Your doctor grabbed you by the hips and, ever-so-slowly, lowered you down onto his cock. Harper practically hissed as you sunk further and further onto him, until your hips were flush with his. 

“V-very good,” Harper managed to get out, his face turning red. This was an act you were quite familiar with, and your instincts kicked in. You started moving up and down, Harper’s hands still gripping you tightly, and he began rocking his hips in unison.

Harper seemed practiced in every aspect, with his cock managing to hit every sensitive spot inside of you. He was consistent, too. Every thrust was almost rhythmic. It made the hospital bed creak and squeak, and if you weren’t almost entirely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve worried about its stability. But all you could focus on was riding Harper and how fucking amazing it felt. Maybe it was that tea you had, or maybe your doctor was just that good at fucking.

His grip on your hips only added to the pleasure and you quickly began feeling heat intensifying within you.

“I think,” you tried to start but were cut off by your own moan. “I’m gonna…” 

“Cum,” Harper said plainly, though clearly struggling to stay calm. “You can cum. It’ll - haa - be good for you and your…fffucking treatment.”

You didn’t need Harper to tell you twice, his hips slamming into you. You grabbed onto his shoulders and cried out as the orgasm wracked your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, but when you opened them, you noticed Harper was staring intently at you. It felt as though he was staring into your soul.

After several more thrusts, you could tell Harper was about to hit his limit as well. Never easing up on his grip, Harper held you down as he came, filling your insides with his hot cum. The two of you stayed connected for a few moments before he gently pulled you off, you letting out a whine at the loss of contact. Harper quietly studied his cum leaking out of your hole and dripping down your leg, then jotted down a few more notes in his notebook. You wondered what he was writing.

“Well,” Harper smiled at you, straightening his clothes out. “You did a great job. You’re a fast learner. I hope that was pleasurable.”

You could only nod in response.

“However,” Harper looked down at his notebook with a slight frown. “I’m afraid you still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning. I’ll need to keep you here at least for a few more days for further studying and treatment.”

“Oh…” you mumbled. In your post-orgasmic state, you struggled to understand what was going on. But maybe a longer stay wouldn’t be so bad.

Harper stood up, clutching his notebook to his chest, and gave you a few soft pats on the head. “No worries. I’ve already communicated with your guardian and school, so everything will be just fine.” He gave you another grin, one that felt a little less genuine, and made you feel a little uneasy. “Trust me. There is no better place for you to be right now than right here.”

And with that, he left the room.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

devoted 2.

part 17.

SNEAK PEEK

A/N: the deadline was supposed to be today but there's just too much going on, so as my birthday treat to you guys, here's a cute lil excerpt from the next part!!

“Let’s go.”

You’ve walked beside Jaehyun multiple times already but this time you’re walking hand in hand with him — and he’s even swaying your conjoined hands! You were screaming inside at how cute he was to do this. He gave off such a cool vibe that you didn’t think he had such an adorable side.

Autumn has started and the weather was perfect to be outside, the leaves were turning to beautiful shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was nice to take a stroll under them right now and it feels quite cozy, especially with Jaehyun.

He filled up the silence growing between you, not that it bothered you, with small talk. He asked about your morning and the day before, if you had any plans for the holiday break. You told him that you were going back home to your parents over the holidays and was unsure if your parents had plans to celebrate.

You could feel his thumb gently smooth over your skin as he talked about his plans over the break, mentioning how he’s going to be helping out his dad in his business.

The cafe you both arrived at was smack dab in between a bookstore and a mom-and-pop store. There were little to no patrons in the cafe from the looks of it and it still had some streamers and balloons from their opening.

“Good morning! Welcome to Cafe Hue.” One of the three workers on duty, the cashier, greeted as you entered.

You offered a smile and glanced briefly at the interior — a habit you picked up in middle school that pushed you into taking interior design. For its namesake, the overall interior was a crisp white with loud, brightly colored decors dotting the shelves. There was room for improvement with the choice of furniture, but it still works.

“What would you like?” Jaehyun asked, pulling you out of your reverie by softly squeezing your hand.

You looked up at the chalkboard menu, giving each item a thought until you settled on a hot cup of French vanilla tea. Jaehyun relayed your order to the cashier, who’s eyes seemed very eager to meet his gaze, and added his own order of an iced americano.

“Do you want anything to eat? We can share something if you’d like.”

“I don’t mind a slice of cake or muffin.”

Jaehyun bobbed his head, “Anything in particular?”

“What would you recommend?” You directed the question to the cashier giving heart eyes up at Jaehyun. She shifted her attention to you, a full second of annoyance flashing in her face before plastering a model customer service smile.

“Everything is freshly baked, our baker’s favorite is the basque cheesecake, but personally, I love the chocolate carrot cake.”

“Both sound good, so I’ll leave the choice up to you.”

The cashier’s smile brightened as she returned her attention to Jaehyun, who seemed oblivious to it.

“Then a slice of each.” He didn't wait for her to tally the order and pulled out his wallet, brandishing a black card from within and placing it on the counter. She seemed astonished to see the card in front of her, but it only took a second for her to punch your orders in while repeating it out loud to confirm. Jaehyun nodded and she swiped the card.

“Have you always been a tea person? I could have gotten you tea instead of coffee all this time at the library.” He inquired, pursing his lips ever so slightly at you.

“Not necessarily.” You shrugged your shoulders, “My mind has strongly associated coffee with productivity and since we’re not here to study, I’d rather have tea. I like both, equally.”

Jaehyun finished paying for the order and guided you to a seat by the window. He helped you into your seat briefly before seating himself.

There was a palpable pause when he looked at you and it almost became awkward until he coughed and glanced away, ears visibly red.

“I’m sorry,” He cleared his throat, “I’ve never really… taken anyone out on a date before.”

The admission made your brows shoot up a little, “What? You’ve never dated anyone?”

He shook his head, “No. Wasn’t really interested… until I met you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and the faintest heat rose up your cheeks. “Oh. Uhm,” You stuttered, “I… I didn’t expect that from you.”

He sighed, “I get that a lot — not to be vain or anything. I was just never interested in the dating scene.”

“Haven’t girls asked you out? None of them caught your eye?”

Jaehyun shook his head again. “They all seemed… pretentious? No, too eager? Like I’m prey or something.”

You’re still having a hard time believing that this gorgeous man has not dated at all — let alone having you as the first person he’s ever expressed interest in. “What makes me different?”

Slowly, a small smile formed on his lips, “That’s what I’d like to know.”

a/n: there's too much technical stuff in the next part, that's why i'm having a hard time writing, but!!! it's coming i swear pls dont give up on me im sorry for such the long wait (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

devoted masterlist.

[questionableratatouille00]

Hi! I wanted to ask if you would do some Bucky Barnes x Reader x Natasha Romanoff(basically WinterWidow x Reader), where Nat and Bucky come home to their lover, all bruised with wounds and fresh blood on them. And Reader just gets lil mad that they don't look for themself and acts like they are immortal? Just a really big missinderstanding and angst with hurt and comfort and happy ending? Thank you!

howdy! I would love to! Hope you enjoy!

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 (𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦)

Pairing: WinterWidow x Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky keep coming home, each time more beaten up than the last. Tonight was your final straw.

Warnings: gore, cursing, death mentions, let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

2:43 AM, the clock read. You sat on the recliner chair with a warm cup of tea as you scrolled through your phone.

You heard the opening of your apartment door, and you knew it could only be two people.

“You’re back,” you smiled eagerly, as you stood up quickly and tossed your phone back where you were previously sitting. You sat your mug down onto the coffee table.

You smiled as you walked towards the doorway, your partners not visible yet. The apartment was set up in a way where the doorway was covered by a wall, where you hung up things like keys and jackets.

When they finally walked past the wall, your heart dropped and your stomach twisted.

They were both supporting themselves on each other, and it was clear they were moments away from collapse.

“Oh my God!” You gasped. Bucky flinched at the sudden noise, and Natasha looked up with a hurt-slash-guilty-slash-scared look in her eyes.

“Are—what—how—“ You couldn’t even make a sentence. And then, somehow, the deep and familiar sense of calm filled you.

“Get in the bathroom. Who’s hurt worse?” You questioned as you marched them to the bathroom.

“Bucky,” Natasha croaked just as the man in question said her name at the same time.

“Okay,” you groaned tiredly. “I’ll start with Nat,” you decided. You pulled down the toilet lid for Bucky to sit on before you helped Nat sit herself up on the sink counter.

You quickly assessed both of their wounds. You’d seen countless injuries, the blood and the gore didn’t scare you.

You made the mental notes in your head. Though they were both caked in dirt, you could clearly see where blood oozed from and where they clutched at in pain.

Looking at Natasha, it was clear to see. Three knife slashes on her left thigh. Small cuts on her face. A bruise on her right cheekbone. A bullet wound on her right side. Bloody knuckles. And most likely plenty of bruises.

“Here,” you murmured as you helped her slip out of her suit. And you were absolutely correct, she was covered in bruises.

You opened the drawer under the counter, grabbing a small water bottle. The three of you keep those stocked for times like this. You opened two bottles, handing one to each of them.

“Thanks,” Natasha murmured.

“Thank you.” Bucky said as you handed him his water bottle.

You turned your attention back to Natasha as you began to treat her wounds. She was more bruised than bloody, so it didn’t take very long. You helped her get in the shower, knowing that she at least needed to rinse off before she got in bed.

“C’mon,” you murmured to Bucky, gesturing for him to hop up on the counter just like Natasha had.

Begrudgingly, he did.

“Pull off your shirt.” You instructed. He grumbled a little, before eventually slipping off his shirt.

That same voice rattled off his injuries. Burn marks on his lower left ribs. Many long cuts across his chest and upper body. Bruises across his chest and a cut way too close to his ear.

You began to treat those. When you came across a large gash on his right side, he tried to cover it with his hand.

When you looked up at his eyes, you frowned.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “It’s..not pretty.”

“I was a SHIELD nurse for seven years,” you chuckled. “I can handle it. Let me take a look at it.” He lowered his hand and you took care of injury.

“Get in the shower with Nat,” you directed. He obeyed, and you cleaned up the area while they showered.

When they were finished, you sighed as you sat down on the bed.

“You..you can’t keep coming home like this.” You forced the words out. “You can’t. It scares me too bad. You both act like you’re immortals—like you can’t be hurt. Because you’re not and you can. You come home after every mission bruised and battered and bloody—you can’t keep sacrificing yourselves. If Sam or whoever showed up at the door saying you’d died—I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t.” You ranted.

“Doll, we’re Avengers. It’s part of the job.” Bucky tried to brush you off. This made you mad.

“No, goddamn it! I’m serious. You both are too fucking reckless with yourselves. And if you won’t see it in a ‘my-life-has-value’ way, at least think about me! What happens when you don’t come home? What happens to me?” Your eyes watered.

Natasha frowned. “We need to go on missions. There’s people who need help.”

“And I’m not saying you have to choose between me and your careers. I’m just saying that you can’t nearly die every time.” You reasoned. This seemed to make them listen.

“I’m sorry, milaya.” Natasha said mournfully.

Bucky nodded. “I’m sorry too,” he added. “We both are. It’s—“

“There’s no excuse. We’re sorry, and we’ll be better about it.” Natasha said. You were satisfied with that.

“I love you both.” You kissed both of them on their foreheads. “Now go the fuck to sleep before you pass out.”

A/n: graphics by @saradika-graphics

[lewkwoodnco]

Be More - George x Reader

"Er...I think this dough's ready to be cut into the strips."

"Yes, chef."

He coughed awkwardly, too uncomfortable to come up with any decent sort of response.

a/n: am soooo salty i fell sick in the middle of my 12 days of fics '23 for xmas last year :((( so im giving myself a lil treat by doing a short series of valentine's fics! i SO don't know how souffles work if you can't tell so pls don't come for me, and a special special thanks to lisa @neewtmas for the apron idea heheh. all fluff, which is why I got all my angst fics out of the way beforehand if you'd like a lil palate cleanser :) also totally didn't make this a songfic cuz i was struggling to find a title :} btw I headcannon that george randomly zones in and out in everyday life and this has nothing to do with how much I may or may not do this myself ALSO was strongly influenced to post this earlier by the multiverse of George aka @oblivious-idiot @bella-rose29@bobbys-not-that-small heh

warnings/tropes: lockwood and george bromance supremacy!!! baking, lots and lots of valentine's day fluff, awkward georgeeeee

word count: 2.8k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lucy handed George a steaming cup of tea, which he gratefully accepted. The three of them were having breakfast as usual, and with the last strains of winter fading, Portland Row's kitchen was entirely too bright. He closed his eyes, pretending he didn't see the way Lockwood's hand lingered on Lucy's when taking his mug. They were bad enough on any normal day, but even worse nowadays, with Valentine's Day drawing achingly closer. He felt himself begin to nod off again from the gentle and comforting steam.

He felt a mild rap against his cheek, which he turned to see is from a well-aimed sugar cube launched from across the table by Lucy. He looked up to see her staring hard at him and Lockwood poorly concealing a snigger with his cup of tea.

"George. Have you or have you not got any plans for Valentine's?"

He takes his time wiping his glasses on his shirt sleeve before responding. "Nothing much. Though I've promised Y/N I'd spend the day with her."

He watched Lucy's expression carefully, and she seemed to be watching his. Truth was, with Valentine's drawing closer and closer, George was going into a mild panic. He hadn't exactly arranged it intentionally. They had been having a quiet chat on a morning when George had been too tired from the previous night's case to strictly follow, and suddenly she was waving goodbye, promising to see him next on Valentine's Day.

He had no idea what kind of a Valentine's Day he had agreed to, or how much of a filter he had had, and he had been dropping Lucy desperate cries for help, with decreasing subtlety. Was it a date? Was she expecting a date? Sure, they had went to that play together after Lucy fell mysteriously ill, and maybe they met up for lunch once a week. But she never referred to

His eyes slowly drifted close as Lucy and Lockwood's conversation morphed into gentle white noise, enjoying the warmth of the little sun streaming through their kitchen window. It felt nice to have a little break from his intense week of baking -

Baking! George snapped wide awake, clumsily climbing out of his chair and feverishly counting the stacks of meticulously wrapped, frilly pastry goodie bags lining the kitchen counter. It had become an annual Valentine's Day tradition for George to construct these small goodie bags of baked goods for a sizeable chunk of his extended family. He even roped in Lucy and Lockwood, and as Valentine's Day approached they'd all gather around the kitchen table at night, even if it was after a case, packing the delicaices George had spent the day baking, until one of them started dropping off.

It was tedious work, but they enjoyed it and were well invested in it - Lockwood fiercely so. When a cousin had remarked that perhaps the tradition was becoming a little tired at a family gathering last Christmas, Lockwood had accidentally-but-not-really smacked his head. George relaxed as he neared towards the end of the pile - just one more day of baking, and he'd be ready to send them off.

Lucy and Lockwood were mostly finished with breakfast anyway, so he chased them out of the kitchen and got to work. Once George had his first batch of cookies in the oven, he started planning for the supplementary baked goods. For instance, he was going to make a chocolate souffle for the three of them to share over a midnight supper tomorrow.

So when the kitchen door swung open, letting in a blast of cold air, George spun around scathingly, ready to threaten Lockwood with deflated souffles. But the hiss at the tip of his tongue withered when he saw who it was.

"...Y/N?"

"Hello. Baking, are you?"

George suppressed the urge to shield the vast volumes of confectionary goodie bags littering the kitchen's surfaces.

"...yes." With some difficulty, he slowly resumed his movements, explaining how this was something he did every year. In a way, he was grateful to have something to do with his hands, because the last minute or so reminded him that he had no idea what he normally did with his hands while standing.

"Oh. Need any help?"

It took George another half-minute to process her question. "With what?"

"With the baking, obviously."

"Uh...s'alright, I've got it all handled."

"No, please, I'd love to help."

George paused mid-stir, looking comically perplexed with a smidge of flour on his nose. "What for?" He bit his tongue, hastily back-pedalling since his tone sounded aggressively suspicious. "What I mean is, you wouldn't want to spend your day here, sweating like a pig - not that you sweat, and definitely not like a pig, no - I'm the one sweating like a pig..."

What he wanted to say was, their oven was ancient and so made the kitchen stupid hot every time he baked, but failed miserably. He set down his mixing bowl in defeat. Almost instantly, she stifled a giggle, trying to pass it off as clearing her throat, and George followed her gaze to his apron in horror. What the mixing bowl had previously been hiding was the horrendously cheesy 'kiss the cook' graphic on his apron.

It had been a ridiculous gag gift from Lucy, one that he had never intended to use but was forced to after his last apron caught on fire from one of his experiments with the skull. Bursting into flames would have been more useful now, He stood there, eyes watering from the heat, determined in his refusal to acknowledge both the apron and the smile she was doing a poor job of suppressing.

"Fine. You can start with the cookie batter."

About a minute or two later, it occurred to George that perhaps it would have wise to ask how much experience she had with baking. Not a lot, he soon discovered, when her bowl nearly flew off as soon as she switched on the egg beater. He dropped his mixing bowl instantly, waving away her apologies.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't expect it to be so powerful."

He cautiously adjusted her grip on the bowl, gently guiding her fingers to a better hold.

"No, no, it's my fault. Not much of a baker?"

"...no."

"Okay, so what you do is, use one hand to hold the - other hand - hold the bowl, and the other holds the egg beater like - no, not quite."

He took a step closer, placing his hands over hers, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from her body, and the smell of her shampoo.

The last time they had been this close was on their way home from that play. With Lockwood out of town for a client meeting, and Lucy developing a mysterious case of the flu, it was only the two of them crouched under a tiny umbrella as they walked home after the play. George would have been more than happy to walk in the rain, but she was the one holding the umbrella, and was firm in her resolve to not send him back to Lucy with a head cold. With the little space between them, their cheeks brushed against each other occasionally, sending a jolt running through the side of George's face.

"Well...this is me."

George nodded dumbly, staring hard at the chips in her front door's paint, agonisingly aware of her looking at his face. He didn't dare turn to meet her gaze; they were far too close.

"I had fun today, George."

He sighed and briefly zonesout. As short as their chat was, he remembered very little, his focus only returning when she pulled her key out.

"We should do this again sometime," she was saying, as she turned the key in her lock. When he finally looked at her, there were the tinies raindrops on her eyelashes. There was something so pure and unassuming about the sight that it tugged at his heart. It made him want...more. More with her. With a brief smile, she disappeared into her home, leaving him standing alone in the rain. He stood there for a minute, prolonging the moment for some unidentifiable reason. It was a nice door. She had a nice smile.

It was as though she had read his thoughts from his eyes, for a faintly embarrassed air hung in the kitchen after that. For the next better part of an hour, they engaged in this delicate dance as they floated through the kitchen, carefully staying out of each other's way, never in the same area for long. It wasn't until she was sifting the dry ingredients that they next spoke.

"Hang on, that might be too much flou-"

As George touched her elbow, her hand jerked, sending a sizeable chunk of flour into her mixing bowl, along with a cloud of it directly in her face. He was sorry, of course, but as she spluttered and tried to blink through it, he couldn't stop the amused twist to his features. When she caught his eye, she rolled her eyes and sent a fistful of flour into his eyes. Now it was her turn to laugh as George groaned through the smarting.

"You're right, Mr. Cook, it IS hilarious!"

George scoffed, struggling to maintain his sanctimonius, above-petty-acts front as he wiped his glasses clean with as much dignity as he could muster. But on the inside, his defences were crumbling fast.

"You're acting like a child."

She looked mildly apologetic for a moment, and George felt a flash of truimph, before she raised both her flour-coated hands and resolutely streaked them across George's face.

"Egg on your face. Or should I say, flour?"

With that, all pretenses of civility were thrown out the window. The both of them swept up as many ingredients as they could and migrated to opposite ends of the kitchen table, pelting each other with everything that could be pelted. George landed a few well-aimed chocolate chips into her hair. She soaked the front of his apron with half a jug of milk, which was nearly enough to send him into hysterics. So it went on and on and on, until they ran out of supplies in their immediate reach, before resorting to shoving each other's faces into bags and tins of baking soda and powdered sugar. This, it occurred to George as he was rubbing cornstarch into her red, wheezing face, is strangely intimate.

Again, there was this tugging sensation in his chest, the kind that made him want to sit in his armchair for anywhere from half a minute to half an hour. The kind of sensation that could not be held in words. The closest he could get was the wish for a never-ending summer, or perhaps orchards full of cherry trees as sweet as the first pick. But even that fell short.

Just as she raised two fistfuls of sprinkles, the kitchen door swung open. Lockwood wandered in, looking sharp as ever in his too-small suit. The two of them smoothly parted, their faces burning under the flour, and George suddenly became very interested in the pastry dough he was kneading. He felt rather than saw Lockwood looking back and forth between the two of them, wishing that he'd just take whatever he needed from the kitchen and got out. But of course, he knew better than to engage in wishful thinking, especially with Lockwood's mildly gormless smile plain as day. "Hang on. George, you do realise that-"

Whatever it was that Lockwood was wondering if he had realised was cut off by the jam tart George shoved into his mouth, because the answer was probably yes, Lockwood, of course I realised that completely inane observation.

"Out. Out. I won't have you compromising the integrity of my kitchen." With a little difficulty, George wheeled a spluttering Lockwood littering soft pastry flakes all over his clean kitchen floor out into the hallway. He shut the door firmly and turned back apologetically, only just seeing the flour in her hair as she watched on amusedly.

"I sure hope I'm not starting up a ruckus - or was it compromising the integrity? - of your kitchen."

George felt his cheeks warming as he returned to the kitchen table. "No, of course not. You never know where Lockwood's been, is all. You're different."

Had he been standing this close to her the whole day, he wondered, close enough to see the pretty flakes in her eyes, softer than any pastry he could make? How was he supposed to look away? And how did he stand it?

"Er...I think this dough's ready to be cut into the strips."

"Yes, chef."

He coughed awkwardly, too uncomfortable to come up with any decent sort of response, embarrassedly muttering something along the lines of how there was no need for any of that. As she got absorbed into getting the strips of dough just right, George glanced at the kitchen door, to see Lockwood silently making exaggerated kissy faces at him. George picked up his rolling pin and Lockwood fled immediately, without so much as a creak from the floorboards.

Now, they finally returned to their baking with proper focus, now that they were all tired out. She seemed to have picked up some skills pretty quickly, though he still kept an eye out in case she might do something that would, say, set her hand on fire.

An hour or so later, the phone started ringing obnoxiously in the hallway. With some difficulty, George peeled off one of his disposable gloves on his way to it. When he picked up the phone, he almost wished he hadn't, because it was that same cousin from last Christmas' gathering. As his voice wore on and on, George started wishing he had let Lockwood give him another punch or two, just to set him straight.

Suddenly, he picked out a few startling words from his cousin's nasally voice, which made his heart plummet, as the calendar in the hallway came into startling focus. He wandered back to the kitchen door, numbly hearing his cousin's complaints of why no one's goodie bags had reached yet. He blankly stared at her, and she stared back confused, slowing down her cutting of the strips concernedly. After a second or two, he hung up the phone, but was in too much shock to lower it.

"Today's date," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Today's date. It's not the 13th. I thought it was the 13th. Today is the 14th. Valentine's day was today, not tomorrow."

Even as he was saying those words, the calm look on her face told him exactly what he had feared - that she had known all along.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought this was what you wanted to do!"

"Unpaid labour."

"What?"

"You spent your Valentine's Day doing exhausting, difficult, unpaid labour." He clumsily placed the phone down on the kitchen counter, struggling to find the right words as he fought against the embarrassment. "I am so sorr- just a minute, I might have some loose change somewhere here-"

"Don't." George was spiraling with shame, kicking himself for his oversight, and she still had the gall to look that pretty and kind. "I didn't mind any of it one bit, I promise."

"I promised you something fun."

"George, this is the most fun I've ever had baking, and I've been making pineapple upside down cakes since before I could - oh."

She broke off when she finally looked up to see the growing shock on George's face. She nibbled at the inside of her cheek nervously, trying to gauge his reaction.

"So you do know how to bake."

"Only a little?"

He took in the sight of her apologetic smile, the careful dusting of flour on her face and her suspiciously clean clothes. "You could have said."

"Oh, but I was having so much fun." George rolled his eyes. "I spent the day learning how to construct the most adorable pastry goodie bags I have ever seen, and I did it all with my boyfriend. Believe me, it doesn't get more fun than this."

Not for the first time that day, George stared at her in wonder, like he couldn't quite figure out how she was real. Even now, when all she was doing was merely existing, words failed him. He had a feeling he'd spend lifetimes chasing shadows, trying to pin what was gone before it bloomed, and he still wouldn't be able to find the right words. There was no other way to put it, or colour it - he wished they were more.

He hesitantly extended his hand, brushing just a speck of the huge handprint of flour on her face with his thumb. He turned, walking out into the hallway, but then just as immediately wheeled back.

"Your WHAT?"

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[mandiemegatron]

ꜰᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ

A Trafalgar Law/YN mini ficlet ✨️💖

Rated: G

Fluff, slow romance, Law being annoyed that he has emotions.

A/N: A lil gifty-poo for my friend @baka-tsuki - I hope you have a better night bestie and I hope you enjoy this lil treat 👀✨️💖

We love soft Law in this household! I hope you all enjoy 🥺💖✨️

Header by @baka-tsuki / @baka-tsuki-2 💖

The first time Laws skin brushed yours, it was like a spark had run through his fingers as he handed you a cup of tea, crawling up his entire arm until the tingles settled at the back of his neck. You didn't notice how the tips of his ears burned, and he breathed a soft sigh of relief when you turned away. He locked himself in his office the rest of that night, his face buried in his hands as an irritated huff left him every once in a while.

Annoying.

The second time, your shoulders had bumped each others as you leaned on the railing up top, enjoying the last few moments of sun shine as it set for the day. He knew you loved sunsets, always finding you watching the sun fall into nothingness every time the sub was ascended and somehow found solace in spending those quiet moments with you.

His heart skipped a beat as you sighed, an almost lost look on your face as the sun finally disappeared beyond the waterline, looking up at him with a small smile. It skipped again as you thanked him for staying; he was unable to return the smile but gave a short nod instead, basking in the grin you gave in turn.

Incredibly annoying.

The third time, you'd stumbled into his office, holding your bleeding left shoulder. Your knees hit the ground and he was out of his chair in a flash, gently yet firmly grasping you by the uninjured shoulder.

"Y/N-ya, what the hell happened?!"

He hated how his voice cracked, shock and worry slipping through the cracks in his skin as he flew into doctor mode. He didn't even give you a chance to respond as he summoned a room, the both of you disappearing in a blue bubble and ending up in the infirmary.

He helped you up onto a table, making quick work to scrub his hands as speedily as possible at the sink before rushing back over to snap on his medical gloves. He gently removed your bloodied hand, giving a low huff as he examined the damage.

"O-one of the boilers had a leak- I didn't move in time- OUCH, mother fucker, can you not?!"

He glared down at you as you snapped at him, his thumb pressing a bit too roughly right on the border of your burned skin. You both stared each other down before you relented, giving a roll of your eyes before looking down at your dirtied work boots.

There was an excruciatingly heavy silence that hung around you both as he worked, his fingers practically flying over your skin as he disinfected and brushed a salve over the burn. You hissed and groaned, squeezing your eyes and hands into fists, fighting back another snark as you bit the inside of your cheek.

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings-"

Your head snapped back to him, and you gave him the darkest look you could, trying to convey that you already understood and felt stupid enough as it was. It took him a moment, but it clicked eventually, causing him to sigh with an air of annoyance as he reached for the gauze.

"... at least I'll have a cool scar?"

His eyes were wide as he turned back to you, unable to wrap his head around how quickly your attitude changed, an almost cheeky grin covering your features as your feet swung back and forth slightly.

"Woman, you are absolutely insane, did you know that?"

You gave a chuckle and shrugged, unable to keep the grin from your lips.

"Ah, but of course! It keeps the locals away."

Law couldn't stop the snort that bubbled up, rolling his own eyes as he began to wrap your upper arm and shoulder, his lips pressed into a firm line for a moment before he retorted,

"No wonder you fit right in. Apparently, I have a habit of adopting weirdos." His voice was almost mocking, though a joking tone made its way through easier than it had before. How he ended up here, able to make jokes with one of the most annoying yet cute people ever, perplexed and irritated him to no end.

Absolutely, incredibly annoying.

He had just finished cleaning you up, moving less than a space away as he snapped off his gloves, tossing them onto his tray when you suddenly grasped his one tattooed hand with your uninjured one, a gentle thumb brushing over his knuckles.

"You are the best doctor in the world," you gushed with a slightly smaller smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to his side. Your cheeks burned as you finally looked up at his face, feeling your stomach flip-flop as his own cheeks flushed pink.

"Yes, I'm aware."

He internally smacked himself over the head, sighing with a huff as he ran the hand you didn't touch through his messy hair.

"... I, uh ... thank you."

You gave him a swift thumbs up and hopped off the table, quickly making your way to the doors as you threw over your shoulder,

"Anytime, boss. See you at dinner!"

Before he could respond, you flew out the doors the second you opened them, slight panic on your face as you booked it to your shared room with Ikkaku, ripping the door open and slamming it shut. Your back hit the door and you exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Ugh, disgusting. Who said you could give me feelings, you rat bastard," you murmured to yourself.

The fourth time was that night, out on the deck once more as the sun slowly fell behind looming storm clouds. Law made his way to you and glanced over your wrapped shoulder, ignoring your sounds of protest as he gently poked and prodded.

"Oi, come on man, that sucks- ouch, Law!"

He stopped, his hands not moving from your skin though his eyes met yours, an unrecognizable look in his eyes. You rarely, if ever, called him his name. He decided then and there that he could listen to you say it over and over and never get sick of it.

"Y/N-ya, I apologize."

His voice was low, genuine in his apology as his eyes never left yours. His heart jumped when your eyes flickered to his lips, your own pressing into a thin line as you stared back up at him. It was only a few moments before you sighed softly through your nose, eyes closing as you leaned into him.

"I'm too tired to argue with you," You moaned out, the side of your face meeting his chest as he turned to hold you. He was stiff, an embarrassed look on his face as he thanked whatever gods were up there that everyone else had retired inside for the night.

As the sun finally disappeared, Law looked down at you, his gaze meeting the top of your head. After a moment, he gave a sigh of his own, his forehead meeting the top of your noggin as he finally began to relax. It felt so foreign, having a warm body in his arms and the feeling of warmth that filled his chest.

"We should go in," he murmured into your hair, unwilling to move or lift his face from your hair. His stomach flipped when you chuckled softly, pulling away enough to look up at him with an almost pleading expression.

"Can we just stay out here a little longer? Please?"

Your plea was so quiet, the sound almost not meeting his ears, and he couldn't fight back the small smile that washed over his lips as he relented.

"Alright brat, just a little longer."

Maybe... not that annoying.

A/N: WEEE WELL, there we have it !!! It took me about 3 hours to write and beta so if there's any mistakes, it's cos I was stoned and missed it! 😂✨️💖

I hope you all enjoyed, please like and relbog if you did, we love a soft Law in this house 😭😭😭😭

Love you all, be good my little tangerines! ❤️

[gothcryptid-art]

simon 'ghost' riley x reader headcanons

fully gender neutral + no descriptors because ghost is for the people. implied that reader is military tho. all lowercase bc im cool. wacky ass writing. no other warnings besides ghost being a deeply insecure individual

(literally just writing this bc i have the brainrot so bad i spent 95 hard earned canadian dollars on this stupid game im not even good at it its amazing i love it anyways enjoy u filthy animals)

- he's a dog guy. he secretly wishes he couldve had a stabler life so maybe he could have one or two. If you have a dog, he is ALL over it. will buy treats, toys, enrichment, literally anything and everything. he just wants to spoil the lil baby

- absolutely does not know how to cook, he can only use a microwave smh. if you can cook for him tho, he will absolutely get all heart eyed kickin his feet under ur dinner table twirling his hair round his finger he is in LOVE

- THAT BEING SAID!!!! he makes a bangin cup of tea. his fav is earl grey and he loves a good london fog, but with his line of work he just doesnt have the time. thats why every time he actually goes home, the first thing he does is make a proper cuppa.

- it's very difficult for him to trust anybody, much less fall in love, so when he falls he falls HARD. he'll go out of his way to do nice things for you. if you're out on a mission together and have some downtime he'll just grab your knives and sharpen them for you. He's already doing his own, why not yours too? He lovesss doing small acts like that for u. he knows a little kindness can go a long way.

- the same goes the other way around, if you do literally anything for him the man is SWOONING. he's about to head out but can't find something, and u pop outta nowhere to place it in his hands with a kiss on the cheek of his mask? he's planning a proposal as soon as hes out the door. he loves u. amazing.

- he knows he's a good looking guy, but before he shows you his face he's super scared about you not liking how he looks. He worries that he isn't your 'type' and once you see his face you'll get bored of him and move on to someone more entertaining like Soap or Alejandro

- He's not great at verbalizing his emotions, and tends to bottle things up. if he does it for long enough he'll get way too in his head and he'll start distancing himself from u (unintentionally). one day it gets to be too much and u just sit him down and make him tell u whats up

- he's just. not good at talking abt his feelings. his sentences have super long pauses where he overthinks everything he's saying. he's trying not to hurt your feelings if it's something relating to you, but sometimes that means he wont tell u the whole truth. but hes trying ok? he WANTS to communicate with you, he's just gotta learn how essentially from scratch.

- but man if ur able to break down his walls a little, and he can tell that you see him as a person and not just some mysterious puzzle to solve, he will go to the ends of the earth for u.

- he will devote a lot of his downtime to just being around you. he just likes your presence, hes the type of guy to want to sit in a room together and do your own things. he'll post up at a desk and look over the next mission's paperwork while you chill in a corner with a hobby of yours

if u made it this far hell yeah i hope u enjoyed, this is absolutely just self indulgent but i figured the world must be blessed as well. have a good one yall