#I really like this fic and have special place in my heart. I plan to make more covers.

[tyrasanege]

Fan made comic cover for first chapter of Wobbly Hearts by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off

without tittle

only hand

My reaction when I first saw Wobbly Hearts

Me: huh, just another fic but with my favorite headcanon about Kai. Probable isn't that bad, and author will not take seriously about read problems.

Me fue minutes later

Me: oh...

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?�� Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[b00tyliciousbabe]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙

oddballs and eggnog

goofybf! x THICC male reader

summary: love me a nerdy man that’s got a lil spice to him. plus a lil xmas lore!

notes: HI BEAUTIFULS! merry xmas to those who celebrate. it’s been a while fr, my bad dawgs uni work has been ploughing my ass so violently im reconsidering if a degree is even for me. but as a masochistic bottom, i had to channel my energy elsewhere; thus, this fic is just me showing the variety of my tastes as the true indecisive femboy that i am. show me a cute guy and i will plan my whole life with him. i need to get a grip.

originally, i canonically wrote this character with ginger hair (y’all know i fold for redheads), but the more i kept writing, the clearer it became to me that dark brown hair/black aligned with my OWN understanding of him. it’s all fiction anyways so feel free to adapt body types as you see fit. enjoy my lovelies 🎀

album rec: flo - access all areas. these girlies have my heart. been following them since about 2022 and they are genuinely my fave artists, cannot wait for flo world domination.

you guys had mutual acquaintances for a couple years, but it wasn’t until the two of you got to university that your friendship really blossomed. the engineering student didn’t have the best luck when it came to relationships; in fact, people would only toy with his emotions when they wanted something from him, so he learnt to put up a wall of cynicism.

these barriers he had fortified for his own protection made him quite a reserved guy. never cruel or nasty. just quiet. sure, he wasn’t a complete loner, he had a few VERY close bros who he’d let in, but it was clear that in this silence, he was safe.

he’s super handsy, whether that means pulling you on his lap, be it at parties or when he’s gaming, or placing his hands in your back pocket when y’all walk to class, he just wants to hold you. probably got something to do with the fact that he needs to make sure you’re real and not the angel he believes you to be. you love your needy bf and his craving for physical touch.

this is kinda juxtaposed by how flustered he gets by your words. the minute you whisper in his ear, he could cum in his jeans on the spot. he gets so red when you compliment him which makes him squeeze you tighter.

he wasn’t a virgin before meeting you, he’d had a few hookups but nothing sexual with someone he genuinely cared about. as a result, it made sense why he was very nervous when it came to your first time together.

to relax him, you decided to give him a blowjob to ease the tension and allow him to cum quick in the first round so he’d last longer during anal. sat back on the edge of his bed, he wore a vest and baggy joggers, awaiting your fingers to unleash his raging boner. you knelt down and flashed a comforting smile to him, which he failed to mirror perfectly.

‘we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready to. I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.’ you said concerned, stroking his abs, clear to you that he was stressing.

‘nah baby, i want this so bad. it’s just gotta be really special because you’re really special to me.’ he said gripping your chin.

‘i love you, y/n. like a lot.’

‘i know that you weirdo, i love you too, you mean so much to me.’

‘now, lemme show you how much.’ you said coyly, to which he was more than happy to oblige.

when i tell you, your man eats so well that his cum is literally like milk. the typa white, thick, pearly cum that you would swallow every drop of, because it truly is just disrespectful not to. the first time he came was a surprise for the two of you. he didn’t realise how much he loved seeing his cum all over your face, decorating your juicy, wet lips. the head you gave him was so good, he napped for 2 hours straight after you drained him. but that deffo changed him for the better.

his hobbies include boxing and gaming. he’s such a nerd he makes his own demo projects, playing with his classmates. you always chastise him for not making his hobby a lucrative endeavour - your boy’s got a talent and he doesn’t seem to know it. equally, he loves his legos and comics just as much as he enjoys coding, making you the prettiest bouquet of lego flowers for your first date. after spending some time walking, he took you back to his place and y’all spent the entire night binging his favourite marvel and dc films.

one time it was his birthday and you thought it be a good idea to make a short graphic novel of the journey of your relationship - ending steamily with you pregnant.

‘baby, i love this so much! who knew how sexy you’d look with a baby bump?’ ‘anything can happen in the multiverse’ you laugh, as he kissed your jaw.

‘I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight.’

as we have established, he’s far from experienced. he holds your hand through missionary always because it makes him feel safe. makes so many jokes during it as a way to deflect. lowkey loves being choked. you took the lead most of the time before, using him as a pole and ride the shit out of him.

but, that night he ploughed you with a sense of purpose, so deep and mercilessly that your insides were moulded into an incubator for any hypothetical foetus he would soon impregnate you with. after, he laid curled up next to you, caressing the belly that he had now filled with

‘i hate biology sometimes,’ he says breathlessly. ’you’d look so good with our lil baby growing inside your belly.’

your boyfriend is the goofiest mf ever; playing practical jokes on all his friends and fulfilling his role as your comedian. definitely one of your favourite characteristics of his.

his sleeper build is INSANE. he might appear tall and lanky, but he is far from it. bench pressing more than 100 kilos with one arm - the brudda is basically superman. he’s what you’d get if clark kent had ginger hair, and was a huge weirdo.

though he cannot dance to save his life. he used to be very awkward and shy, but the minute them clothes are off and you two are in the sheets? stroke game is giving pornstar baby girl lemme tell you! ever since your first time, it’s like you awaken the sexual drive in him that’s been missing all his life. this, paired for his complete adoration for you makes him a lethal weapon in bed - quite literally, your man casually packs an 8 inch pussy destroyer with veins that massage and pummel your gummy walls so well.

after this moment he became the BIGGEST TEASE. slapping his dick all over your face. as you chase his dick like a good puppy, he giggles at how desperate you are. ‘sweet Jesus you feel good’. ‘holy shit’. ‘don’t act like you don’t love it.’ painting hickeys all over your neck . he loves when ppl ask you because of how flustered you get, makes him want to mark you more. he’s no longer shy to the world and he thanks you everyday for that. living to call you princess - in both a mocking and endearing tone, he loved toying with your nipples because you’re his lil doll. in cowgirl he will play with them whilst jerking you off to get you to cum all over his abs. and! he LOVES eating ass - like almost obsessively, as if he’s high of your pussy.

he smells so good. so good. you always act like a bitch in heat whenever he steps out of the shower with a towel skimpily wrapped around his adonis belt.

your bf loves playing with his cum and using his dick as a paintbrush to decorate your belly, butt, and face. ‘my masterpiece’ + ‘my muse’ he professes. somehow managing to entrance you to always stroke his dick during makeout sessions. he brings his hands to play with your hair, knowing that his dick is in extremely good hands with you - literally. always pulling you off of his dick because he is really sensitive and ur mouth is a fucking weapon, but will show you that he’s the boss and could leave you bedridden for a couple days after a good fuck.

things he would say drunk off of eggnog:

‘i would die a happy man beneath those beautiful cheeks of yours’

‘put ur hole on my North Pole.’

‘ay, you Don’t get to call me handsome unless you’re gonna HANDsome of those fat cheeks of yours to my lap.’

‘come on, I’ve been a good boy, Santa says gimme some of that pussy you know I love so much.’

‘that ass of yours, come here lemme unwrap it.’

this man has you written into his destiny. he always dreamed of raising a son and dressing him up in the flyest outfits and with you, that desire became reality. you too truly are a match made in heaven.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙

taglist:

@ghostking4m

@gayaristocrat

@lysanderplume

@acoustickitten

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

[chocosvt]

HER | teaser.

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader teaser word count: 1.4k actual word count: 140k (yes, u read that correctly) genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings for the full fic: drug use (weed, coke, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: as i descend to one knee and cup my hands together at your mercy, i offer a tidbit to the wonwoo fic i have finally completed after two years (lol). i know i ALWAYS say this, but i truly wasn't expecting the fic to be THIS FUCKING LONG! thankfully, i planned it well and although i lost momentum countless times (nervously side eyes the approximate & several 5 month breaks i took in between), my dedication to seeing the characters through & "completing" their growth was smth that i could not leave behind!

not having posted a fic for two years is prob a little much :0 so hopefully the length of this makes up for it (?) usually my writing is just teehee silly little romance agonizing slowburn surface level dilemmas of the self BUT THIS ONE HAS A LITTLE KICK!

so read it if you want! don't read it if you don't want!

hearts & flowers, xoxoxo (me :*)

UPDATE: read the first part here!

—MARCH 19TH.

“I have a relatively big favour to ask of you.”

 No. Wonwoo didn’t want anything to do with favours.

The fact that Seokmin had actively picked out his presence in the coffee shop like he was some shiny contortion of plastic had actually offended Wonwoo. He came here for two things: to not be bothered, which his friend knew, and to work on the book he was halfway through typing and had been halfway through typing for the past six months. Call it writer’s block, or an inspiration drought, or an absolutely depressing lack of drive—it had been hanging over the writer with an annoying persistence and it seemed that no number of lemony scones or cold coffees were going to make it vanish.

“Uh, Wonwoo?”

“Sorry… what?” He forced his gaze to shift from the blank page on his laptop to Seokmin’s apologetic, softly expressional face, slightly flushed from his time outdoors in the chilled March weather.

“I was just wondering if you’d be up for a favour—a pretty big one—and I know this is your special creativity spot, but she’s been like, breathing down my neck about it and I can’t put it off again.”

“Whose been breathing down your neck?”

At first, Seokmin didn’t say a word, or even make a sound. His lips twitched for a moment, but then he pressed them together and his chest visibly sucked in with a breath. God, Wonwoo hated the suspense and he hated Seokmin for interrupting him when he had been so stupidly close to putting a sentence down that he probably would have back-spaced in frustration a minute later.  

“Y’know…” he trailed off, “Her.”

Her.

No, not her, you.

But most people—if not everyone—referred to you by an alias that had seemed to stick so well the majority believed it actually was your name. When people said her they meant Her, and so in a confusing mess of finger-pointing they really meant you. Come to think of it, Wonwoo had no idea where the nickname even came from or who gave it to you or what it even meant.

And he was perfectly fine with never knowing.

“What?” Wonwoo deadpanned. “What on earth could she want to do with me? She doesn’t even know me.” He slid down in his chair, fingers pulling at his circle-lensed glasses so they tilted uncomfortably across his nose bridge. “Or, is this a joke?”

“Oh—no! Absolutely not!” His friend was insistent on proclaiming, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m being serious.”

“Why don’t I believe you then?”

“Okay, well, if you let me explain everything, it’ll all make sense. I said I know someone who writes really well—”

“Meaning me?”

“Yes, meaning you. And the only reason that was even brought up is because she wants to write a book.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help it. He laughed—a very short, disbelieving laugh that flashed a transient smile to his face as he readjusted his crooked glasses. You were the last person he would ever envision wanting to write a book. He then navigated the trackpad on his laptop, deciding to close the document simply titled, 01, that harboured the fleet of pages to his own current work in progress.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo disregarded, “sounds like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you the truth!” Seokmin exclaimed, gripping onto the metal back of the café chair like he was squeezing someone’s taunt shoulders. “She won’t tell me about what, okay? Just that she’s been thinking the idea for a while now. It’s not like I didn’t try to get details. But she refused—said the only person who can know is whoever’s going to help her. Look, y’have to understand, she was pestering me about it nonstop. And you’re my only writer friend!”

“Well, you’re about to have none.” He answered, reaching for his coffee cup but stopping it just short of his lips. “How serious is she about this, anyway?” Wonwoo sighed. “Do you know how much fucking time you need to dedicate to writing a book?”

He stomached a slow, somewhat grimacing sip as he tasted the coffee’s coldness, meanwhile Seokmin swallowed heavily, and at last pulled out the chair he’d been white-knuckling to take a seat.

“Yes, I’m aware it takes time. I know that. And she is serious or else I wouldn’t be here, bothering you. She takes everything seriously.” The boy began unbuttoning his sleek black jacket. “Really, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe you’ll meet her once and she’ll decide she can’t stand you, and then you’re off the hook for life.”

“Yeah, well have you ever considered what might happen if I can’t stand her? Are my feelings even being considered? Minutely?”

“Minutely, they are being considered.”

“Liar.”

It wasn’t that Wonwoo disliked you.

In actuality, you scared him more than anything. But to be associated with you was to be drawn into your life and caught like a firefly in a glass jelly jar. The proof was right in front of him—to Wonwoo’s eyes, Seokmin was basically your little mailman that scrambled around in hectic nature to do your bidding, because most tasks apparently weren’t worth the time or effort.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to rope me into this. You know I can hardly write my own shit, right?” Wonwoo said bitterly, wishing it was the opposite, “my mind is a desolate, blank canvas of fuck-all and if she thinks I’m writing it then she needs a reality check.”

“No, no—of course you won’t write it!” Seokmin reassured him with his big, opalescent smile. “Really, you’re just giving tips, maybe guiding her process, helping with the planning… you know, this could be facilitated so much easier if you spoke to Her yourself!”

“So, my nightmare?” Wonwoo huffed, shaking his leg.

In an instant, Seokmin had whipped out his phone, tapping around the screen quickly using his thin pointer finger.

“I’m just going to pull up her schedule. It’s always pretty packed, but more into the summer break, it thins out a little. “

Wonwoo exhaled, staring off into the warm, afternoon sunlight that hailed in through the windows, striking all the shimmering flecks and pieces of dust afloat in the café air. When he breathed in again, he could smell the luxurious coffees brewing in their rich and distinctive notes. It was such a beautiful day—still chilly as the snow outdoors began to thaw—but pleasant nonetheless.

“This is such a fucking waste.”

And Wonwoo spent it being miserable.

“No, it’ll be useful. Trust.” Seokmin chirped.

“You’re trying to dip me in your optimism gloss again.”

His friend smiled affectionately, tilting his head.

“This will be good. You’ve been a hermit since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo scoffed, “so you think it’s a good idea to shove me with the person I relate to least on the entire planet?”

“Really? The least? So, what you’re saying is, you relate more to serial killers? Or animal abusers? Or like, literal fasc—”

“Stop.”

“You want to do this. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll set you up.”

A part of Wonwoo knew there might be no wriggling out of the situation, especially with Seokmin sitting across from him, characteristically eager and brightly pushy as always, like a goddamn salesman. For now, it could be easier to let himself get cuffed.

“Can I at least have some time to think it over?”

“Uh… well… the thing is… the thing with that is—”

“You’ve cornered me?”

“I wouldn’t word it like that.”

“… Okay.” Wonwoo removed his glasses, shoved his knuckles tender but deep into his eye sockets, massaging through flashes of white as he came to accept a fate he didn’t know even existed in his astrology. “Just, I don’t know—fuck—schedule me in wherever.”

“Ha! It doesn’t exactly work like that.”

“I really don’t give a damn how it works, Seokmin.”

“Right,” his friend laughed nervously, “I promise that I’ll get back to you pronto. Sorry for the disturbance. And, uh, good luck.”

 “With what part?” Wonwoo grumbled, fixing his spectacles back on to clarify Seokmin’s sympathetic face, the light bouncing off his head of brassy hair like a disco ball. “My incapability to write a goddamn thing or the fact I have to help your perfectionist friend who’s probably going to chew me up and spit me out?”

 “Both parts.” Seokmin grinned. “It can only go up from here.”

✧✎ a/n: tada!

this is the introductory scene! i think i've read it so many times that i could probably recite it from memory at this point ;_; anyway! as i mentioned, i know that it's been a hot minute since i last uploaded any scenarios. but one way or another this monster is getting posted! i did NOT have this lurking on my poor tired macbook causing it to overheat and sputter and spew FOR NOTHING!!

i swear that i don't plan for my works to get this goddamn long. before i hardly planned at all. maybe now i plan too much? i guess i have yet to find a happy medium!! but again, i do hope the size of the fic makes up for all that missed time :_( life has been ruff. but this fic was there as a handy distraction mechanism (when i prob should have been facing reality fhwejfhwk) so i guess it's been a double-edged sword!

also just want to preface that the reader goes by an alias throughout the fic. i'm not sure if this is like... a very huge or popular concept nowadays? so if it hits your reading ear a bit weird at first i apologize! but i swear it has purpose!! *chekhovs rule* *winkwink*

ANYWAY! no more rambling!

i'm pondering the idea of adding a taglist for those who are interested, just as i did with honey boy :3 so if that tickles ur fancy then feel free to each out!

BUT PLZ HEED THE FOLLOWING:

the fic in its entirety will be split across 6 parts

the word count of each part ranges from 22-24k!

i do not YET have a set posting schedule, simply bc i am unsure of how long it will take ppl to get through each part

(so that would be smth i'd have to gauge afterward)

REVISIT THE WARNINGS!!

i will not be flagging mature/nsfw/triggering scenes throughout the fic as the fic itself already has a heavy nature to it

so pls read the warnings!

if there's any additional questions i encourage u to swing by :3

*deep breath*

THANK YOU!!!!!

[impish-baby]

Hi! I hope you make sure to drink some water, eat a little something, and keep warm. May I request a fic where let's say the hero's sidekick gets kidnapped by a group of villains? When they wake up in an unfamiliar place they panic and start to regress but they're trying to hide it when they begin to get interrogated...(they're failing miserably at hiding it)

Maybe the villain and sidekick are hybrids? Up to you. Thank you and keep safe!

In April, I open my bill - platonic yandere! villians × sidekick! reader (pt.1) - 🪶🗡

You're so getting benched after this.

It's not even your fault that you were caught! Maybe you begged a little to go out on a mission, but it was supposed to be a simple stake out, not an ambush. Nobody has let you out on the field without a babysitter since you started training! And the one time you are, you're kidnapped. Great. You'll never hear the end of it.

To make things better, there's a power suppressor strapped to your ankle. Cowards. It not like you're already bound to the damm chair you woke up in, they just had to go the extra mile. Maybe they see you as an actual threat? A tiny bit of pride swells in your chest.

You are a threat! You're part of the best hero team there is, doesn't matter that you aren't debuted out to the public yet, you're still an important member!

.....they're going to come save you soon, you know it.

There's no way you've been passed out for very long, a few hours at most, right? Yeah, it won't be too long now.

On the bright side, you're not beat up! A small donk to the back of the head and that's it. Your wings ache from being fixed to your back, but at least you'll be able to stretch them when you're back to base. Gotta look at the positive things.

When the door clicks open you're just expecting to see the same idiot goons that grabbed you in the first place, not the nemesis of your mentor.

You take it back, there's absolutely no positives.

"My, you are certainly a treat.. I should've given Helix and his crew more credit." Asphodel has a pleasant smile on his face, it's the opposite of comforting. "You're the one that's gotten the city all in a buzz, huh? The little sidekick Apollo took so graciously under his wing.."

You're not scared. You're not. You're terrified.

So much blood has been split by the villian you could fill an ocean and still have some leftover. He's cruel, careless, the last hero he sinked his claws into was dropped unceremoniously on the steps of the capital building. The only thing your team might be retrieving is a corpse.

"So, dearest, I'm awfully curious. Everyone is really. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" A plush stool is dragged in front of you so the villain can sit, his own wings spread out gracefully behind him. Lucky bastard.

When you only glare silently he chuckles, his smile turning into a smirk. "Aw, are you shy? Poor thing, here, I'll go first to ease your nerves." Asphodel holds put his hand like he expects you to shake it, "I imagine you know my name already, so I won't bore you with telling you things you're already aware of, but I have very special plans for you. It's such a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You'll die alone. The last thing you'll have done before going out is getting in a stupid argument with everyone because they said you weren't ready to do things solo. At least you can't tell a dead person I told you so. Nobody can blame you for the wetness slipping down your cheeks either.

"Oh, are those tears already?" He feighns surpise, placing the previously outstretched hand over his heart. "I thought you were a hero in training? How unbecoming of someone under the city's golden boy's tutelage."

A pathetic chirp almost leaves your lips before you bite your tongue. You just want your nest. You want to wake up like this was a horrible nightmare and have Apollo baby you like you're a delicate fledgling again.

"I haven't touched a single hair on your pretty head and already you've started with the waterworks." He gives a disappointed sigh, "perhaps that's why you've been here a week with no pesky heros showing up, they finally have a chance to be rid of a weakling among their ranks."

A week? No. No, someone would've come for you by then.

"Hm?" He leans towards you, cupping your cheek surprisingly gentle. It still makes you flinch. "You don't believe me, do you, dear?" Asphodel hums, leaning back and pulling a phone from his pocket. "Here, see for yourself."

The mission was Monday, it's 10 pm on Saturday now.

A news report just rubs salt in the wound, there's not one mention of your name. Not a missing persons report. There's nothing to attribute that someone's been looking for you at all.

"It's a little mean of them, isn't it?" He turns the video off before putting the phone back into his pocket, "Abandoning you here with me, don't fret though, darling."

A broken chirp finally does leave you when he reaches to pet your head, his eyes widening almost as much as yours are. "Oh. Oh. That does make my job so much easier."

He stands up in a blink of an eye to reach under your costume, shushing you softly. "It's ok, I'll only be a moment." Asphodel gasps when he brushes your feathers, stepping back and wagging a finger at you. "Naughty thing, do you know how bad for you that is? Goodness.."

You're still frozen still with fear and shock, not even moving when he starts to untie you from the chair. "Honestly.. we'll hope that you haven't done any permanent damage, it'll be a shame if you're grounded because of this."

You were told that it's safe. That you still used your wings enough, so you didn't need to worry about your flight being affected. You trusted Apollo and the others more than anything.

"There we are.." Asphodel also goes ahead and takes off your cloak for you once the restraints are gone, cutting two slits into the back of your undershirt with his talons so your wings can slip through. "Perfect, that must feel so much better."

It does, or it would if he didn't immediately start picking through your feathers.

"Hush," he's being careful, straightening anything that's out of place with a practiced hand. "I'm helping, my dove. You're safe, those old nasty heroes that betrayed you don't matter. Just focus on me."

You don't mean to melt into his arms, but all the emotions you feel mix into a confusing mess. Being held makes it go away a little.

"Good, you're such a good little one, aren't you?" He coos, words dripping with honeyed sweetness. "You don't think about anything else other than feeling safe with me, that's all you need to know."

(a/n: apologies..I got away from the prompt with this I think qwq hopefully it was still enjoyable! I'll do something more with reader regressing if there's interest)

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL - chapter four

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: swearing, underage drinking

themes: angst, fluff

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys covid doesn’t exist in this fic. i’m also losing all motivation and starting to hate everything i write tbh.. don’t know if i wanna continue this, but if anyone really wants it, i’ll try my best 🤞

“any plans for your birthday?”

paige’s gaze meets azzi’s through her phone screen, a smile playing at her lips. in a matter of days, paige would turn 19— she’s already committed and began at the university of connecticut, making her debut game in november.

azzi, being 17— 18 in november— continues her journey in high school, being a senior and navigating her way through college decisions and what she wants her future to look like. but her college decision came easy— she barely had any considering to do, before settling on uconn, just like paige had.

“nah, nothing special. just hanging out with everyone,” paige shrugs. by everyone, she means her new teammates at uconn, who’s she bonded with nicely.

“i wish i could celebrate with you,” azzi sighs, although mischief swirls in her eyes. she moves her phone, blocking the view of her face, trying to hide her nagging grin.

little does paige know, in three days, azzi will be with her, ready to surprise her in a way she’ll never forget. azzi and her family have been planning this for weeks now, coordinating with paige’s own family to make sure everything would go off without a hitch.

“ugh, don’t get me started,” paige groans, running a hand over her face, wishing so desperately that azzi could be with her— especially on her birthday. “it won’t be the same without you, az.”

azzi tilts her head, her grin growing, making her dimples pop. “i know, but just think about it! you’ll be with your new teammates— i’m sure they’ll make it fun,” the younger girl replies, trying to sound as casual as possible but is unable to hide her excitement.

“true, but i want you to be here,” paige insists, eyes sparkling with the longing she’s always felt towards azzi.

“i’m sure it’ll be just fine,” azzi nods, confidence radiating off the brunette.

as they wrap up their call, azzi can hardly contain her excitement she feels to surprise her best friend. in just three days, she’ll be right by paige’s side, ready to celebrate in a way that feels more significant than just a birthday. azzi smiles at the thought of paige’s face when she’ll lay eyes on her, causing small giggles to escape her lips, mixing with a flutter of anxiety. as she imagines the moment, azzi feels a sudden gratitude for their strong friendship, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, they’ll always have each other, regardless of their distance.

“mom, where’d you put my nike sweatpants?”

azzi frantically scrambles through her bag, stuffing her belongings in each pocket, trying to distract herself from the fact her plane leaves in an hour.

“i thought i put them in the laundry!” her mom calls from the kitchen, her voice calm yet slightly panicked.

azzi doesn’t waste a minute to dash to the laundry basket, rummaging deeper, her heart racing. when she doesn’t find the specific sweatpants in mind, she speaks up. “they’re not there!”

katie, azzi’s mother, rushes into her daughter’s bedroom, going straight to the closet. after only a moment of looking, she pulls out the nike pants, annoyance clear on her face.

“didn’t bother to check your own closet?” katie says, her eyebrows pinching together.

“whatever!” azzi shouts, her anxiety heightening to extreme amounts. she makes sure to grab paige’s birthday present, placing it carefully in the corner of the bag. she finishes off her bag, adding finishing touches— toothbrush, toothpaste, all the smaller items— before zigging it up. she throws it over her shoulder, hurriedly walking to the door.

“ready to go?” katie questions.

“yep, let’s go,” azzi says, her mind continuing to buzz from nerves.

out the door and into the car, azzi gently tosses in her duffel, tightening her seatbelt across her chest. katie turns the key, igniting the car to life, quickly taking off onto the street.

“do you think we’ll make it on time?” azzi asks, scrunching her lips into a line, anxiously fiddling with her fingers.

“it’ll be close, but you’ll make it,” katie notes, confidence in her tone.

ten minutes into the car ride to the airport, azzi pulls out her phone, dying to text her best friend.

hiii wyd? azzi pushes send, a light smirk on her face.

considering it’s paige’s birthday today, azzi had already said happy birthday earlier— at midnight, when they were on facetime, to be precise. but it’s no shocker the two girls were talking once again.

hey azzzz, not much, u? her response is automatic.

a: just driving

p: oh yeah? where u going?

a: out to eat

azzi smiles to herself, knowing damn well she’s not going ‘out to eat.’

p: that’s cool. miss seeing u so bad

a: miss u more, always

with that, azzi puts away her phone, focusing on the scene through the car window. she imagines paige’s reaction— her bright blue eyes widening, a huge smile erupting across her face. she can’t help but lean her head back against the seat, the smile still lingering on her lips. her heart races in anticipation of seeing paige, her best friend.

as they finally arrives at the airport, katie parks the car, to which the brunette jumps out, reaching for her duffel. she gives her mom a quick, reassuring hug, before dashing off towards the front doors, pushing them wide open. the airport buzzes with chaos— travelers going in and out, conversations being had all around her. all azzi focuses on, however, is walking towards the terminal, the familiar sounds of announcements and rolling suitcases creating somewhat of a comforting backdrop. taking a deep breath, azzi pulls her phone out once again, checking the time: only ten minutes until boarding.

it only takes azzi three minutes to get through security and complete all the airport checks. the announcement for her connecticut flight finally comes blasting through the speakers, and azzi’s pulse quickens with excitement once more. she glances at the digital board, confirming her gate number before heading in that direction.

sitting down on the plane, azzi lets out a breath of relief; relieved she made it on time, without any troubles, other than waking up later than expected, of course.

a few moments later, the plane lifts off the ground, azzi leaning back in her spot, a satisfied smile playing at her lips. just as she’s about to let sleep overpower her, a buzz from her phone stirs her awake.

p: wanna facetime later?

a: maybe, i might be busy then

azzi chuckles at her response, knowing later, she’ll be right by the blonde’s side, embracing her warmth.

p: oh ok. lemme know when ur free

setting her phone back down, azzi tilts her head back against the seat, trying her best to relax. as the plane ascends, azzi gazes out the window, her heart racing eagerness to see paige. she thinks about how paige has no idea she’s about to be surprised for her birthday; the thought makes her lips rise, as she can hardly wait to see her favorite person.

the plane lands, stirring azzi into consciousness. her eyes crinkle open, adjusting to the bright light peaking through the aircraft window. she hurries to secure her luggage, weaving through the crowd of the plane. she makes her way off the plane, searching for paige’s mom who has agreed to pick her up. amy’s been in connecticut to celebrate paige’s birthday, similar to azzi.

quickly spotting amy, relief washes throughout her features. she approaches, heart pounding in her chest.

“hi sweetheart!” amy greets, beaming, “how was your flight?”

azzi is grateful for her smile, already feeling at ease. “it was good, thanks,” she replies.

“glad to hear it,” amy says. a beat goes by of silence between the two, “wanna get going?”

“yeah!” when azzi realizes how eager she is, she clears her throat and steadies her voice, “yeah, that sounds good.”

amy only laughs, practically feeling azzi’s anticipation bouncing off her frame. as they walk through the airport and into amy’s car, azzi attempts to steady the pace of her heart, getting her breathing under control. she’s full of energy yet nerves still linger in her chest, feeling a sense of anxiety at seeing paige again. it’s been several months, almost a year since they last saw each other in person— azzi is slightly worried things might be different between them.

“are you excited to see her?” amy asks, glancing at the brunette in the passenger’s seat for a swift moment.

“i’m so excited. i’ve missed her a lot,” azzi replies.

amy smirks to herself, remembering back to paige’s confession about loving azzi. “she’s missed you too.”

azzi smiles, pleased with amy’s response. although she knows paige has missed her, it’s still nice to hear it from someone else.

as they drive in the direction of uconn, the unfamiliar landscape of connecticut flashes by— azzi takes in the scenery, admiring each tree and building, knowing she’ll be here only next year. she still fails to shake the flutter of nerves, questioning if they’re bond will still be in tact after all this time of being apart.

“she’s going to be so surprised,” amy speaks up, breaking the moment of silence.

“i hope so,” azzi giggles. “i’m excited to tell her about my commitment.”

amy gasps, shocked at azzi’s words. “wait, you’re committing to uconn?”

“yeah,” azzi replies, biting her lip.

“oh my gosh, she’s gonna be so happy,” amy says, her eyes lighting up with joy.

azzi nods, “i think so too. i’ve been thinking about it for a while, ever since geno made his offer. i finally decided last month.”

“that’s great, azzi,” amy grins, knowing her daughter will be over the moon when she finds out.

the conversation dies out, azzi’s focus lingering out the car window. she fidgets with her fingers, an anxious habit of hers, as she is still nervous about reuniting with her best friend.

amy pulls up to conn; azzi takes in the size of the campus, admiring each area, knowing she’ll be here soon, playing alongside paige like she’s wanted to do so badly since USA basketball.

“alright, how do you wanna go about this? do you want me to text her, asking to meet out here?” amy asks the younger girl.

azzi weighs her options, thinking through each way to surprise her friend. “yeah, i think that’s best.”

amy reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. her fingers work away on the keyboard, before putting her phone down, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“she’s on her way.”

a bubble of familiar nerves erupt, once again, in azzi’s stomach. she bites the inside of her cheek, anxiously waiting for paige’s arrival.

azzi gets out of the car, running off to hide right next to the doors, but out of the view of paige, once she makes her way down.

the creak of the door startles the brunette, her eyes widening. her gaze immediately lands on the back of paige’s frame. “what is it, mom?” her voice is gentle with a hint of curiosity.

azzi steps out, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pockets, walking out casually in the direction of the blonde.

“happy birthday,” azzi says, successfully keeping her voices steady and calm.

paige whips around, instantly recognizing that voice. her lips gap, eyes locked on azzi’s brown ones.

paige rushes over to azzi in record time, throwing her arms around her waist, pulling her body flush against her own.

“how the fuck are you here?” paige mumbles into azzi’s curls, still in a daze.

“i flew in today, your mom picked me up from the airport,” azzi replies, beaming.

paige leans back, lifting azzi slightly off the ground, burying her face further in azzi’s neck. the brunette lets out a little squeal, her feet dangling.

“wanna go to my room?” paige says, her voice low. she pulls away, hands still brushing azzi’s hips when she meets her eyes.

“sure,” azzi answers, running off to quickly grab her duffel from the car.

paige waits for her, still in disbelief that azzi is here, in connecticut, for her birthday.

when azzi reaches paige on her way back, the older girl doesn’t hesitate to take azzi’s free hand in her own, intertwining their fingers. azzi swears her heart skips a beat at the small act of affection.

paige leads the way in front of azzi, tugging her by the hand through the hallways, turning corners until they reach paige’s dorm door. with a brisk motion, the door unlocks, revealing her very fitting dorm room.

azzi takes in the vivid decorations— basketball posters, a few books— before her line of sight lands onto their interlocked hands. paige glances back at azzi, her eyes lightening.

“i’m so glad your here,” paige whispers, gaze dropping across her features.

“me too, p,” she leans slightly into paige, welcoming her emitting warmth.

paige pulls the younger girl down onto her bed, into a sitting position, dropping right next to her. their thighs brush, enough for butterflies to spread throughout her chest.

azzi squeezes paige’s hand, biting the inside of her cheek. “i have to tell you something,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “oh— i have your birthday present, first.”

azzi painfully let’s go of paige’s grip, immediately missing her touch. she tries to tell herself it’s what all friends do— constantly touch one another, miss the warmth of each other’s hands. but this feels different, yet she doesn’t have to courage to confront any sort of feelings right now.

azzi rummages through her duffel, fingers brushing against clothes and beauty products in search of a small box nestled at the bottom.

“you didn’t have to get me anything,” paige says, although she buzzes with curiosity.

“nonsense,” azzi grins, finally gripping the box in her hand. she presents it to paige, opening it slowly, revealing the delicate, silver cross necklace. “i know you don’t wear jewelry that often but— it’s cute, right? i had to save up for like, two months for this. if you don’t like it though, i have the receipt, i can return it—“

azzi is cut off by paige yanking her down, pulling her back into another fierce hug; one full of meaning, of admiration, of unspoken love.

“it’s beautiful, az,” paige murmurs, hands coming up to cradle her head, “i love it.” i love you, is what she’s meaning to say, but lets the words die out on her tongue.

paige leans back, removing her hands from the back of azzi’s head, only for them to gently brush curls behind her ears, “what were you gonna tell me?” her eyebrows pinch down, curious for her response.

“oh, um,” azzi bites her lip, anxious for paige’s reaction. “i’m committing to uconn,” the words come out barely audible.

paige freezes, not quite believing the words that just came out of her mouth. “are you joking?” she says, jaw twitching. “cause if you’re joking azzi, i’m gonna be so pissed—“

azzi brings her hand to cover paige’s mouth, not wanting to hear another word. “i’m not joking, p, i swear.”

paige feels her heart pounding too hard in her chest, a rush of emotions overwhelming her. she attacks azzi with a powerful, deep hug— third time in short time azzi’s been here. with this motion, paige leans back, gently pushing azzi onto a laying position on her bed, their bodies flush against each other’s. azzi laughs softly, her surprise melting into comfort as paige tucks her head into the crook of azzi’s neck. “oh my god, oh my god…” she repeats over and over, still in disbelief.

“i’m taking this as a sign you’re pleased?”

paige, still pressed against azzi’s neck, answers, “hell yeah i’m pleased!” azzi giggles again, her hand moving up to paige’s back as she continues to lay, basically onto of her. “do you know what this means? we’ll see each other everyday, az. no more fucking facetimes.”

a bubble of excitement fills azzi’s stomach, already so incredibly ready to begin at this school. “i genuinely can’t wait.”

“i can’t…” paige’s words trail off. she inhales azzi’s scent, the smell of a fresh shampoo filling her nostrils. she props herself onto one elbow, enough so their faces are a few inches away. without a thought in her mind, the blonde leans down, peppering small kisses along azzi’s neck, up to her jaw.

a quiet gasp escapes azzi’s lips, her mouth parting with surprise, mixed with an undeniable pleasure. her eyes flutter shut as she tilts her head to the side, giving paige better access.

continuing to plant gentle kisses on azzi’s face, paige brings her other hand up to rest on the brunette’s stomach. she feels her stomach tense under her touch. “god azzi, i fucking lov…” her words fail to fully leave her lips, once again. she can’t quite seem to work up the courage to reveal her feelings towards the girl under her, but can’t seem to hide them, either.

paige eventually removes her lips off azzi’s flush skin— azzi immediately notices her glistening baby blue eyes.

azzi leans up into a sitting position, pulling paige up with her. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

paige sniffles, trying her best not to let the tears fall. “i’m sorry… i’m just,” she bites her lip, closing her eyes for a moment, attempting to get her emotions under control. “i’m so happy.”

“aw, stop, you’re going to make me cry,” azzi smiles, yet it’s full of warmth and understanding. azzi places her hand on paige’s cheek, wiping away a singular tear. leaning in, azzi kisses her damp cheek softly, her lips lingering for a moment. “cmon, you can introduce me to your teammates.”

yanking paige up from her spot on the bed, azzi connects their hands, not wanting to break contact. paige hiccups, finally calming down to the point she’s no longer crying. with their hands interlocked, paige leads azzi out the dorm door to make their way over to nika, a close friend and teammate of hers, room.

the blonde knocks on the door, still clutching azzi’s hand for dear life. when the door opens, revealing nika along with the entire uconn basketball team, loud cheers erupt mixed with birthday wishes.

“happy birthday paige!” the team shouts in unison, wide grins on their expressions. paige’s lips tip up, a hint of gratitude in her eyes.

being the kind of person paige is, she thanks each player individually, laying out her appreciation.

as nika approaches the pair, her gaze flicks to the brunette, who’s basically attached at paige’s hip— she’s not used to being surrounded by so many people she doesn’t know. “who’s this?” nika questions, making sure to keep her tone light and friendly.

“azzi, my best friend,” paige replies, a smile visual on her face. she tugs azzi forward, so they’re side to side, as her hand lands on the small of her back.

“oh, i see,” nika smirks, her voice knowing. “she mentions you a lot.”

paige’s eyes widen, lips curling up, clearly not pleased with her friend’s snarky comment. azzi only chuckles though, not seeing any harm in her words.

“she’s committing to uconn,” paige announces, trying her best to ignore what nika previously said.

the team’s chatter quiets as they listen in, curiosity piqued. nika raises an eyebrow, “oh really? you any good?”

paige playfully nudges her friend, pushing nika back a step. nika laughs, finding paige’s annoyance amusing. “she’s fucking great, nik. we’ll be lucky to have her here, that’s for damn sure.”

nika’s smirk grows, instantly recognizing the pair’s type of friendship. azzi’s cheeks warm, not expecting the sudden attention.

“cmon az,” the older girl tugs at azzi’s arm, dragging her over to the counter which contains an assortment of alcoholic beverages.

paige pours herself a shot, immediately throwing it back, causing her throat to burn. she blinks a couple times, before glancing over at the brunette by her side. “do you want one?”

azzi shallows, yet she already knows her answer. “hell yeah,” she grins.

azzi’s been drunk a handful of times by this point, but never with paige, considering they rarely see each other in person. although she loves the rush it gives her, she absolutely hates the hangover that comes with it.

paige hands the bottle over to azzi, who gratefully accepts it, pouring herself a shot of her own. azzi downs her shot, the warmth spreading through her. her gaze drifts to the blonde, who’s grinning with a spark of mischief in her eyes.

azzi smirks, “another?”

many drinks and collective, loud laughs later, paige and azzi found themselves seated on the couch, with azzi’s legs laid out on top of the older girl’s lap. the room echoed with background music and conversations, but all paige could focus on was the way azzi’s playful energy lit up the space around them.

paige subtly inches her hand up, over top of azzi’s leg, gently rubbing her calf, fingers tickling her skin.

“stop, that tickles,” azzi giggles, yet she makes no movements.

“you like it,” paige says like it’s a fact.

azzi shallows, feeling the tension surrounding them grow more intense. azzi’s cheeks redden once paige dares to move her hand up higher, to her thigh.

azzi adjusts her spot on the couch, shifting so her and paige are side by side, touching at the hip. the brunette, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her, leans her head on paige’s shoulder.

azzi, in the drunken state she’s in, starts laughing at nothing as she nuzzles her face deeper in paige’s neck.

“what’s funny?” paige smiles.

“i don’t know,” azzi laughs once more.

without any notice, azzi’s lips connect with paige’s soft skin, placing gentle kisses up her neck and behind her ear. when paige lets out a moan so quiet only azzi can hear, she decides to test the waters, sucking and teasing.

“azzi…” paige mumbles, letting her pleasure be known. “you’re drunk.”

“and? so are you,” azzi mutters against her skin, continuing her movements.

“so we probably shouldn’t be doing this,” paige says, although her head tilting, giving azzi more access, says otherwise. “we’re friends…”

azzi, with her head still fuzzy, smirks, kissing her neck deeper. “friends do this.”

paige’s eyes roll back, her hand finding its way to azzi’s waist, hoisting her closer. “fuck it.”

not caring about all of her teammates in the room, paige connects their lips in a searing, all-consuming kiss— azzi crawls onto her lap, straddling her waist. the brunette deepens the kiss, adding her tongue in the mix. paige groans into her mouth; butterflies swirl in azzi’s stomach.

azzi’s hands find paige’s hair, fingers curling in her blonde locks, lightly tugging her head back. paige grips azzi’s ass, squeezing softly.

“fuck, paige,” azzi breaks the kiss, leaning her head back long enough for paige to move her attention to azzi’s neck, letting her lips work away at the skin.

“can you guys not dry hump one another on my couch?” nika voice booms, making paige and azzi tear their faces from each others. azzi glances down at paige under her frame, eventually moving off her lap as awkward tensions seeps in.

“let’s go to my room, az,” paige says, throwing a glare at the croatian.

she holds her hands out for azzi, who gratefully takes them. the pair says their goodbyes, paige thanks everyone for the birthday wishes, before making their way out the door.

the two girls walk in complete silence, letting the unsaid words hang in the air. as they reach paige’s dorm, the tension crackles softly around them. they move about, getting ready for bed, not bothering to make conversation. the remnants of laughter and the buzz of the small get-together lingers in the atmosphere. paige grabs her pajamas and changes quickly, glancing over at the younger girl, who is still a little flushed from their earlier kiss.

once they’re both in comfortable clothes, they crawl into bed, the softness of the sheets enveloping them.

paige turns to azzi, her gaze steady. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

azzi smiles so hard with her dimples exposed, her cheeks begin to hurt. she reaches out, grabbing paige’s head in her hands, kissing her forehead— twice, for good measure. “happy birthday, baby,” she whispers, still slightly feeling the effects of the alcohol.

paige freezes at azzi’s word choice, her heart quickening as her cheeks warm. she inhales a long breath before settling comfortably in bed, right alongside the younger girl, a shy smile on her face.

in the quiet, they share a moment of pure peace in each other’s presence, the gravity of the night lingering as they lay side by side, the outside world fading away.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader (past)

Summary: After last years incident you don't know if you can move on, but Wanda shows you how real love feels.

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Nat cheats

AU: Pietro is alive :D

Author's note: Merry Christmas! I wasn't planning on making another fic for Christmas, but I was listening to Christmas music while wrapping and well here you go~

Snow was gently falling in New York making everything feel more magical. All the decor was up, the tree fully lit at the Rockefeller center and people were bustling more than usual to get their Christmas shopping done. 

You were trying to pick a gift out for your secret Santa, Wanda. Tony did this every year for his holiday party. You really weren't in the mood for it this year, but you were trying…after last Christmas things didn't feel as magical. 

Last Year

“Come on Tasha! We're gonna be late if you take any longer on your make-up!” You playfully called out. She smirked at you through the mirror. 

“Don't worry Detka, we'll make it.” Her sultry voice wrapped around you. You looked her over as she stood; a tight short black dress, tights, heels to match. Her hair was pulled into a fancy braid she'd mentioned the name of earlier, but you couldn't remember it. 

The party was in full swing by the time you two arrived. You were in fact upset about it because Natasha knows how you hate to be late because of your anxiety. As soon as you set your gift on the table for secret Santa Natasha was gone in the crowd. Interacting with the boys and Maria. You frowned, but went to grab some finger foods and a drink while you found the twins and Vision. The three of them are talking about experiencing Christmas for the first time. 

You sat yourself next to Wanda with the boys across the table on another couch. The four of you talking for a bit before you realized Natasha hadn't come to find you. 

A pout covered your mouth as you got up, “I'll be back guys I'm gonna go check on Tasha.” You excused yourself making your way through the crowd of people, looking everywhere until in the corner of your eye, her dress caught your eye. Your head turning and the glass in your hand falling with a sharp crash to the tiled floor. 

Natasha was kissing Maria. 

You were noticed by many including Natasha who looked like she had regret on her face. Not for the kiss itself, but because she was caught. 

You walked out of that party and didn't look back. 

Present Day

You got yourself ready, looking over yourself in the mirror and then at the clock. You'd be a little early which was perfect. You grabbed your gift for Wanda. It was perfect for her. It was a few different things. 

Tony never had limits on how much to spend. If you got him as your secret Santa you could expect a car or a new place to live.

You got there, hugging Tony with a smile. “I'm surprised you decided to actually come. You even have your gift!” Tony said surprised. You gave him a roll of your eyes. 

“Yeah I wasn't sure if I'd come at first after last year I felt sick thinking about it and about seeing her. I gave her my heart Tony…she gave it away. I decided if I did come this year then…I'd give it to someone special…” you explained to him. Tony was like your annoying older brother. You told him a lot of your problems and he was happy to listen. 

He gave you another hug, a nice tight one where you could smell his cologne clearly, making your nose scrunch up a bit.

“Go get her.” He whispered before letting go. 

It was hours into the party. You'd spent the whole time with the twins. Vision had gone off to talk with Tony at some point and now it was time for secret Santa. You got up, grabbing your gift to Wanda and you were surprised to see she had you as well.

The two of you laughed, deciding to go find her old room in the tower so you two could have a quiet moment to open each other's gifts. 

You both sat across from each other, she was cross legged in her usual black skirt and thigh highs, a low cut tank top and a dark gray cardigan fell off one shoulder that she kept fixing. Rings adorned all her fingers, some having multiple. You smiled as you gave her your gift. 

“Open yours first Wands.” You insisted, making her giggle which had your stomach doing flips. Biting the inside of your cheek to try to hide the effect the witch had on you. 

She opened up the bag that contained a few wrapped gifts. 

“You didn't have to get me so much.” She said with her honeyed accent. 

“I couldn't decide…they all felt like they were perfect for you.” You saw the barely There blush that covered her cheeks as she refused to look up from unwrapping. 

You'd gotten her a new mug that said village witch with a little graphic of a witches hut, the smoke coming out of it a ghost. The next gift was a variety pack of different teas from around the world. The last gift you'd gotten her was a new set of tarot cards. 

“Oh y/n! These are amazing and I love them! I can't wait to try the teas and you're getting the first reading with this tarot deck.” She said, leaning forward to hug you tight. “Now it's your turn!” She squealed excitedly. 

You smiled, taking the gift from her, opening it up, your jaw dropped. You just stared for a minute, speechless before looking up at her. 

“You…you made me a burr basket?” you asked dumbfounded. 

You'd asked Natasha for boo baskets and burr baskets and she never got them or made them and it hurt every time. 

“Yeah you kept talking about them so I wanted to make you one. I hope I did it right. I watched a bunch of tiktoks on making them and how others had them.” She rambled out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, there was a blanket, slippers, flannel pj's pants, a face mask, eye mask, a little holiday squishmallow, lip balm, your favorite perfume, and some seasonal chocolate. 

“W-Wands…I…i don't have words this is…I…” you physically couldn't form words. You looked up at her and realized the only thing you could do to say thank you was kiss her. 

You moved the gifts out of the way, crawling forward and letting your lips brush against hers, when she didn't pull away you pushed into her, letting your lips pressed together. Your hand cupped her cheek as her lips started to move against yours. 

When you both needed air you pulled back just a little, your foreheads touching. 

“I wasn't expecting that as a thank you, but I won't lie…I've been wanting you to kiss me like that since I came to America…” she confessed. How had you not noticed what was right in front of you this whole time?

“Wands…would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” You ask softly.

“I thought you'd never ask.” She practically growled before kissing you again. 

This wouldn't be like with Natasha. You knew this was different. You could feel it. 

She was your someone special.

[twoflowers]

Sentimentality - Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: The newest addition to the Straw Hat crew grapples with their easy affection, and especially with the attention from their doting cook.

Tags: SFW, character study, slight slash, scientist reader, no use of Y/N, female reader. First impressions, nakamaship.

Word count: 1397

Special thanks to @mere-mortifer for the encouragement to post my Sanji fics. I love your Sanji very much.

This one isn't very slash-y and honestly feels a bit incomplete to me, but I'm obsessed with this man in a psychological way and need to post at least something, even if it captures only an ounce of my insanity about him and the crew.

Also: thinking about making this into more of a series (as the reader is kind of based on an OC of mine...!). Please, please, Sanji fans: give me any and every prompt you can imagine.

__

Sentimentality

Every morning you settle into the golden-glowing comfort of the breakfast table: the press of arms against arms, the jostling of bodies to the time of the waves, the hard wooden bench softened despite it all. 

The captain is not at all what you expected. He’s a kid, and a downright grabby one at that. You have to slap his rubbery hands away from your plate at every meal, and if you don’t catch him, Nami always does.

You sit next to Chopper, whose tiny, furry body is so very warm. He likes to plan the day over breakfast, still thrilled to have another scientist on board. You watch him nibble at pancakes with his blocky teeth (it really is hard not to coo over him, but he has his dignity to uphold, so you restrain yourself!) and sip his milk and grin, white mustache and all. Robin leans over with a napkin to clean Chopper’s mouth, and he fusses, but concedes. Some of his drawings hang on the fridge, secured by magnets. You think of siblings with a pang in your chest every time you see them.

Roronoa Zoro is inexplicably softer than you imagined. There’s something about the curve of his cheeks, the careless sprawling stance, the way his nose whistles lightly while he sleeps. He barks laughter at Luffy, leans on his swords like they’re children, even smells better than Nami likes to say.

Robin terrified you at first, but you quickly became a sucker for her mellow gaze and old book smell. Besides, educated women are always of interest to you. Nami and Robin are incredible, always encouraging: proof that somehow, someway, a woman who has been chased out of her old life and hunted by the darkest parts of herself can uncurl and be seen. 

The first few sleepless nights aboard the Going Merry, you stared at the ceiling, heart pounding at the vulnerability of sharing a room. You are a scientist. You’ve long denounced the need for sentimentality, though Luffy manages to wring a few spare drops out of you every day. How could you have accounted for the love that permeates every board of this ship? How have you gone your entire life wondering if belonging like this could exist, only to find it among a notorious pirate crew- a crew who, really, is more bumbling than you could have imagined? How can Luffy stroll into any place- town, restaurant, heart- and break down every wall without a second thought?

And the cook… 

You have to look away from him sometimes. The first time he made a meal for you, he sank to a kneel to present it, like he was a servant and you were a queen who could take his head at any moment, and have it willingly. You took the plate with shaking hands and nodded a thank you. When he stood back up, there was a bit of dust on the knee of his fine-pressed pants. You kept your eyes on it as he fluttered around, crooning to the women and brusquely serving the men. What were you supposed to make of that?

Sanji squeezes your heart like it’s an old rag. The way he remembers your favored flavor profiles makes your toes curl. You’re not even sure you’ve managed to smile at him yet, even a month after joining the crew, because he throws you so off-balance you’re left feeling like you’ve been thrust into a hurricane without any solid structure to grip onto.

His… whatever it is- admiration, loyalty, devotion, all of the above and more- has only gotten stronger in the past month. He floats into the lab as if on a cloud to tell you he made you a snack and left it outside, mindful of the potential for contamination. He tells you how lovely your eyes look that day, and every day- that you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and that he lives to serve you.

“A snack for you is outside, miss,” he says today, like he’s itching to bow. “I prepared carrot cake and spiced milk for you, with turmeric, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Let me know if anything is not to your liking.”

You side-eye him from your bench, pipette paused in midair. Miss, miss, miss. Every time he says it you’re left breathless. As usual, you nod and mutter a thank you, still focusing on your work, lest you do something stupid like offering him your hand to kiss or backing him into a wall to taste his neck.

He usually leaves right away, but you don’t hear the door close today. When you look back at Sanji, he’s beaming, eyes practically heart-shaped. 

“May I make anything else for you?”

“No. That will suffice.” Something in your chest is shouting at you for being so formal with him. 

“I like carrot cake,” you add.

Sanji’s smile turns tremulous and melty. A hand moves to cover his heart. “I will keep that in mind. And I don’t wish to disturb you- your work is very important- but it will be best eaten soon, while it’s still warm.”

You surprise yourself by setting down your pipette and moving to the sink to wash your hands. Sanji is still lingering at the door as you scrub between your fingers and under your nails, similar to the way he washes his after handling raw meat. You take extra time drying off, the feeling of him behind you prickling at your neck. 

In the hallway, the cake and milk are placed carefully on a table. The mug is to the top right of the plate, handle tilted at the perfect angle for you to grab. A dainty dessert fork leans against the plate, next to two sprigs of mint forming a heart.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” you say. “It looks perfect.”

“I can make you as many as you’d like, all with love. Please. It’s my pleasure.”

You lift the fork, and Sanji leans forward with the eagerness of a child witnessing a magic trick. When you take a bite of the cake, his visible eye widens.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, Sanji.”

Sanji lets out a shaky breath. “Of course, miss. I can make you anything your heart desires, provided I have the ingredients. And if I don’t, I will make sure to procure them as soon as we make landfall. And if you want them before that, I'll swim to shore.” 

Why does the man have such puppy-dog eyes? You know with certainty that he would do anything you asked of him, or else die trying, and you’ve hardly spoken to him. There’s a string of tension in his body when he’s around you, loosened slightly now that you’ve complimented his food. Is he just that eager to please?

You have met many men happy to go through the motions of wooing you for one reason alone, but something about Sanji tells you that he would be at your beck and call for the rest of your life, even if you never said “thank you” again.

You nod, moving to try the spiced milk, which is, of course, perfect. 

“I noticed that you like cinnamon, so I tweaked the recipe to add more.” He sounds hopeful. “You don’t find the turmeric overpowering?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, lowering the drink. “It’s good. You’re very… perceptive.”

“Of course! I pay special attention to my lovely ladies.”

You’re included in this group, somehow. Why does that make you want to push and prod at him, despite the measured indifference you’ve culminated?

“Sanji,” you say, and he snaps to attention.

“Yes?”

“Could I have some marmalade with this?”

This is the first time you’ve requested anything from him. A broad smile spreads across his face. 

“Right away.” He falls into a bow before walking down the hallway. When he’s out of view, you hear him begin to run, legs pounding the wooden floor strong enough to rattle the pictures frames on the walls. 

You pluck a sprig of mint from the cake, grinding it between your teeth. It’s refreshing, new, with a bit of a kick. You smile to yourself, imagining Sanji in the kitchen, carefully scooping marmalade into a dainty dish, heart thrumming with the thrill of receiving an order from his newest object of affection.

[mybelovedwoo]

midnight ramen and longing hearts

san x f!reader

fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, suggestive / wc: 2.9k

note: they went on their first official date. it gets a little suggestive at the end, oopsie!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

A few days had passed since San and Y/n had confessed their feelings to each other. Tonight, they were going on their first official date, a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing between them. They decided to keep it simple and meaningful by taking a walk along the Han River, a place that had always held a special significance for them.

The night was cool and clear, the city lights reflecting off the calm waters of the river. As they strolled along the riverside path, the familiar sound of water lapping against the shore and the soft murmur of other couples created a peaceful backdrop for their evening.

San walked beside Y/n, hands tucked into his pockets as he stole glances at her. She looked beautiful under the soft glow of the streetlights, her smile lighting up the night. They chatted easily, discussing Y/n's latest book and her friends, topics that made her eyes light up with excitement.

"So, how's that new book you're reading?" San asked, genuinely interested.

Y/n's face lit up with enthusiasm. "It's amazing! I'm in the middle of a really intense chapter right now. The protagonist is finally starting to realize her true strength, and the plot twists are incredible."

San smiled, loving how passionate she was about her reading. "Sounds like a page-turner. I might have to borrow it from you when you're done."

Y/n beamed at his words, feeling encouraged. "I'd love that. We could discuss it together."

As they walked, Y/n continued talking, her words flowing easily as she shared stories about her friends and their latest adventures. "So, Chaewon and I went to this new café last week. It was so cute, and their pastries were to die for. We ended up spending hours there, just chatting and catching up."

San listened attentively, enjoying the sound of her voice. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, to feel the connection they had always shared, but every time he tried, his nerves got the better of him. He'd awkwardly lift his hand, then quickly drop it back to his side, hoping she wouldn't notice.

Y/n, caught up in her stories, didn't seem to notice his struggles. She was talking a lot, her words flowing easily as she tried to mask her own nervousness. "And you remember Jiwoong, right? He finally got that promotion he's been working so hard for. We're all so proud of him."

San smiled, nodding. "That's great to hear. Jiwoong really deserves it."

As they continued walking, San felt his heart racing. He wanted so badly to hold her hand, to show her how much he cared, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Each failed attempt made him feel more awkward, but he tried to focus on their conversation, hoping to find the right moment.

"And then there's Sua," Y/n continued. "She's planning this huge trip to Europe next summer. She's so excited about it, and I can't wait to hear all her stories when she gets back."

San felt a surge of warmth at how animated Y/n was when she talked about her friends and her life. He loved seeing her so happy and engaged. Slowly, he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers against hers. To his surprise, Y/n didn't pull away. Instead, she turned to look at him, her eyes soft and warm.

Without a word, Y/n intertwined her fingers with his, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. San felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over him. He squeezed her hand gently, and she squeezed back, a silent confirmation of their feelings.

They stood there for a moment, just holding hands and looking out at the river. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of warmth and affection.

"This is nice," Y/n whispered, leaning slightly against him.

"Yeah," San replied, his voice filled with emotion. "It really is."

As they continued their walk, hand in hand, the awkwardness melted away, replaced by a comfortable silence that spoke volumes. They didn't need words to express how they felt; the simple act of holding hands was enough.

-

They were nearing a quieter, more secluded part of the river path when a group of rowdy guys approached them, clearly intoxicated. Their loud voices and unsteady steps signaled trouble, and San immediately tensed up.

One of the guys, a tall and scruffy-looking man, swaggered closer to Y/n, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Hey there, beautiful," he slurred, leering at her. "Why don't you ditch this guy and come have some fun with us?"

Y/n's grip on San's hand tightened, and she moved closer to him, her face reflecting discomfort and unease. "No, thanks," she replied firmly, trying to keep her voice steady.

San's protective instincts kicked in. He stepped in front of Y/n, shielding her from the group. "Back off," he said, his voice low and menacing. "She said she's not interested."

The drunk guy's friends laughed, egging him on. "Oh, come on, man, we're just having a bit of fun," another one said, stepping closer.

San squared his shoulders, his eyes flashing with determination. "I said, back off. Leave her alone."

The tall guy sneered, clearly not taking the hint. "Or what?" he challenged, shoving San lightly. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Before San could respond, Y/n spoke up, her voice shaking but defiant. "Let's just go, San. They're not worth it."

San glanced back at her, his eyes softening for a moment. He nodded, then turned back to the group. "We're leaving. Stay out of our way."

As they tried to walk past the group, the tall guy grabbed Y/n's arm, pulling her back. "I don't think so," he said, his grip tight and unyielding.

That was the final straw for San. Without thinking, he swung his fist, landing a solid punch on the guy's jaw. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back, releasing Y/n. The other guys, momentarily stunned, hesitated, giving San just enough time to pull Y/n away and start running.

"Come on!" San urged, holding her hand tightly as they sprinted away from the group. The sounds of angry shouts faded behind them as they put more distance between themselves and the troublemakers.

They didn't stop running until they were safely back in a more populated area, the bright lights and presence of other people providing a sense of security. Panting and out of breath, they finally slowed to a walk.

San turned to Y/n, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

Y/n nodded, her breath coming in quick gasps. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?"

San nodded, though his jaw was still clenched in anger. "I'm fine. I just couldn't let them treat you like that."

His mind replayed the scene, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He was usually the one to find peaceful solutions, always calm and composed. But tonight, seeing Y/n in danger had triggered a primal instinct to protect her, no matter the cost.

Growing up, his father had always told him, "San, you have to protect your girl. Always." Those words had echoed in his mind as he swung his fist, and they still rang in his ears now. He had acted without thinking, driven purely by the need to keep Y/n safe.

San took a deep breath, his protective instincts still on high alert. "Let's head back to my apartment," he suggested, his voice steady. "It's safer there."

Y/n nodded, trusting him completely. "Okay, let's go."

They continued their walk, moving quickly towards San's apartment. The familiar route felt reassuring, and San's presence by her side made her feel secure. They reached his building and headed up to the apartment he shared with his two roommates, Seonghwa and Mingi. Y/n knew them both very well, having spent countless hours here with San.

San unlocked the door and ushered Y/n inside. The apartment was warmly lit, a comforting contrast to the chilly night outside. Seonghwa and Mingi were in the living room, playing a video game. As soon as San and Y/n stepped inside, Mingi looked up with a mischievous grin. "Well, well, if it isn't the new couple. About time you two made it official. I always knew you both had feelings for each other."

San rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips. "Not now, Mingi."

Y/n blushed, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Hi, guys," she greeted, trying to keep her voice steady.

Seonghwa, sensing that something was off, paused the game and stood up. "Hey, is everything okay?"

San nodded towards Y/n. "Y/n, why don't you go relax in my room for a bit? I'll be there in a minute."

Y/n hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Thanks, San." She gave a small smile to Seonghwa and Mingi before heading towards San's room.

Once she was out of earshot, San turned to Seonghwa, his expression serious. "We ran into some trouble by the river. A group of drunk guys were being rude to Y/n."

Seonghwa's eyes narrowed with concern. "What happened?"

San sighed, running a hand through his hair. "One of them grabbed her. I... I punched him. I didn't want to, but I had to protect her."

Mingi's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by genuine worry. "Are you both okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine now. I just didn't want Y/n to feel more uncomfortable by talking about it in front of her."

Seonghwa nodded, placing a reassuring hand on San's shoulder. "You did the right thing, San. Protecting her is what's important. If you need anything, just let us know."

"Thanks, guys," San said, appreciating their support. "I think she just needs some time to calm down."

San took a deep breath and headed to his room, where Y/n was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking a bit lost in thought. He sat down beside her, his presence immediately making her feel more at ease.

Y/n tried to lighten the mood with a playful grin. "Well, that was unexpected. I didn't know you had such a powerful punch, San. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

San chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yeah, I've had a bit of practice I guess. Just a black belt in Taekwondo not much."

San's smile widened, enjoying the light-hearted moment with Y/n. But behind his amusement, he couldn't shake off his concern. "Y/n, are you sure you're okay? I didn't mean to scare you back there."

Y/n's expression softened as she looked at him. "San, I know you. You're not the type to throw punches unless you have to. You were protecting me, and I appreciate that."

San nodded, grateful for her understanding. But he could see the concern in her eyes, and he knew exactly what was bothering her.

"I know," he admitted quietly. "If anyone recognizes me, it could cause trouble. My image as an idol is everything."

Y/n's brows furrowed with worry. "Do you think anyone saw you?"

San shook his head. "I don't know. I tried to keep my face hidden as much as possible. Hopefully, no one noticed."

Y/n squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Let's hope for the best. Maybe it was dark, and they didn't get a good look."

San smiled faintly, grateful for her optimism. "Yeah, maybe."

They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts. San couldn't shake off the nagging worry about his career, but he also felt a profound sense of relief knowing that Y/n was safe.

"I'm sorry," Y/n said softly, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position."

San shook his head, turning to look at her. "Hey, protecting you was worth it. I'll deal with whatever consequences come my way."

Y/n nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, San."

San leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'll always protect you, Y/n. No matter what."

Y/n smiled, leaning into his touch. "I know."

They stayed like that for a while longer, finding comfort in each other's presence. Despite the uncertainties ahead, they knew they could face them together, their bond strengthened by the challenges they had overcome that night.

Eventually, Y/n pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting his with newfound determination. "Let's not dwell on this tonight. We should focus on us."

San nodded, a sense of peace settling over him. "You're right. Tonight is about us."

He looked at Y/n, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you hungry? How about some ramen? It's nothing fancy, but it'll hit the spot."

Y/n grinned, her stomach growling in agreement. "Ramen sounds perfect right now."

San busied himself with preparing the instant ramen while Y/n sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen, fidgeting nervously.

As San boiled the water and stirred the noodles, Y/n bit her lip, unsure of how to break the awkward silence that had settled between them.

Once the ramen was ready, San handed a bowl to Y/n and took a seat beside her. They ate quietly at first, both acutely aware of the underlying meaning behind their late-night ramen choice.

After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Y/n finally spoke up, her voice hesitant. "San... about the ramen... I know what it implies."

San paused mid-bite, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh... um, yeah. I didn't mean for it to be... I just thought... we could have a late-night snack together."

Y/n's cheeks were tinged with pink as she glanced down at her bowl. "Right, of course. I understand."

San shifted uncomfortably, wanting to ease the tension. "I want you to know, Y/n, I'm not trying to rush anything. I've waited for you for so long. I can wait a little longer."

Y/n looked up, meeting his gaze. "I know, San. I appreciate that."

They finished their ramen in subdued silence, the atmosphere in the room heavy with unspoken emotions. Each bite seemed to carry with it a mix of longing and restraint, as if they were tiptoeing around the feelings that hung between them.

San set his bowl aside and glanced at Y/n, his voice soft but sincere. "Y/n, it's getting pretty late. Why don't you stay here tonight? We used to sleep together all the time when we were younger. It doesn't have to be awkward."

Y/n looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and relief. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

San smiled warmly, shaking his head. "You're not imposing. I'd actually feel better knowing you're here and safe. Plus, it's just like old times, right?"

Y/n's lips curved into a gentle smile as she nodded. "Yeah, just like old times."

San stood up and began to set up his room for the night. He found an extra pillow and blanket for Y/n, laying them out on his bed. "I'll take the floor. You can have the bed."

Y/n frowned and shook her head. "No way. We're both adults now, San. We can share the bed. It's big enough for both of us."

San hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, trying to keep his composure. "Okay, if you're comfortable with that."

They both climbed into the bed, lying on their backs and staring at the ceiling. The initial awkwardness began to fade as they settled into the familiarity of their shared space.

San turned his head slightly to look at Y/n. "Remember when we used to have sleepovers and tell each other ghost stories until we fell asleep?"

Y/n chuckled softly, his eyes warm with nostalgia. "Yeah, and you always insisted on keeping the nightlight on afterwards."

San laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Well, I was scared! Your ghost stories were way too realistic."

Y/n chuckled softly, the tension easing between them. "I guess I did have a knack for storytelling."

As they lay side by side in the dim light of San's room, Y/n shifted slightly, turning to face away from him. "Hey, San, do you mind... um, cuddling me?"

San's heart skipped a beat at her request, but he tried to remain calm. "Sure, Y/n. No problem."

He moved closer to her, gently wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/n sighed softly, feeling a sense of warmth and security in his embrace.

For a while, they lay in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft rhythm of their breathing. The tension that had hovered between them earlier had dissolved, replaced by a quiet intimacy that felt both familiar and new.

After a couple of minutes, Y/n thought San might have fallen asleep behind her. She was starting to drift off herself when she felt a slight pressure against her back. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what it was—San's arousal pressing against her.

Her heart raced, unsure of what to do or say. She didn't want to embarrass San, but the heat of his body against hers stirred something deep within her.

Y/n took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "San... are you awake?"

San hesitated for a moment before answering, his voice low and hesitant. "Yeah, I'm awake."

Y/n bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. "I... I felt something."

San's arms tightened slightly around her, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Y/n felt a pang of sympathy for San as she sensed his embarrassment. She gently placed her hand on his cheek, turning his face towards hers. "San, it's okay. I understand."

San forced a small smile, though his eyes still held a hint of shame. "I just... I told you I could wait, but..."

Y/n brushed her thumb lightly across his cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring. "San, it's natural. We both have feelings for each other. It's okay."

San's shoulders relaxed slightly at her words, his gaze meeting hers with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/n." 

They settled back into the pillows, finding a comfortable position in each other's arms. The tension that had momentarily clouded their evening melted away as they lay together in the quiet of San's room.

San brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, San," Y/n murmured softly, her eyes drifting closed.

They both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's warmth.

-

taglist: @dinossaurz @taz-97 @soso59love-blog

[stellar-solar-flare]

What Makes A Home

ex-soldier!Ari Levinson x neighbor!Reader | 2,385 words.

Themes: friends to lovers, idiots in love, competency kink if you squint, neighbors, cozy community.

Reader is female, no Y/N, no description of appearance. Nicknames 'dear' and 'honeybun' are used by Ari for Reader.

My blog is for people 18+ only, minors DNI.

Story Content Warnings: implied smut, Ari being a soldier mentioned, Ari having guilt over his past, some very minor hurt/comfort (the love is requited, they're both just idiots).

Notes: This is a made-to-order fic for the amazing @bigtreefest - I hope it brings you joy and fulfilled your prompt! Full disclosure; I wasn't able to get my hands on the movie, so I had to piece Ari's character together from his scenes on YouTube. My utmost gratitude to @steviebbboi for character consult and helping me be confident about the decisions I made in the planning stages of this fic (all mishaps mine, of course). It is also my first time writing Ari. I hope you enjoy, and all feedback is very welcome!

I do not own anything The Red Sea Diving Resort related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

The house that you inherited from your great-grandaunt — who apparently despised you less than her other relatives —is definitely what a realtor would describe as ‘having plenty of potential’. But it really does have good bones, so to speak, and with the current housing market, you definitely aren’t complaining.

And the neighborhood isn’t half-bad, either. The community is close-knit, if a little nosy, helpful to the point of overbearing.

And so, they didn’t miss it when a new moving truck arrived at the house next to yours. The gossip has gone wild — the names of different special services are thrown around in the whispers like candy, even though no one can reasonably know anything about his history. Especially if he has a history as some overseas covert operator, like Mary at the end of the street keeps claiming, he certainly will keep that information to himself.

You are yet to run to him, and so you’re operating on second-hand information about him — which is mostly focusing on the fact that he’s tall and bearded and looks like he could bench press a school bus.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you reason that a simple welcome visit isn’t going to end with your untimely demise. You pick a nice Saturday afternoon, check that his truck is on the driveway, and make your favorite snickerdoodle recipe. With a plate of still-warm cookies under aluminum foil, you go ring his doorbell, not entirely sure why your heart is beating so hard. It’s just a decent thing to do.

It takes a few moments for him to open the door, and when he does, you are proud that your poker face holds.

“Hi,” you say to the giant at the door. “You must be Ari. I live in the house next to yours, and I thought I’d come to welcome you to the neighborhood; they did it to me too, when I moved in a few months ago. I brought snickerdoodles.”

You extend the plate to him, and he takes it. He leans one shoulder on the doorframe, and you do not swallow when you see the muscles of his arms move. His hair reaches behind his ears, and he has a nicely trimmed beard. Even in a simple — tight — white shirt and jeans, he does look like a soldier. Not violent but like there is an alertness to him, despite the amusement in his eyes.

“Hi,” he says. “Yes. I’m Ari. And you are?”

You give him your name, chuckling at the fact that you left it out in the first place.

“Nice to meet you. And thank you for the baked goods. Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee?”

He moves aside, gesturing for you to step over the threshold.

And you do.

There were a lot of things you had learned about Ari over the six months since your first meeting, that cup of coffee that somehow hadn’t felt awkward at all. He had a talent for filling moments like that with idle chatter that didn’t feel like it was just there to cover something.

It was just so Ari, how his charm was always on display and yet so inseparably a part of his very being that it didn’t feel like an act. It was just who he was. Of course, he could be a playboy — at least when it came to the charming part, since as far as you knew, there hadn’t been anyone visiting his house besides you.

You were more than certain that a fair number of ladies in the neighborhood harbored a crush. And why wouldn’t they, when Ari was the first to volunteer to any project, cracking easy jokes while he worked and being all charismatic smiles and wide shoulders ready to tackle anything.

It was that restless energy that had drawn him to your house, too. Just like you had turned up to his door that one Saturday, the next week he had turned up at yours, dressed in a flannel and jeans and carrying what looked like a heavy, well-equipped toolbox, pristinely new.

“Those gutters are going to fall off the clips soon. I could attach them better if that’s alright with you?”

Stunned, you had nodded. Sure, there was an endless list of things to attend to, and the gutters had been on your mind but then winter had come and you’d been so focused on other things. You had no idea how he noticed, and when you’d asked, he shrugged it off, mentioning something about how he had to learn how to build and maintain things out there, so you’d left the topic at that.

It was the first thing he fixed at your house, but not the last. He gravitated here, looking to do something of meaning, and he refused to hear your suggestions about paying him for the work he was doing — despite the fact that every project he poured himself into was done with the meticulousness rivaling not only someone not in the profession but with a passion to it.

Like the patio you were now sitting on your knees on, holding the plank in place for him so he could screw it onto the beam underneath from the opposite side. You’d made the mistake of mentioning over a shared dinner that you had contacted a contractor to see how much it would be to replace the deck, and he had turned up the next morning with all the necessary materials, in the exact shade of wood that you’d envisioned.

You weren’t certain that you wanted to know what strings he’d pulled to get all that so fast.

“Ari, seriously, you didn’t need to do this.”

“Nope,” he said. “But I wanted to.”

“At least let me pay for the wood,” you said. “You know, I’m a strong independent woman and I do have my own paycheck.”

“And I’m very proud of you, dear,” he said with perfect nonchalance, and you tried to ignore something twisting in your chest at that. “Just let me pick the next five movies for our movie nights and we’re even.”

You huffed, knowing that you’d be in for some underground art movies no one but Ari had ever even heard of but nodded regardless. It was literally the least you could do.

He finished screwing the plank down and reached for more screws from the box on the side — you’d begun earlier today by laying down all the planks to have an even platform to work with, and now it was just the matter of evening out the cracks in between and attaching them to the support structure. His arms moved, and his t-shirt lifted slightly as he bent to the side, revealing a slice of tanned, warm skin at his waist. You forced yourself not to stare.

The thing with Ari was that he flirted with anyone and everyone — except with you. He made the grannies laugh by asking them at the community nights if they were old enough to drink; he had the cashiers at the local grocery store sighing dreamily after him when he departed with one of his famous smiles. Everyone seemed to understand it was all fun and games, and yet you were certain you weren’t the only one here with hopes when it came to him.

But it wouldn’t be you — his complete and total lack of that kind of behavior around you was the clearest sign you could’ve asked for. He saw you in an entirely platonic light, and so you didn’t want to endanger what was a beautiful and genuinely enjoyable friendship with him by asking him if you could be more than that.

Even if sometimes the question, the why not me, burned your tongue and tried to sneak out of your throat. At least then you’d know the reason why he saw you so differently than others.

“Honeybun?” he said, yanking you out of your thoughts.

You swallowed, hoping that the question would go down too, and met his expectant gaze. He’d said something, and it had flown right past you, and now he was staring. God, you could drown in the blue of his eyes.

You were lucky to have him. He was a good friend, caring, attentive. He made you laugh at the worst of days; he was good at coming up with solutions, especially unconventional ones. You had no reason at all to feel wistful at all the nicknames, derived from different baked goods you’d made for him over the past months.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said, lowering your gaze. “Sorry. What did you need me to do?”

You heard a thump as he set the screwdriver down. He reached his hand, two fingers under your jaw tilting your face back up so that you’d look at him. There was that little wrinkle of worry between his brows and you felt a pang of guilt even as the warmth of his fingers was making your skin tingle.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he said. “We can take a break if you need a few. You’ve been somewhere far away for half the day.”

You quickly shook your head, knowing that you’d already ventured too far close to the line you didn’t want to end up crossing.

“Just a little tired, that’s all,” you said, hearing the flimsiness of the excuse even in your own ears.

He tilted his head and raised his brow; his hand was still there, under your jaw, lingering where it absolutely shouldn’t.

“I know it when you’re lying, honeybun,” he said, one corner of his mouth rising into a smirk. “Spill the beans. Do I need to kick someone’s ass? I’ll do it, you know.”

You swallowed so loud that it seemed to echo in your head like the creaking sound of thin ice.

“No, there’s no need for that. I was just wondering what’s so different about me?”

A flash of something in his eyes, gone so quickly that you could hardly tell it was there to begin with.

“Different how?” he said, strain in his voice, like he was going for some sort of normalcy and failing to grasp it.

Oh no. You had opened some floodgate and now things would be awkward from here to eternity. The only way to save this was to get it all out, and now that the water was flowing freely, there was no stopping the words from flowing out of your mouth:

“Well, it’s not a big deal, but sometimes I wonder why it is that you have this flirt going on with everyone except for me, and I mean, it’s absolutely and totally fine, you just see me thoroughly like a friend and that’s that but with what we have and all the nicknames and all that, sometimes I wish there could be more and I’m just wondering –“

And then you were wondering about nothing at all.

Ari was on you like a shot, his hands framing your face and pulling your lips on his even as he leaned towards you, and it didn’t matter that you didn’t understand. His kiss was a claim laid, one hand cupping the nape of your neck and the other wrapping around your waist even as his mouth devoured yours. He pulled back with his lips still on yours, bringing you to his lap and he was everything, everywhere, his scent and warmth and the softness of his shirt smelling like spring sun and laundry detergent, the taste of him on your tongue, the feeling of his hands mapping your body. It was just him all around you, and you fell into that just as easily as you’d once fallen into a comfortable, shared routine of friendship.

When he finally let your mouth go, you were both out of breath, and you were straddling his lap, suddenly very aware of how his feelings towards you weren’t entirely platonic at all. There was a hint of pink on his cheeks, and his hands came to cup your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin.

“You were too precious for that, honeybun,” he murmured, eyes fixed on yours. “I didn’t… When you waltzed into my house that day, it was the first time it felt like a home. You were the first time I felt at home. And putting on that face… it felt too cheap for you. And I didn’t… I couldn’t lose you. Not you. So I thought I’d be there for you. Take care of you, make you happy, and find my joy from that. When I was out there… I don’t know if I did enough, if I made a difference. I wasn’t sure I even deserved the kind of peace I felt with you.”

“Ari,” you breathed out, tears prickling in your eyes, unsure what you would’ve said even if there wasn’t a lump blocking your throat. “Ari, I…”

His thumb brushed over your kiss-swollen lips, and he shook his head ever so slightly, his gaze aflame with something that could never ever be just friendship.

“But now that I’ve had a taste of you, honey, I’m not selfless enough to give that up. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I can’t let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

And just like that, his mouth was back, his hands diving down from your face to map the shape of your body, and the tiny moan he breathed right onto your lips sent a shiver down your back. He was holding you by the hips and you tangled both of your hands into his hair, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

“I think,” he managed in between pushes of his lips. “I think the patio can wait.”

You nodded eagerly, and he stood up with ease that sent a swooping feel of desire into your core, his hands slipping under your thighs so he could carry you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your arms clung to him, and he made a beeline for the door that led inside.

It was a good thing that after all the work he’d done at the house, he knew exactly where the bedroom was.

Thank you for reading. Please consider leaving a comment, if you can spare the time and energy.

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in Jan 2025. For more new fics, check out this month's fic roundup at @1dmonthlyficroundup ! You can find my other fic recs here.

- Louis / Harry -

✧ A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 44k, famous/not famous) Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.

✧ hard times in elmsmere by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci

(M, 37k, time travel) for louis, being a full-fledged vampire complicates everything, not just his relationship with harry but with harry’s entire coven who took Louis in as an orphan.

✧ Enough To Wish For More by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(M, 33k, The Bridges of Madison County au) Louis Tomlinson just wants a few days of peace and quiet while his family are out of state. But when he meets the lead singer of a band he’s never heard of, his life and everything he thought he knew about it changes forever.

✧ On a starlit night by @lunarheslwt

(M, 24k, omegaverse) omega and future Luna Louis is holding a mating ceremony to find his mate, but what he doesn’t expect to see amongst the alphas vying for his hand, is a familiar, yet unexpected face: Harry Styles.

✧ Treat You Like A Gentleman by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 12k, neighbors) 5 times that Harry Styles was unsatisfied by his dates, and one time Louis Tomlinson helped him find what he had been missing.

✧ Roll Like Thunder by croisblue / @forwhatiam

(M, 9k, disabled Louis) When quadriplegic Louis Tomlinson's therapist recommends he see a surrogate partner, he panics, thinking this is yet another way he's being belittled for his disability. 

✧ When Everything’s Wrong (You Make it Right) by @silverstuff50

(E, 7k, omegaverse) There is something wrong with his nest. Harry’s rearranged it a thousand times tonight, even in his foggy state just on the edge of a drop.

✧ Just Two Stars Passing By by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 5k, omegaverse) Harry blew up on TikTok and became a fashion commentator during the pandemic. Somehow he ends up covering arrival fashion for the 2024 Euros, and somehow Louis Tomlinson already knows his name.

✧ A Wrench and a Rodent by @haztobegood

(T, 5k, Danny Phantom au) Louis just wants to study astrophysics, do some research, and graduate from Casper University. Fate throws a wrench in his plans.

✧ a naughty little christmas miracle by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way

(M, 4k, flirting) Louis is a luxury lingerie store employee and he's so gay. Where are all the gay men who like lingerie? Maybe the festive season will bring him a miracle.

✧ All You Want's Under Your Nose by @wishingforloushair

(E, 3k, pwp) Louis decides to treat himself to a new sex toy, but is perplexed when he sees a man in the shop placing each vibrator against the tip of his nose and sneezing. 

✧ Port and Starbord by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 3k, pirates) “Zayn,” Harry gasps. “I am your captain.”

✧ for your eyes only (i’ll show you my heart) by moon_rose25

(G, 1k, omegaverse) omega Harry has touch depri and finds comfort in alpha Louis’ scent

- Rare Pairs -

✧ Quite Like You by @reminiscingintherain

(M, 11k, Zayn/Louis) Told in a series of flashbacks, the story of Zayn and Louis from children to parents.

✧ be still, my foolish heart by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 3k, Zayn/Niall) "you really love me? this is not a prank, right? because then i would have to punch you and i actually really want to kiss you."

✧ Duck Crossing by @lululawrence

(NR, 2k, Louis/Diego Luna) My sister sent me to the discord without explaining what was so special about the town’s ducks, and when I went to ask about it, I somehow got roped into helping you here tonight instead, so…

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

Because You Know That I Love You...

Solomon x GN! reader

Summary: You surprise Solomon with a special little evening, little does he know the true plans you have in store for him...

AN: I've had this written for like a week, but wasn't happy with it, so I finally sat down tonight to fix it up a little. Just a goofy little thing, and so help me I'm going to MILK us living with Solomon as much as I can until the next season comes out! Enjoy this little goblin creature of a fic I made :)

Warnings: It's a little suggestive but it never goes anywhere, it's a silly I swear! (mostly), slightly possessive reader (matching Solomon's energy really, lol), Solomon calls reader "sweetheart" and "love," pre-established relationship

Now playing: Sacrifice (2019 Mix) - London After Midnight

“What are you doing?”

Solomon leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed as he takes in the sight before him. Scattered around the common room are dozens of lit candles, each one flickering with your movement as you make your way around to continue lighting more. There’s also a bouquet of dried red roses on the coffee table.

It seems he caught you in the middle of whatever you were setting up.

“Preparing.” you state bluntly, though your response leaves much to Solomon’s wandering imagination.

What could you be preparing for? The candles, the lighting, the flowers – in the solitude of your shared dormitory, no less…

Oh, oh my…

A slick grin pulls on his lips as it dawns on him that you’re trying create a romantic atmosphere for the two of you. That’s the only explanation there is.

He chuckles as he crosses the room to get to you. His arms circle around your waist from behind, causing you to jump slightly from his sudden touch. “Oh, love… Putting in all this effort for little ole me?”

He’s already feeling amorous and you haven’t even finished setting up yet. Tender kisses brush along the shell of your ear, his lips moving to your neck all the way down to your shoulder. Your body shivers in his hold, and his heart nearly bursts out of his chest with the knowledge that he’s affecting you in a similar manner.

“Well, you deserve the best.” It’s obvious to him that you’re fighting to keep your voice even and your hand steady as you light the last candle.

“Is that so?” Solomon places a little kiss right behind your ear his time, his hands simultaneously squeezing your hips in anticipation.

With a quick flick of your hand, the match between your fingers goes out, and you shimmy out of his eager grasp. This confuses Solomon as his eyes follow your form to the coffee table. You pick the bouquet up with a soft sigh, before mumbling in disappointment, “you weren’t supposed to see yet...”

Solomon just watches you silently for a few moments, noticing how down you seem that he ruined your surprise.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m flattered you’re doing this for me at all! I was certainly surprised to see all your efforts,” he slowly approaches you, gingerly taking the bouquet from your hand. “How about I help you finish setting up?”

With a small smile, you nod, easily agreeing to his compromise. “Okay. I could use some help anyways. Why don’t you go ahead and start picking the petals off the flowers?”

Solomon returns your smile and instantly begins on his task. He sits on the couch, holding the flowers over the table as he plucks at the petals, letting them pile up there until he’s done and you tell him where to scatter them.

“You know...” he starts, “I can’t help wonder if there’s a special occasion I’m missing here. I didn’t forget our anniversary, did I?”

“No, no special occasion, no anniversary,” you say softly as you fish into your pocket for a piece of white chalk that you had hidden there, “but there is a reason I’m doing this…”

A curious brow cocks at the piece of chalk you present. His fingers pause their movement as he watches you push the coffee table towards him on the couch and as you roll up the rug, clearing up space in the middle of the room. “Oh? And why may my adorable apprentice want to go to through such lengths for me tonight?”

You then kneel on the old, creaky floorboards, beginning to draw a large circle right on them...and a large star to match right in the center. This looks familiar. Too familiar, in fact. You’re silent as you work, almost as if you’re in some sort of trance. Solomon’s about to re-ask his question when he hears a faint whisper fall from your lips.

“I’m going to sacrifice you.”

Solomon’s eyes widen as he swallows thickly, struggling to comprehend what you just said. Where in the Seven Hells did that come from?! And why?

Although, the more he thinks about it, the idea of you being the one to sacrifice him for whatever purpose doesn’t sound so bad. You successfully caught him in your web, seducing him with gestures that seemed one way, but were really another. And here he was, foolishly aiding you along. He stares in disbelief at the pile of rose petals which were actually to be scattered around him on the pentagram... Not on the couch like he’d expected. He could almost laugh at himself right now.

“And by sacrifice, you mean…”

“Laying on the floor as I chant above you and accept you as my own personal offering.”

Oh, this just got even better.

He looks up to you, grinning as he realizes what you plan to do. “You mean to sacrifice me to yourself so that I’m permanently bound to you? Am I understanding this correctly?” Because he’d do it. Gods, he’d let you in a heartbeat if it’s what you wanted, if it meant he'd forever be tied to you.

A sly grin of your own appears, almost maniacally, on your lips. “You understood perfectly. After tonight, you’re mine.”

“I see...” Solomon nods before ultimately shrugging. He’s so into this. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s do it.”

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 1 🕊️

Welcome to Part 1 of Dead Dove-themed Tomarrymort recs. I like fluff and soft and light-hearted fic as much as the next reader, but at the end of the day, Tomarrymort is a dark ship, and there are some brilliantly talented writers here creating incredibly dark & twisted absolute mindfucks of works that I want to pay tribute to. 

Please note there can be found potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below, so this time I will be placing all 30 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if non-con/dub-con is not a theme you would like to explore. 

This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!

*

Tomarrymort Non-Con/Dub-Con Recs

A Single Love by Vera_DragonMuse (E, 23k, complete)

If Tom had been raised by Harry instead, would he have grown up to be Lord Voldemort?

A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3k, complete)

“I think a fresh start is important. I’d like one, and I think this can be it.” “It’s a bit late for a fresh start for me, don’t you think?” he retorts snidely.

Aconite; Thistle by @kushimanii (E, 32k, complete)

Voldemort decides to keep Harry alive and impregnate him to bear children that he can raise into loyal Death Eaters.

Aftertaste by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, complete)

Harry noticed the handsome stranger before the game began.

At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted." Jenkins pauses. "Might have been a girl," he says. "We don't have any drawings, and all the texts are warnings that the God-Emperor is a jealous man - do not seek his puer, or you will be slain where you stand."

Cloudy by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)

Trapped alone in a prison on an island, there are many things Tom forgets. But he never forgets Harry.

Dark Light by CrazyJanaCat (E, 3k, complete)

Nineteen years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, the Wizarding World is at peace, and for once, everything seems right. But what no one knows is that their hero has a dark secret...

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)

You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.

For He is the Sun and I am His Shadow by @aglassroseneverfades (E, 13k, complete)

The date is September 1st, 1996. Lord Voldemort is about to get everything he's ever wanted.

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)

In which one of Voldemort's horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

golden boy by @exarite (E, 3k, complete)

They thought Harry Potter was dead. Months after the battle at Hogwarts, the last of the Resistance finally gets captured. Voldemort shows them just how very much alive Harry Potter is.

Guaranteed Safety by Assapanick (E, 13k, complete)

The only problem would be convincing the Dark Lord to impregnate him, but Harry doesn’t plan on asking.

Harry Potter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rut by @neurowriter14 (E, 6k, complete)

Harry goes into the forest to confront Voldemort and his death, and all the while his rut waits in the wings, drawing Voldemort's curiosity.

Heartbeat by @phantomato (E, 24k, complete)

Harry, dumped into the past, communes with dangerous men.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.” “A sweet-hearted, good-looking, oblivious moderate, you mean?” Scorpius asks. “Well, that’s Harry Potter to a T. Too bad he’s married.” This is not the problem Scorpius thinks it is.

in bad faith by @cindle-writes (E, 3k, complete)

Voldemort, despite looking thin and skeletal, is heavy enough of a weight on Harry’s chest that he’s having trouble breathing, each breath feeling like a thick, syrupy effort to draw in. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll take care of you,” Voldemort murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Harry’s ear.

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)

Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.

Legacy by Pengress (E, 6k, complete)

His Horcrux stared at him with wide green eyes. Voldemort could see the panic, the fear. He had accepted his place in the ritual reluctantly, but he had given the important permission for Voldemort to use his body, and while the preparation seemed to have scared his Horcrux, Voldemort would make sure he would not go back on his word.

Lingering Warmth by anon (E, 2k, complete)

In the aftermath of Harry's death, Voldemort admires Harry's corpse, and when Harry comes back to life he finds himself in a perplexing situation.

My Lord, Master, My Soul by FletchleyRose (E, 69k, complete)

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort learns that Harry Potter is his unintentional Horcrux. He decides to make him his – mind, body, and soul. Harry is not on board with this plan. But when the Dark Lord starts using pleasure instead of pain to convince him, will he be able to resist?

on the other side by @philolust (E, 3k, complete)

Someone abducts Harry Potter and the Dark Lord in an effort to get them to cooperate and end the war. It goes horribly wrong.

Precious Horcrux by @loneamaryllis (E, 127k, WIP)

"Precious Horcrux..." The two possessive, cloying words, hissed low, made Harrie feel nauseous. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you."

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)

Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—

rise anew by @duplicitywrites (E, 5k, complete)

“I must thank you for this new body of mine,” Voldemort continues in an amused tone as he flexes the fingers of his new hand, examining the unnatural length of them. “It is unexpected but not… unpleasant.”

silk of midnight and dawn by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)

Harry approaches, quietly, arms raised in front of him. It doesn’t take long before pale skin transforms into soft fur as dark as the night sky. Red eyes, now green, look at Harry with such an intensity that he has to take a step back. Four-legged and as imposing as he is when standing in two, Tom Riddle has transformed into a panther.

Such a Noble Villain (part 1) / Monster Under the Bed (part 2) by Run_of_the_mill (E, 4k, complete)

Harry and Voldemort are in a classroom, and Harry is stuck to a chair. Some very weird, creepy stuff happens next because Voldemort is who he is.

The Tattoo by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k, complete)

Tom gives Harry a tattoo that creates a bond between them, giving Tom some control over his mind.

The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)

Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.

Tom Riddle and the Quest for Vulnerability by lejf (E, 16k, complete)

Auror Harry Potter has eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle bent over the table barely a day after he becomes his ward.

Violent Delights by @katsitting (E, 5k, complete)

“The Golden Boy is no more…” Voldemort whispered, voice high and reedy, amused. Harry was shoved against something hard and unyielding. It scratched along his back, chafing the skin. Harry didn’t so much as flinch, refusing to make a sound when more jeers sounded in the clearing, the words cutting through the rush of blood flooding Harry’s ears—

*

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

11:37pm | Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Request: No.

Synopsis: Hyunjin wants to spend the last thirty minutes of his birthday with his love.

Warnings: Established relationship.

Word Count: 754 - this turned out longer than I expected.

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©️ No one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my fics on here or any other site. Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. 

Hyunjin rushed straight from his birthday live to Y/N's apartment, eager to spend the last thirty minutes of his special day with his beloved. Despite exchanging texts and calls throughout the day, it simply wasn't enough for him. Their plans for tomorrow didn't suffice either. He longed to see her, to be in her presence. Due to their hectic work schedules, it had been a whole week since they last met in person. All he wanted for his birthday was to be with her. He made sure to arrive at her apartment by 11:30pm. He would have come sooner, but cutting his birthday live short would have caused some trouble.  

The moment he stepped inside, Y/N found herself enveloped in his arms, causing her to almost drop the small cake and flowers she held in her hands.  

"Happy Birthday!" she exclaimed with excitement as he released her. "I know you've probably had enough cake, but I wanted to get a small one just for you," she rambled on. "I also got you some flo-"  

Her words were abruptly cut off as Hyunjin lips clashed against hers.  

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice brimming with gratitude as he pulled away from the kiss. "But you didn't have to."  

"I know, but I wanted to do something special for you," she replied, beaming from ear to ear.  

"Being with you right now, is all I need,” he says and takes the cake and flowers from her. 

Placing the cake and flowers on the table, he notices a large canvas facing backwards leaning against the wall. Curiosity piqued his interest. He takes a step towards the other end of the table. "What's this?"  

"Nothing!" Y/N exclaims, a hint of panic in her voice. She hurriedly rushes towards the canvas, snatching it from the table before he can get a hold of it. "It's nothing. You don't want to see it."  

"Did you paint something for me, baby?" he asks, his heart swelling with joy at the thought of her creating something special for him. She has always been incredibly supportive and interested in his artwork. She never gets upset when he immerses himself in his makeshift art studio (her spare bedroom) to draw and paint. She encourages him in every way possible, and that's one of the many things he adores about her.  

"Define painting something," she cringes, glancing at the painting in her hands.  

"I really want to see it," he insists, reaching out for the canvas, only for her to step back, shaking her head.  

"Trust me, you don't want to." 

He can see the conflict between wanting to show her painting to him and the fear of what his reaction might be. He takes a step closer, gently placing a hand on her arm, trying to reassure her.  

"Y/N, you know I love everything you do. From cooking me food to how you paint my nails and everything in between" he pleads, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. “You did it for me right? Please let me see it.” 

She hesitates for a moment, her grip on the canvas tightening. Finally, she takes a deep breath, and nods letting him know she did paint it for him. Slowly, she turns the painting around, revealing it to him.  

As his eyes fall upon the artwork, his face lights up. She’s unsure why. On the canvas is a mess of colours, some blended together to make other colours. In the center is a giant outline of a heart in black. In the middle of the heart is their initials ‘H.H + L/N Y/N’.  

“You did this for me?” he asks, once again. “Baby, this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten!”  

“I doubt it’s better than the gifts you got from Versace,” she mutters more to herself. “I could have done better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjin says letting her know that he heard what she said. “This is perfect and so much better than the gifts I got from Versace. You painted this with your own hands. You made it with love. It is by far the best gift I’ve ever gotten. As soon as I get back to the dorms, it’s going on my wall.” 

He places the painting back on the table, the canvas facing the right way, so the painting is on display. He pulls Y/N back into his arms and presses another kiss to her lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Y/N replies, kissing him back. “Happy Birthday, my love.” 

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @americanoopiee - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3

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[flowermiist]

A warm heart - Prologue

Click here to read new chapters... ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn’t something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you’d stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 1.k

A/N: So I’m really excited since this is my very first fic... I still haven’t planned it much but I’m already working on the first chapter as I post this!! If you have any suggestions or comments please leave them below. Comments and reblogs are always so welcome and appreciated.

John had gotten back from base two days ago, he had spent nearly three months stuck in Egypt with some CIA members and his SAS team. Time there went slow, it felt like it would never end, most intel they could gather was messy but the missions were successful.

Sitting on his couch and with his already third glass of scotch, John knew his stomach wouldn’t actually settle for alcohol and a cigar – It was too late to go out, most places would already be closed by now – except for some street food carts and dingy local pubs. So now, both his exhaustion of having spent his whole day locked away in his office finishing reports and filling out documents was mixing with his empty stomach and possible upcoming migraines making him way too irritable and tired to even attempt going out and getting something – Not like he was even in the mood to do so.

If this moment had been one of the irritated man’s childhood caricatures, a lightbulb would have gone on above his head as he remembered the few basics he had gotten from the grocery store in the middle of the road on his way home while getting back home from base. The captain let out a deep grunt as he got up from the couch, grabbing the empty glass of scotch and the TV remote to turn it off and walk to his kitchen.

Opening his pantry, he only saw the basics, some canned tomato sauce and a single bag of spaghetti. John sighed as he grabbed those two ingredients and hopes that it would at least taste decent enough not to make his headache worse. Internally cursing himself for not getting more things from the store – not being home for too long did limit a lot of his comfort and meal options when it came to getting back after a long time, buying food that would expire too soon before going to work would only mess up his pantry and fridge.

When it came to cooking, he wasn’t exactly an expert. Yes, he could defend his culinary skills by making a good English breakfast and a cup of tea but besides that? Yeah, no. Yet for some reason, John didn’t want to admit the fact that he had grown too accustomed to the meals he’d get at base or the pickup he’d order whenever he was home. Almost embarrassing that an officer specialized in unconventional warfare or any kind of missions would find it more difficult to cook for himself than to deploy to the most dangerous and broken places on earth.

Luck had jumped out of his window and the spaghetti ended up tasting horrible to say the least – Was it the sauce? Was it expired? Or did John just get horrible at cooking at this point? Too tired to care, the gruff man washed the dishes and went to sleep. This culinary war wasn’t over.

The following morning was busy, the captain went out for a morning jog then continued finishing up the last reports. His house had been too quiet for his own liking because when a man like John Price has gotten too used to the chaos and noise of all the places he deploys to and filled with all kinds of people, being in his own house feels almost surreal. Almost like he doesn’t belong here, like all he can handle are the noises that will not leave him alone with his thoughts eating him alive.

His own perseverance and stubbornness did not allow him to give up when it came to cooking, he was a grown man for crying out loud! No goddamn way he could be able to handle all the things he sees in his line of work but couldn’t handle himself in the kitchen – he thought.

Closing the other tabs on his laptop, he entered YouTube. After searching for basic recipes to challenge himself, he came upon certain channel – “Y/N’s kitchen diaries.”

Not even ten minutes later, he was already taking notes and focusing on every single detail.

John had prepared one of the recipes for dinner after yet another visit to the grocerie store, a less rushed one this time and somewhere that wasn’t in the middle of an isolated road. Meticulously following every single step shown by the woman in the videos – he liked her voice, it wasn’t like one of those annoying cooking shows from TV that would be filled with ads for kitchen tools and nonsense chatter, it even felt as if he had some company with the video – “Here we have our final result.” She spoke softly as she was showing the results, John looked at her video then back at his plate – It looked and smelled good. “As you can see the chicken is juicy and the smoked paprika gives it that extra flavor. Now our broccoli has that chewy yet soft texture, I personally sprinkle some salt on top of it but that is up to your liking.” A small pause before she spoke again, by then, John was already placing the plate on the dining table before grabbing his phone as the young woman spoke the final lines of the video. “Thank you for watching – don’t forget to comment down below if you have any suggestions or any recipes you’d like me to try. Bye Bye!” – The video ended and John had a small smirk on his face, both proud of himself and amused by how well this went. He clicked on the “subscribe” button and left his phone on top of the counter, walking towards the dining table and taking a seat.

The moment you got home, you kicked off your high heels, grunting from the relief as you stomped on the floor a few times – getting that relief of your feet getting accustomed to flat ground again. Putting your purse aside, you make your way towards the kitchen where you open the fridge and take some leftovers from yesterday and place the plate in the microwave – this gives you some time to rush to your bedroom and get your laptop to continue editing one of your videos, a new lasagna recipe you had been improving and recorded a video of.

While making your way out of your bedroom, you hear the little musical alarm of the microwave going off. You wanted to record a little something to start with the next video; yet you knew you didn’t have the enough ingredients to do so and neither did you have the energy to edit and record at the same time, not tonight at least – “Will do it tomorrow…” you mumble to yourself as you open your laptop and set your plate on top of the coffee table of your living room. – “Thereee we go...” you almost moan the moment your body falls down onto the couch, finally getting some rest.

You took some time to check your channel, seeing if there was anything interesting – YouTube was the only platform you uploaded your cooking videos to as you didn’t see it as a big deal but rather a hobby you enjoyed and relaxed with, the rest of your social media was pretty much private and not about your recipes or small food vlogs. Learning how to edit videos by yourself hadn’t been an easy task – but to you, it was worth it as it helped you clear your mind and not seem too crazy while talking to yourself in front of a camera. Before starting to make videos, you talked to yourself while doing tasks, eventually it just came into your mind – Why the hell not? You wouldn’t seem too crazy if you talked to a camera and recorded things for yourself, right? It was a good reason to talk to yourself, not an excuse. Starting your channel had been a rather spontaneous decision you took two years ago with the difference that nowadays, you are more frequent with your content than you were back then.

Sighing in relief, you turn off your laptop since you had finally finished the last details of the video. You were already stripping off your clothes on your way to the bedroom, not caring about tonight’s shower but rather tonight’s rest, you’d do everything tomorrow.