#I could just. interact with people in ordinary conversations.

[22degreehalo]

So... I'm here.

I'm finally in a place where I can sit back and reflect.

For a long time, pretty much my entire existence has revolved around 'I need to figure out how to get a job.' It was really hard for me to properly focus on anything else (apart from hyperfixations), because it made me anxious, like I was being lazy and unproductive while not tackling the Main Problem.

And, the problem hasn't fully been solved. I'm still just a casual. I only get a few shifts per week. I'm still looking for another casual position, and to eventually be made permanent.

But the work I have is ongoing. It's not on a contract. I don't need to stress out about a defined ending date. My job is just here, indefinitely. When I get another casual position, that won't just be replacing the position I'm going to lose. (Or, as actually happened in the past, already lost.) It'll be extra. Another chance to get permanency, and a way to prove I'm good enough for two jobs.

Or maybe I could do something else? I'm not sure. Ironically, though I'm in a better position now than every before, I have wayyyy more time. (Though unfortunately I had to drop out of my tafe course the other week because the training period was just too intensive to do it alongside it.)

There is a certain feeling of directionlessness. I found myself feeling earlier today that I wished I was at work, lol: with clear tasks to complete and feel proud of. But now I can actually commit myself to other tasks with less guilt or anxiety.

I looked up affordable housing today. It still feels a bit early to actually move out. Maybe when/if I get a second casual position. It would bring a lot of other problems for me. But I think it would also be very good for my mental health in a lot of ways.

When I do move out and am living on my own... I'm not sure how I'll feel. That's what I've been working towards all this time. Will I be able to adapt to just... accepting that this is my life, rather than waiting for change? Will I feel comfortable to just appear to people as myself, happy with the way things are? It won't be The End. I've always wanted to raise a child, and that's a whole other thing. But that's something I could reasonably 'put off' until later, when I'm ready. Something I could say that I'm not doing right now because I don't want to.

I feel excited. Motivated. Like the things I work on might actually lead to something good later on, and be worth the struggle. It's still pretty vague and I don't know what to do with it, but it's there. A weight is off my shoulders. It's done.

And that feels good.

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

“The Captain’s beloved…wait, what?!”

Capitano x Gender Neutral Reader one shot

Work count: 2.2k

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship

Rating: General Audiences

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: The fatui discover that their Captain does, in fact, have a life outside of work and gossip between the ranks ensues. (Cue silly fatui shenanigans)

Ao3 Link

Capitano, the Fatui’s first lord and harbinger, contrary to popular belief, was respected and admired by his platoons rather than feared. There was a widespread misunderstanding both in and outside the organization that the Captain was a harsh and dangerous leader due to his mysterious nature. However, the people who worked under him knew better as they had grown to admire him the more they interacted with him.

He held himself with pride and treated his soldiers the same way he wanted to be treated: with respect and dignity. And in return, they learned the depths of this man’s strategic genius and strength. His strength was unmatched in combat and led his people well with good decision making and training. They could only hope to be as good as him in his various fields of expertise.

He was strict, and quick to discipline unruly fatuus, yes, but that did not stop others under his command from admiring him. And to emphasize this even more, it was clear that his fellow harbingers and even the Tsarista respected him, whether their goals and morals aligned with his or not. However, this made the people around him curious about aspects related to him outside of his work and title. He was a revered public figure and people were naturally curious about his personal life.

This is where you came in. You, his one and only beloved, the only person who held his whole heart in your hands. Not many people knew of this, but the Captain was a gentle man at his core, and you had somehow managed to uncover all of his being and see him fully as himself, without his title, without his strength. You knew this man inside and out, just as he had come to know you. It was a mutual love, one which even he did not know he was capable of feeling, and that made him all the more enamored with you.

This, however, people did not know. So you can imagine the surprise on their faces when you, an ordinary civilian, came to the Zapalyarny Palace and asked for directions to the Captain’s office. The clerk at the desk looked at you blankly, as if she were staring at an anomaly. This prompted you to try and explain yourself.

“..I’m here to drop off his lunch. So, if you don’t mind..?” You asked.

No response. The blank stare continued.

You already knew that you looked out of place in this grand palace with no Fatui uniform or mask on. But you were determined to make sure your beloved got his lunch, which you had specifically decided to make for him that day as a special treat for how hard he had been working while preparing for a business trip to Natlan.

“Excuse me..?” You said a little louder this time. That seemed to snap her back to reality.

“You cannot enter this place, only authorized personnel are allowed inside. If you’d like to meet our lord, please book your appointment accordingly.” She replied on autopilot, as if she’d rehearsed the same sentence multiple times.

“I’m sorry, I know you have your duties, but I’m here just to drop off his lunch. You can check with him yourself if you’d like..”

“He’s busy at the moment, please leave your package here and we will deliver it to him.” She replied. It seemed like you were being studied like a suspicious person who was attempting to sneak in.

Fair enough.. you thought. I was hoping I would get to spend a few minutes with him and see how he was holding up at work but that can wait till he’s home. And she’s not wrong, I did drop by without notice, so it makes sense for them to be suspicious.

Fatui soldiers passing by had also been glancing at the ongoing conversation at the front desk, eyeing the lunch box wrapped in patterned cloth in your hands with raised eyebrows. You decided to leave the food there, getting one last word in before leaving.

“If you could, please make sure it reaches him soon. It’s his favorite meal and I would prefer it didn’t go cold before he ate it.”

And then everyone watched as your ordinary self left, unaware of the number of eyes on you.

…

A pyroslinger skirmisher stationed near the entrance asked dumbfoundedly, “Did..did they just say that was the Captain’s favorite meal? Our lord harbinger?”

A cryogunner skirmisher who had also watched the whole thing go down as he clocked in asked another question right after, in the same state of confusion as the previous fatuus. “..Has anyone seen them around before? They don’t look like someone who would be seen standing next to Lord Capitano.”

And as the just as confused clerk left the scene towards his office with your goods in hand, excited chatter filled the halls.

Chaos would be the right word for it. You had left chaos in your wake with a simple visit to his workplace.

…

That night, as you and Capitano settled in to relax in your shared home after a long day of work, you asked him how his lunch was.

“It was delicious, my love.” He replied, gently caressing your face with his hands while looking down at you through his mask. “It felt like a treat to have your home cooked meal at work. You didn’t have to, but thank you. It made my day.”

You smiled and took his hands in yours as you nuzzled into his touch. “I’m glad you liked it. I was going to give it to you myself but I couldn’t enter the place.”

“You should visit more often. I’ll let the security personnel know to let you enter so you can come and go as you like.” He paused, clearing his throat. “..Seeing you in the middle of a long day would bring me relief.”

You felt slightly flushed at his straightforward choice of words. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being so..open with me. But I like it, of course. I would like that as long as I’m not disturbing you at work.”

Capitano chuckled. It was like the angels decided to bless you today, really. “I will always make time for you, my love. Just as you do for me.”

You beamed. “Okay, okay, let’s get some sleep now, Mr. Loverman. We still have work tomorrow in case you’re forgetting.”

A kiss on the forehead and the rustling of sheets was all you heard before you were whisked away to dreamland.

…

Unbeknownst to you and Capitano, however, word about you spread like wildfire across the next few days between the excited fatui soldiers. Some from even the different departments under the other harbingers might’ve heard. The person who looked like a civilian, dropping lunch packed in pretty cloth for their Lord did not go unnoticed.

This was the only time someone unrelated to work had been seen asking for their Captain and questions about your relation to him were on the tip of everyone’s tongue during break times.

Two fatuus gossiped as they watched the Captain spar in training with his fellow soldiers, admiration evident in their eyes.

“Someone dropped off lunch for him? I thought he would be too busy having meals with high rankers from across Teyvat.”

And after a short pause the other replied, “Dude, hold on, does he even eat? I thought he was superhuman or something.”

“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were that dumb, my guy.”

“Hey! Just saying… anyway, are we even sure the people weren’t hallucinating when they saw the person drop lunch off for him?”

“I heard it was his favorite meal, freshly cooked, apparently. Who knows, man? Maybe it was a fan or something. Our lord does have a pretty big following, y’know.” The fatuus stated proudly.

Their lively chatter continued until they were called back into training.

…

A few days later, as soon as you found the time, you decided to visit Capitano at work with yet another home cooked meal. You wanted to make most of your time with him before he traveled to Natlan and having meals together would be a good way to wind down a little.

You entered the palace yet again, determined to meet him this time. It should be fine, right? He did say he would inform them..

And as you had hoped so, he did, in fact, inform them. As soon as the same clerk from before saw you, it seemed like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets. All you had to do was reach the desk and she confirmed your name and led you to the training grounds, where he was currently working. It seemed like some sort of training session was in the works, with all kinds of combat taking place between the soldiers in the distance.

Before you could ask her if you were even allowed to enter this place, she bowed and hurried back in the direction of the front desk. The strange behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you but now you had to find your way to Capitano across the opposite side of the field. Since you were here at last, why not just see things through?

The middle of the field was the most densely occupied with various people fighting in different groups, while what you recognised as skirmishers were practicing their aim at dummy targets on the right side. The soldiers were hard at work even in the harsh everlasting winter of Snezhnaya. The left side of the field, however, seemed less crowded compared to the rest as people seemed to be setting up their gear or resting. Your Captain, opposite to you across the field, was busy conversing with a group of soldiers who seemed to be listening to him attentively.

You decided your best option was to take the left side. It would be easier to walk through the calm atmosphere over there.

As you made your way through the crowd, people started to notice you. They were pretty intimidating with their weapons and muscled bodies at display so you decided to be extra careful to not bump into anyone and quickly made your way across, and as you got closer, Capitano’s voice became clear.

“The heat in Natlan will be unbearable. You will be stationed in the wild all day, so make sure you have the appropriate supplies to get you through the day. It is of the utmost importance that...what, what is it? Why are you all staring at me like that?”

The group’s attention shifted from him to you, as you stood behind him and tapped his shoulder.

“Capitano, do you have a moment..?” You asked as he turned around, his armor clinking from the movement.

“Oh, my love!” He exclaimed in a soft voice. “What brings you here? Hold on, let's get you back inside. You’ll catch a cold here.”

The group (and everyone nearby) watched in complete awe as his demeanor from before completely switched from authoritative to somewhat… joyfull? Was Lord Capitano being affectionate?

“I brought you lunch, but I can leave it in your office if you’re busy right now.” You said hurriedly, not wanting to keep him busy.

“No, that won’t do, my love.” He took the package from you and placed his hand on your back. “Eat with me inside.”

He then turned back to the group, who jolted straight up at his sudden change. “Finish the supply preparations once you’re done training. All of you are dismissed.”

“Y-yes, my lord!” They replied in unison and bowed. And yet again, they watched in awe as he guided you back inside the palace, ever so gently, one hand on your back and the other carrying a box wrapped up in a floral patterned cloth. A stark contrast to his all black and blue outfit.

…

As soon as both of you were out of sight, chaos erupted yet again, more loudly this time, with multiple voices talking over the other.

“”My love?” Did he just call them “my love?” Did I hear that right?!”

“What was that? What did we just witness?”

“That was so romantic, holy shit! Was that the same person we take orders from everyday? What the hell?!”

“DID THE LORD HARBINGER JUST… GET VISITED BY THEIR SPOUSE?”

“I thought that ring on his finger was for fashion…”

And that is how they found out that their beloved Captain, who seemed to have no soul outside of his work, was a married man with a loving spouse.

This proceeded to be the hottest gossip in the Fatui for the rest of the month, until they discover more about you from another future visit.

…

BONUS:

Sitting in the privacy of his office, you enjoyed your meal together.

“..You seem to work with very strange people, Capitano.” You said to him.

“Do I? How so?” He asked before you fed him a bite.

“Hm.. actually, nevermind. It would be even stranger if they weren’t strange, considering they work with you.” You chuckled.

You enjoyed your time together and went back home, leaving your beloved in confusion from your conversation, and the sight of you fondly feeding him for him to think about for the rest of the day.

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[lulunothulu]

There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This isn’t normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

[little-jana]

"In the Depths of Thoughts"

Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Words: 950

Summary: Reader forms a quiet, emotional connection with Spencer as they work together on a case.

It was an ordinary day in the office of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, yet everything felt different. The flickering screen in front of me, the quiet conversations of the other team members, the soft clicks of keyboards – all of it was background noise in a symphony of thoughts that only I seemed to hear. And my thoughts, they belonged only to him.

Spencer Reid.

He sat there, at his usual spot, which wasn’t just his corner of the office but the center of my universe. It was hard to explain why, but every time I looked at him, it felt like time slowed down. Like every moment I spent in his presence was more precious than the last.

I knew how he thought. I understood the way he immersed himself in his books, the way he used words to explain the world as though it were an endless puzzle only he could grasp in its depth. He was so brilliant, so unique – and so incredibly vulnerable.

Lately, I’d caught myself sneaking glances at him more than once. The way he talked to the others, how his hands moved when he developed a theory that seemed incomprehensible to most of us but was so natural to him. It was almost as if I could physically feel the flow of his thoughts moving through his body, as though his intelligence was a tangible presence.

“Have you gone through the new profile?” I suddenly heard his voice behind me. It was calm, almost too calm, as if he didn’t want to disturb me. I turned around and met his gaze. For a moment, I was frozen. It was as if his eyes were piercing right through me, as if he could read what I couldn’t bring myself to say.

“Yeah, I just finished it,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady and professional. But it was difficult when his gaze, that penetrating gaze, was so intense. The way he looked at me wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was almost as if he was discovering me – me, not just as a colleague but as something much deeper. Something I couldn’t name, but that rose within me every time he was near.

“Good,” he said with a faint smile, which only amplified his shy charm. “If you want, we can go through it together. Maybe you’ll find something I missed.” It was the way he said it – calm, yet so inviting – that I couldn’t resist agreeing.

We sat together at a table, the screen between us, but in that moment, it felt as though everything else around us faded. Only he and I. I could feel the quiet presence of his nearness, the subtle shift in his body as he searched for his thoughts. It was almost as though we were engaged in a silent conversation – a conversation without words. Our eyes met again and again, and with each glance, something unspoken seemed to pass between us – an unspoken connection that I couldn’t explain but that was drawing me in more and more.

“You know,” he suddenly began, his voice quieter, “I admire how you always stay so calm. You have a way of interacting with people that I don’t have. I... I often don’t understand what goes on in people’s heads. But with you, you have such a calmness that I somehow... admire.” His words hit me like a soft blow to the stomach. I wasn’t sure if he realized what he had just said, but it felt like he was breaking down a wall – a wall that stood between us.

I could feel my heart racing as I looked into his eyes. “Spencer,” I whispered, “you’re… so much more than you think. You’re extraordinary. You see the world in a way no one else can. Your intelligence is... overwhelming. But it’s your empathy that really sets you apart. You understand people in a way that you might not even realize.” I paused, unsure if I should say more, but I couldn’t stop myself from continuing. “You’re not just the brilliant investigator who finds the answers. You’re someone who can delve into the deepest corners of the human mind without ever losing your humanity.”

For a moment, it was silent. The words I had spoken hung between us, floating like a delicate thread in the air. Then, slowly, almost from a distance, I felt his hand on mine. It was a careful, almost hesitant touch – but it was there. It was as if, in that moment, he allowed himself to be something more. More than just the brilliant, fact-driven agent. More than just the quiet man who never knew how to open up to others.

“I...,” he began, his voice faltering. “I don’t know how to explain it, but... sometimes I feel like I’m lost in a world of data. Like I only understand life through theories and formulas. But you... you’ve shown me that there’s more. That there are moments that can’t be captured by calculations.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I... I appreciate that more than you can imagine.”

His words hit me, and without hesitation, I squeezed his hand. “Spencer,” I said softly, “you’re not alone. Not in your world of numbers, of theories. I’m here. I’ll always be here to remind you that there’s more – more than just the facts.”

And in that moment, as time seemed to stand still, I knew there was something between us that went beyond words. Something we both understood, but never needed to speak aloud. A bond stronger than any calculation.

Part 2

[xiaq]

Have you ever talked about LRPD’s title? Is it inspired by the Hozier song?

[wow this ended up being long]

Yes! Like Real People Do’s title came from the Hozier song.

To me, the song is about two traumatized people wishing they could love with the simple of ease of the “ordinary” and I know I’m not the only queer person to take that interpretation.

See, I knew intimately what it was like to look at someone and think I could love them, maybe, but also recognize that the process of finding out wouldn’t be simple purely because that person shared my gender.

I recall a pretty terrible moment of recognition when I was a teenager; being bisexual, I’d had a handful of crushes at that point. But when I had a crush on a boy, the scariest thing about it was if I flirted and he wasn’t interested. If he was, the rest was easy—dates and kisses and getting to know each other.

But with a girl, I wasn’t even sure what the scariest thing could be. There wasn’t just the risk of her not returning my interest. If she WAS interested, that would be far more dangerous. How would we maintain our relationship in secret? What if we were discovered? We’d certainly be kicked out of our very conservative private school. But would we also be kicked out of our homes? Would we be sent away to special schools or conversion therapy? Would our lives irrevocably be changed purely because we wanted to experience the simple teenage pleasure of falling in love?

It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t we just kiss like real people do?

And even when I moved away from home and went to college, that fear [not to mention the boatload of religious trauma] followed me and colored my interactions as I cautiously started seeking out queer spaces.

The first time I heard the song, I had an almost visceral reaction to it—I was catapulted back to being a teenager struggling with this yearning that existed within me that I felt I could tell no one without cataclysmic risk.

When I wrote Like Real People Do in my early 20’s I was still very much grappling with that feeling and I put a lot of that yearning into Alex’s character. And while I’m not sure the book does justice to the title, I certainly thought the title encapsulated the excitement-tempered-by-fear vibe I was going for with Alex and Eli’s romance.

(I had another formative moment, many years later, after I moved to the Gayborhood in Dallas [mentioned in book 4!]. It was the opposite scenario, where I found myself waiting outside the S4 club, looking around at so many unapologetically queer people and feeling like I could kiss anyone I wanted on the street without fear. And god do I wish everyone felt that way all the fucking time.)

[daisynik7]

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society. 

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit. 

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more. 

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more. 

This theory is soon debunked. 

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood. 

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious. 

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later. 

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone. 

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you. 

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t. 

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special. 

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him. 

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him. 

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay. 

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence. 

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life. 

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won. 

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody. 

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright. 

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night. 

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more. 

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore. 

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front. 

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful. 

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you. 

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

[oracle-of-dream]

Hotel Hookup

Summary: You're a huge Riize fan, and you're bias is Wonbin. You recently got to go to their concert and had so many amazing interactions with Wonbin. After the concert, you bump into each other in the bathroom and he gives you his autograph, along with his hotel room number...

Warnings: Male reader, Virign reader, idol Wonbin, dry humping, sub reader, dom Wonbin, corruption kink

Wordcount: 2.5k

This is a request

Walking down the street to the venue, the excitement was washing over you. The headlights of traffic, the breeze in your face, and the squeals and screams of fans as they travel with you to the same place. It was still hard to believe you managed to land tickets for the Riize concert, much less get a lucky VIP ticket.

The venue offered five random tickets to be selected for the VIP treatment, along with being able to purchase the VIP upgrade. The day you got the email that your seat was one of the lucky five, you almost slapped yourself; thinking it was a dream. The VIP treatment came with a seat upgrade, sound check, a hi-touch, and even a photo with a member.

You crossed the last street before reaching the venue; the lights shined into the night sky, and you could hear the thumbs of the speakers vibrating through your feet. The line for the VIP was almost empty, while the main entry had people lining up with at least 100 people already there. They must've camped out all day to get in line so early...

A staff member caught you taking in the view and approached you. "Are you lost? If you need, I can show you where you need to go."

You pulled out your phone and showed them your ticket.

"Oh, the VIP section is that way! You might want to hurry the sound check may start soon."

You followed the staff's directions: moving through the VIP section, rushing through the security check, and making it to your seat. The stage was so close, much closer than you could've imagined. You had a clear view of the right side of the stage, a little above the barricade. You were allowed to go to the barricade, but after hearing how vicious it gets, you decided against it.

After waiting about 10 minutes, some of the opening music started playing, and the members were lifted onto the stage from the floor. The VIP audience cheered for them as Riize went through the motions of their concert, practicing their last bits of choreography and interacting with fans as they did. Wonbin approached your side of the stage and waved toward your section, making all the girls scream and shout for his direct attention. Shyly, you smiled and waved back, cheering but not as loud as the others in your section. He smiled and walked off, but stayed around the right side of the stage.

Wonbin was even more beautiful than any of his photos. His glasses sat on his chiseled nose, his most of hair neatly tucked behind his ears with few strands sweeping onto his face, and his baggy white t-shirt that exposed his collar bone and some of his chest made him look like an ordinary guy. But you knew he was anything but that... For the rest of the sound check, Wonbin kept swinging by your section and giving love to your group.

There was a small break before the concert fully started. Some of your friends texted you asking to meet up with you. Agreeing to meet at the food court and get snacks.

After chatting with your friends, you stopped by the bathroom before heading back to your seat. A bit of a perk of being a male K-pop fan was that the men's bathroom was usually deserted compared to the huge line out of the women's room.

Just as you suspected, the bathroom was empty. You went to a stall and went about your business. Just as you finished, you heard the door open. Two people came in, a man and a woman, speaking Korean. You didn't know why, but you jumped onto the toilet seat to hide your feet.

No way someone was coming in here to hook up...

There was another bit of conversation before you heard the door shut again. Not a noise...

You stepped down from the toilet and opened the stall to see a figure with long black hair looking at himself in the mirror. He turned around to look at you. His long black hair coiled beautifully around his face. Wonbin was looking directly at you. Just the two of you in that bathroom...

"I'm sorry, I was just in here and..." You started but lost the courage to continue.

Wonbin smiled at you. "It's okay, I thought my manager checked well enough. Please, enjoy the show." He bowed slightly and walked out the door, walking away with his manager.

You washed your hands at the sink, reeling from the experience of having spoken to him. You sprinted back to your seat when you heard the crowd start cheering, signaling the start of the show. You'd have to tell your friends about meeting him later!

The concert itself was amazing. Anton's cello performance with Sohee singing a ballad, and watching Eunseok, Sungchan, and Shotaro have a dance-off made you laugh so hard. Wonbin's stage was a solo performance. He played guitar and sang, silencing the entire venue. He covered, "Attention" by Charlie Puth.

His eyes were trained on the camera in front of him, but every few words he'd glance off in the direction of the audience. One of those glances shot right at you. At first, it felt like it was a coincidence, just a lucky look, but he looked back. Again and again. After finding you in the crowd, he couldn't help himself from looking in your direction. Your face got warm at his expression, the look in his eyes.

"What are you doing to me?" He sang, looking directly at you. It felt like he was speaking to you.

Before you knew it, the song was over... The concert resumed and the audience was cheering loudly again, but you still couldn't get over Wonbin. The concert ended in a flash. Riize was giving their last goodbye, finished an encore stage, and started leaving. The staff directed the VIP section to follow them backstage to get a picture with the members. And you couldn't help but touch up your look, making sure you didn't look a mess before you got to meet them.

The boys came out of their dressing room, still wearing their outfits from the encore stage and wiping some of their sweat from performing. One by one they went through everyone. Sometimes the members chose who was going to take a picture if the fan was too overwhelmed. But when you stepped forward, Wobin immediately stepped forward for your photos, holding you by the waist while taking your phone to take it. That's when staff walked out with Riize's newest album as a surprise gift to the fans. Each member took the time to sign the albums and talk to each fan. The conversations were cut short, as the staff didn't let you speak for long, but Wonbin winked at you when he gave you your album.

"Read my message before you leave! I hope you like it!" He said as he was ushered back into the dressing room.

You followed the staff out the side door and walked to your car. Once inside you took a moment to crack open the album and find Wobin's message he left for you.

Our meeting in the bathroom was fun, let's meet again! Come to this address, my room number is 247, on floor 20. Knock three times so I know it's you. Don't keep me waiting~

-Wonbin

Your jaw was ready to come clean off your face. Wonbin wanted to meet you again!? You could hardly believe getting to meet him, much less him wanting to see you again. Not wanting to wait another moment, you put the address into your GPS and drove off to meet him.

The address led you to a fancy hotel, looking over the downtown area and not too far from the area. You nervously entered the lobby, trying to act natural so no one would stop you. You got past the front desk and got into the elevator right as someone else was getting in.

"Could you push floor 20 for me?" You asked.

The person nodded, mostly absorbed in their phone to fully acknowledge you.

You got to the twentieth floor and wandered before finding the door... Room 247. Holding your hand up to the door was harder than you expected. Your heart was in your throat, terrified that you'd get busted or get the wrong room. Before you got to knock, the door opened, and Wonbin standing in the doorway.

"Come in, quick!"

You hurried into the room and he closed it behind you. "So... Wonbin, it's so–"

Wonbin smashed his lips into yours, trying to make out with you.

Your eyes widened. You couldn't push him away, but you didn't know where to touch him either. And he must've noticed, as he took your hands and placed one on his neck and the other on his waist.

When you separated for a moment, you took your opportunity to speak. "Wait, I thought you just wanted to meet again!"

Wonbin laughed. "We can meet and fuck. Can't we?" He walked toward you slowly as you backed away from him.

"Can you slow down for a minute?" You backed into a chair, falling into the seat.

"What's wrong?" Wonbin frowned. "Am I not hot enough? You looked like you liked me watching you, and you look really about now." Wonbin's eyes pointed out the tent in your pants.

"You're hot! Super hot! I'm just..."

Wonbin tucked his hair behind one ear. "Say it for me to hear. Speak clearly."

"I'm still... a virgin."

Wonbin froze in shock. "You came here, a full-on virgin?"

You nodded, embarrassment starting to color your face. "No one's even seen it before."

"It? You mean your cock?" Wonbin laughed. "You've never taken a dick pic before, or anything?"

You shook your head.

Wonbin's energy changed. It felt less like a sexual panther, ready to pounce, and more like a sensual snake. It was clear that Wonbin was charged, but he could tell you weren't ready to drive over the edge just yet.

Wonbin sat on the bed. "So level with me. Have you had an orgasm? Like have you jerked off?" His tone was curious and playful.

You rubbed your fingers together, not answering him. "Well... I've tried, but it felt weird..."

"How so?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you..." You confessed in a soft whisper.

"That's not a bad thing! People jerk off to hot people all the time, that's what porn is for. I'm honestly flattered, so don't feel embarrassed." Wonbin approached you again, taking your face in your hands. "Let's take it slower then. Can I kiss you, y/n?"

It felt like a dream hearing Wonbin call you by your name. You nodded, closing your eyes and letting your lips connect softer this time.

Wonbin led, moving his lips gently so you could pick on the timing. He stroked your neck and gently pulled you into him, moaning into the kiss. Once you showed you could handle it, he moved your hands to hold his hips and moved to sit in the chair on your lap.

You separated again. His lips were pinkish and cute.

"Can I touch you, y/n?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"Words." He commanded.

"Y–Yes, please touch me, Wonbin." You replied, embarrassed to say it aloud.

Wonbin reinitiated the kiss and let his hands run over your shoulders and down your back, pushing against your muscles as they tensed from his touch. They slowly dragged down into your lap.

Wonbin pulled awake again. "Before we keep going, now's the time to speak. What do you want exactly?"

Your mouth was dry when you opened it to speak. "I–I don't know if I can go all the way, but I also want to make you happy and please you. So I'll do whatever you think is–"

Wonbin placed his finger on your lips. He stood and stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his hands, and slowly stripped off his pants. Leaving him in his underwear.

Somehow your dick got even harder, the strain against your pants almost pleasurable.

Wonbin came back to you and sat down on your lap, laying his back against you and sitting perfectly on your clothed member. He took one of your hands and guided it to his underwear, letting it slide underneath the waistband.

You felt his cock, warm and squishy in your hands but hard at the same time. It was different from yours, it felt pretty. Slender, and about five inches. Wonbin guided you, moving your hand up and down, stroking him. When he let go of your hand, you continued to move earning moans of pleasure from him. His legs shook and he pushed against you, his ass rubbing against your dick in your pants.

Wonbin made a rhythm. Every time to stroked him, he'd push against you. A push and pull, giving you both pleasure. You could see a wet spot at his tip in his underwear. Curiously, you poked it and precum stuck on your finger, using it while you stroked him.

"Oh, improvising is good. I like that!" Wonbin purred.

"C-Can I see it?" You whispered.

Wonbin giggled. He lifted his lips and slid his underwear down enough for his cock to spring out, with your hand wrapped around its base.

Watching your hand work over Wonbin, and his reactions to you touching him were like magic to you. You focused on his tip, making his whole body shake and tense.

"Oh, fuck! If you do that, I'll cum fast..." Wonbin warned. "How about you, how are you feeling?"

You loved every ounce he gave you. It itched and burned in just the right places and feeling Won's body against yours was heaven with his sing-song voice moaning in your ears.

"I'm gonna lose it. It feels really hot like I'm gonna pee. But it's not exactly pee?"

Wonbin smiled. "Oh? You're close, are you? I'm right here, so go ahead and finish. It's gonna be amazing."

You trusted Wonbin, letting your body control everything. Your hips pushed forward to meet Wonbin grinding against you as you felt the pressure get worse. You couldn't help but bury your head into Wonbin's neck, softly biting and letting the feeling wash over you as your body stiffened all over you. You cock twitched again and again, shooting cum inside your pants. You didn't realize you were squeezing Wonbin so tight until you felt his cum leaking down your hand.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath.

"I wasn't exacting the biting," Wonbin moaned.

"I–I'm sorry. It just happened."

"No, it was amazing. You did amazing..." Wonbin stood up. "You may want to take those off before it dries, by the way..."

You got nervous again. "Are you going to watch?"

"Y/n. You're not leaving until we fuck. But we have all night, so we don't have to rush."

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

A lot of people will be spending more time with their families of origin in the next few weeks.

And when you're with people you've spent so much time around in the past, it can be easy to fall into old habits and social role dynamics without really noticing, and without evaluating whether those patterns are reflective of the values we have now.

So with that in mind, I'd like to gently suggest taking a closer look at your family's interactions and see whether there are patterns you're part of that you don't want to be and could potentially do something to disrupt.

For example, is there anyone:

your family routinely treats as faintly ridiculous or hysterical?

or whose ideas, opinions, or interests are automatically dismissed by the group when those same things would be worthy of consideration/discussion from someone else?

or who gets teased and made fun of more than others, or past the point where they seem to be having fun?

or who is expected to do a disproportionately large amount of work that others could be helping with?

or who is consistently left out of group activities and is not asked if they'd like to join this time? (Do they think you'd be happy if they did join in?)

or who is automatically treated like "the problem" in any conflict they're in, regardless of whether they initiated the conflict or were being reasonable or not?

or who makes/has made repeated requests that some reasonable boundary be respected that is habitually ignored, belittled, or argued with?

or who habitually speaks or acts in unkind or unloving ways and gets minimal pushback, and/or minimal concern for the targets of their unkindness, because "that's just how they are"?

Or is there maybe:

a gender, racial, and/or class/income, etc., divide in who in your family does how much cooking/cleaning/kinship work?

a difference in who leads dinnertable conversations and whose input, interests, opinions, etc., are more valued/respected?

a difference in whose job or home life is worthy of being asked about?

automatic assumptions about people's interests, skills, life experiences, etc., that haven't been updated in years? Is anyone trying to build connections and find out more about who each of you are now?

Group social dynamics are always complicated, and perhaps never more so than in families. I'm not in your family, and I don't know the complicated contexts between each of the members. I also don't know how you'd like your family interactions to go, or if you're even spending time together willingly or unwillingly. Maybe this post will be helpful to you, maybe not.

But if you want your family to interact in more loving ways, sometimes as adults or even teenagers there ARE things we can do to interrupt patterns people are participating in without even noticing!

We can start helping with work we're not expected to participate in, and we can ask others who don't participate to take on part of the task. (In many families, a man standing up and starting to clear away the dishes and saying, "Brian, would you mind grabbing the green beans and the mac and cheese?" would be out of the ordinary if the women usually do that, but (in many families) people would go along with it once suggested.)

We can try to bring neglected others into conversation by asking and genuinely listening to their thoughts and opinions.

We can speak up when someone's interrupted and insist that we want to hear the rest of their thought.

We can take seriously the person treated like a joke, and show others that we're taking them seriously.

We can say "I don't think we need to discuss people's bodies here" or "not cool, dude" and redirect the conversation when someone is unkind.

Sometimes we can take people aside and ask them to ease up on a person being teased. Sometimes saying "I think it's actually hurting their feelings" or "it's not funny anymore, let up" is enough to actually make a difference.

We can ask about someone's job, interests, home life, hobbies etc., when they are usually left out of being asked.

We can try to remember that people aren't fixed in stone, and try to get to know who people are now without making too many assumptions.

Sometimes harmful patterns can be interrupted just by pointing them out and making an effort to not participate in them anymore.

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Guys, I beg for patience hahaha

Long before Wanda and R's relationship, there is an extremely complex universe, so this needs to be built to make sense. I promise the kiss is comin and it will be surprising, in the meantime, enjoy the slow burn <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Summary: the arrival of a well-known figure is what the witch in Wanda needed to take over the reins.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

FIRE

In an open field in space, a spacecraft glided smoothly through the infinite darkness. Inside, Carol Danvers was adjusting the settings on the main panel.

“Danvers,” Strange’s voice echoed in her communicator.

Carol rolled her eyes, but a smile curved her lips. “Sorcerer Supreme. Long time, no see. I hope this is important because I was in the middle of—”

“We need you,” Strange interrupted, the urgency in his voice cutting off any attempt at casual conversation.

Carol’s smile disappeared. “What’s going on?”

Strange appeared as a holographic projection in front of her, the Eye of Agamotto glowing on his chest. “The Scarlet Witch. Wanda Maximoff. I’ve located her.”

Carol crossed her arms, her face hardening. “Wasn’t she... dealt with at Mount Wundagore?”

“Not exactly,” Strange replied, his voice serious. “She survived. She’s in an alternate universe, without full powers for now, but that won’t last. If she remembers who she is—or worse, if another version of her intervenes—she could destroy reality again.”

Carol nodded slowly, the weight of the mission beginning to take shape in her mind. “And you want me to bring her in. Why? Seems more like your area of expertise.”

Strange sighed. “I can’t get involved directly. She has ties to the Darkhold that could interfere with my magic, even in a different universe. You, on the other hand, are practically indestructible.”

A sarcastic smile returned to Carol’s face. “Practically?”

Strange ignored the remark. “Your strength is what we need. But be careful, Carol. She may be weakened, but that doesn’t make her any less dangerous. Wanda is unpredictable. And, above all, she’s emotional.”

Carol tilted her head, her gaze narrowing. “So it’s a search-and-capture mission. Only this time, the target might destroy me if I make a mistake. Perfect.”

Strange opened a portal, his expression even darker. “Remember: she’s not the same Wanda we knew. Proceed with caution.”

[...]

Carol stepped through the portal into a world that seemed almost idyllic. The city's urbanization was a near-perfect blend of Westview and New York. The Captain took a deep breath, taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere. The place was surprisingly ordinary, but the small details buzzed in her mind with distrust. Impeccable lawns, vibrant flowers adorning windows, streets too clean, and yet… something felt off.

As she walked, her attention was drawn to a university at the city's center, surrounded by tall trees and an open field. This was where Strange had detected the core of Wanda's residual energy.

Bizarrely intriguing.

Carol found Wanda an interesting woman. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn’t help but admire Wanda—not just as the powerful Scarlet Witch, but as a woman. A woman seemingly burdened with sorrow and mystery, a walking paradox of strength and vulnerability.

“This doesn’t look like the kind of place you’d find a dark sorceress,” she murmured to herself, adjusting her communicator.

Strange responded in her ear. “She’s hidden herself in a universe that doesn’t attract attention. The problem is, that means the people here have no idea who she is... or what she’s capable of.”

As Carol walked the streets, she felt something—a subtle pulse in the air, almost like static electricity.

“She’s close,” Strange warned.

Entering the university, Carol tried to blend in with the students rushing out of their classes. Suddenly, someone bumped into her. Carol barely moved from the impact, but she looked down to see you had stumbled and fallen. It was unusual for her to be caught off guard, especially by something as mundane as an accidental encounter.

“Sorry,” you murmured, hurrying to gather the books and papers scattered on the ground.

Carol crouched to help, her eyes lingering on you longer than necessary. There was something about your presence that gave her pause—a strange magnetism, as if you carried something she couldn’t quite identify.

“It’s fine,” Carol replied, her voice calm. “Are you okay?”

You looked up, meeting her blue eyes. For a moment, time seemed to slow. There was an intensity there, as if Carol was seeing something deeper in you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you replied, a bit flustered. “Sorry about that.”

Carol handed you the papers she’d picked up but didn’t step away immediately. She tilted her head slightly, studying you.

“You’re different,” she said without thinking.

You frowned, a little defensive. “What?”

Carol hesitated, realizing she’d spoken too much. “I don’t know. You just seem... special.”

You let out a short, nervous laugh. “If that’s your attempt at flirting, you need more practice.”

Carol smirked, surprised by your response. “It wasn’t that,” she said. “But I’ll take the tip.”

The moment was interrupted by a familiar sensation that passed through Carol like a wave. Energy. Red. Unstable. She immediately went on high alert, her eyes scanning for the source.

You noticed the change in her expression and followed her gaze. “Are you looking for someone?”

Carol glanced back at you, debating whether to be honest. “Maybe,” she said finally. “Do you study here?”

“Yes,” you replied, still intrigued. “Why?”

Before Carol could answer, a group of students passed between you, forcing her to step back. When she looked again, you were already walking away, heading into the main building.

She stood there for a moment, thinking. Something about you unsettled her in a way she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just the energy she’d sensed. It was the way you seemed completely normal and yet... something more.

“Interesting,” Carol murmured to herself before continuing her search, now with you in mind.

As Carol moved through the corridors, she couldn’t stop thinking about you. That brief interaction had left a mark. There was something in your eyes, something that seemed to carry a weight heavier than it should for someone so young.

Then she heard it—a low laugh and a murmur unmistakable in its tone. Following the sound, Carol found you again, talking with a group of classmates. You seemed relaxed, but your eyes betrayed you. They held the same intensity she had seen in Wanda.

Carol’s heart raced. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she now knew her mission had just become much more complicated.

She entered the university office with decisive steps, the air charged with the familiar tension of magic. The space looked normal, but there was a latent energy that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Wanda stood near the window, her gaze lost on the horizon, but her posture rigid, as if ready to strike.

Wanda raised her eyes, and for a moment, her gaze met Carol’s. There was something almost unsettling in her expression, as if she were bracing for the worst and yet completely indifferent to it.

“Captain Marvel,” Wanda said, her tone disdainful but laced with exhaustion. “Come to take me back?”

Carol stopped a few steps away, her arms relaxed at her sides. “Depends,” she said, tilting her head. “Are you going to cooperate?”

Wanda let out a short, humorless laugh. “Cooperate? Do you think I’m some escaped prisoner?”

Carol didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she sat down on the floor, crossing her legs as if she were there for a casual chat. The gesture made Wanda frown.

“Why are you here, Carol?” Wanda finally asked, her tone impatient.

“I’m here because you’re hurt, Wanda,” Carol said bluntly. “And when someone like you is hurting, the whole world feels it.”

Wanda looked away, as if the words had struck a sensitive nerve. “I’m not a danger to anyone here.”

“For now,” Carol replied softly. “But that’s not what this is about, is it? You’re not hiding because you want to hurt anyone. You’re hiding because you don’t know how to stop hurting yourself.”

Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken emotions.

Wanda finally broke the silence, her voice lower, almost a whisper. “You don’t know what it’s like, Carol. To lose everything. Absolutely everything. And still be expected to exist as if nothing happened.”

Carol tilted her head. “No, I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything,” she admitted. “But I know what it’s like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. To feel like you have to be strong all the time because if you break, everything else breaks with you.”

Wanda looked at her, her eyes shining with something Carol couldn’t quite identify. “And can you handle it?”

Carol gave a sad smile. “I do my best. But I won’t pretend it’s easy. And neither should you.”

The red glow in Wanda’s eyes flickered for a moment before being replaced by an expression of doubt. “I don’t know how to fix this,” she admitted.

“Maybe you don’t need to fix it,” Carol said. “Maybe you just need to accept that you’re not alone.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Wanda seemed to consider the idea. But then, like a barrier being raised, her expression hardened again.

“You don’t understand,” she said, standing up. “I’m not just me. I’m her. I’m chaos. I’m destruction.”

Carol stood up as well, her eyes fixed on Wanda’s. “And I’m Carol Danvers,” she said firmly. “I’m a woman who’s faced gods and monsters. If you think I’m going to give up on you just because it’s easier, you’re wrong.”

For a moment, the silence returned, but this time, it felt different. A palpable tension hung in the air. Wanda finally looked away, her expression conflicted and contradictory.

“Leave, Carol,” she said weakly. “Before it’s too late.”

The conversation seemed to be nearing an end until Carol brought you up.

“Is it her? Is she the girl?” Carol asked, her voice laden with curiosity.

The weight of Carol's words hung in the air like distant thunder, but Wanda remained quiet, unmoving like a statue. Inside, however, she was a battlefield.

"She's right, you know," the Witch whispered in her mind, her voice dripping with venom and truth. "This girl is different. But you'll never have anything if you keep hiding."

Wanda clenched her fists, the red in her hands flickering between brightness and shadow. "I’m not hiding," she replied internally, her tone full of desperation and denial.

"Yes, you are. Hiding behind an idea of normalcy that was never yours. If you wanted your family, you should've fought for them. If you want this girl, you must fight now. Before it's too late."

The effect was immediate. Wanda faltered, her body trembling for a moment. The red glow Carol knew so well began emanating from Wanda’s hands, faint at first, but rapidly intensifying. Wanda closed her eyes, trying to contain the surge, but it was already too late.

"Don’t talk about her," Wanda whispered, her voice low but laden with threat. When she opened her eyes, the deep red glimmered within them, and Carol instinctively stepped back, raising an energy barrier.

"I knew it," Carol murmured, more to herself. "It’s her. She’s awakening something in you, something you can’t control."

"You don’t understand," Wanda growled, her voice now a blend of the woman Carol knew and something more primal. "She’s not just a girl. She... she completes me. She makes me feel alive in a way nothing else can."

Carol clenched her fists, struggling to maintain her composure. "It’s not her awakening this, Wanda. It’s the Witch within you. She’s using your feelings to gain strength."

Within Wanda's mind, the battle raged on. Carol's voice and the reality around her faded, replaced by an increasingly tumultuous internal dialogue.

"You see it, don’t you?" the Witch taunted, her voice echoing through Wanda's mind. "She understands, even if she tries to deny it. She knows I’m a part of you. I always have been."

"You’re just a part I never wanted," Wanda retorted, fighting to keep control of her thoughts. "You’re pain, chaos, destruction. I’ve tried... I’ve tried to get rid of you."

"And where has that led you?" the Witch shot back, sharp. "To loneliness. To emptiness. To the endless nights you spent crying over everything you’ve lost. But now... now you have something. Her. And you want to tell me you don’t feel the power growing because she’s here?"

Wanda hesitated, and the pause was enough for the Witch to press harder.

Wanda let out a bitter laugh, and the power around her intensified. "You think you can separate me from her? From myself? You have no idea what it’s like to live with this pain, this emptiness. She’s the only thing that fills it."

"The girl sees you, Wanda. All of you. Not just the mother, the teacher, the broken woman. She sees the strength The power. She sees... me."

As Carol continued speaking, trying to reach Wanda, the primal side of the Scarlet Witch began fully emerging. Wanda’s movements became more fluid, almost as if she were floating, and the crimson aura surrounding her grew nearly suffocating.

"I don’t want her to see this," Wanda whispered, the weight of the truth choking her. "I don’t want to be this. I don’t want to hurt her."

"You can’t hurt what’s meant for you," the Witch said, her voice dripping with certainty. "She’s here for a reason. You feel it, don’t you? She’s the thread connecting you to what you’re meant to be. Not the teacher. Not the mother. But the Scarlet Witch. Me."

Wanda shut her eyes, trying to push the words away, but they were like a constant drumbeat in her mind. Outside, she could feel Carol’s presence, the tension in the air, but she was too far gone to act.

"And if I lose everything again?" Wanda asked, her voice trembling.

"You only lose when you resist," the Witch replied, now soft, almost gentle. "Let me take over, Wanda. Just this once. You don’t have to bear this alone."

"I can’t..."

"You can," the voice interrupted firmly. "I am you, Wanda. We’re not enemies. We’re two sides of the same coin. And together... we’re unstoppable."

"Wanda," Carol tried once more. "You don’t have to do this. We can find a solution together."

But it was no longer Wanda in control.

"Don’t underestimate me, Captain," the Scarlet Witch said, her voice brimming with a confidence and cruelty that made Carol shudder. "I’m not the woman you think you know. Not anymore."

Carol felt the impact before the attack landed. Red energy slammed into her barrier, nearly knocking her backward. She countered, but she realized that, no matter how powerful she was, she was up against something far greater than just magic: it was a broken heart, a divided soul, and a passion that had turned into something dangerous and overwhelming.

Wanda’s internal struggle between her human side and the Scarlet Witch was palpable, but now, standing before Carol, the primal, wild side had taken control.

"She’s mine!" the Witch murmured, as if it were both a promise and a threat.

The air in the room thickened, charged with the energy of two titans on the brink of collision. Carol clenched her fists, golden energy beginning to radiate from her body, illuminating the space. Wanda, in turn, was entirely enveloped in her crimson aura, her eyes glowing with a dangerous intensity.

"If you won’t stand down willingly," Carol said gravely, "then I’ll use force."

Wanda tilted her head, a cruel smile curling her lips. "Fine."

Without another word, Carol struck first, surging forward at supersonic speed. Her golden energy tore through the air like a comet, aiming straight for Wanda’s chest. But the Scarlet Witch raised a hand casually, creating a crimson barrier that absorbed the blow as if it were nothing.

"You’re predictable," Wanda taunted before unleashing a wave of energy that sent Carol hurtling backward, smashing through the walls of the university office and landing in the courtyard.

Students fled in panic as the two titans clashed. Carol stood, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. She charged at Wanda again, this time surrounding her with an explosion of energy that fractured the ground beneath them.

"Is that all you’ve got?" Wanda mocked, before vanishing in a red mist and reappearing behind Carol, grabbing her by the neck with supernatural strength.

"You think you can stop me, Carol? Everything in this universe belongs to me, Captain... even you."

With a roar of rage, Carol channeled all her energy into a concentrated attack, exploding outward. The impact was so powerful that it tore a rift in the multiverse, exposing glimpses of parallel realities. But Wanda only laughed.

"You’re playing with forces you don’t understand," she said, extending her hands. Her red magic enveloped the rift, sealing it effortlessly.

Carol, panting, fell to her knees. But before she could react, Wanda whispered a spell, and magical chains wrapped around Carol’s body, binding her in place.

"You’re strong," Wanda admitted, circling Carol like a predator. "But brute strength is nothing against the power of chaos."

With an elegant gesture, Wanda conjured an orb of crimson energy filled with glowing runes. She sent it toward Carol like a breath, and though Carol tried to resist, the spell was irresistible. The Captain Marvel’s golden light faded, and her gaze turned vacant.

Carol rose slowly, but she was no longer herself. Her body was a vessel, now controlled by Wanda’s will.

"Welcome to my world, Captain," Wanda said, approaching Carol and caressing the ex-heroine’s face as if she were a masterpiece. "Perfect. Submissive. Mine."

Wanda smiled triumphantly, her eyes still glowing red. She raised her arms, and the universe around her seemed to bend to her will. The sky turned a pulsating crimson, and the air vibrated with raw energy.

Every star on the horizon flickered, as if fearing her presence.

"I warned you," she murmured, a victorious smile gracing her lips, her eyes blazing like fire. "Queens aren’t dethroned. They take what’s theirs."

And in that moment, the multiverse knelt before the Scarlet Witch as she rose above all, invincible, relentless, supreme.

[...]

The environment was in absolute chaos when you opened Wanda's office door. Papers were scattered across the floor, furniture was overturned, and the air carried the sharp tang of ozone and magic that made your hair stand on end. In the middle of it all, Wanda stood motionless, arms crossed, and her face etched with an unfriendly expression.

"What the hell happened here?!" you asked, eyes wide as you took in the wreckage.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, looking more irritated than usual. "None of your business, girl. Just clean it up."

You stopped surveying the mess and shot her an incredulous look. "Clean it? Me? Do you have any idea how bad this room is? It looks like a hurricane came through—or worse, like someone fought here. Alone, it'll take me hours!"

Wanda leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharp. "I don't recall asking for your opinion. Just do it."

You let out a dramatic sigh, placing your hands on your hips. "Fine, but if you want me to clean all this up, maybe you should use those red fireballs you have. It’d make things easier, you know? Instead of just standing there barking orders like a tyrant."

The silence that followed was almost palpable. Wanda remained still, her eyes narrowing slowly as you, apparently fearless, kept your gaze fixed on her. Then something unexpected happened.

Wanda laughed. Not a free or kind laugh, but a low, dangerously sarcastic one. She stepped toward you, her heels echoing on the cluttered floor. Each step felt like a threat, but you stood your ground, even as your heart raced.

"You have a special talent for irritating me, don’t you?" she said, her voice low and controlled, though her eyes glowed with that red hue you were starting to recognize. "And no, those 'red fireballs,' as you call them, aren’t here to make your life easier."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "So what are they for? Boosting your ego? Because honestly, I think it's already big enough."

Wanda gave a crooked smile, stepping so close she was dangerously near. The heat of her presence was almost tangible. "You like testing limits, don’t you? Maybe I should show you what those 'fireballs' can really do."

Your heart raced, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you stepped back, stumbling slightly over some debris.

"Yeah, well, maybe I overstepped a little," you admitted, trying to sound indifferent as your mind screamed that getting out of this room alive would be a miracle.

Wanda tilted her head, as if assessing you. Then, with a quick gesture, she used her magic to lift a pile of papers and organize them neatly on the desk—just to prove she could.

"See?" you said, pointing at the magical movement. "Effortless. You could do this in two minutes. Why are you making me clean?"

Wanda sighed, rolling her eyes almost theatrically. "Because, girl, you need to learn that things in life don’t come for free. And, frankly, watching you complain is one of the few entertaining things in my day."

You huffed, but there was an unexpected warmth in your belly—a confusing mix of frustration and something else you didn’t want to admit. "Entertaining, huh? Great. I’ll clean. But know that I’m going to complain every second."

Wanda gave a slow, dangerous smile. "Do that, and I might add more tasks to your list. Who knows? Maybe I'll even use my 'fireballs'... just not in the way you’d like."

Her tone was a mix of threat and provocation, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to punch her or... something else. Muttering under your breath, you started picking up the wreckage while Wanda settled into her chair, watching you like you were live entertainment.

It was a power game, a dance of provocations and resistance, and deep down, you hated—or maybe loved—that Wanda Maximoff always seemed to have the last word.

You were at your wit's end by the time you finished cleaning the office. Every corner, every piece of paper, every bit of furniture had been meticulously attended to. Sweaty and exhausted, you looked around and let out a satisfied sigh. "Finally."

That’s when Wanda walked back in. She looked completely refreshed, as if she’d just returned from an exclusive spa. The contrast with your disheveled state was ridiculous.

She glanced around, hands on her hips, and made a face. "This is terrible! Do you have any idea how to clean?"

You blinked, incredulous. "Terrible? I spent HOURS cleaning this!"

Wanda merely snapped her fingers, and in the blink of an eye, the office became immaculate. The papers were stacked neatly, the furniture was back in place, and even the air felt fresher.

Your jaw dropped. "You’re telling me you could’ve done that the entire time?!"

Wanda shrugged, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips. "Of course. But where’s the fun in that?"

The blood rushed to your head, and you saw red. "You’re impossible! Arrogant, egotistical, tyrannical—"

Before you could finish your list of insults, you took a step forward, then another. Before you knew it, you were practically nose-to-nose with her, finger pointing like a dagger. Wanda simply raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Oh. The baby’s angry," she teased, tilting her head slightly. "I really do love seeing you like this. It makes my day."

You growled, patience completely gone, and tried to push her, but Wanda was quicker. In a movement almost casual, she grabbed your hair with one hand and held your neck with the other, pulling you close with enough force to make it clear who was in control.

"Just because I find you adorable when you’re angry," she said, her tone low and laced with something almost dangerous, "and I go out of my way to see that little face turn red, doesn’t mean I’ll let you forget who’s in charge here. Got it?"

Your heart raced, but you kept your gaze locked on hers, even as your skin tingled where her fingers touched.

"Got it?" she repeated, tightening her grip on your hair slightly.

You swallowed hard, unsure whether you hated or loved the sensation. "Yes, ma’am," you murmured, your voice slightly shaky.

Wanda’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief moment, and you saw something change in her expression. She was tempted. Tempted to do something she knew she shouldn’t.

Wanda watched you, her gaze fixed on yours as if seeing something that made her burn inside. The fire of anger and determination radiating from you was intoxicating. Every time your voice rose, every insult hurled her way, it drew a slow, dangerous smile to her lips. It wasn’t just the challenge that drew her; it was the raw force of your youth, your conviction.

The witch within her began to whisper. "Look at how she glows, how she resists. She’s like a storm waiting to be tamed. We could shape her, drink her in, consume every drop of that fire. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to feel that running through our veins?"

Wanda tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t. Not when every move you made felt like a veiled invitation. "She provokes me," Wanda thought, the heat rising through her body. "Without even realizing it, she makes me vulnerable. But at the same time… she makes me feel alive."

"Touch her," the voice whispered. "Make her understand the power you hold. Kiss her, taste her. She belongs to us."

In that moment, Wanda reached out firmly, pulling you closer. There was no hesitation, only raw desire that seemed to overpower everything around her. She held you, her gaze burning with a mix of need and fascination.

"You have no idea what you’re provoking," Wanda murmured, but there was something inevitable in the way her voice wavered, as if she were on the verge of surrendering to everything she felt.

But before she could act, a knock at the door echoed through the room.

Wanda released you abruptly, stepping back with an exasperated sigh. "Come in," she said, her tone impatient, though her posture remained composed as if nothing had happened.

You took a step back, discreetly massaging your neck while glancing at the door. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, but no one seemed to notice—except the two of you.

The sound of the door closing behind whoever had entered was just a distant echo in your ears. Your focus was locked on Wanda, on her eyes burning like embers, as if the interruption had only fueled what was about to erupt between you.

The space around you seemed tighter, hotter, as if the very air was conspiring to pull you together again.

The tension wasn’t a thread anymore; it was a blazing cord wrapping around you both, tightening, scorching. There was something destructive in the energy flowing between you, a force threatening to consume anything in its path. Every exchanged glance, every shared breath felt like a step closer to the edge. It wasn’t simple desire, nor just anger—it was a ravenous hunger that wouldn’t settle for halves.

"She’s fire," Wanda thought, but the witch within her laughed, dark and satisfied. "And we are the gasoline."

If you touched again, it would be the end of control, of rationality. It would be the beginning of something deeper, wilder. A kiss wouldn’t be enough; it would only be the first crack in a dam ready to burst. You could feel it, as if every fiber of your being screamed to give in to the chaos, to the heat, to the inevitable.

Wanda averted her gaze for just a moment, as if trying to hold onto a shred of reason, but it was useless. You were there, a pulsing paradox of strength and vulnerability, and she wanted to devour every piece of it. Bites and kisses, skin against skin until the boundaries between you both were reduced to ashes. The thought was so visceral it made the air around her hum with untamed magic.

"We’ll burn together," the witch whispered, like a promise, like a sentence. "And it will be glorious."

And when Wanda’s eyes met yours again, she knew. It didn’t matter how many doors knocked or how many minutes she tried to buy with interruptions. The fire had already begun.

~*~

Call 911! A lesbian is having tachycardia longing for a Wanda like this!!

Tag list <3

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@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[thefandomdirtymind]

Please a OPLA Sanji x fem shyreader magic user? The crew caught them making out ☺️☺️

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hello Anon ! Thank you for your request, I admit it gave me some kind of problem since I'm the exact opposite of shy, but I had fun trying to wonder how it look like and how Sanji would succeed to make himself understand without scaring the reader. I hope you will like it !

The Magic of a Kiss

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering - NSFW The Small Favor - SFW The Mermaid Dream

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

—

From as far as you could remember, you're always been able to make the object around you levited . A power who had created a lot of fun games and yes, a few childish misfits. But, it was your family heritage and you couldn’t be more proud to have inherited it. 

Based in a small village near the water, populated mostly by other magical folks, your family had a small shop you never truly learned to love. Your interest was more in the water and the many ships sailing on it. It's why one day, after a heated argument about your lack of implication in the family business, you decide to leave for the city.  

Shy by nature, you weren't the kind to show off, even if as a magic user, your power would have opened many doors ordinary people couldn’t even dream of reaching. But, after a few disastrous interactions, when even meeting the gaze of the Captain was above your force. You finally meet Luffy and his straw hat crew. 

Their warm approach toward you and your power made you quickly feel more comfortable. But, as they tried to get to know you more, you could stop yourself from feeling nervous to open up and bore them. You usually end up silently smiling,fidgeting your fingers, listening to their fantastique adventure and executing the heavy duty since gravity isn't a problem for you. As the time passes, they all accept your shyness, still including you in their conversation and other activities. 

Sanji was by far your favorite member of the crew, to not say you had a pretty hard crush on him. Things who’s even more complicated the task to answer him as he asks you the simplest question or tries to make you happy by cooking your favorite dishes. Of course, the blond chef would never make fun of your betterave red cheeks and often stutter, but he couldn’t help himself to flirt with you. He never had seen something more cute than your reaction as you enjoy his food and he had to admit that nothing makes him more proud than the way you look at him when you thought nobody saw you. 

It’s why one evening, as you were helping Usopp to repair the mainmast, effortlessly sending him the multiple parts of wood he needed. Sanji took place at your side, lighting a cigarette nonchalantly.

“ It amazes me each time watching you use your talent Madam“ He confessed, watching absently the plank of wood gaining altitude. “ Isn’t it exhausting to keep control of the object ?” 

“ No…I just think of it and…then they float…” You replied, already feeling the tips of your ears warming.You would for nothing share with anyone, the humiliated time it takes you to learn how to push them in the right direction and stop before reaching your face.  

“ Oh, so you have to think at every separated item to make them fly…But what happens if you aren’t in a situation to think, like say overwhelmed ? “ His tone, serious, but clearly flirting. Even if you could feel a trap, you couldn’t think of a single time when you could become so self absorbed that you couldn’t even think. “ Like let's say we kiss, will all the objects of the room start to levitate or just our heart ? “ 

The loud “ BAM “ of the plank slamming against the lower desk makes you jump, you face bright red. Up in the air, Usopp asked what happened, worried that something had occurred to you. It push as well Zoro and Nami out of the own preoccupation, concern if it was a normal noise of a sign of a near danger.With the warrant on Luffy head, your Captain who’s right now was snoring somewhere, they didn’t take any  chance.  

“ Sanji ! Don’t tease me like that…please ! “ You plead, your gaze fixed on the floor, embarrassment clearly making you want to disappear on the floor.  

“ I’m not teasing, I’m truly curious to know…We should try one day” He proposed, a smile playing on his lips as he finished his smoke before heading back to the kitchen “ I make your favorite breakfast tomorrow don’t miss it please”

That conversation spined in your head for at least a few weeks before you accept the meaning of it. Sanji had in his smooth way, confessed his affection for you and waited for you to be ready to do the same. Meantime, he didn’t push you further more, dosing his usual flirt and neither talked about it in front of the others, knowing clearly how you would be mortified. 

Until that day. 

The crew had stopped the ship alongside an island reminding you of pictures of jungle you often saw in exploration books. Each taking a different path to explore the village and his surrendering, you quickly become bored and decide to come back to the ship, certain that you were alone aboard. 

It was why the sound of metal brushing against what seemed to be the same component took you by surprise. Making your way to the kitchen, you discover Sanji, already busy cracking eggs in a bowl. Lifting his head, he smiled as he discarded the empty shell. 

“ Already back ? Are you hungry? I am planning to make an omelet for dinner, but i’m not sure if the other will be back so I will make small ones. “ 

Nodding slowly, watching nervously around you, you decided that if you had to respond to his previous invitation it was now or never. 

“ Sanji I…I...You remember that…you know that conversation...about...my talent and...Kiss…” You succeed to say, your hand sweating against your pants.

“ Yes, I remember” He replied, careful to not scare you away.

“ I would like to try…” You finally quickly confessed, your whole body burning like if you had a fever.

Washing his hand with the rag hanging on his shoulder, Sanji gently smiles contouring the kitchen island to place himself in front of you. Putting delicately your chin between his thumbs and his index, he lowered his head trying to meet your evasive gaze. 

“ I would like to see your pretty eyes Madam before kissing you “ He demanded, as you nervously turned your gaze to meet him. “ Much better” He smiled. 

His lips meet yours with tenderness, as his other hand makes himself a home on your hip. Slowly, you closed your eyes, making yourself melt in the multiples sensation of his soft mouth against yours, followed after a certain time by the teasing of his teeth nibbling your bottom lips. Your tongue quickly follows his invitation, brushing against each other, as you hand find their way to his broad shoulder. 

Inclining your head slightly higher to accommodate your difference of height, you instantly reach again for his lips, not wanting to let him go yet. 

Lost in the moment, you didn’t hear the rest of the crew come back, dinner being an abstract place in time way ahead of the feeling of Sanji against you. 

“ WOAH Y/N you can make people levitate now, that’s so cool ! “ You heard Luffy exclaim as Nami, knowing how embarrassed you should be, tried to drag him out. 

Feeling the floor meet your feet, as the cacophony of gravity regain his control of every none fixed item in the room, you promptly separated yourself of Sanji, who’s for once, was as much blushing as you do. 

“ I guess that means dinner isn't ready, “ Zoro said, unmoved by what he just saw, already taking his place at the table alongside Luffy. 

“ Guys we should maybe go eat somewhere else “ Nami tried, eyeing you hoping that it wouldn't push you to close up yourself more. 

“ No need Nami,  dinner almost ready just, give me just a minute “ Sanji protest regaining his composure before clearing his throat, whispering gently to you “ Now since we know that you make float everything around you and everyone you kiss…please Darling, let me be the only one to fly with you” 

Blushing even more, you couldn't resist laughing in front of the embarrassing but joyful event.

“ I swear “ You promised, already excited for the next time.

[accio-victuuri]

i’m someone who can’t get enough of (fake) stories from the time of cql shoot. so when i see a “story” that i haven’t before ( or maybe i did but forgot about it ), i get excited. lol. even if it’s not a juicy kind of information— i’m cool with it. 🤍 i like this one cause OP seems closer to wyb, it’s more of a short analysis of him & his relationship with XZ during that time.

the usual disclaimer: these are all fake and treat it as fanfiction. obviously, this content is for cpfs. if you don’t like it then scroll along. if you are somehow offended by stuff like this, it’s your problem. feel free to unfollow or block me.

i got the screenshots over here. enjoy!^^

W often catches up on sleep as soon as he gets on the car because he has a lot of engagements. He doesn’t talk much. Last year, he was not in good health. He had a cough and fever and went to get an IV drip at night. Many fans knew about it, so he talked even less in private. Later, I found that he talked a lot on the set. This is a matter of opinion. He needs to refresh himself when he is so tired.

But he does have a good relationship with X. He is not very outgoing, so he should not have many friends, but he is not the kind of person who really looks down on others and does not talk. Many times he does not know what to say (personal feeling hahaha), so he does not start a conversation. Some people are like this, thinking that it may not be meaningful to say it, so they do not say it. He has changed a lot in recent years, and this drama he has successfully made friends with X.

W didn’t communicate much with me. After all, we had never met before, so I could understand the distance. Once, I was discussing tomorrow’s arrangements with the coordinator. He had just finished shooting a scene and passed by me and suddenly asked me if I had a hemostatic patch (this is a consumable item in the crew, and I had just used it up and didn’t bring a new one). I was shocked. I said no, and he didn’t say anything and seemed to go to the bathroom. Later, I don’t know where he asked, but it was a very girly pattern. I feel that he may have asked around, but I didn’t see him use it. That day, I saw a new hemostatic patch on X’s leg, but it wasn’t the one that was used by the transporter?! When I was chatting with the coordinator, I found out that someone had given it to X first, and W saw it and quietly put away the one with the girly pattern. At that time, he had just joined the crew not long ago. Because we were really not familiar with each other, he might have felt that it was too obvious and a bit embarrassing.

W and X have a lot of scenes together. As the main characters, they interact a lot, much more than what is shown. X is not as talkative as the footage shows. On the contrary, he is a person who cares about other people's feelings. In the footage, we can only say that he was: 1. He fainted from the heat (he almost had a heat stroke), 2. He was too tired, and 3. He didn't expect that everyone would exaggerate it. W was the same. He was just joking and making faces, just like everyone would have some such pranks when they were in school. When he felt something was wrong, he quickly changed the subject.

The main reason was that it was really tiring and hot at that time. Every time I went to the scene, I felt that I could get a heat stroke at any time. They also wore long robes with wide sleeves, which was very hard (W didn't dare to eat too much to maintain the fairy feeling of the character) In short, although this matter fermented a lot, it did not have any substantial impact on the relationship between the two. At that time, the crew also knew that this was their childish behavior and was used to it. After all, they were like this all the time. The two are ordinary people who are more casual in private. If they have a good relationship, they will definitely play around, but they will not be fussy about such trivial matters. W's personality is very interesting. He will suddenly act weird and then return to being calm. When he acts weird, he acts seriously. When he is silent, he is serious. I later thought that this kind of personality may have something to do with his love of street dance, motorcycles, and skateboards. Whether it is physical, emotional, endurance, psychological quality or anything else, he wants to try to touch or even challenge the upper limit in all aspects. He is a true adventurer. Most of these people are quite opinionated. He also said that he is a male chauvinist and has a strong desire to control himself and the outside world.

A double-edged sword, not a weakness. Being serious is good, but it is always difficult for people to grasp the precise degree. If you exceed the limit, you will develop a conditioned reflex of vigilance, which will prevent you from revealing too much of yourself, and on the other hand, you will be wary of outsiders' attempts.

This kind of self-defense is actually related to his experience. One is that he left home very early to work hard, and the other is that he went to Korea for training. You must have heard about the trainee system there, which is fiercely competitive and full of intrigues, and it is easy to fail. Many young trainees don’t have much life experience. No matter how cautious they are at the beginning, they may not be able to play better than the older or Korean people. The habit of not offending others for many years has become one of his personality. I am not so familiar with W, so it is difficult to remind him, but I found that he has improved in his relationship with X. It is very subtle. It is generally a good thing. Hahaha. Maybe it is also due to experience. X’s past is relatively simple. He entered the circle a few years after graduating from college. Before entering the circle, it was relatively smooth. It’s not that he has never experienced setbacks and lows, but it is definitely not as shaky and cautious as W faced during adolescence. It directly changed a person. I believe that W is still a positive and enthusiastic person in his heart, but he doesn’t show it easily. He needs someone to guide him.

What I really found strange was one time when the two of them were standing on a downhill slope. The scene was built in a studio and was a bit high. X walked in front of W and slipped. There was a few steps between the two of them. W rushed forward in two steps and quickly grabbed X's waist. They both almost slipped. He intended to grab his arm with his fingers spread out, but he miscalculated and poked X's lower back. We shot that scene in two or three takes and it was passed. After that, W's hand was a little swollen. I found some ice cubes to apply to him and it stopped swelling, but it looked painful. There were still a few scenes that day, but he didn't tell me because he didn't want to delay the progress. He applied ice when he left the camera. Because he had to go to the hospital for an IV drip after work, I thought I would deal with it together.

The strangest thing about this incident was not his behavior, but that X did not see W come down to apply ice, and came over to ask if his hand was okay. W directly stretched out his hand to show him, twisting it vigorously, shaking his fingers flexibly, trying to prove that he was fine, but X grabbed his wrist and looked at it clearly. X said that it was swollen, and W said it was caused by the intravenous drip. X muttered a few words of doubt, and saw that there were indeed many needle holes on the back of W's hand. He believed it a little. I was about four or five meters away at the time.

The director often asked them to be more ambiguous. At the beginning, it was quite awkward because they were not familiar with each other, but it was fine after they got used to it. X made a lot of small moves, and W would shout his name when he couldn't stand it anymore. W was very smart and could find the door. He didn't lose to X at the beginning. It was forbidden to move. It was common for them to insult and fight each other.

Many people are talking about the drinking scene, so I'll share another one. After the day's shooting, W took off his makeup and walked unsteadily. After walking out of the studio, he was looking for something. I said the car was over there (the exit was narrow and the car was a little further away). He said he knew, and then he turned around and pounced behind me, which scared me. I subconsciously turned around and hid, and found that X also came out, but he hadn't taken off his makeup yet. W stuck to him like an octopus. X was also scared, and his wig was pulled by W, and X screamed in pain. His assistant came out the next second and quickly pulled W away. I reacted and supported W. X was not angry, and told me that W had secretly drunk some more later and might be really drunk, so he asked me to make some honey water for him to sober up. I said okay, thinking where would I find honey water in the middle of the night. W is very thin, but very strong. X's assistant couldn't pull him away completely.

I am a little anxious, but I can’t say anything, I can only worry.

X was in a good mood, and cheerfully patted him and said, "Isn't W laoshi known for not getting drunk even if he drinks a lot?"

W didn't refute, and hugged him so tightly that I felt X was about to suffocate, and then X said: "It's late, see you tomorrow." W let go as if he had suddenly lost his temper, reluctant to let go, wanting to look at X but not daring to. I don't know why, but I felt that he was a little sad.

X joked with him: "Go back after you graduate from kindergarten.

W said sullenly: "I will definitely beat you next time."

X changed his tone of voice and complained: "W wants laoshi to win everything. save me from losing a few times, okay?"

I went back to the hotel and asked X's assistant who the winner was. She said that the two of them competed to see who could talk in the other's ear without blushing, and the loser would drink a small sip. I was speechless. No wonder he rarely played mobile games last night, and went to sleep after chatting on WeChat (he got off work earlier yesterday). It turned out that he was saving his energy to play this today (wrong). I asked again, "No one took the photo (mainly referring to the fans who were waiting there.)" She said that it should not be possible, because the place where the two people were standing was difficult to take a photo.

-END.

[worriedvision]

Being a single parent - Al-Haitham

Gender neutral reader, reader and Al-haitham have a child together. Angst here, no deaths but a breakup is here. Reader is a medical doctor, and works from home (basically the patients go to their home).

--

When you had your baby with Al-Haitham, you had been pleasantly surprised by the fact your boyfriend was becoming more approachable - well, at least towards you and your child. At the start of the life of having a child, Al-Haitham was cherishing it. The moments he had time to be with you and your child, when it wasn't too busy at work.

Inevitably, however, an emergency had breached the peacefulness. He had to get back to work, and you were struggling to get your patients seen to at once while keeping an eye on your child. When your boyfriend is home, he's not as attentive - turning his earpiece on so he couldn't hear your baby screaming and the complaints of your patients not exercising any patience. When you call out asking for him to please keep an eye on your child while you see patients, he pretends he didn't hear you while he continues to read. The first time he did this, you thought he simply had a horrible day at work, but unfortunately this was your norm now.

Truth be told, it somehow felt like he was more difficult to look after than your child. He would roll his eyes when you ask him if he can look after your child more often while you arrange time slots for patients, saying his job is more important than yours before walking out of the door. It felt like you were intruding in his space, and your child was upset to sense this as well. You note how your child stops cooing when the door opens, almost as if the child knew your boyfriend didn't want to hear a pin drop once he got home.

It got to the point that you had to move out, leaving him. He doesn't even bat an eye, holding out his hand for your copy of his keys, before returning to his book reading. Thankfully, you had your bags packed - and Tighnari was more than happy to help you carry your bags to Gandarva ville.

You continue your work as a stay-at-home doctor, and it was going well - your child was more like it's usual self, now as vocal as you'd expect a child to be. Your patients were more than happy for your child to be in the same room, understanding you were now operating as a single parent. Tighnari was kind enough to offer you one of the spare rooms, under the condition that he would eventually begin to get rent from you.

It was going well, until someone found out about your childs father.

--

Al-Haitham had a few enemies, some people that wanted something only he could offer. Nothing he had was going to be given out with a 'pretty please', and he wasn't going to personally gain from these people. Kaveh had moved back in, struggling to live by himself, and Al-Haitham thought he would just be the usual roommate he was.

"How's the baby?" Kaveh asks, Al-Haitham shrugging. "...I was told by-"

"My family business is none of yours." He curtly replies, hearing a knock on the door before going to answer it. To his confusion, there's nobody there.

The person who had knocked wanted mora from Al-Haitham, knowing he had plenty of it, and they were not too kind to stay away from those who he may cherish. When they hear about Al-Haitham having a baby, they decide to eavesdrop on any conversation that mentions this. Through this, they discover who you are and the fact you operate from the same place you live. A sinister smirk on their face, they decide to look for you.

--

Your first interaction with this individual was none out of the ordinary. A typical patient, someone who happened to be especially prone to falling over. Carrying out your usual tests, you note their sight flickering over to your baby before darkening for a moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I have to keep an eye on my little gremlin. I can take them away if it bothers you." You rub the back of your neck, the patient shaking their head and smiling.

"It's nothing - your child was silent."

They leave after paying for their appointment, and you can't shake off the feeling they are after your baby. Picking up your baby, you head over to Tighnari before explaining the situation. He nods in understanding, gesturing for you to come into his house as Cyno just so happens to be there.

--

Al-Haitham lands up getting contacted regarding the suspicious individual. He rolls his eyes when he's being informed that this mora-grabbing person he had several conversations with was making more empty threats until Cyno stomps on his foot.

"They targeted your child and your ex." Cyno cuts through, Alhaitham processing the news. "Do a favour for me, next time look around before you discuss your child so openly."

"I haven't spoken about the child." Alhaitham refutes.

"What a catch you are, Alhaitham." Kavehs huffs from his room. "Your poor ex deserves a better father than you."

"Well, they moved out on their own accord." Alhaitham bickers back. "I don't have time to-"

"You impregnated _, so sorry but you really should." Kavehs growls.

"...How is _?" Alhaitham asks

"They're safe." Cyno replies. "Stay out of their life. You've done enough as is."

--

[awkward-walking-potato]

hi i saw you were open for gambit requests! maybe a gender-neutral reader who is insecure about their appearance and doesnt expect people to be nice to them, only for Gambit to fall head-over-heels immediately upon seeing them and try to rizz them up, much to reader's surprise

Extraordinarily ordinary

The X-Mansion was as lively as ever, with the team gathering in the common room after a long day of missions and training. You had joined them recently, still adjusting to the new environment and feeling somewhat out of place. You had always been a bit insecure about your appearance, not used to being the center of attention and struggling to believe that anyone would notice you, let alone show any interest.

You kept to the edges of the room, observing the interactions and trying to blend in. You were used to being overlooked, to feeling like you didn’t quite fit in with the crowd. So when Remy LeBeau, one of the most charming and confident members of the team, walked in, you didn’t think much of it. You admired him from afar, but you never imagined he’d take any notice of you.

Remy was the picture of effortless charisma. He greeted everyone with that trademark smile of his, his presence immediately commanding attention. When his eyes landed on you, however, there was a spark of something different—something that caught him off guard. He paused, his gaze lingering as if he had just discovered something truly fascinating.

For a moment, you felt self-conscious under his scrutiny, but before you could retreat further into the background, Remy made his way over to you with a confidence that bordered on magnetic.

“Evenin’, chérie,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I gotta say, I’ve been lookin’ for a reason to come over here, and it looks like the universe has finally delivered.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden approach and the directness of his compliment. “Um, hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect you to... notice me.”

Remy’s smile widened, and he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Notice you? How could I not? You’ve got this quiet, unique charm that just draws a person in. Plus, it’s rare to see someone so genuine amidst all the chaos.”

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. You had never been one to attract attention, especially not from someone as striking as Remy. “I’m just... trying to fit in, really.”

Remy’s expression softened, and he reached out, gently touching your arm. “Well, you’re doin’ more than just fit in. You’re standin’ out, and that’s somethin’ special. How about we get to know each other a little better?”

His touch was warm and reassuring, making you feel a mix of surprise and intrigue. You hadn’t expected anyone, let alone someone like Remy, to show such genuine interest. “I don’t usually get this kind of attention,” you admitted, trying to keep your composure.

“Then let me be the first to change that,” Remy said, his tone light and flirtatious. “I’ve got a knack for findin’ the extraordinary in the ordinary, and you’re lookin’ pretty extraordinary to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a bit nervous but genuine. “You’re not really what I expected.”

Remy’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, that’s a good thing, ain’t it? I’m full of surprises, and I’ve got a feelin’ you are too.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself opening up more, his effortless charm and kind words easing your nerves. Remy’s attention was unwavering, his compliments sincere, and his interest genuine. It was clear that he was head-over-heels for you, despite your own doubts and insecurities.

By the end of the evening, you felt a newfound sense of confidence, thanks to Remy’s unexpected and heartfelt approach. As you both said your goodbyes, he took your hand gently, his touch lingering just a moment longer.

“If you ever need someone to remind you how special you are,” he said softly, “I’m your guy.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with your usual insecurities. “Thank you, Remy. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone like you.”

Remy’s grin was infectious. “Well, looks like fate decided to surprise us both.”

As you walked away, you felt a new sense of possibility, knowing that someone as charming and sincere as Remy saw something in you that you had trouble seeing in yourself. And for the first time, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were worth noticing after all.

[st4rhwa]

𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗧 k. hj

김홍중 | playboy!kim hongjoong x afab!reader smut, light angst, fluff

synopsis: much like recycled stardust, no matter how far you drift from hongjoong, you'll always find your way back into his arms.

cw: university!au, deliberate lower case, smut, angst, fluffy ending, reader has feminine attributes, ex boyfie joong, push-and-pull kind of relationship, it's not toxicity i promise, hongjoong's a little bit ooc, brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, making out, pet names (baby, princess, joong(ie)), empty threats

wc: 5.7k

𝗮/𝗻: first tumblr fic ! this might be kind of messy ?? i'm still in the learning process of everything lol inspired by: i'm yours (isabel larosa)

sw: unprotected sex, switch!joong, switch! reader, desperate make up sex/kind of hate sex?, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, i really did try to start this blog off with a soft fic but i couldn't help myself

"-you'll come, right?"

just a normal interaction, is what you kept telling yourself. it's nothing special, nowhere near the sort. just a conversation. nothing out of the ordinary.

that's what it would have been if kim hongjoong, your ex boyfriend, hadn't been the one to stop you in the middle of the road to convince you it'd be a good idea to attend his party next saturday. because i mean come on. sex? alcohol? ket? shrooms? please. that's child's play.

but how he's so relaxed around you cognisant of the long history the two of you share, you'll never know.

"i would but.." your witless muttering isn't doing anything for you other than digging your grave. his keen gaze makes your palms sweat; is it the comical height difference or the general attention he seems to be adamant to give you?

"come on," he whines. "i could convince anyone else in the world other than you to go. why do you always make it so difficult?" "not my thing," you should know that, is what you would have liked to add. "sorry." making tracks however, obviously wasn't justifiable in his books. immediately reaching for your wrist, you don't make it much further than two steps before he locks you back in his gaze.

"come on, y/n," "i don't-" "please? i'd really like you to be there." your eyes snap up to his, and the way he looks at you so enticingly makes you want to crawl up into a ball and die.

you hate the fact that he has you in the palm of his hand. especially because he knows it too.

"my ass." you mumble, shoving past another group of people. you're sweating, trying to weave yourself through the crowds of intoxicated young adults mingling, drinking and swaying to the music. you hate it. you hate it so much it's unbearable.

your friends squeeze you into a mini dress and cake you in makeup, just to leave you five minutes into the party to fuck some junkie they'll never talk to ever again. and kim hongjoong? he's nowhere to be found.

your entire being reverberates in time with the heavy bass line of whatever fusion afro beats were playing in the living room. in times like these, the kitchen becomes your safe haven; surrounded by countless bottles of alcohol for you to mix and match as you wish, only seeing the occasional person enter who'd greet you and refill their cup.

you wince when you begin to find the music has become much more bass accelerated, and you decide you need a breather. you would have guessed hongjoong would have retreated upstairs with a girl by now. you guess wrong, however, when your eyes briefly meet his in the midst of the sea of bodies.

his eyes are wide, puppy like, vivid colours reflecting in his pupils. he looks at you expectantly, ignoring the people trying to catch his recognition left and right. he opens his mouth, as if about to say something, before a girl tugs on his arm, sidetracking his attention again.

you keep your head low, shaking it as you run a hand through your hair. you make it through the living room, the foyer through to the dining room, and make a quick move to lock yourself in the bathroom noticing it's vacancy.

the door acts as a soundproof wall, concealing you from all the commotion, the chaos. what was the point of showing up anyway? you had false hope - nothing was going to happen between the two of you even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged.

in truth, kim hongjoong is a coward. it doesn't matter how hard he tries to deny it, it's simply his thing. he makes a move, poised and mighty. but once the conviction begins to fade he shrivels into nothing more than a drop in the ocean, and hides his uneasiness by picking up another side chick. one moment he loves you, the next, he doesn't.

you shake your head, hands resting on either side of the sink. your heart is racing rapidly, and you feel pathetic. you feel pathetic because you know that your cheeks are red because of him. your palpitating heart is because of him. your thighs pressing together is all because of him.

you hate him, is what you keep telling yourself. you hate him and his reckless actions, his arrogance, his popularity, his likeability, his devilish smile, his handsome face, his perfect body- fuck. that's not it. you don't hate him. you hate how much you love him, how deeply you fell for his charms.

your index finger drags along your aegyo sal, wiping away smudged mascara and eyeliner. your eyes settle in the mirror dragging over your worn expression, and you sigh. it'd probably be best if you left before it got too late.

you jump slightly when there are a few desperate bangs at the door. "c'mon! gotta fuckin' piss-" you snatch your phone from the shelf, frantically unlocking the door and pushing it open, running off before you could face any confrontation.

maybe you were just a coward too.

you immediately approach the adjacent door which leads to the garden. reaching for the handle, you swing it open and slam it closed behind you before anyone else could follow. your back rests against the cool glass, and you exhale softly, finally being able to find some peace and quiet in the midst of the clamour.

you catch your breath, pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening it to call an uber.

"i was almost convinced you weren't gonna show."

your eyes clamp shut. make it a nightmare. make it some sort of weird twisted dream. maybe someone spiked your drink - perhaps you were just hallucinating.

you blink once, twice, before hongjoong's index finger catches your chin. "hey. look at me." you can barely pick out his features, the dim lights emitting from the inside of his dining room just barely illuminating his cheekbones. "stop-.. running, from me.." he sighs out at the sight of your uncomfortable facial expression, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. he continues, before you can stop to think, "i try to talk to you, we give it a go, you regret ever giving it a go and run off, and this whole cycle repeats itself." his hands drift to your shoulders, down your sides before finding welfare on your hips. "and i don't think that's fair.."

his soft and rich tone makes your shoulders relax, and your head leans back, gently bumping against the door. "talk to me." you pull yourself together and shake your head, pushing him off you. "you talk like it's just me doing all the running. that's pretty ballsy coming from you," the way he looks at you tells you he knows that. better than anyone else. "and why does it matter anyway. go back inside, it's your party. bet your side chick's already waiting for you."

to your dismay, his hands reach for you again. he ignores your snarky comments, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, forehead bumping against yours. his eyes are large; doe-like. they're nothing short of innocent, but you're not blind to the small flames kindling within his pupils.

"i want to know why you're ignoring me. why you've stopped loving me so abruptly." his eyes fall shut and his eyelashes tickle your forehead. "otherwise i might have to make you tell me.." he tilts his head ever so slightly, soft, pillowy lips brushing against yours. "hongjoong.." your voice only comes out in the form of a whisper, and it makes hongjoong nod softly. "shh baby.. i've got you, it's okay."

"i don't-" "what happened, y/n? just abruptly telling me you're breaking up with me and then avoiding me for weeks on end isn't you. you're better than this!" "you're not right for me, hongjoong!" shit. that came out wrong. like that, the flames in his pupils douse. hongjoong's shoulders droop and his hands fall, but his eyes stay glued to yours. "no," you shake your head, rephrasing. "i'm not right for you."

"what makes- what makes you say that?" "listen to me closely, hongjoong." he wished you'd use his name in a brighter light. "i'm not right for you." "you're repeating the same shit but you're not telling me what it fucking means!" he rips away from you, a hand tugging through his hair. "what the fuck happened?! i thought we were doing well i-, i made sure you knew i loved you and i tried to make time for you-" "that's my problem! you're too busy- you've got no time for me! you've got dance, singing, producing, all these fucking parties! where does that leave me? does it make me love you any less? no! but i can't afford to be neglected by you!"

hongjoong's mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to wrack his brain for something- anything! but deep down he knows you're right. he's busy, he can barely catch a break. and then off he goes throwing parties when he should be spending time with you. but somehow, 90% of what you say goes through one ear and out the other-

"you still, love.. me?" you scoff. "of course i do. but i just.. think it's better if you move on an-" "why do i have to move on when i haven't lost anything?" a smile grows on his face, and he grips your wrists excitedly. "i- i thought you hated me! and-" "are you not grasping anything i'm saying right now!" you yell over his excited yapping. "i'm saying!-" he quiets down to a soft pause. "-..you need to find someone who suits your needs better."

you barely register his sudden movements as he bursts forward, taking your cheeks in his hands as he slams his lips against yours. his eyes roll back as he sighs into your mouth. god how he's missed the feeling. he presses his body flush against yours, revelling in the feeling of, well, you. your addictive lips, your sleek hair, your compelling curves, he basks in you.

you try to break away, but your body seems to have other plans, arching into him. "hongjoong-" it's not longer than a second before he once again encapsulates your lips with his. you try to make out a sentence between desperate kisses. "we- .. we- shouldn't-" his front teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls you nice and tight against him, just the way you like it.

you would have made more of an effort to flee if it didn't feel so fucking good. his hands never cease to wander your body like it's an uncharted island in the pacific ocean. if they're not massaging your waist, they're sliding up and down your exposed back. if they're not sliding up and down your exposed back, they're groping your ass. he just can't get enough of you- of how intoxicating you are.

"hongjoong for fucks sak-" "shh." he smirks softly against your lips. he knows that bit by bit, little by little, you're giving in to him. or more, the idea of him. you melt into his hold, whining a little at an attempt to show your frustration. but he just coos mockingly, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. your right leg naturally hikes up against his hip, and he holds it in place with his vacant hand. "so good for me," his lips part and he kisses your nose. "such a good girl."

you can't believe this is happening. you're internally sour, trying to search for any reason left in this bottomless pit of lust you're drowning in. you can feel it rising inside of you, and it'll swallow you up eventually.

you don't think you've ever wanted him so bad. in fact, you don't think you've ever wanted anyone as badly as you do right now. you have to have him. otherwise it might just eat you alive.

"do you want-.." he's breathless, making sure your eyes never leave his. he's stuttering over his words, suddenly finding himself shrink under your gaze; it almost makes you smile. "uh- no pressure, by the way i-" your finger gently drags along the surface of his lip, deep red nail getting caught in the dip between them. you whisper softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "let's go."

sneaking away could have definitely been easier if hongjoong didn't always blatantly stick out like a neon highlighter in a tub of black markers. man of the hour or not, he can't help being stopped and pinched into conversations left and right and your patience is thinning. "hongjoong.." you mumble, and he nods profusely towards you in apology, excusing himself to his mates and bidding them a good night.

"aye! hongjoong, over here!" "hey guys!-" you pinch his elbow, pressing your lips to his ear. "go over to one more person and you'll get it." he feels himself twitch in his pants, but he just rolls his eyes and smiles at you with a satirising tone. "c'mon babe!~ it's 3RACHA! i can't just ignore 3RACHA!" he tries to shake away the thoughts nagging him to turn back in his head, releasing his arm from your wrist and jogging towards them. so much for not neglecting me. your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, and you swing back around, making a beeline for the stairwell.

you're aware of hongjoong's strict rule of the second floor being prohibited during parties, but regardless of it you sneak past the numerous couples humping one another in the hallway, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom.

you exhale softly with your forehead pressed to the door, hand resting on the golden handle. you shouldn't be this nervous. it's only been a few months, you used to spend more time here than you did in your own apartment. but once you step into the room and shut the door, the overwhelming scent of him leaves you dumbfounded. your shaky hand drifts to the handle in a moment of diffidence, but you shake your head, and do nothing more than wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your dress.

you kick off your heels, feet dragging along the the off-grey carpet flooring as you trail over to his king sized bed. the satin sheets are cold against your lower thighs, and your hands gently grip the lush material. your eyes drift over his walls as you slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress: his desk, his wardrobe, nothing had changed. however, what does catch your eye is a bottle of your signature perfume on his shelf, nearing its last millilitres.

you have your suspicions, bringing his pillow up to your nose. you sigh softly at the faint smell of your perfume lingering all over it. you haven't used that brand since you were last here all those months ago. you shimmy off the rest of your dress leaving you in your red lace lingerie, and you stride over to the shelf and pick up the small glass bottle. you flick the cap off with your thumb, and spritz the scented spray all over your body and the sheets.

laying back into the duvet, you feel your core throb with wanting and need as the aged memories invade your mind. your hands wander, just like his. they trace your curves the way he would, almost like it's muscle memory. "mh, joong.." you whisper to yourself as your back arches off of the mattress, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side.

your hands fondle your breasts, and you let out the softest moan as your thumbs brush over your perky nipples. "hongjoong.." you whine the tiniest bit louder, hands hooking into your underwear and sliding them down your spread legs. sighing, your index and middle finger slip themselves between your folds, pushing them apart and lathering your wetness all over the digits. they slowly trace around your clit as you snatch your phone from the bedside table.

you would have never thought you'd be doing this again, but you open his archived chat left inactive for 5 months and click the camera in the bottom left corner. this was risky, and you'd be most likely to regret it. but nonetheless you begin recording, and whine softly into the phone. you feign innocence, pinching your clit softly between your fingers before you insert them both inside you. you gasp as you release an over exaggerated moan before hitting the send button.

you wait with a satisfied look on your face, watching one tick turn into two, from grey to blue. at that, your phone is forgotten, and your eyes flutter closed as you give your undivided attention to yourself.

hongjoong is becoming desperate. having to act like he didn't almost cream his pants at the sight of your wet pussy through his phone screen was tougher than he had originally imagined. he tucks his phone into his back pocket, trying to subtly adjust the baggy jeans hanging on his hips. while jisung and changbin eagerly talk to him, his eyes daintily drift to the side, catching seonghwa's gaze from the pool table.

seonghwa tilts his head, and hongjoong pats the side of his leg before tucking his index, middle and ring finger into his palm to form a phone sign. he holds it for two seconds before focusing back on the conversation he's having.

he thanks seonghwa indebtedly when it doesn't take much more than a blink of an eye before his phone vibrates in his back pocket. "sorry, i have to take this," he's apologetic, gesturing towards his phone. "have a good night guys!" he gives seonghwa a pat on the shoulder as he passes by, and seonghwa returns the gesture with a wink.

he can't resist himself as he walks through the hallway, opening the video again and feeling his cock throb violently in the confines of his jeans. he practically sprints up the stairs when you send another text: "you better hurry up or i'm leaving." it was a lie, obviously. hongjoong knew it too. but that didn't stop him from becoming overly eager.

he bursts through the door, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at the sight of three fingers plunging in and out of your pussy, presented proudly out in the open for only his eyes to see, the erotic squelching sounds become apparent when he closes the door: "what took you so long," you sigh out accompanied by a breathy moan. "i'm sorry baby." he mumbles, already reaching for his belt as he kneels at the bed, unbuckling it and tossing it to the side.

"you should be," you pull your fingers out, using your clean hand to pull him into a sloppy, open mouthed, all teeth and saliva, kiss. "i'm expecting compensations." he pulls back with a grin, tugging his black tank top over his head. "of course, princess."

his knees straddle your hips, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. with his jeans already hanging so low on his hips, your feet make a move to slide them off to his ankles, he finishes the job off, discarding them on the floor. the beautiful, overbearing scent of your perfume makes him shiver, and he grips the sheets on either side of you, striving ever so hard as not to completely lose control of himself. he wants to take this slowly with you, enjoy the moment of finally having you back in his arms again.

or at least that's what he would have liked, but it seems you had other plans. "so, you gonna fuck me or what?" you exhale, arching up into him when his lips find your pebbled nipple, suckling gently as his hand gropes your unattended tit. he supposes he could wait to take it slow another time.

"patience," he grins, drifting down to your pelvis, deciding this is where he wanted to leave his mark. "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he nips, sucks, kisses, littering red, lip sized marks all over your pubic bone, making sure they would last at least a few days. your hand reaches down to grip his gelled back hair, and he groans softly as you tug on the strands. your legs spread as he makes himself comfortable between them, and he swears he almost cums in his boxers when your ankle moves to the back of his head, violently shoving him into your wet pussy.

he moans out, arms wrapping around your thighs as his lips make contact with your clit. you taste better than he ever remembers. sweet yet salty, flavourful, delicious. "mmh, that's good.." you whisper softly, and the praise makes hongjoong ever the more motivated to pleasure you. "am i good for you baby?" you grin and nod softly. "so good." he smirks and coats his index and middle finger in your slick before pushing them into your already stretched out hole.

and you know the second that his fingers, longer than yours, push and curl into you combined with his tongue lapping away at your clit, that you won't last long. more of your slick drips out and onto hongjoong's hand; you can't remember the last time you were so desperate. "missed you so much baby." he whines out, unable to resist rolling his hips once, twice, into the mattress, trying to alleviate the aching in his boxers. "so- so good hongjoong- shit," you stutter out in between gasps and whines, feeling that familiar pit in your pelvis when his fingers drill themselves against your g-spot.

the long suck to your nub that follows straight after is what throws you over the edge. you're just tinkering on the edge of an orgasm, and you know it when your legs begin to shake. "hongjoong! hongjoong- please! oh god- oh fuck i'm cumming," you thrash around, legs wrapping themselves around his head and suffocating him in your pussy.

hongjoong feels his hard cock positively twitch and leak like a broken faucet as translucent, salty liquid leaks out of you and onto his stuck out tongue. he hums appreciatively, chest puffing up with pride when he realises he made you cum with just his fingers and tongue. faster than ever before, too. he makes the lewdest slurping sounds with his tongue, drinking you up as if he were a feral, famished man. at this point, he might as well be one.

"good?" he asks with a toothy smile, his sharp canines peaking out through his swollen lips. "so good. so good for me, joongie.." you whisper to him, running a hand through his hair before tightening it, curling and tugging him towards you. his lips meet yours in a kiss much gentler than any of the ones exchanged earlier, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. your hands reach down to feel around the wet patch of his pre-cum on the front of his boxers, and you make a fast move to tug them down his legs, tossing them to the side before pulling him into your arms. "think you deserve a reward, baby?"

he nods so eagerly, you swear you see a tail wagging behind him as he hums keenly. "yeah?" you croon, enjoying watching him become desperate to please you and himself too. he doesn't even make an effort to hide how eager he is to slip into you and fall into a deep abyss of euphoria, brain filled with nothing other than praise and pleasure - and maybe a little white noise too. "what does my baby want?"

"to cum.." he mumbles, leaning down to nibble at your neck while his cold fingers drift down to where he had left his bruises on you, tracing them lovingly. it was almost primal, to him. to see you marked up. it reminded him that you truly did belong to him. "wan' make you cum too- wanna cum inside.." he twitches when your hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock. "i'm so fuckin' hard.. i wanna fuck you so fuckin' bad, baby." he begs breathlessly, thrusting up into your hand for more friction.

"you're so lucky i love you," you mutter under your breath, and his breath hitches as his dick simultaneously twitches in response. his stomach erupts into butterflies, but he tries to suppress the mushy feelings for the post-orgasm conversation he knows he'll end up having with you whether you like it or not.

"you really are just leaking aren't you? so messy." you tease, thumb swiping over his slit and he curls into you with a hiss, eyes falling shut. "sensitive today, are we?" you mumble, twisting your fist around his cock head again to draw another reaction from him. "been hard all day," he admits, head falling into the crook of your neck. "wanted to wait so i could fuck you." you shake your head with a chuckle. "so bold to automatically assume i'd let you fuck me."

hongjoong honestly believes he sees the gates of the afterlife appear in front of him when he finally feels your wet heat press against his cock. you drag your folds up and down the base of him, using a mixture of your cum, slick and his leftover saliva to lubricate him. "w-well i'm here now, aren't- aren't i?" you sigh, guiding his tip to your sopping hole. "eh, i guess so." your palms rest against his back when you slam his hips down onto you in one harsh movement. hongjoong's breath is knocked out of him at the unexpected movement, and his fingers grip your hips as he whines loud. "oh fuck-!"

you've missed him so badly. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart, you have him fully. you hum, head dropping back into the satin pillows. "that's it.. i've missed you, joong. missed this big cock so much." you don't think your cunt could ever get used to the delicious stretch his cock provides you with, with or without fingers beforehand. he just reaches that particular spot inside you that nobody else ever could, and it drives you absolutely mad with adoration.

but what snaps you out of your bliss is that you realise hongjoong has no plans of moving. his head just stays dipped into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist so hard the skin will positively bruise, panting hard. "hello?" you mumble, poking the side of his head. he grumbles out something unintelligible, and it makes you sigh, propping yourself up onto your elbows. "this pussy's not gonna fuck itself, is it?" your question is more rhetorical, but it makes hongjoong wince. "c-can't." his voice is strained, and you have an idea of why, yet you still choose to prod further. "what do you mean, 'you can't'?"

"feels too good.." he whispers, and you grin. admittedly, hongjoong is indeed, a very busy man. jobs, producing, lectures, dance classes, clubs, parties, he's everywhere doing everything all at once. but the most critical aspect of it all, was that he was loyal to you. he hadn't kissed, touched, or fucked a single other person since he last had you, holding onto that small slither of hope that he could win you back when the time was right.

that, however, now leaves him in a sticky - no pun intended - situation where he knows that if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll drain his balls within minutes of fucking you. "oh? poor baby.." you feign innocence, just for a few seconds before your legs wrap around his hips, beginning to grind up onto him in search of your own friction. "that's too bad."

hongjoong yelps, trying to ground himself by fisting his duvet into a death grip, little whimpers making it past his sealed lips. your hands take a hold of his hips, aiding you in your movements. "you gonna help me now, or what?" you grit out, and all he can do is shake his head frantically, bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "i- i'll cum baby- i can't!-" "so what? cum or not, we're not stopping until i do." he exhales shakily.

"so are you gonna be a good? or will i have to go find someone else who can fuck me right?" hongjoong grits his teeth, shaking his head and putting all of his body weight on you until you come to a stop, he experiments, thrusting up once, twice, before mumbling a soft: "okay.". you rub his back gently, whispering in return: "come on.."

the sudden snap of his hips catches you off guard. you squeak, hands frantically reaching for his biceps to ground yourself. "shit! th- that's it hongjoong! ngh-" he nods frantically, yanking your knees up to your chest to thrust even deeper. he groans, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to focus on how gorgeous you look beneath him, or how slick the sounds between you are, or how good your pussy feels, or how badly he wants to fucking cum.

he sets a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass with every deep, meaningful thrust into you. "atta boy.. ohh baby i-" you gasp out, feeling the pad of hongjoong's thumb press down on your clit, rubbing up and down in synchronisation with his thrusts.

he pants hard and desperately it's almost concerning, lips parted and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck. you arch up into him, breasts pressing flush against his bare chest. your rhythmic clenching, the borderline salacious amount of wetness inside of you, the raking of your nails on his back, it's almost too much for him.

the longer he pursues you, the more he realises that he in fact, cannot wait, and will cum. he had tried not to too early, truly! but he had been close the second he walked into the damn room, and the amount of different versatile sensations he has no choice but to feel drive him over the edge. "baby- i can't- i can't i-" your legs wrap themselves around his hips, locking him in. "it's okay baby. go on. cum for me. fill me up."

with that, he's gone. you don't think you've ever seen him behave this way in the years you've known him. "oh godd yes- yes yes yes-" he's lewd, and he puts professional pornography to shame. the way he presents himself is obscene, head thrown back, eyes rolled into them. a staggered groan escapes him as he comes undone, his seed flowing inside of you as he gently rocks his hips, knuckles whiter than white with the pressure he's putting on the pillows either side of your head. you guide him through his orgasm, petting his hair softly.

his back glistens with beads of sweat among the moles and freckles dotted along his shoulder blades, and they flex as his arms slowly yet surely move to wrap around your torso. he exhales, nuzzling into you as he catches his forfeited breaths back.

you supposed that if he were unable to continue, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. it was even between the two of you now, and you were both correspondingly satisfied. you reach down and grip the base of him that isn't enveloped inside of you, and can't even begin to attempt to suppress the grin on your face when you realise he's still hard. "not satisfied yet, are you?"

he's about to defend himself, promise you he's not as filthy as he presents himself to be. but there's no need for it, seeing as you give him no time to rest before you climb on top of him, and start rocking your hips. and honest to god, hongjoong has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

he's being used like a toy, and he loves it. but at the same time he isn't sure if you want him to help you or if he should take it, so many thoughts rushing through his mind but in reality he's just trying to stall so he doesn't cum again. he's a ragdoll in your arms, the pleasure he had been feeling a few seconds ago returning in an instant with a new found sensitivity, your pussy even wetter with his cum. he ever so desperately wanted to take back the dominance between the two of you, he knew he could do it. but the most he could do to even voice a reaction was curse loudly, cry out and throw his head back.

he takes it back. completely. there was no way he could do anything other than accept it without any objections. it was everything he had ever wanted and more, there was nothing going on in his mind other than perpetual euphoria.

"fuck i'm close," you whisper, cursing in approval when hongjoong's index and middle finger work at your clit in time with your bounces. "c-cum for me? cum for me baby?" hongjoong's eyes brim with tears, a mix of sentimentality and overstimulation. you nod frantically, finally letting the knot in your gut come loose, letting out a wail as your orgasm washes over you.

he whines softly at the feeling of you gushing around him, and he cums a second time. he fills you up again with a groan through gritted teeth, in smaller spurts with less amount than the first. you pant, falling limp on top of him with a grunt. "that was good," you hum, hand moving to trace his collarbone.

hongjoong's arms come to encircle around your waist, pressing you close to his chest as he begins to soften inside of you, making no move to pull out. he kisses your temple, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, caressing your dishevelled head of hair. hongjoong has never felt such relief as he does holding you, your body feeling just right with his, and he can't help but think to himself..

"i love you." he blurts out. the confession is rushed, panicked and hesitant. you feel his body tense up the moment he registers he's said it, but you just smile against his chest, poking him in the rib. "you're okay i guess." not getting the answer he wants, he groans. "princess.." his tone is whiny, and you giggle, sitting up to plant a passionate kiss to his lips.

"i'm joking, joong. i love you too."

© st4rcig4r 2024 i do not give permission for my writing to be copied, translated or posted anywhere but tumblr.

[bvidzsoo]

Slow it down

⊂Biker!Seonghwa⊃

TW: nothing

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: A short drabble while I'm away on vacation, because for some reason biker Hwa's been occupying my mind lately, not letting me rest. I can't wait to continue my pirate!au mini-series with Ateez, I miss writing it so much lol. Being at the sea is definitely not helping at all at suppressing my creativity lol. Hope you enjoy this one!

You couldn’t tell when it started, your infatuation with Seonghwa. Infatuation, perhaps, was a strong word, but you didn’t know how else to define it at the moment; maybe crush would’ve been a more fitting term, you thought, but you weren’t too sure about it. Park Seonghwa. You had known him for years, although never truly paying much attention to him, he still managed to become the center of your friends conversations, stealing the spotlight at any given chance without even being around. Seonghwa was quite famous at your school, and in your town, let’s be real, for constantly doing bad things and breaking girl’s hearts left and right. He was your typical bad boy and you wanted nothing to do with him. He was edgy and sometimes quite dramatic; he dressed in all black and wore quite cheap looking jewelry, painting his nails black after he realized girls went crazy for it. He knew he was good looking and he used that to his advantage. He could persuade anyone into doing whatever he wanted and it came in quite handy when he was behind on his schoolwork, his teachers excusing him for whatever dumb story he managed to come up with. Girls ate up his sob stories about his fake pets and evil parents; he came from a very loving family, so you never understood why he was lying about it. And, oh God, when he got his license for his motorbike did his popularity skyrocket even more. You were pretty sure you caught him once making out with one of the teaching assistant’s behind the school, but one side glance from his sharp eyes and you knew never to mention it to anyone. And to be honest, that was probably your first and last interaction with the boy, not that it bothered you. You liked your peaceful life as it was, serene, and void of worries correlated to boys. You didn’t feel like dating at your age yet, seventeen wasn’t too young nor too old, but you felt like you weren’t ready for a relationship. And that was fine, your father was happy too, not quite ready to lose his ‘little’ girl which he was aware you weren’t anymore, but it brought closure to him to know that you didn’t crave male attention just yet. His ‘little’ girl’s heart would remain unscathed for a little longer.

And all of that sounded really good, really, you would’ve never complained about your ordinary life. Oh, well, that is until Seonghwa started showing up to your father’s car service frequently. For some reason, the two of them seemed to be getting on well, and your father allowed him to come in from time to time to fix his motorbikes. Seonghwa owned at least three by now. He was two years older than you and while all of his friends went to college, he stayed behind, telling people he wasn’t ready to choose just one thing he was interested in to study for the rest of his life. However, this confirmed your theory for you that he just didn’t know what he was good at and that he wasn’t smart enough to go to a good college. It might’ve been a little harsh to view him like that, but he never ranked too high in your high school, too busy chasing girls and starting fights. And so, one day, as you made your way home you decided to stop by your father’s car service before heading upstairs as you lived just above it.

The rock music blasted throughout the car service; a few cars scattered around as your father had quite a lot of work for the week. Him and his colleagues were nowhere to be seen and you figured you stopped by during their lunch break, everyone was back in the dressing room. But you wanted to greet your father still, show him the grade you got on your thesis, unable to keep the smile off your face. You scored the highest in your year, it made you ecstatic. Your father would always order your favorite food whenever you brought home an outstanding grade, celebrating your achievement. With a skip in your steps, you waltzed down the spacious room, appreciating the white Mercedes your father was currently fixing. You failed to notice the clanking of tools, so when you turned to your right, your heart almost jumped out of its place as you yelped loudly. The older guy just cast you an unimpressed glance before he bent down again, unscrewing something around the front spring of his motorbike. You placed a hand over your hammering heart, frozen in your place as you watched his long black hair fall over his face. His hair had gotten longer since the last time you saw him, which was probably around a year ago, at the closing ceremony of his graduation.

“Did you become a statue or what?” His low, monotone voice snapped you out of your initial shock and your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head, remaining silent. Seonghwa cast you a quick glance before he continued working, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to take off the nut screw. He had been sweating prior and he lightly tapped his forehead before twisting the screw again, nothing happening. You didn’t consider your next actions for long as you let your backpack fall onto the floor before walking up to Seonghwa, kneeling down beside him. He turned his head to look at you, his sharp eyes watching you closely as you inspected his work, chuckling. Of course the nut screw wouldn’t come off if it was stuck, almost fried onto the tube it was holding together. So, you looked around for a little oil and found it on your father’s stand, so, you stood and walked over to it, getting it, then walked back to Seonghwa’s motorbike. You kneeled down again and sprinkled a little oil around the nut screw, failing to notice Seonghwa’s curious gaze on you. Because it was slightly fried against the tube, you struggled to get the nut screw off at first, but after tugging at it and forcing it, it finally loosened up enough to come off, clattering onto the ground. You grinned in victory and grabbed the nut screw, turning your body towards Seonghwa to show him your success but you, instead, froze at the proximity. Your noses were almost touching and your wide eyes took in his face, taken by his mesmerizing features. He seemed tanner than the last time you saw him and his plump lips were redder too, dark eyes gazing into yours intently. Sweat rolled down the side of his temples, stray strands of hair sticking to his damp forehead. You had never seen him from so close before, and suddenly you understood all those girls who gave in to him. He was breathtaking. His sharp gaze held a glint of curiosity in it and that made you self-conscious as you quickly stood, clearing your throat, as you extended your hand to Seonghwa.

“Uh, sorry—” You started, avoiding eye contact, “I should’ve asked before helping—”

“I’ve been struggling to get that off for half an hour now,” Seonghwa chuckled as he stood, taking the nut screw from your hand; you didn’t fail to notice the way his pointer finger ran over the back of your palm, making you gulp nervously at the unnecessary action, “and you did it in like…five minutes.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just picked up your backpack and looked away as Seonghwa took a step towards you, your body tensing, “You’re Mr. Han’s daughter, right?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Y/N, I know who you are.” Did he really? You smiled a little, nodding your head as you heard laughter coming from behind you, it was your father’s. And as Seonghwa watched you, he noticed how tense you seemed to be around him yet as soon as your father approached the two of you, you had long forgotten about him. It was weird to him; he was used to girls throwing themselves at him constantly.

“Y/N!” Your father hugged you, excited to see you, “What brings you around here?”

Suddenly, a big grin appeared on your lips as you unzipped your backpack, digging around, looking for your thesis. Seonghwa watched intrigued as you pulled the paper out and shoved it in your father’s hands, who’s eyes had the same glint as yours in them. It was quite an endearing sight, how much the two of you resembled each other.

“I got the highest grade, dad!” You exclaimed with excitement and your father chuckled as his eyes ran over the papers, a proud look on his face as he handed it back to you.

“Very well, honey,” He handed you the thesis back, “You know what’s for dinner tonight then.”

Seonghwa watched as the biggest smile he’s ever seen on you spread onto your lips, snatching the thesis away from your father who just chuckled and winked at you. He’s seen you around your high school, but never had the chance to talk to you. It seemed as if you always ran away from him, almost as if you were avoiding him. He knew of his reputation, it was hard not to when everyone kept reminding him of it, yet you never seemed to care as you wouldn’t even cast a second glance his way. You weren’t fascinated nor scared of him, it was peculiar, but he never thought about you for too long. He usually didn’t like challenges when it came to girls and those who played hard to get never had his attention for too long. He wasn’t there for the long run, therefore he found it useless to invest so much energy into one girl only. But you seemed like you didn’t want his attention at all as you kissed your father’s cheek goodbye before you ran out of the service, forgetting about his presence altogether. It didn’t sit right with Seonghwa, and as he gazed after your bouncing form, your father chuckled and looked at him amused.

“Didn’t you two go to the same high school?” He asked and Seonghwa nodded his head.

“We did, but our circle of people were too different for us to know each other.” Seonghwa’s answer made your father chuckle to himself, nodding his head in understanding. He knew what type of boy Seonghwa was, he never truly expected his daughter meddling with him.

“Yes, that makes sense—” Your father said more to himself before his eyes fell on Seonghwa’s motorbike, “How’s the spring, son? Any progress?”

“Oh, I got the nut screw off finally—well, your daughter did, actually.” Seonghwa admitted with a shameful chuckle and your father nodded, not looking surprised in the slightest.

“Yeah, she’s quite the mechanic, my little one.” Your father gloated proudly before he walked off, headed towards the white Mercedes he was supposed to fix by Friday.

            And after that first encounter with Seonghwa, you considered it your first real encounter, you seemed to run into him everywhere. It started being creepy after a while and it made you feel weird as you told your best friend, who didn’t think much of it, unsurprisingly, and suggested that perhaps you were just randomly running into each other, your city wasn’t too big, after all. Despite that making sense, you couldn’t help but still think Seonghwa was doing it on purpose as he’d always strike up a conversation with you when you crossed paths. Sometimes it was about something really dumb and it would make you look at him with a questioning gaze, nevertheless, you still seemed to entertain him, curious of his motives. He never made obvious advances towards you, so you really didn’t understand what was the purpose of all of his actions. Perhaps he was looking for a friend now that his other friends were in a different city at college? But that didn’t make much sense as he stopped showing up to your father’s car service since he had fixed his motorbike, yet trailed you around the city whenever you were out. And one evening, as you were headed home from the library, you had been doing research on a fish type for you biology class, Seonghwa was there. Across from the library in the parking lot, sitting on his motorbike as his eyes fell on you. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked around, trying to find the person Seonghwa could be waiting for it. But it seemed like just the two of you were on the street and you sighed as you took off, but not towards him. The sun was long gone and you had to walk quite a lot to get home, so you didn’t want to waste any more time, not a fan of walking around alone at night. But you barely made it a few steps before you heard rapid ones approaching you from behind. By now, you knew it was Seonghwa. You had memorized his walking pattern and the force of his steps.

“Headed home?” And you were right as his head popped up next to yours. You cast him an unimpressed glance before nodding wordlessly. Seonghwa hummed and continued walking next to you, grinning as he realized you were trying not to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice the gear he was wearing, his thick jacket undone and his light sweater showing underneath. He has never touched you before, so when you felt his warm grip around your wrist, halting you from taking another step, your eyes widened. He pulled you lightly forward, towards himself, and you almost tumbled into him. His cologne was strong and you caught the whiff of something strawberry scented, his hair looked like it wasn’t completely dry.

“Let me take you home,” Seonghwa’s low voice was soft and quiet as he looked in your eyes, making you flustered, “It’s not safe for you to walk alone.”

This was it, then, the moment Seonghwa’s been probably waiting for to finally try and woo you. He didn’t seem like the patient type, you had to give him some credit for holding out for so long. And despite every fiber in your body asking you to accept his offer, heart thumping loudly at the proximity and wrist burning from his warm hold, you smiled and softly pulled away from him.

“Thank you, but I did this walk many times before,” Seonghwa wasn’t pleased with your answer at all, and he let you know as his eyebrows furrowed, “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

But Seonghwa didn’t let you leave, stepping in front of you, making your body collide against his, you hoped he didn’t hear your quiet gasp, “There’s plenty to be worried about, actually, so just let me take you home.”

You took a step back, trying to put some distance between your bodies, hoping he wouldn’t see your red cheeks. You didn’t think he’d be this persistent and as you looked up at him, he seemed very determined, “I’ve never ridden a motorbike before and I don’t have the proper gear either.”

That made Seonghwa chuckle and you watched as he quickly took his jacket off, closing the distance between your bodies once again, making you avoid eye contact as he draped his jacket around your shoulders. He held the collar together around your neck and you gulped nervously, his fingers lightly grazing against your neck. His jacket was heavy and a lot bigger than your frame, “I brought two helmets, don’t worry.”

You went to still try and deny his offer nicely, but Seonghwa was already pulling you after him, interlacing your fingers, making you blush again. You couldn’t deny his attractiveness anymore, and despite staying away from him for so long, you seemed to be unable to do so lately. Yes, he was everywhere, but you seemed to want him to be everywhere you were, his sharp gaze always following you, making you stay alert. When he wasn’t looking, you’d sneak peeks at him, admiring his features from afar, imagining as you ran your finger down his tall nose, his plump lips, his sharp jaw, and then all over his dark eyebrows. Park Seonghwa was gorgeous and you now understood those girls trying to get his attention, hoping he was the love of their lives. You entertained that thought sometimes, before falling asleep mostly, wondering if you could fall in love with Park Seonghwa. Wondering if he could genuinely love someone. Wondering if he could fall in love with you and not play you like all those other girls before you, But now, as you stood by his bike, allowing him to place the spare helmet around your head, securing it, it all felt so real and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was ever going to change. Seonghwa suddenly grinned, his smile making your heart melt, as he tapped the helmet where your cheeks were supposed to be, and you found yourself suddenly holding his hands, pressing them down, holding them in place

“Were you waiting for me?” You finally asked what’s been on your mind ever since you spotted him and now a charming smile appeared on Seonghwa’s lips, gaze locking with yours. He suddenly gripped your hands and brought them down to your sides, interlacing your fingers on both hands. You were glad the helmet somewhat concealed your currently red cheeks.

“Yes, I was,” Seonghwa admitted truthfully, “there are no coincidences when it comes to me, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you tried not to grin as Seonghwa watched your face closely for a reaction, grinning himself. You didn’t want strands of hair getting into his pretty eyes, so you found yourself pushing them behind his ear, hand lightly grazing against his skin, making Seonghwa gulp. He tried to remember a time when his heart was racing this much because of a girl, but he couldn’t. He watched you as you fixed his hair for him before placing the helmet around his head, securing it and tapping the top like he had done for you. It made him chuckle and you looked down, embarrassed, but excited by his reaction. Despite his bad boy reputation, he was being rather soft and almost shy as he released your hands and got on the bike, beckoning you over too. You got on too, excited and lightly scared by the new experience as Seonghwa brought the engine to life, reeving it a little and making you giggle. You allowed your arms to rest around his middle, holding him tightly as he took off, headed towards your house. You knew explaining this to your father would be a bit troublesome, but you hoped his liking for Seonghwa would help you out a little bit.

Masterlist (divider)