#answer comments I get distracted actually writing

[bi-bats]

18, 43, and 78 for the Fanfiction Writer Asks?

Oh my god Jpeg!!! Hi!!!! Thank you for the ask 💖💖💖 Sorry in advance for turning this into an essay but hopefully you enjoy it and thank you!!!!

18 - Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't, honestly. It tends to feel like homework sometimes, but I'm a huge reader and I love reading comics. It's just hard for me to find time between working full time and the D&D campaign I'm writing/DMing and the academic article I'm writing and being in a relationship and figuring out grad school/future stuff. Basically, I'm a really busy person but I just want to read and write fic all day 😭

As for which required the most research that I've already started posting, I'd have to say Know Yourself. I had to read Battle for the Cowl, and I still have to read Final Crisis (is that a spoiler? 👀). I basically did no research for Rooftops & Bookshops (I feel like it shows) but I did read quite a few summaries.

But the fic with the most research I will have to do is definitely the fic I'm going to talk about in the next question, for which I'll have to read Red Robin, Under the Red Hood and some of Tim's Robin run. Probably more, but it'll be worth it.

43 - Is there a trope or idea that you'd really like to write but haven't yet?

YES. So many. I want to write one bed and also time travel and also identity reveal (thank you jaytimweek for forcing me to do it providing me with the opportunity). I actually have two ideas for identity reveal, one of which will hopefully be up for jaytimweek. The other identity reveal is definitely going to be my next long fic. I already know it'll be near 100k words and I PROMISED myself I wouldn't start working on it until Know Yourself is fully posted except for the epilogue (so a few months 😭). The identity reveal longfic is also going to be a soulmates fic 😈 and I think it might technically not be a love square but also it sort of will be? OKAY IF I SAY ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT IT IM GONNA SPOIL SOMETHING NEXT QUESTION

78 - What motivates you during the writing process?

Honestly, I feel sort of shitty being like "people's reactions," because I shouldn't base my worth as a writer on how many kudos/comments I get, etc., etc., and no one reading this should feel any pressure to comment if they don't want to, but when I get to see how someone reacted to my work??? OH that's the stuff.

I tend to be my own worst critic with everything, but especially my own writing, so every time I see a new comment, I have the urge to run to my computer and write. I basically get high off comments, especially when it's from authors I love to read!!! (@ you jpeg. Detective Timothy Drake and the Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Dildo lives in my head rent free. That fic is a masterpiece.) There's just something about knowing that a writer I love enjoys my work. It really makes me feel confident in my writing, which makes me want to write more.

Also serial commenters!! I'm looking forward to what you think of every new chapter. Also people who just comment ahsjslakhdslkab or second kudos or a heart emoji. And people who post those really long comments theorizing or asking questions or copy/pasting quotes with their reactions??? My favorite. Satisfies the desire I have to watch everyone read my work so I can see them react to it.

Basically, knowing that people are enjoying what I write and want to read more is honestly the biggest motivator for me, which is why I tend to post chaptered stuff. I need the push to keep going, or else my piece would rot in my drafts (like some of my unposted works that I'll resuscitate one day)

Also if anyone reading this has ever commented on one of my fics, just know I think we're besties now. Come say hi. Even if you haven't commented and just want to motivate me to write more! Come say hi!

[spxllcxstxr]

How Jayce and Viktor Help Their S/O Deal with Their Depression • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: heyy :)) could you please write some jayvik x reader headcannons for how they would help reader deal with depression? -- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, depression/depressive episode mentions, nothing graphic, depression is different for everyone though I did try to keep it generalized

A.N: bit of a short one (sorry about that lol), please remember that there are people here to listen to you--don't suffer in silence, you are amazing

•

Jayce and Viktor were no strangers to bouts of depression and depressive episodes. It was something Viktor struggled with from a young age and something Jayce started dealing with when he became Piltover’s Golden Boy. As a result of this, Jayce and Viktor are able to help you in any way you need

Considering there are many ways depression can present itself, Jayce and Viktor ask you questions on what you think would help you the most. If you like grand gestures, they will happily do anything for you. On the other hand, if you want something more subdued or just a shoulder to cry on and am ear to listen, they are absolutely there for you

Jayce and Viktor compliment each other as partners pretty well because what one may lack, the other makes up for. Jayce isn't the best with words and actually getting what he's thinking out. He is absolutely in awe of your very being and he is so in love with you, but seeing you hurting is just so painful for him--he believes that he could never accurately describe how much you mean to him in words. That being said, he is great with physical comfort. If you need to simply lay in bed with someone's arms wrapped tightly around you, Jayce is perfect for that. He loves rocking you back and forth, hands rubbing circles across your back, lips pressed to your forehead. If you need a good cry, Jayce's muscular body is perfect for that

Viktor is mostly the other way around. He is great with explaining himself while not one for massive physical expression. He is the one that will sit you down in front of him, amber eyes staring into your own, while giving you the reassurance that you need. Viktor will hold onto your hands and listen to everything you say and also have actual advice for you. He may not know all the answers, he says, but he'll be with you every step of the way

They both do little things to remind you how much they care about you; like bringing home little trinkets or flowers for you or sometimes they'll cook or get your favorite food for dinner. If you need a distraction and are up for it, they'll take you on a walk down the streets of Piltover, maybe to find a bar or a little shop that you can explore. Anything that'll get your mind off of it

While Jayce and Viktor (especially Viktor) are workaholics, they would drop anything and everything for their partners. Your partners will happily bring their work home, no matter how many notebooks filled with scribbles and various equations they have to heave out of the lab. They know that you're going to feel guilty for pulling them out of the lab, and they shower you with reassurances that it's perfectly ok. Jayce will remind you that even Viktor needs work-from-home days (whether it be for his own mental health reasons or his physical health). Jayce will also make little comments throughout the day like "I'm glad we're working from home today, I can wear comfortable clothes instead of that stuffy councilor's jacket" or "Coffee just tastes better at home than in the lab"

It pains the both of them to see you suffering but they know from experience that sometimes there are just bad days. They are never disappointed in you if you're having a depressive episode or just a low-energy day. Just remember that they love you--they are always there for you no matter what

•

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[lewisvinga]

too late! | liam lawson x fem! leclerc! reader

summary; when due to playing tennis and being a leclerc sister, y/n doesn’t often interact with other drivers. so while traveling, she meets liam lawson and ultimately falls in love with him. having overprotective brothers means having to stick to a soft launch before revealing her relationship

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; none (?)

taglist; @namgification

notes; requested ! haha but i actually don’t write for liam lol but i rlly liked this request:p n i don’t really know much abt tennis so bear w me lol

masterlist !

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others!

yourusername: this week🌷💓

username: oh mystery man🤔

username: last slide??👀

alexandrasaintmleux: waiting for you to invite me to play tennis😣

yourusername: omg i’ll be in monaco soon!! let’s link up, i miss you😣😣

nicorosberg: make sure you keep that form up😉

yourusername: oh, nico, it was one time !!!

username: y/n gets a break from the wta tour and decides to soft launch😭😭😭

charles_leclerc: y/n??

yourusername: hiiiii charlie☺️☺️☺️

username: pretty girls stan y/n

username: 😍

username: who that

leclerc_pascale: toujours jolie, ma fille 😍 dis-lui que je te dis bonjour ! [always pretty, my daughter! tell him i say hello!]

yourusername: merci, mamannn💗 he says bonjour back😁

arthur_leclerc: maman, you know?

charles_leclerc: tell us, maman, please!

yourusername: go focus on ur vroom vroom go away

liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe, and others

yourusername: 💗

username: the alpha tauri shirt???

username: the leclercs really have the best genes wow

lilymhe: double date soon ?😁

yourusername: oh duh

username: wonder if the leclerc brothers know

arthur_leclerc: y/n, answer the gc now

yourusername: no😝

lorenzotl: do we need to have a family meeting ?

charles_leclerc: yes.

yourusername: no we don’t, you drama queens!

username: the leclerc brothers are so😭😭

nicorosberg: i would’ve liked to see how you played with him around 😂

yourusername: he distracts me 😞

charles_leclerc: nico knows but your own brother doesn’t???

yourusername: bc ur a drama queen

[caption 1; 🤍] [caption 2; serenading me 🥴]

liamlawson30 replied to your story !

liamlawson30

your brothers are gonna come after me😩

yourusername

they’re such drama queens

maman is happy 4 me , and my sexy bf is serenading me and that’s all that matters 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

liamlawson30

sexy you say say😏

yourusername

not w that emoji …

charles_leclerc replied to your story!

charles_leclerc

y/n, what is this

hello?

answer

answer

Y/N???

arthur_leclerc replied to your story!

arthur_leclerc

wtf

hes a driver

y/n what the heck

lorenzotl replied to your story!

lorenzotl

yeah we’re gonna have to have a talk😬

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story!

alexandrasaintmleux

keep me updated on how charles acts😭

yourusername

going crazy already🙄

liked by liamlawson30, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername: 💗

tagged; liamlawson30

liamlawson30: love you💙

yourusername: love youuu

liamlawsom30: can we get back to ur sexy bf comment tho 🤔

yourusername: yes we can😁

charles_leclerc: no you cannot. 5 feet away from her. she can’t kiss anyone until her wedding day.

yourusername: 🤦‍♀️

username: CHARLES COMMENT??

username: LMFAO CHARLES

username: they’re so🥹🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: cuties🤍

yourusername: no u😩

charles_leclerc: wait, alex, did you know??

yourusername: LEAVE CHARLES ITS TOO LATE FOR YOU TO BE A DRAMA QUEEN

arthur_leclerc: LET THE MAN SPEAK

arthur_leclerc: ew

yourusername: ur ew.

username: i can’t get over charles and arthur’s comments😭

[randomshyperson]

Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap.  | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful.  In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner. 

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure." 

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?" 

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection." 

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you. 

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first. 

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel. 

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around. 

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization. 

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me." 

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up." 

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you." 

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart." 

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose."  You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice." 

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way. 

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment. 

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks. 

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious. 

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority. 

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear." 

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?" 

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces. 

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order: 

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face. 

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath. 

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down. 

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot. 

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck. 

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her. 

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

[fanbasetwo]

GYUVIN HAVING A SECRET CRUSH ON YOU!!

NOTE FROM SENA , i actually had an idea in my mind (which might explain how I made this one so fast lol) thank you for requesting this anon, I actually had fun writing this one! [REQUESTED] college au MASTERLIST!!

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

i. THE CLASS PREZ & THE NEW STUDENT

From the moment you entered the classroom as the new student, Gyuvin—class president and campus golden boy—was assigned to guide you around.

He approached you with his signature bright grin and confidence, extending a hand. “I’m Gyuvin, class president and your new best friend. You’re in good hands.”

He quickly learned you struggled a bit with your studies, but instead of judging, he offered to help you. “No worries. I’ve got you.”

Gyuvin loved tutoring you—mostly because it gave him a reason to spend time with you.

ii. HELPING YOU CHEAT

Gyuvin is so against cheating—seriously, he’s class president, he’s responsible! But… he’s also whipped for you.

During a particularly tough exam, you whisper that you’re doomed, and Gyuvin just sighs dramatically. “Don’t move, okay?”

He slides his answer sheet ever-so-subtly toward you under the pretense of stretching, whispering, “This never happened.”

After the exam, he scolds you gently: “I can’t believe I did that! You owe me for breaking my morals.” But then he softens and grins, ruffling your hair. “You’re lucky it was you.”

He’d never admit that seeing your relieved smile made it all worth it.

iii. THE PROJECT PAIRING

When the professor announces a paired project, Gyuvin immediately claims you as his partner, leaving no room for debate. “We’re a team—no questions asked.”

Working on the project together brings you closer. You spend late nights in the library, him explaining concepts and teasing you when you get distracted.

He’d always bring snacks—especially a strawberry milk bottle—because he “can’t have his baby starving.”

The first time he calls you baby, you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You’re basically my baby at this point. I take care of you,” he jokes with that boyish grin.

iv. THE STRAWBERRY MILK HABIT

Gyuvin starts carrying a strawberry milk bottle everywhere, and his friends are utterly confused.

“Why do you always have that?”

“My baby might need it,” he says casually, ignoring the teasing looks.

Whenever you look tired or stressed, he wordlessly hands you the bottle with a small smile. “Drink up. It’s your favorite, right?”

Even before you started dating, it became a small tradition—his way of silently showing he cared.

v. HIS TERRIBLE “SECRET” CRUSH

Gyuvin genuinely thought he was being sneaky, but in reality, everyone (including you) figured it out long before he confessed.

His friends constantly teased him for how obvious it was—how his eyes lit up when you walked into a room, how he couldn’t stop talking about you, and how he always prioritized you over everything else.

“You’re so obvious, Gyuvin. Even she probably knows.”

“No way. I’m smooth,” he’d insist, completely unaware that you’d been catching on for weeks.

vi. WHEN YOU FOUND OUT

You finally caught on one day when you overheard Gyuvin’s friends teasing him about how whipped he was for you.

“Bro, you’re carrying two strawberry milks now? Are you building a shrine for her?”

Gyuvin groaned, blushing. “I just want her to be happy, okay? Shut up.”

You cornered him later, smirking. “So… whipped, huh?”

Gyuvin froze, completely flustered. “Who told you that?! I mean—uh—what?”

vii. THE STOLEN KISS

Before you could fully confront him about his feelings, Gyuvin decided to beat you to the punch.

It happened after one of your late project sessions. You were packing up your things when he suddenly leaned closer, grinning mischievously.

“You know,” he said softly, “it’s not really a secret crush if you already know, right?”

Before you could respond, he brushed his lips against your cheek—a soft, fleeting kiss that left you stunned.

He laughed at your reaction, standing up and stretching. “What? I had to make my move before you started teasing me for real.”

viii. THE CONFESSION & DATING

Gyuvin finally confessed properly a few days later. He showed up at your doorstep with a strawberry milk bottle in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

“Okay, fine. I like you—a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Will you let me call you ‘baby’ for real?”

You couldn’t say no, especially when he looked so hopeful. “Fine. But only if you keep bringing me strawberry milk.”

From then on, Gyuvin became the best boyfriend—teasing you constantly but always taking care of you in his own sweet way.

His friends groaned every time they saw you two together, calling you the “power couple” because of how smitten Gyuvin was.

ix. AFTER DATING GYUVIN

He never lets you forget how hard he worked for you. “Remember when I helped you cheat during that exam? That’s love, babe.”

He still calls you “baby,” but now it’s with even more affection.

And yes, he always—always—has a strawberry milk ready for you because, in his words: “I’ve been your class president, your tutor, your partner… but being your boyfriend is my favorite job.”

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (1)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Summary: This will be a series! Part 1: (Y/n) and Harvey were 'together' during their time at Harvard, but Harvey couldn't commit to an actual relationship. They 'break-up', or whatever you do to end a situationship, and split on bad terms. Years later, after they become successful lawyers, their paths collide once again when (Y/n) takes a job at Pearson Hardman.

Warnings: commitment issues, angst, arguing - I think that's it but if you noticed something I missed, please let me know.

Word Count: 1784

A/N: I haven't written in a WHILE. Please, please, please constructive criticism. Also, there's, like, no Harvey fanfics. I think I read literally all of them soooooo... that's why there's this thing. Anyways, lemme know if you're interested in part 2 (I already started writing lol).

Harvey and I didn’t used to be so distant. Once upon a time, while we were both attending Harvard, I was the person he went to practice flash cards to study for the bar. While I sat against my bed frame asking him questions off the cards, he’d lay on his stomach with his feet in the air. Seeing as we were both quick witted, we’d often get distracted and end with a battle of lighthearted jabs.

               And likewise, he was there for me when I had been stood up on a date with some frat boy. He ordered in some Chinese food and pulled a big tub of ice-cream out of my freezer. We sat on my goodwill couch picking apart the guy and making up some dumb unfathomable story as to why he hadn’t texted.

               “I can’t wait to hear the headline in the morning: Duke, whatever the hell his last name was, found having been thrown from his car in a head on collision right into a semi-truck loaded with rubber ducks.” He did a news reporter voice that didn’t sound far off from how he normally talked. “Luckily, the ducks cushioned his fall, so he only suffered having lost his phone and missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime with the (Y/N) (L/N).” I repress my giggle but can’t stop the goofy smile on my face. “What a loss.”

               “I mean,” I spoon more ice-cream into my mouth, “Who would name their son Duke? You can tell they wanted a dog.” He nodded along to that and all the other ridiculous things we talked about that night.

               But some friendships don’t last forever. Especially, when you want more.

               We grew closer and had fleeting kisses often. Some borderline dates, but never anything serious. Never anything real. Not to him.

               “Harv.” I called his name from the couch after I heard the door to his apartment open and close. He walked through the door with a smile on his face. “How was your day?” I asked, but I already knew the answer just by looking at his face. He had a mock trial set that day and absolutely crushed it. He was assigned the husband’s attorney and was in charge of making sure that the wife got the minimum of what she was entitled to without having signed a prenup.

               After he boasted about his triumph, I applauded him. But he wasn’t finished running his big mouth. And his next, one little comment, threw our relationship through a loop. “One of the stupidest things a person can do is get married.” He smirked as he took of his jacket and started on his tie.

               I froze in my place on the couch. He continued getting comfortable and taking off his restricting clothes with his back facing me. My throat was tight, but I persevered, I had to make sure that I had heard him right. “You think marriage is stupid?”

               I eyed his back feeling distraught. Every fiber in my being hoped and pleaded that he was joking, but my gut knew better. Moreso, it knew Harvey better.

               “Marriage, in my eyes, is an irrational vulnerability. There’s no point other than, I don’t know, taxes?” He rambles on with his back still facing me. My heart clenches. “And even then, it’s not worth it. Divorce can ruin everything. A man, his family, hell, it can run an entire business into the ground.”

               My head was throbbing, and I couldn’t help the hot tears that brim my eyes. “Huh.” I acknowledge. My voice feels raw already from holding back letting out any noises. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

               My voice must have given me away because Harvey flicks his head over his shoulder to spare me a glance before double taking. His eyes widen and his body tenses. He turned his body to me and takes a step in my direction before stopping in his tracks. A tear falls down my cheek and I feel burning hot embarrassment in my chest.

               “Honey…” He gently grabs me by my biceps and looks into my eyes. “What’s wrong.” His voice is smooth as he caresses my cheek and pulls my face into his chest. I let out a choked cry and he rocks me back and forth for a few moments.

               I feel ridiculous. “Oh, it’s nothing.” I can tell I’m not being convincing when Harvey pulls my face from his chest and gives that knowing look before putting it right back where it belongs.

               I had no idea what to say. How do you tell your kind-of-but-not-really-boyfriend that you had already planned what the centerpieces at your wedding would look like? That this was it. This was everything you wanted. He was everything you wanted.

               “Even if it was me?” I blurted it out before I could really think about what I was saying. He looked confused for a second but then his face went stern.

               “Y/N.” All of a sudden, his delicate touch is a little heavier. “We’re not even-…” He cuts himself off and looks to the corner of the room. My mouth opened as I processed what he was too scared to say.    

               “You don’t want me.” My expression turned icy and I looked down. He let out a frustrated noise and pulled away from me. Though, I felt empty before he could even begin to move from my embrace.

               “That’s not it.” His brows were furrowed, and he wouldn’t look at me. That’s exactly it. I read his face and could feel he was holding something back. I was at a loss for words. I removed my body from the bed and let out an emotional scoff.

               I speedily walked into the bathroom, trying to make a plan. Any plan that won’t leave me anymore heartbroken than I already was.

Leave.

               It was my only option. I eyed the unused, small garbage bag next to the toilet and ripped it from its basket. “Y’know,” I suddenly felt his presence behind me. “I know you’re studying to be a lawyer and their whole schtick is lying and-” I started tossing my deodorant and face wash and every other thing I bought for his place into the bag. “-and withholding the truth.” I ranted in a demeaning voice. “But I didn’t think you would do that to me-”

               “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was raised and his hands were out to his side in an exasperated way. “I didn’t lie!” I didn’t stop tossing things in, in fact I’d finished my bathroom segment and moved on to his closet.

               “You’re right- you didn’t lie, you just kissed me, went on dates, and cuddled me! But, oh no, you’re right. We’re not anything.” I growled as I tossed my spare shirts and pants from his closet onto the bed before stuffing them in my already bulging, see-through bag.

               He didn’t yell, but he did have an icy tone when saying, “It’s not my fault if you convinced yourself there was something here when there wasn’t.” I stopped trying to make everything fit into the bag. The next few seconds were silent as I let his words sink in. My heart had to have gotten heavier because it felt like it was in my gut. Either that, or I was about to vomit.

               All I could think was ‘get out’. I couldn’t look at him, fuck, my heart hurts so bad. I tie off the bag and walked from his bedroom into the living room and finally, slam his front door. I couldn’t help but stop outside of it to try and listen for footsteps… but I heard none.

               So, I left. For the next few days, I spent my hours crying, sleeping, crying again and completely and utterly alone.

               I hardly saw Harvey again whilst I was at Harvard, thank God we were in different law classes. Of course, with an ego as big as his, it was impossible not to at least hear about him every once and a while. During graduation, I grimaced knowing that he was a few feet away with that million-dollar smile on his face. Never the matter, I put a smile on my face too and high-tailed it when the picture was over.

I moved back to the city I was born and raised, not too far from New York. I practiced as an associate for a while, but quickly climbed the ranks and made Junior Partner at the firm. I had mind blowing reviews and an amazing success rate that assured a job offer at whatever firm would have me. In fact, I worked so hard at my firm, that I reached the capacity of what they could pay me as a Junior Partner. I could either become Senior Partner or go somewhere else if I wanted to continue to grow my paycheck.

               And if I learned anything from Harvey Douchebag Specter, it’s that I should never settle. I set my eyes on the most successful firm in New York: Pearson Hardman. One over the phone interview and a quick glance at my numerous 5-star reviews, recommendations, and success rate-and I was welcomed to the Pearson Hardman family.

I rented an apartment not too far from the firm and began unpacking the few things I had. After paying off my student debt, I went on a spending spree, and I wound up with more than I could manage. After being knees deep in Dior, I had to offload some stuff. I packed everything I couldn’t part with and donated everything else to be distributed to a few women’s shelter. They couldn’t contain their excitement and now I’m a part of the state-wide organization. Funny enough how those things happen!

Either way, it was a fresh start, through and through. I had the bare necessities, and I was content. A shopping spree for some Ikea furniture was calling my name, though. The apartment was a literal husk up and would remain that way until I could find the time to go shopping.

Being in the city where I studied law and had some of the toughest years of my life made me emotional, but in the best way. Now I’m back, and at least 3 times as kick-ass as before.

Of course, since Harvard, I’d heard a comment or two about Harvey and what he’s been up to, but I tended to butt my head out, far away from his business. I’m sure he’s somewhere still in New York, I mean, he loved this city- but New York’s huge! There’s no way I’ll be seeing him anytime soon.

[rootedinrevisions]

Let's Find Out Together

SUMMARY: After a painful breakup, you turn to Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, your longtime friend, for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense, unexpected connection that blurs the line between friendship and something more. Now, as the sparks fly, you're left questioning everything you thought you knew about love, friendship, and passion.

A/N: Thank you to the Anon who sent this request in! this was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What do you like?" "I don't know." "Well, then how about we find out together?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. (Biting, Marking, Oral Female Receiving)

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual buzz—boots scuffed against the wooden floors, laughter echoed from the pool table, and the jukebox played a classic rock song that you barely registered. You sat at the bar, staring down into the bottom of your glass like it might hold the answers to every question rattling around in your head.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice from behind you.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw slid onto the stool beside you, his presence like a balm for your frayed nerves. His aviators hung from the neckline of his shirt, and his easy smile faded the moment he got a good look at your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now, concerned.

You tried to muster a reassuring smile but knew it fell flat. “Nothing. Just… a long day.”

He wasn’t buying it. Bradley had known you long enough to spot when something was bothering you. His brow furrowed as he leaned in closer, his voice low. “Come on. It’s me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. Then, with a quiet sigh, you admitted, “I broke up with Derek.”

Bradley’s expression flickered—something unreadable passed over his face, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. He took a moment, then asked, “What happened?”

You swallowed, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I caught him cheating on me.”

Bradley’s hand clenched around his beer bottle, his jaw tightening. “That asshole,” he muttered under his breath, then louder, “He can go screw himself.”

You snorted at his bluntness, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. Bradley’s intensity softened as he looked back at you.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone gentler now. “You deserve better than that. Better than him.”

“Yeah, right,” you replied with a hollow laugh. “Good guys aren’t as common as they used to be.”

Bradley shrugged casually, but his lips twitched into a small smile. “I think I’m a pretty good guy.”

You blinked, caught off guard, then smiled at him. “Yeah, you are. One of the best, actually.”

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the bar. “Then let me take you on a date.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “Bradley…”

His brown eyes held yours, steady and earnest. “I mean it. Let me take you out.”

“You don’t mean it,” you said, shaking your head, though your pulse quickened at the thought.

“I do,” he countered, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked you for a while. But you were with Derek, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Now that you’re not…” He trailed off, his gaze softening. “I just want to show you how you should’ve been treated all along.”

Your heart twisted at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t process how Bradley—your steady, dependable Bradley—was suddenly baring his feelings to you like this.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted quietly.

“Say yes,” he said simply.

Your lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. 

“Okay,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His face lit up, and he reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against yours where they rested on the bar. The touch was tentative, warm, and for the first time that night, you felt the weight on your chest ease just a little.

“Let me take you home,” he said. “You’ve had enough of this place for one night.”

You nodded, letting him help you off the stool. As he led you toward the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something you’d been too blind to see before.

The drive back to your place was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine filling the space as you leaned back in your seat, watching the lights of the town blur past. Bradley’s hand rested casually on the gearshift, his fingers drumming lightly against it in time with the song playing low on the radio.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “is this you taking me home and tucking me in? Or is this you taking me home?”

Beside you, Bradley’s lips twitched into a grin, though he kept his eyes on the road. “Depends,” he said smoothly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want it to be?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked.” His tone was light, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something more—something that made your stomach flip.

“Just so you know,” you said, folding your arms across your chest in mock indignation, “you’re terrible at tucking people in. I seem to remember you leaving me to sleep on a couch last New Year’s while you stole my blanket.”

Bradley laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “First of all, that blanket was fair game. Second, you’re the one who insisted on watching that terrible rom-com marathon. I was being a good friend by suffering through it.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Suffering? You cried during The Notebook.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Fine. Maybe I got something in my eye. A guy can be moved by powerful cinema without crying, you know.”

“Sure, Brad,” you said, unable to keep the smile off your face.

The banter continued, easy and familiar, until he pulled up outside your place. He shifted the car into park but didn’t immediately move to unbuckle his seatbelt. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes searched yours.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice low, “it’s up to you. I meant what I said back there. I’m not in a rush. I just want to be here for you.”

Your smile faded into something gentler as the weight of his words settled over you. “I know, Bradley. And… I appreciate it.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air in the car thick with something unspoken. Then you reached for the door handle, breaking the spell.

“You coming in, or are you going to sleep in the car?” you asked, your tone teasing but your heart pounding.

Bradley grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You know I’m not letting you go in there without company.”

You reached your front door, fishing your keys out of your bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Bradley trailed behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. As you tried to slot the key into the lock, your hands trembled—whether from the chill or the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure.

Before you could get the door open, you felt him. Bradley’s hands slid gently around your waist, his touch tentative at first, as though giving you the chance to pull away. When you didn’t, he pulled you closer, his chest pressing against your back.

“Bradley…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

His only response was to lean down, his lips brushing softly against the curve of your neck. The first kiss was light, testing, a feather-soft touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The second lingered longer, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice low and husky against your neck.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. “Yeah,” you hummed, the word barely audible.

You swore you felt him smile against your skin before he continued, his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His lips trailed down the side of your neck, tracing a path toward your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, anchoring you to him as his mouth moved lower.

Every kiss sent a wave of warmth through you, the world outside your little bubble fading away.

“Bradley…” His name slipped from your lips, half a sigh, half a plea, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

He hummed in response, his lips still trailing over your skin. His touch wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was deliberate, reverent, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he cared to admit.

You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his gaze, but he paused, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he spoke. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said softly.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you turned fully in his arms, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest. His brown eyes searched yours, and whatever he saw there must have been enough, because his lips were on yours a moment later, warm and sure, pulling you even closer.

Bradley’s lips never left yours as his hands moved down your back, his fingers grazing over the curve of your hips before gripping your thighs. With an effortless motion, he lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support.

Your breath hitched as he adjusted his hold, steady and sure, like he’d done this a hundred times in his mind. The strength in his arms sent a shiver through you, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered how he managed to make it all look so seamless.

Still cradling you securely, Bradley leaned back just enough to reach behind you, pushing your door open with one hand. The kiss never faltered, his lips still moving against yours in a way that made your head spin. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his boots echoing softly against the hardwood.

With a swift motion, he kicked the door shut behind him, the solid thunk of it closing grounding you in the moment. Then he turned, pressing your back gently against the wall, his body pinning yours in place.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as his lips traveled down, brushing over your jawline and back to your mouth. The intensity of his kiss deepened as his tongue slipped past your lips, teasing, exploring, drawing a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t hold back.

Bradley’s hands slid down your sides, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake. When they settled on your waist, his thumbs stroked slow, deliberate circles against your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way he held you—firm but gentle, steady but utterly consuming—made your pulse race.

Every movement, every touch, felt purposeful, like he was trying to show you with his hands and mouth everything he hadn’t yet said out loud.

“Bradley,” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless and shaky.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing yours as he paused just long enough to look at you, his brown eyes dark and full of something that made your stomach flutter.

You couldn’t form the words, but he didn’t seem to need them. Instead, he dipped his head again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss that left no room for doubt about how he felt—or how much he wanted you.

Bradley pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his lips hovering near yours as his warm breath brushed your skin. His hands still rested on your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your sides as his eyes searched yours with a mixture of mischief and heat.

“So,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “do you still want me to just tuck you in?”

The question made your pulse quicken, but instead of faltering, a surge of boldness rose within you. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging his head back gently but firmly, exposing the strong line of his throat. His lips parted slightly, and a low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound sending a shiver through you.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing the edge of his jaw as you whispered, “I want you, Bradley.”

His reaction was immediate. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer against him as his eyes darkened with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he muttered, his voice rough and full of unspoken desire.

Without another word, he shifted you in his arms with ease, his hold on you unwavering as he stepped back from the wall. Your legs tightened instinctively around his waist, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he turned and started down the hallway.

The journey to your bedroom felt electric, every step punctuated by the tension between you. Bradley’s grip on you was sure and steady, his strength making you feel both weightless and completely grounded.

As he reached the door to your room, he paused, glancing at you with a small, almost cocky smirk. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, though his voice held a note of seriousness beneath the playfulness.

Your response was simple: you leaned forward and kissed him, pouring every ounce of your pent-up feelings into it. That was all the answer he needed.

With a quiet chuckle, he carried you over the threshold, his lips finding yours again as he stepped inside and nudged the door closed behind him with his foot.

Bradley walked you over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Gently, he lowered you onto the soft mattress, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he leaned over you. The room felt still, save for the quiet rustle of sheets beneath you and the sound of your own uneven breathing.

He braced himself on one arm, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as his lips met yours again. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Then his mouth began to travel, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and back down to your neck.

Between kisses, his voice came out low and teasing. “What do you like?”

The question caught you off guard, and you froze for a moment, your mind blanking under the weight of it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley stilled, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“You’ve... you’ve done this before, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with an awkward uncertainty.

A laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve slept with people before,” you said, your tone light and reassuring. “It’s just... all the guys I’ve been with only ever did missionary.”

His expression shifted instantly. First, his eyes widened in disbelief, and for a split second, you thought he might be about to argue. But then his lips curled into a slow, confident smirk, the kind that made your pulse race.

“Missionary,” he repeated, the word almost incredulous. “That’s it?”

You shrugged, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, teasing murmur. “Well, then... how about we find out together?”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours again, and his hands began to explore, sliding over your sides and down to your thighs.

Bradley’s fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but laced with anticipation.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

With deliberate care, he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, his hands brushing against your skin as he did. The warmth of his touch lingered, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze didn’t waver as it roamed over you, and the look in his eyes made you feel more seen—and more desired—than you ever had before.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice reverent but with an edge of heat that made your cheeks flush. His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans next, his thumbs hooking into the fabric as he paused to look at you again. “Still okay?”

You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat.

He made quick work of the button and zipper, easing the denim down your legs and leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. He straightened, his gaze sweeping over you as you lay back against the pillows.

“God,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so beautiful. No... you’re sexy.”

The compliment hit you like a spark, and for a moment, you wondered why you had never let yourself see Bradley like this before. He wasn’t just your dependable, loyal friend. He was this—sweet, confident, and undeniably attractive.

He knelt back down, his hands gently trailing up your thighs as he leaned in. “You tell me if there’s anything you don’t like,” he reminded you, his voice soft but firm.

“I will,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His lips found your neck again, pressing gentle, lingering kisses against your skin. Then you felt his teeth graze your neck—a new sensation, one that sent a jolt through you. Before you could process it, he bit down gently, and you gasped, the sound escaping you unbidden.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “You like that?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Do you want me to do it again? Do you want me to mark you?”

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching. “Yes. I want to be yours.”

The words barely left your lips before he leaned in again, his teeth sinking into your neck just enough to sting, followed by the soothing press of his mouth as he sucked on the tender skin. The sensation was unlike anything you’d felt before—electric, heady, and intimate. When he pulled away, you could feel the heat of his gaze as he admired the dark mark he’d left.

Bradley smirked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as he leaned in to kiss you. “Can’t wait to see what you look like with those all over,” he whispered, his tone filled with a promise that made your pulse race.

You couldn’t help but smirk back at him, a boldness blooming in your chest. “Where else do you want to put one?”

His eyes darkened with a mix of mischief and intent, and his smirk widened. Without another word, he lowered his head, his lips trailing along your collarbones before dipping lower, stopping just above your breasts.

He paused for a moment, looking up at you as if to ask for permission. You gave him a small nod, and he bit down again, his mouth working to leave another mark, this time on the skin between your breasts.

The sensation sent another wave of heat coursing through you, and when he pulled back, his expression was pure satisfaction as he admired his work. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Bradley's hands slid up your sides, his thumbs grazing the edge of your bra. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, silently asking for permission. When you gave him a slight nod, he reached behind you with practiced ease, unhooking the clasp and gently sliding the straps down your shoulders.

The garment fell away, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his gaze filled with reverence and hunger that made your skin flush.

One of his hands moved to cup your breast, his palm warm against your skin as his fingers squeezed gently, exploring. The sensation was new, different, and surprisingly intoxicating. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin before his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

The feeling sent a jolt of electricity through you. No one had ever paid much attention to your chest before; past partners had always been more focused elsewhere, making offhand comments about your body that left you feeling unbalanced. But this—Bradley’s touch, his mouth—was deliberate and consuming as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Then you felt his teeth, a brief, unexpected pressure that made you gasp, your back arching as you unconsciously pushed your chest further into his mouth.

Bradley hummed against you, his lips curving into a smirk as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. 

“You like that,” he murmured, not as a question but a quiet declaration.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, your voice too tangled in the haze of sensation to respond properly.

He didn’t wait for words. He pulled away, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he shifted to your other breast. His hand replaced his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers while his lips found their target. This time, he didn’t hesitate, biting down gently but firmly, drawing another involuntary gasp from you.

The sound made something flicker in his eyes—satisfaction, excitement, and a hint of possessiveness. His tongue swept over the spot he’d bitten, his mouth working with a combination of suction and teasing flicks that had your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Bradley pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he looked up at you. “I love hearing those sounds you make,” he said softly, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver through you. His hands slid down to rest on your waist again, grounding you as his lips brushed a gentle kiss against the curve of your breast. “I’ve got so much more I want to show you.”

Bradley’s eyes never left yours as he slowly made his way down your body, his lips brushing over your skin with a slow, deliberate pace. His hands were gentle but firm, guiding you closer to the edge of something new and thrilling. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, his gaze flickered up to meet yours once more.

He smiled, a look of both excitement and admiration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to hear the sounds you make when I do thi,” he said, his voice low and husky. The weight of his words settled heavily between you, making your heart race.

You swallowed, your breath hitching slightly as he traced his fingers along your thighs, his touch light and teasing. His lips followed, pressing a soft kiss to one thigh before moving to the other, a trail of warmth in his wake. Then, with a careful touch, he slid your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you feeling exposed, but strangely safe in his hands.

He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, before lowering himself further. The air between you two was thick with anticipation. His hands gently caressed your hips, grounding you as his lips finally reached your center.

The moment his mouth made contact, your body jolted with the sensation, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as you arched into him, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

Bradley was slow, methodical, taking his time to explore and bring you closer to the edge. Every touch, every movement was carefully tuned to your reactions. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel good—he wanted to know what made you tick, to learn the rhythm of your body in a way no one else had before.

Bradley’s focus never wavered as he continued his work, taking his time to explore, making sure every movement was deliberate and sure. Each kiss, each touch, each gentle caress sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t stop the quiet gasps that escaped your lips as you reacted to him.

He shifted slightly, and his movements grew more confident. His lips found that sweet spot, the one that made your breath catch, and when he applied a little more pressure, a moan slipped from you—louder than you’d intended, and unmistakably full of need.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but then Bradley’s voice, low and full of approval, reached your ears.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smile against your skin. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He repeated the motion, coaxing another breathy moan from you. The sound was so raw, so genuine, it made him groan in return.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body arching further into him as the sensations built. “Bradley…” you moaned, almost too loudly, your eyes squeezing shut as a wave of heat coursed through you.

He growled in approval, the sound so deep that it sent a rush of excitement through your veins. “You sound so good, baby. Keep letting me know how you’re feeling.”

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers threading through it, gripping him closer. The intensity in his gaze grew, and the way he praised you made you feel both empowered and desired in a way you’d never experienced before. You felt your body reacting to him, to his touch, to the way he made you feel so seen, so good.

Every movement he made, every sound you gave him, only fueled the connection between you two. This wasn’t just physical—it was raw, emotional, a dance of vulnerability and trust. And Bradley loved hearing you like this, loved knowing he was the one who could make you feel this way.

Every touch, every flick of his tongue, every deliberate movement made your entire body hum with need. You felt yourself coming undone, the sensations overwhelming as your breath hitched and your body responded to him.

Then, with one final, deliberate motion, Bradley pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as the release washed over you, your body trembling in waves of pleasure. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a low moan, as the intensity of the moment left you breathless, unable to form words. It was the first time a guy had made you finish just with his mouth and hands, and it left you gasping, completely undone.

Bradley’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he crawled back up the bed, his hands gently brushing the hair away from your face. His eyes were soft with affection, his gaze intense as he looked down at you, making sure you were okay. 

“You alright?” he asked, his voice hushed, a mix of concern and pride.

You nodded, still panting slightly, the aftermath of the orgasm leaving you weak but content. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice unsteady. “I’m… I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Bradley chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, a tender contrast to the intensity of the moments before. “I’m glad I could give that to you,” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity.

You smiled up at him, feeling a mix of vulnerability and comfort, knowing that this moment was something you’d never forget. His presence, the way he made you feel, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Bradley settled beside you, keeping you close, his hand resting on your waist as he held you. Bradley’s hand gently traced patterns on your skin as he settled next to you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. 

“So, what do you want to try next?” he asked, his voice low, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You blinked up at him, feeling a newfound boldness. Without missing a beat, you shot him a playful smirk. “I want to ride you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Bradley’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching at the unexpectedness of your response. A grin spread across his face, his hands moving quickly as he pulled you on top of him, your bodies aligning with a hunger that was only growing. 

“Damn, baby,” he groaned, the thought of you in control sending heat shooting through his veins. 

You both shared a laugh, the playful tension still crackling in the air, before the moment turned more serious again. But this time, there was no question—the night was only just beginning.

[slushnubwrites]

Room Secrets

Tw: Smut/Sexual content

(Hii this is my first tumblr post/writing I hope whoever reads this enjoys. I thought this man was toooo fine, and needed more stories, if there are any spelling mistakes I am sorry english is not my first language. I also appreciate feedback just please don't be mean!!)

Kwon Jae-Sun, ever since my team Miyagi do & I got to the Sekai Taikai he was a prick. He was Cobra Kai's captain so of course he'd be an ass. Any chance to try and start a fight he'd take it, any chance for a snarky remark he'd take it, he was an asshole, and to piss me off more he'd make flirtatious comments, and send me winks here and there, but I never took him seriously. I hated him, hated his team, hated how he fought, hated how he always had a stupid smirk on his face, hated his attractive accent, hated how his hair was cute, spiky, and perfectly framed his face. I hated his face, his really good looking face that was hard to look away from. I hated him, but it was hard to deny, and say that he wasn't hot cuz God was he hot.

After all teams had been announced they told us to gather at the aquarium for something like a "field trip" so we'd all get to know each other and make "friends". Did they think that would actually work when all we want is to rip each other's heads off? It was so boring, but eventually everyone could depart. I'm walking around, and hear a couple of cheers and laughs, as i'm about to walk in, the crowd dies down, and people start walking out. I decided to wait for my team to walk out since everyone was leaving, and lucky me to see Kwon walk out and walk up to me.

"Hey princess if you need place to sleep feel free to come knock on my door now that I have your friend's room" he said it with a dumb grin on his face. "What are you talking about?" you asked annoyed and confused written all over your face. "Ask your loser teammates who can't kick" he starts walking away but right before that, he leans into your ear, you feel his breath on your cheek sending a shiver down your body as he whispers "and i'm not joking about the room sweetheart" you could hear the dumb smirk in his voice. "In your dreams" you say with a snarl, "every night" he whispers again, with that he walks off with a wink and smug look on his face. You start to picture some questionable images with what Kwon said, but you know you shouldn't, and quickly stop yourself, you bite your cheek and start looking for your friends.

You walk up to your defeated looking team in a small huddle. Robby looking the most disappointed and Miguel having an "I told you so" face. "Hello?? what happened, and why is Kwon walking out with your room keys??" You glare at each of them searching for an answer. Demetri speaks up "Robby here gambled our room over a stupid kicking competition". "I'm sorry okay!" Robby exclaimed defeatedly. "Okay well whatever happened get over it no distractions, you can stay in the girls room, just don't be idiots next time, c'mon" I tried to be positive but hated that now i'd have to share a room with four extra people.

It was time to sleep now after the guys brought in their things, found a way to fit themselves on the floor, and had an argument that made me want to kick their heads off. I lay awake in bed, I couldn't sleep, thoughts and nerves racing through my mind. There was something else though, I was trying my hardest to ignore it, my hardest to shake it out of my mind. That spiky hair, those bold black eyes, him in that compression shirt that hugged his figure. "Stop it" I thought to my self, it wasn't right to think about him like that, he was on the rival team, he was in Cobra Kai.

I get up and walk to the restroom, my eyes sting a bit from the brightness, I put cold water on my face trying to ignore every thought. I know I won't be able to sleep, and suddenly I remember something from earlier. "If you need a place to sleep feel free to come knock on my door". "No I can't do that" I thought to myself. Plus he was joking, then you remembered his words "and i'm not joking about the room sweetheart". No there's no way, he couldn't actually be serious...right? I mean we hated each other.

I hated myself for what I was doing, I knew this was wrong, I wanted to punch myself for this, but I couldn't get myself to stop or turn around, or even think right about what the hell I was doing. Maybe I should just go back to my room, but I was too close and tired to go back now. I'm standing in front of his door, or what I hoped was his since he won both. I prayed that I wouldn't embarrass myself more if his teammate was in this one.

I lightly knocked on the door, after a few seconds I convinced myself that maybe he or whoever was behind the door was asleep. Plus my fear was telling me that I should just go back, as I'm about to turn I hear the door knob move. I almost shit myself as the door opens, and there I see him, black sweats, red shirt, wet hair, God looking hot as ever. Water was dripping from his neck into his shirt sticking to his chest, and the water dripping down his veiny buff arms were not helping my imagination either, he honestly looked lick-able.

"I'm so stupid why am I here"?? I mentally yelled at myself. "Hey princess my bad I was getting out of shower when you knocked". "It's okay I was about to go back, I figured you were asleep since it's late" I say with a light smile. He returns a really faint smile saying " No, I practiced with Kreese for a few extra hours that's why". "Oh okay, well I should go, you must be tired, and I'm sorry if I bothered I just-". He cuts me off and with a smirk says "I wasn't joking when I said you could come to the room you know?, so don't worry. I am not tired, I train hard everyday, harder than your team could ever imagine". I scoff and roll my eyes, God he is always a cocky asshole, "okay well if you weren't joking I do need a place to sleep, I can't seem to shake any thoughts and nerves away". "Why princess you can't stop thinking of me"?, I scoff "Yeah you wish, now can I come in before somebody sees us".

"Yes ma'am" he says with a light chuckle opening the door wide enough for me to walk in, God I hated him, but I can't deny that made me feel something. I'm walking in and surprisingly it was really neat, I feel his eyes burn holes into my back as I keep walking. He closes the door and I hear it lock, I start feeling nervous, it gets quiet, but not awkward. I walk to the bed on the right, I get on the side to the nightstand, and set my phone down. I turn to ask him a question, not realizing how close he was, our bodies basically pressing together. My breath hitches, we make eye contact and I instantly look away trying to remember what I was going to ask "Um s-so-" he leans in and I feel his breath on my face as he towers over me. "What's wrong are you nervous"? he smirks and whispers as if we're not the only ones in the room.

I try to keep my composure but it's so difficult when he's only a few inches away from my face. "N-no" God why'd I have to stutter, I mentally palm my face. I look up at him and he knows I'm nervous, I want to wipe that smirk off his dumb hot face, he starts talking "Okay well we should go to sleep" he starts to turn. I know I shouldn't, I know it's dumb, and we're rivals, but I couldn't help myself. We were here, alone, no one had to know so why not. I hated him, but I couldn't deny how attractive he was, and the things he made me feel.

Before he makes a full turn I grab the edge of his sweatpants and lightly pull him back, "wait". He looks at me with a blend of curiosity, and confusion on his face. "Is something wrong"? he asks. I slowly let go of his sweats "Um no I was just thinking that um, I don't know uh" I was trying to get the confidence to say it but it was too hard to think with him staring at me waiting for my answer. "Whatever you need to say, say it" he says with a hint of concern. "Why'd you invite me to come here? I mean we've both been nothing but rude and snarky to each other. We basically hate each other" I say it with concern, and speed trying to get it all out without getting nervous.

He chuckles, and gets even closer to me, he grabs my chin making me look up at him, "I do not hate you, not one bit, yeah I like to mess with you, because it is cute to see you get all mad at me". I open my mouth to say something but he cuts me off "I invite you here because we can be alone, no senseis, no teams to bother us. Of course if you want to sleep then we will, and if you want something else we can do that too" that last sentence was laced with something else like he wanted me to pick the something else. I wanted it yes, but I was too afraid to say it, and yes we're alone, but part of me felt like I was betraying my team.

I ignored my thoughts, and quickly worked up a bit of courage "I want the something else" I whispered with not as much confidence as him, "okay, and what would that be"? he said it like a question, but I knew he knew. "Our senseis and teams would kill us you know"? I reminded him, but honestly I wasn't sure if I cared anymore. He moves his hand from my chin and cups my cheek "You think I care what they do? I've wanted you since I saw you walk in to the Sekai Taikai, I needed you since then". Hearing him say that made me snap, in that moment all my fear, and all thoughts about karate disappeared. "Kwon kiss me" I grip the collar of his shirt, and he grabs my hips with his other hands. Our lips clash, the kissing is slow at first, gentle, his lips are soft and I don't want to ever stop . Slowly we start to speed up, breathing is getting harder but neither of us wants to stop first. We pull apart for a second, our foreheads against each other's, we start to catch our breaths he looks at me and whispers "are you sure you want to do this?" "I'm sure".

With that we press our lips back together, he picks me up my legs wrap around his torso, I grab the back of his hair and tug a bit. He moans and slips his tongue in my mouth, he's holding both my legs with his arms and moves us to his bed. I'm now straddling him still playing with his hair, he moves his hands to the end of my shirt and slowly pulls it off of me. I move a bit back admiring him as he pulls off his red shirt. His biceps flexing as he pulls his shirt fully off of his head. I can feel him hard underneath his sweats, and I start to grind on him, I hear him groan as he starts unclipping my bra and helps me take it off. He flips us over and cups my cheek, he looks at me with a sweet, and hungry look in his eyes "you're so beautiful" he whispers to me and gives me a peck on the lips, he starts to kiss on my neck sending shivers down my body.

I had no idea what to say, he looked so good, and I wanted him to destroy me "thank you" he then stops and says "if you ever want to stop say it okay?" "okay I will". He starts to lick and kiss down my stomach, while making eye contact with me. I look away getting nervous. "Look at me, if you don't look I stop" his accent, the way he was looking at me God I could feel myself getting wetter. He licked right above where my underwear starts, Kwon grabs my legs opening them wider, and licks my pussy through my underwear. He chuckles "You're so wet I can taste it through your underwear", he comes back up and starts kissing me aggressively, I taste myself on his tongue. I feel him grind on me through my underwear, I want to feel more of him so I start tugging on his sweats signaling him to take them off. He starts kicking them off, and I return to running and tugging my fingers in his hair, I pull him closer, I feel his dick through his boxers, and it's lightly grinding on my throbbing clit through my underwear. "Fuck" is all I'm able to muster taking a quick second to breathe before he pushes his lips back onto mine. One of his hands plays with my nipple pinching and rolling it in a fast motion, while the other starts to pull my underwear down, I pick my hips up so he's able to fully slip them off.

We pull away to catch our breath, "P-please Kwon" I'm basically begging him he knew what I wanted, but he wasn't going to give it to me so soon. He's still rolling my hard nipple getting me wetter, I'm probably leaking on his bed, he starts sucking on my right boob and licking my nipple while looking into my eyes. All of a sudden I feel Kwon open my legs and he starts going down again, but not before he sucked on my left nipple, and rubbed on the other, it felt so good I picked my hips up grinding on him, "You are so cute, so needy". He pushed my hips down and started to kiss around my pussy sucking on my thighs, and then sucking on my pussy lips. "Mmm" I start to whine, "Kwon I need more please", "You'll get what you want princess be patient" I can feel him smirk into my pussy.

I'm about to whine again when I suddenly feel his tongue inside me. I gasp "oh my god Kwon", he starts to move his tongue in and out, "d-deeper please" I whine, and he does just that, I start to grind on his face while he's tongue fucking me. He starts hitting my g-spot and I can feel my legs start to tremble. Kwon pulls out his tongue and moves up to my clit he slowly starts to lick, and suck on it. I hear and feel him moan into my pussy, it sends a vibration through my body, he goes back to sucking on my clit, slowly teasing me when he knew what I wanted. "Look at me and tell me what you want", he then gets his two fingers and starts circling my pussy hole, I can feel his fingers playing with my wetness. "I-I want m-more, I want you to make me cum". His eyes turn dark and he smiles with a look of confidence, "Yes ma'am" he starts to slowly stick his two fingers in my hole, stretching me, it felt so good, I could feel my legs starting to shake again.

With his other hand he grips my thigh and widens it more "look at this pussy taking my fingers so well" he chuckles and starts to go faster curling his fingers, he then moves down bringing his tongue to my clit circling it. I feel him start to slowly suck on my clit while his fingers continue to abuse my hole, he's making eye contact with me as he continues to suck. I start to grind on his face, he starts to suck faster, my legs, are now on top of his shoulders, my legs start shaking, and a knot starts forming in my stomach. I can feel him smirk while he sucks, and I can't help but squeeze his head with my thighs. That doesn't make him stop as he starts to finger me harder, he's groaning into my pussy, the knot in my stomach only growing stronger.

I open my legs again, Kwon pulls his face away from my clit, switching his gaze between my eyes and my pussy. I'm grinding on his fingers as he starts going even faster, my pussy clenches on his fingers, and he knows that I'm close. My back starts arching, I can't control my body anymore, I'm shaking, I can barely form a sentence let alone a word. "K-kwon I'm so c-close oh my god" I feel so out of breath, and my voice is shaky I can't control myself. Kwon gets his other hand and grips my neck, the knot in my stomach almost snaps. "I know you are close, c'mon princess don't be shy". He curls his fingers adding a third, and going even faster, I moan so loud I pray these walls are sound proof. "HOLY SHIT" my whole body starts shaking and Kwon is still gripping my neck forcing me to keep my eyes on his, he shows no signs of stopping.

I feel the knot in my stomach snap, it all feels so good, I start seeing stars, my legs are shaking, I try my hardest to calm down, but it's all so much and Kwon is still going. "I'm not stopping till you let it all out" he pulls me in and starts kissing me. I try to kiss back but he's winning and I can barely move my lips, the kiss is sloppy and heated. He hasn't stopped his fingers, and I keep moaning, I feel another release as he lets go of my neck and starts rubbing circles on my clit. I feel myself finishing again but this time it's messier as I'm squirting and all my juices are landing all over his stomach, all on his arm. Part of me was embarrassed and wanted to stop but it felt too good, and I could tell Kwon was really enjoying this. I feel the shaking start to slow down, my breathing slowly going back to normal. Kwon starts to pull his fingers out, and gives me a light kiss, he then gives me a small smile and asks "are you okay?". I slowly catch my breath and return a smile "I've never been better", he gets up and goes to the bathroom getting a towel so we could both get cleaned up.

When he returns we start to clean, and I put my pjs back on with his help, as I'm about to walk to the other bed he stops me by picking me up. He carries me to the other bed even tho it was only like 3 feet away. I simply laugh as he sets me down, and hands me a bottle of water, "It is a good thing I beat your friends and got the extra room so we could have this bed to sleep in". I laugh and roll my eyes "I guess it was", we both start to get cozy and settle under the covers, I use his arm as my pillow. Before going to sleep and turning the lights off we talk for a bit, both our voices start to get low, and we could feel the sleepiness taking over. "If our teams ever find out we're dead" I told him followed by a yawn. "I know, but I do not care" said with a hint of seriousness and playful tone. Before deciding it's time to sleep you look at him and say "goodnight Kwon, and good luck tomorrow cuz I'm kicking your ass, you better not go easy on me" you give him a light smile as you start to settle and close your eyes.

As you feel yourself fading into your sleep you hear Kwon give a light chuckle and reply "Goodnight princess, you too" he gives you a small kiss on the forehead, and with that turns the light off.

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: a lil workplace visit can’t be that bad, right?

warnings: cussing, links to pinterest. a lil short, sorry!

saint’s team radio 🎀: hiiiii there. thank you for all the love on virgo’s groove, i truly love each and everyone of you! hope you enjoy this, babies!

pls like, comment and reblog!

dividers from @cafekitsune

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series masterlist 🪩

Lewis had missed his wife, terribly so.

Often being reminded by most, that his companion was not next to him as much as she was the last two weeks. He never tired talking about her in any sense and to anyone who would listen. By now, she would’ve spoken about her students or a joke that her friends used to tell as she attended university many years ago. Possibly a song she was thinking about or a candy she tried from the hotel in Miami.

He had missed the bright smile she often displayed at anyone who was open to receiving it or whenever she spoke of her new friends. Lewis had realised she had quite the loud laugh, contradicting her quiet voice, and how she would laugh at his jokes, a quiet wheeze at first then a boisterous laugh following right after. He had also missed how she would slip into one of her many home languages whenever she spoke and how she would derail the conversation to explain every little thing in that specific language.

Surprisingly so, he liked seeing that she was spending his money, even after trying to convince her that it was totally okay. Lewis also liked how she would send little updates on her day just as he did as well, talking about how she’s constantly stopped in the streets for pictures and how shocked she always was that people recognised her.

He also liked the rambles she had whenever they got the chance to facetime. Making her blush at his words was always a sight to see and how she would try do it back but her giggles held her back.

Lewis missed Nadia. A lot.

Sitting in his hotel room in Barcelona, he stared at the suitcases that were waiting right by the door. He checked his carry on once again to check that the little gifts he got her were okay. The specific hoodie he was wearing still had faint scents of her perfume, making Lewis feel giddy to get home. Months ago, he would’ve always said that the world is his home but ever since he met Nadia, he could feel his smile get larger as his thoughts go on.

Managing to get a podium, just as he promised her, he remembered her excitement and astonishment when he explained how many he actually had. She went on to tell him that she’ll make celebratory baked goods for whenever he gets back. Lewis knew that he was distracted when he attended a dinner with some friends after the race, his phone couldn’t be separated from his hands. All that was on his mind was seeing her.

-

“I know we initially removed the second question from the assignment but the board brought it forward that it needs to be done.” As soon as Nadia finished her sentence, her year 12 students groaned loudly.

“It didn’t make sense to me either but because you’re my kiddies, I’ll research when I get home and just get a memo so you don’t have to worry. Even if you all write the same thing, it’s okay.” She assured, walking to her desk after handing out the ‘new’ assignment papers.

“Uh, Ms Brown. You said this can be typed out, right?” A hand that was raised asked. Before the teacher could answer, someone interjected.

“It’s Mrs Hamilton, Tash.” That made a few students laugh. Nadia would never get used to hearing herself being referred to that. Every time she even woke up in that house, it was unbelievable.

With a little chuckle, she put her pen down. “Thank you, Kim. But yes, it needs to be typed out and don’t forget to make a cover, everyone.” Picking up her pen once again, Nadia went on to work on the question that troubled the whole class.

Silence fell and all that was heard was faint music coming from some kid’s headphones as they worked on their assignment or their homework, Nadia never had an issue if they needed to complete other tasks from their other classes.

Glancing at the clock on her desk, there were at least two hours of school left but luckily, she only had a few classes that day and was able to go home early. An empty large mansion but it was home. Craving the vanilla macrons she made yesterday, Nadia was more than excited to get home.

It was also the day that she expected her husband back home from Spain. Mondays usually went slower than the usual but she pushed her excitement to the back of her head as she continued to work. There was still some time left with her favourite class so she relaxed in her seat.

Nadia’s phone kept buzzing with text messages as she typed away on her laptop, sending an apologetic look to the students who’s heads whipped at the distracting sounds. Picking it up, all she saw was messages from Maggie, the school office admin, sending through messages that basically implied that she was shaking, she was excited and constantly repeated ‘girllllll’.

The class was now interested in whatever was going on because Nadia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was nothing she was aware of unless the principal wanted to talk to her about something but that was even more confusing.

A knock echoed through the classroom and she gave the student closest to the door a signal to open it and he froze at the door, seemingly starstruck. All the kids then leaned outside their desks to see and they began screaming in excitement at whoever was at the door. The figure walked in the door and Nadia’s stomach dropped at the sight.

“Oh my days, Lewis Hamilton is in my class!”

-

After eventually calming down the class who were still shocked and buzzing at the fact that Lewis was there, he offered to take pictures with everyone and even brought them doughnuts that he had left outside the class in hopes to surprise them. He locked eyes with his wife and made his way to her, signalling to the kids that he’d be right back to take pictures.

Nadia threw her arms around his waist as soon as Lewis was close enough, he kissed through her wig then her forehead, completely aware that the kids were watching and recording. “I don’t wanna get fired, Lew.” Nadia spoke, facing away from her students.

“I had a word with the principal, you’re good.” He reassured, patting her back. Winking at her as he went back to the excited kids, she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She also realised how spontaneous he was because he really just showed up to her work like he forgot who he was.

Getting home was a bit of a challenge, the rest of the school caught wind of his appearance and that was a mission in itself. To Nadia’s luck, school was still in session and she could get home early with her husband by her side. The deal was that Lewis would come speak to the kids one day in exchange for his spontaneity.

Climbing out of the Range Rover that she drove herself to school in, Lewis held her hand to the front door where his suitcases were waiting to be let in. It felt all so domestic like they’ve done this a thousand times before, taking off their shoes right by the door and she immediately slipped into her slides. The home smelt like a mixture of her sweet perfume, cookies and the ocean scented incense she bought for the house.

“Welcome home!” Nads turned around after dropping all her things on the kitchen island to throw her arms around his neck for the physical touch they had been waiting for. They melted into the hug, faces digging into each other’s necks, engulfing each other with their warmth. The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity before letting go eventually. “That felt good, wow.” Lewis said, his eyes taking in every part of her face.

He had missed her so much.

“Right? It felt like a month apart. How are you feeling? Spain was something else.” Nadia smiled, still unable to look at him in his eyes. Before he could answer, he knew he couldn’t just outright say anything to her yet. Lewis couldn’t tell her that he’s falling for her so quickly, so much so that he wanted to shout it out to the world. He did that already, the world just doesn’t know that all of this isn’t real.

“I’ve been alright, just wanted to come back home and relax. Getting that podium though,” Lewis breathed out. “Please, you made it look flawless.” Nadia interrupted, with a ‘duh’ expression on her face. He couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that.

She walked further into the kitchen and he followed after her like a puppy, waiting for her to do anything. “I made you vegan vanilla macrons for your podium and my non-vegan ones are in a different lunch box.” Nadia tapped the lunch box labelled ‘vegan’ with her freshly done nails then placed it on the kitchen counter.

“Ohh shit, I forgot I got you something else as well!”

Nadia ran up towards the stairs, spewing out the words as Lewis watched her with a smile on his face, leaning his head on his hand. Deciding to make himself comfortable in the living room, he waited for her.

Quick steps of her sandals echoing throughout the main floor, she came through with a medium sized box in hand, a proud smile on her face as she plopped herself right next to him on the couch. “So. You know how I said that I love sourcing for archives in fashion or the latest pieces that are just tough to find?” Nadia started.

“Yeah…..” Lewis responded with a slight lift of his eyebrow.

“This is a gift I want to give to you since you did so good in Spain but I got it like days before the podium so I had to pray that you did good.” She added, unable to contain her smile as she handed the box to him. Sitting down quite close to each other, she watched as Lewis carefully ripped the gift wrap.

He was smiling before he fully opened his gift. “I can feel you just jumping’ in excitement.” Lewis said, his natural accent and voice coming into light. The same voice he used to when he felt right at home.

Eventually putting all the gift wrap to the side, he faced the box in curiosity, opening it and being prepared to see anything. “You’re joking.” Lewis said in shock, staring at Nadia who’s smile was brighter than the sun itself. “It was tough finding these but I do hope you like them, Lew.” She responded.

“These were made-“ “By Virgil, yep. I knew that you guys had a good friendship so when I came across these, they reminded me of you guys.” She informed and giggled at Lewis constantly looking back and forth at the shoes. The Nike x Louis Vuitton air force one was apart of a collection released in honour of Virgil Abloh, Lewis’ friend and Nadia’s inspiration in the fashion world.

Lewis couldn’t contain himself and stood up abruptly, pulling Nadia with him to wrap his arms around her and give her an even warmer hug. A bit shocked, Nadia quickly recovered and returned the same energy towards him. “Thank you, Nads, truly. Not just for the shoes but just…everything.”

“Anytime, pookie bear.” Nadia moved her head to look directly into his eyes, focusing on every crevice of her face. Looking down at her neck, he caught a glimpse of shining silver jewellery sitting pretty on her neck, only used to seeing gold pieces only.

“Is that 44 on your necklace?” He pointed it out, looking back and forth between her face and her jewellery. “Oh! Yeah, I wanted it to match my ring. The world is getting familiar with this face, might as well add to it.” Nadia said with a smug smile and Lewis had to collect himself but he realised he was right home.

Adding a little chuckle, he lowered his large hands from the middle of her back to her ass then her thighs, getting a yell out of her when she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Wanna get the neighbour familiar with you?” Lewis smirked, licking his lips at the same time.

“Let’s get right to it, Sir.” She responded, giggling as he started rushing to the bedroom, holding onto her tightly as they went up the stairs.

-

lewishamilton

lewishamilton a week filled with love and joy. canada, here we come ~

tagged: @/nadiahamilton

view all comments

nadiahamilton i look too good 🤭

lewishamilton you always do

nadiahamilton omg STAWWP 🥹

user dawg this is so unfair, you don’t get it

fencer my best friends 🥹

liked by lewishamilton

user mother and father

kehlani sleep with one eye open, mister

lewishamilton it’s sir

kehlani i’m still taking your wife, leprechaun 🫵🏽

user seeing you two in Canada!!

user this man is too gone, bridgerton level simp

user well duh, if you were with Nadia, you’d be too

lewishamilton this is true, she hung up the moon and the stars

user OOOOHHHHHH LEWISSSSSS 🙂‍↕️

chunks your home is so beautiful, thanks champ 🫡

user lewis is friends with the beta squad????

user they’re nadia’s friends

louisvuitton hope you loved your gift! 🤍

lewishamilton it was gifted by Nads so it was the best 🫶🏽

user you guys are so cute, it HURTS

canadagrandprix thee it couple

mercedesamgf1 has more stories about Nadia than the Spanish gp, we have to respect it

badgalriri got a problem? 🤨

user they got Riri clocking they asses 😭😭😭

nadiahamilton

nadiahamilton i’m the cooler one

view all comments

tyla you’re the coolest of them all 😝

nadiahamilton love you always!!

nellarose_ that french vanilla cake you made? signing you up for masterchef rn!

nadiahamilton girl pls 😭

user you guys remember when the wags called her tinkerbell? she literally is tinkerbell in real life 😭

user and she smells like money and sweet flowers ‼️

nataliatheedon come back to America rn

nadiahamilton canada’s the best i can do 😣

user i feel like a certain canadian rapper is gonna show up lol

user i’m from toronto and there’s a rumour that lewis’ people are blocking off that rapper from getting near nadia because he keeps reposting her pics lollllll

user no ways lewis actually has shooters???

user he’s Lewis, what did you expect? 😭

zendaya mother graced us with her presence once again

nadiahamilton love you Z 😚

louisvuitton 🤍🤍

sza hand in marriage?

lilymhe omg hiii, let’s redo monaco?

lewishamilton hi sweetheart

nadiahamilton hi my love

user PARENTS

saint’s notes 🪩: heyyyy babies! this is one is quite short lol but i hope you enjoyed! love u all 😚 also noticed the colour schemes for their insta posts? 🫡

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1

if your account is blank, that mean tumblr can’t find you!

[pomefioredove]

In my bones I know that Rook is the type of guy who loves to go exploring be it forest or man-made structures. With that in mind I have an idea for a fic:

MC!Reader & Rook Hunt making weekend dates out of exploring the unknown places on Sage Island. It's their little ritual that they take great joy in! From the restricted sections of Crowley's office to a small abandoned island off the coast they enjoy taking in sights meant for no-one else.

ROOK REQUEST!!! thank you I love him so muchhh... the fact that archeology becomes an interest of his is so adorable to me <3 rook baby let me take you out and tell you about the incan empire and dead languages and

summary: weekend dates with rook type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, french warning, fluffy and cute <3

"One thousand words, one thousand, can you believe that?" you ask, twirling a perfectly-sharpened pencil between your fingers. It had yet to even graze the surface of the paper in your lap.

What a waste of wood.

You slump, leaning against the rough bark of an oak tree. A movement in the foliage overhead sends a deluge of leaves onto your lap, coloring the white of the empty paper with vibrant shades of green.

Rook emerges from the verdure above with a graceful plunk at your side.

"Five hundred each, chéri," he says, picking a leaf out of your hair and ignoring the ones on the notebook.

You tilt your head to the side, watching as he scales the tree again. "Yes, but I was under the impression we'd do it together,"

"Ah, a marvelous idea!" his voice calls out from overhead. "But that can wait for later, non? Come up and see this robin's nest I've uncovered!"

You chuckle. Even with the deadline looming nearer, you couldn't help but indulge him.

Crowley's words still rung fresh in your mind: "Five hundred words on the evil of trespassing. Each!"

Admittedly, seeing the man actually get angry was both amusing and unsettling. You supposed digging around the secret chamber behind his office was pushing it, but how could you resist Rook's charming smile when he said he'd found a trap door and wished to explore it together?

How were you supposed to know that passage would end up in Crowley's office, anyway?

"Mm?" Rook's head pokes out from the leaves again. "Are you coming, Trickster?"

You had begun to fill out that nickname quite nicely.

You set aside the pencil and paper (still untouched) in favor of scaling the lowest branches of the tree. You'd become quite the climber since meeting Rook.

"Ah, the way you so carelessly toss aside your obligations, as if freeing yourself from the shackles of the modern world!" Rook sings, offering a hand to help you onto the branch he's sat atop.

You can't help a smile as he guides you onto the thick part of the branch in front of him. "It was rather symbolic, wasn't it?"

"Chéri, if only I had the time, I would write a poem for every little thing you do," he sighs dreamily. "Come, miel, join me in being wild."

He cups your chin and guides your gaze to a curve where two branches meet, only an arm's-length away. Nestled in the heart of it is a small, delicate, cup-shaped nest, filled with baby blue eggs.

"Très magnifique," he comments, his voice breathless and soft. "The miracle of life. A sign that spring has returned once more, putting Monsieur L'Hiver to rest."

"They are beautiful... will they hatch soon?"

"Ah, that depends on how you define "soon". Robins incubate for but two weeks," he says. "Soon for us, but half a lifetime for them..."

His ensuing sigh is soft and contented, almost distracting you from the feeling of his arms finding their way around your waist, and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Mm... I could stay here all day. Have you slept in a tree before, chéri?"

You've learned by now not to take such comments as jokes, although you're sure he already knows what the answer is.

You smile, your sweet tone tinged with the faintest hint of mischief. "No, not recently,"

"It has been a long time for me. Sometimes I fear I've become too domesticated... c'est bien I have you to bring out the wild animal in me again, hm?"

He chuckles to himself before promptly burying his face in the crook of your neck again, breathing you in.

You lean back into him, earning a little squeeze from his arms. Perhaps you could stay here all day, if not for...

"The essay..." you murmur.

Rook laughs again. "It can wait. I will gladly chance the ire of our headmage and my housewarden..." he clicks his tongue. "Taking risks for you is a delight I cannot help but indulge in."

[actiniumwrites]

MISTLETOE

synopsis: one year after your devastating breakup, you and neuvillette find yourselves under the mistletoe

characters: neuvillette x gn!reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: angst to fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of breakups, the steambird being exploitative

notes: woooo first christmas fic for this year is done! this definitely could’ve been way longer, but i’ve got like four more to write and i’m pretty happy with how this turned out. this concept was also originally going to go to wriothesley but i think neuvillette suits it better :)

The first thing that makes it really set in that the holiday season has arrived in Fontaine is the pesky decorations.

Everywhere you go there seems to be some sort of string of lights, faux presents, and little snowmen. Don’t get it twisted, it isn’t like you’re some Scrooge when it comes to the holidays, but it hasn’t quite been the same ever since, well, ever since it happened.

Your shoes click and clack against the brick flooring of Fontaine’s main city floors. The same ones that are beginning to ice over from the cruel frost of winter air. And it doesn’t exclude you either, not with the way it snips at your nose and makes it hard to breathe even when you’ve barely stepped foot outside.

“Good morning!” Charlotte calls to you as you walk past her, a hand eagerly waving you down with that mischievous glint in her eyes. Part of you wants to duck behind a bush and pretend you don’t see her, but you’re better than that.

You send her an apologetic smile and pull your coat a little closer. You slow your pace a bit but don’t stop moving as you respond, “Sorry, Charlotte. I know I said I’d interview soon, but I really can’t today.”

“C’mon, the whole world wants to know the tragic holiday tale of you and Monsieur Neuvillette! Let it be a present to the subscribers of the Steam Bird!” She pushes your buttons carefully, camera ready to strike incase you change your mind or make any comment on the matter.

If you hadn’t had any reason to turn that interview down beforehand, you certainly do now.

Even though you hate the way she looks so disappointed when you walk away, it serves all of Fontaine right for meddling with people’s private business. Seriously? Did everything have to be entertainment to these people?

You scoff as you walk away, mumbling something about forgetting that interview if that’s what she wanted all along. Naturally, she doesn’t hear it, nor does she get to see your sour reaction as you desperately walk away from her and that stupid camera.

When you finally make it to the Palais Mermonia, you check in quickly and one of the Melusines, Liath, hands you a few letters that had been dropped off for you prior to your arrival. One carelessly slips from your cold hand before you can even register it happening. When you pick it up, your body had shifted ever so slightly and for a second, just a split second, you shoot a longing glance at the doors to your right. The doors that led to his office. To him.

“Is something the matter? Do those letters not belong to you?” Liath interrupts with a puzzled expression as she tilts her head.

You snap out of your thoughts and quickly scramble to compose yourself. You hold the stack of letters close to your chest as you take a step back and awkwardly laugh, “Oh uh no! I just um, got a little distracted, sorry.”

“You got distracted looking at the Iudex’s…doors?”

You hesitate, mouth agape and unsure of how to respond, “I uh, yeah I guess I was.”

“Interesting,” she says suspiciously, squinting her lilac eyes at you, “he asked about you this morning, actually.”

“He did?” you say all too fast, perking up at the mention of his name. It’s pathetic, really. You internally thank the Archons for Melusines not being all too good at understanding human behavior.

“Yes,” she answers simply, crossing her small arms one over the other.

“And um,” you push further, not realizing the way you eagerly take a step forward, “what did he say?”

“Nothing. He merely inquired when you would be coming in today.”

You can’t help the disappointment in your voice as a quiet, “Oh,” slips out. Part of you wants to ask if there was anything else, maybe some sort of expression or tone of voice she caught, but you hold yourself back.

Get it together. It’s almost been a year.

One tragic year since the two of you split. One long, tragic year since you wished you could’ve worked something out, even if it meant you could’ve had a little more time together. It was mutual, but truthfully, you never wanted him gone. You only wish you could’ve realized it at the time.

“Thank you,” you nod and walk away while trying to hide the dismay you felt. She doesn’t say anything else.

As you walk to the other end of the hall, you notice someone had placed some illuminated garland around the frame of your door and a miniature Christmas tree in the corner a few feet away. It isn’t as extravagant as the decorations they had placed around Neuvillette’s door, but you appreciate it nonetheless.

The inside is a lot less spirited and looks like your normal dreary office. You pay no mind to it as you get to work right away, trying desperately to keep the interaction between Neuvillette and Liath out of your head. You even keep the door to your office open a little bit, letting the hushed voices in the main corridor fade into white noise while you scribbled away at some documents for the court.

And it works. You don’t even notice eight hours pass until it becomes too dark to see what you’re writing. Nor do you notice that there isn’t anyone outside anymore and that the only noise filling the space is the quiet holiday tune your phonograph plays from across the room.

You sigh and set down the pen from your cramped hand. It was December 23rd. Two days before Christmas and here you were, alone and with nothing to do for the holidays but working away in a cold office.

It makes you frown the longer you think about it. So you stand quickly, shutting off the lamps in the room and placing everything away in their files for the night. Quietly, you exit the room and lock the doors behind you as you begin to head out for the night thinking that perhaps you could go and at least treat yourself to a meal or some shopping.

You don’t expect to bump into someone the moment you turn around.

“I’m so sorry!”

“My apologies.”

You both rush at the same time.

You freeze when his deep voice hits your ears and you instantly take a step backward.“Neuvillette..?” you whisper, glancing up into the familiar blue eyes that belong to the man you once called yours. The question is more to yourself than to him. Almost as if you can’t believe he’s actually standing in front of you.

He clears his throat tensely and mirrors you in taking a step back, “Sorry, I was unaware anyone else was still here.”

“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve watched where I was going,” you say, eyes not straying from his, “and it isn’t too surprising, I mean, it isn’t like I have anything to be doing for the holidays since…nevermind.”

Neuvillette catches what you were about to say but saves you the headache of having to do any sort of explaining. Instead, he motions in front of him and pulls the keys out from his pocket, “Shall we go? It’s getting rather late. I can lock the doors behind us.”

Us. It’s weird hearing that again.

You wordlessly nod and follow his lead. Like the gentleman he always was, Neuvillette opens the door and lets you out first. You stand a few feet away by the small set of stairs as he locks it quickly. Gently, you reach your hand out from under the overhang and feel small bits of frost falling onto your hands.

“It’s snowing,” you say wistfully, admiring the delicate snowflakes falling upon your palms. Neuvillette turns to look at the sky as he walks up to stand next to you. Peeling off one of his navy blue gloves, he lets the snow reach him too.

“A rare sight for Fontaine,” he hummed with a small but warm smile on his face. Fontaine didn’t usually get cold enough to the point of snowing. It had been a long time since you had seen it either.

He turns to look at you the same time you turn to look at him. A gentle laugh falls from your lips but it stops the moment he points to something above you, “I believe this is mistletoe. I’m sure the Melusines placed this here. One of them mentioned learning about it in a book to me the other day.”

You’re surprised how conversational he is with you.

“We don’t have to,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. There’s hurt in it, and you have a hard time disguising it. It’s evident by the way his eyes soften as he looks at you.

Neuvillette exhales as he looks to the floor and then back to you, “You know I don’t like to break traditions.”

You take a step closer. He does the same.

“Are you sure? It’s been a year since…you know? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—“

Neuvillette cuts you off by gently placing his lips on yours, interlocking eagerly. They’re warm and soft like a fireplace as they melt away the frost from your body. You reciprocate easily once you get over the initial shock, wrapping your hand around his neck to bring him in closer.

When you pull away, you feel a burning sensation in your throat and a tingling feeling in your eyes. You don’t know why, but the kiss makes you want to cry.

Neuvillette doesn’t distance himself either. Instead he places a gentle hand on your back as soon as you nod, pulling you into his affectionate embrace. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

[thetriumphantpanda]

close to you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Nine

Chapter Summary | A week of not hearing from Javi since he ran out has you tearing your hair out, so you throw yourself into your work as a distraction, with catastrophic consequences.

Chapter Warnings | mentions of drugs and the drug trade, alcohol consumption, threatening language, violence, blood, descriptions of a head injury and concussion, Javier Peña to the rescue, soft!Javi.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | I am forever appreciative of how patient you guys are for updates of this series! Thank you for hanging in there whilst my muse and creativity ebbs and flows, I love you all! We're getting towards the conclusion of this little story, with only a few chapters left so I hope you guys are still enjoying this! If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You wonder when staring at the work in front of you might actually yield something worth writing about. It’s all you’ve done since you picked up this stupid story and decided to chase it. Staring at the pages on your desk has become all the more common in the week since Javi ran out on you. He’s avoided your calls to his phone, you’ve not seen him around town, and the one time you decided to call the house, Chucho answered and with the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, told you he wasn’t in but that he promised he’d ask him to call you when he got back. That had been two days ago, so you’d practically given up all hope of ever hearing from him again.

For the first couple of days, you’d cursed yourself, wondering why you’d kept any of that stuff in the first place. Newspaper clippings and annotated notes about everything he and his team had done in Colombia. You didn’t need it anymore, thesis done, completed, and with a better mark than you could ever have hoped for. But until you’d seen him in the flesh, knew he was back for good and safe in Texas, it was the only way to feel close to him. Stupid for sure. But then the anger had set in - he’d no right to rifle through your drawers, pick up your notebooks and thumb through them. The barrage of different emotions was hard to deal with, and at the very base level, you missed him, you wanted him back, and you wanted to explain everything to him - that’s incredibly hard when he won’t answer his fucking phone though.

Turning your attention back to your work, you try and focus. You’ve met dead end after dead end with this stupid story and there really is only one place left for you to go. If it’s not Tyler then it has to be someone else in the family that’s involved. You can’t imagine it’s head of the family, so that really only leaves Tyler’s brother. It might be stupid and you might make a terrible enemy out of the mayor’s family, but there’s something else going on here and whatever it is, you’re going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how.

You can still never get over the size of the Johnson family home. Richard and his wife had two sons, one their pride, the other, not so much, but if you looked at their house, you’d think they had at least twelve children. No family needed this many rooms, you think, as you walk up the driveway.

It’s the early afternoon and you can see Garrett’s car parked in front of the house. Tyler will be at work, as will Richard, and you’re pretty sure their mother is never at home. You don’t really know what it is she does, but it’s some form of charitable work that involves travelling more than it does time at home.

You take a deep breath and ring the bell, waiting the appropriate amount of time before ringing it again. It’s a huge house after all, it must take a while to get from anywhere to the front door. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Garrett is stood in front of you, dressed in dress pants and a shirt that has the arms rolled up to the elbows. He smiles at you and opens the door a bit wider, invites you in - it’s much warmed than the reception you got from his brother.

“Lovely to see you,” He smiles, guiding you through the foyer and into the kitchen, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thank you.” You smile back, waiting for him to put a glass in front of you, topped up with water and fresh ice.

“I assume you’re here from the paper?” He asks, leaning cooly against the kitchen counter.

“That’s right,” You nod, sipping at the water, “Has Tyler spoken to you recently?”

Garrett shakes his head, “No, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”

You hum, nodding your head, thankful that you have the upper hand of surprise still - that this part of the family don’t know you’re sniffing around looking for a reason that one of their houses was used as some form of drug den.

“How have you been since Dylan died?” You ask, “I know you were really good friends.”

It’s a question that makes sense, they were very good friends, and although it’s been a while, you’re hoping your feigned concern for his mental welfare might make him open up.

“It’s been hard,” He starts, “He was my best friend, and to suddenly not have him around anymore…” He trails off, “I miss him.”

You nod, hoping the look of concern you think you’ve got across your face is projecting enough to make him feel like he can trust you.

“Was he the reason your dad has started being heavier with drugs in town?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Garrett nods, “He saw how fucked up it made me to lose my friend and decided enough was enough, that someone needed to do something to fix the trouble we’ve been having in town for years.”

There’s another nod from you, “Makes sense,” You offer, “Not really working very well though, is it?”

“These things take time.” He offers, in that perfectly practiced politician way that they always answer things.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase Garrett,” You sigh, “That house in town that got raided recently? We’ve been looking into it and it all leads back to you, to your family, and it doesn’t matter who I ask, no-one knows why that place was being used as a drug den, but someone in this family knows exactly why.”

Garrett scoffs, “You’ll want to talk to my brother about that.”

“Well, that’s the thing Garrett,” You speak, “I did, and that man is clean as a whistle, he hasn’t taken drugs in at least a year, and the last time he was at the house, it was clear of anything,” You shrug, “I can’t imagine your dad being involved in anything like this, so that just leaves you.”

You can see his demeanour change almost immediately, he’s uncomfortable, moving from foot to foot and you can see the start of perspiration on his forehead.

“You’re telling me you think I’m involved in something?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

He pushes himself from the counter he’s been leaning against, takes a few steps towards you, trying to intimidate you, but you know you’re pushing in the right direction, he wouldn’t be reacting like this if you were barking up the wrong tree.

“Where’s your evidence?” He asks.

“Maybe you’ll have to buy the paper to find out?”

“Listen here you little bitch,” He spits, pointing his finger in your face, “You ought to be careful about this, you think this is just me?” He asks, stepping even closer to you, making your breath catch in your throat, “You think you publish this story and it’ll just be me you have to worry about? You’re dead wrong, publish whatever story you’re planning and you’ll have a rain of fucking fire to deal with from people you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.”

“So, it was you then?” You can help but smirk, having caught him redhanded in a confession, the recorder in your bag that you’d pressed on before he’d answered the door your little secret.

You watch some kind of fury flick over his eyes as he grits his teeth, his hands pressed into your shoulders to push you back, “Stupid little girl.” He says as he pushes, but it’s a lot harder than you’d anticipated and it makes you lose your balance, falling backward.

It all happens in a blur, the side of your head makes contact with the corner of the kitchen island, pain spreading almost immediately across your forehead, vision blurring as your backside hits the floor. You’re sort of aware of something warm and wet dripping down your cheek, which you brush away with the back of your hand as you try and quickly reorientate yourself. Then you feel a hand wrap around your arm and a presence next to you, not quite all there enough to push it away.

“Oh shit,” You hear Garrett speak next to you, “Shit, shit shit,” He’s touching your face now, “I'm sorry, I- oh god - I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

You groan, letting your head tip back against the cool marble of the kitchen island, “Am I-” You struggle to speak, “Am I bleeding?”

“Oh god-” Garrett mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”

And then he’s gone, the sound of his shoes clipping against the floor as he runs to God knows where, leaving you disorientated and bleeding on his kitchen floor. You know you need to get out of here, slowly moving yourself just enough to push yourself to your feet, hands gripping the counter as you reach for your bag. You’re dizzy as you walk towards the door, looking down at the floor because as soon as you look up, you feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out. You can see yourself leaving small drops of blood on the floor as you move - a trail that follows you all the way down the driveway and to your car. You fumble with your keys, dropping them on the floor. When you bend over to try and pick them up, your vision goes fuzzy before you can grab them from the ground. You know you can’t drive like this.

In the haze of confusion you look around, a little way down the street you spot a phone box. It’s slow going, but you make it, pulling open the door, leaning against the glass wall, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and ease the ache behind your eyes. You shuffle through your bag to find your wallet, pulling out a handful of coins that you push into the slot. You think about phoning your father, but realise there’s only one person you want right now. Despite having his number memorised, you pull the worn card from your wallet, mainly to make sure that the haze of confusion doesn’t make you dial the wrong number. You drag your thumb over the faded number, watching a smear of blood cover it, and then press the number into the dialling pad, listening to it start to ring.

“Please Javi,” You whisper, “Please answer.”

You’re about to lose hope, expecting the phone to ring out, but through some form of divine intervention, the ringing stops and you hear the voice you’ve craved all week.

“Peña?”

“Oh Javi,” You sigh out in relief, feeling the prick of tears behind your eyes, “Help me.”

“Cariño?”

“Javi please, I need you.”

“What’s happened?” You can hear his tone change, concern and something else you can’t quite place, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I just-” The ache behind your eyes is making you tired, “I need you to come and get me.”

“Has something happened?”

“Yes,” You reply, “I’m so tired Javi, I can’t drive.”

“Where are you?”

“The mayor’s house,” You reply, “Well- no - I'm in the phone box down the road.”

“You stay right there, okay?” He’s frantic on the other end of the phone, you can tell.

“Please hurry.”

He’s beside himself as he drives from the ranch and into town. A week of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings towards you, and you’re hurt. He still can’t think about what happened. He doesn’t even know why he’d answered the phone this time - he’d avoided answering anything that had come through on his phone since he’d run out on you before, but there’s something today that made him pick up, and by God is he pleased he did. He doesn’t think he could have lived with himself if he’d let you call and left you hurt and injured in the middle of nowhere.

He thinks of all the other women throughout his life that he's let down. Lorraine and the way he left her, Helena and the way she risked herself for him, for the promise of a fucking visa, and paid the price. Most women in his life ended up hurt, emotionally or physically, and it was becoming evident to him that you were no different.

Not knowing, and not caring about how many speed restrictions he breaks, he makes it to the phone box in record time, cutting the engine and slamming the door behind him. He takes four or five big steps to the phone box, tearing open the door to find you slumped on the floor, eyes fluttering open at the disturbance. He takes a deep breath, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Cariño, it’s me,” He speaks softly, “Can you hear me?”

He takes your face in his hands, turns it towards the quickly fading light, finding the cut on your forehead. The blood has dried and scabbed over, but there’s a trail of crusting blood down your cheek and side of your neck. He thinks of Helena in this moment, about draping his jacket over her naked body, cradling her to his body, reluctantly handing her over to a paramedic, not knowing what would come of her.

“Javi?” Your voice is quiet, but your eyes are looking at him, glassed over, but at least you recognise him.

“That’s me,” He speaks softly, “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” You mumble, and then you shake your head in his hands, “Head hurts.”

“Shall we move you?” He asks, knowing he can’t leave you here, “Come here.”

Letting go of your face, he runs his palms down your arms to where your hands are clasped together. He gently pries open your fingers and takes hold of the card there, holding it up. It’s the card he’d given you with his number on, edges torn and worn. He can clearly see where you've run your fingers over the printed text, and where it's sat in your purse, pulled out and slotted bacon whenever you've needed him. He tries to take it, but your hand clasps over it again.

“Don’t,” You whisper, “It’s mine, don’t take it.”

“It’s okay, Cariño,” He replies, “I’ll keep it safe, just let me have it whilst we get you into the car.”

“My keys,” You mumble as he stands up, leaning down despite the protest of his knees and his back, “I dropped them.”

He’s scooping you up, not quite able to carry you, but able to lean you against his side to walk you to the passenger side of his truck.

“Where did you drop them?” He asks, settling you into the passenger seat, leaning across you to clip your seatbelt in.

“My car-” Your head lolls to the side, eyes hooded as you look at him, “On the ground.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, shutting the door gently. He finds your keys on the ground by your car, and then after checking that the doors are still locked, he shoves the keys into his pocket and focuses his attention back to you.

The drive out of town is slower, Javi conscious that he doesn’t want to jostle you too much. Each corner he turns makes you groan. He had considered taking you to your own home, but he decides instead to take you back to the ranch. He pulls up, noticing the lights on in the living room. He knows he’s going to have questions from his father, but he doesn’t worry about that, instead he focuses on getting you out of the truck and into the house.

There’s a look from Chucho when he bursts through the front door, but Javi gives him a clipped shake of his head and instead walks you up the stairs and into his room. He sits you down on the side of the bed, kissing your forehead as he grabs some supplies from his bathroom - a warm, damp washcloth and his bag of first aid supplies, put together by Chucho when he’d come back to the ranch - his dad not convinced he wouldn’t injure himself with the manual labour.

“Hey, cariño?” He speaks softly, on his knees in front of you, “Look at me?”

You do, but your eyes are barely open. He works quickly, wiping away the crusted blood from your face first before he turns his attention to the actual cut. Once he’s cleaned it a little, he can see it’s not as deep as he’d anticipated. He brushes it with an antiseptic wipe, soothing you when it stings enough to make you gasp, and then covers it with a small plaster.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he eases you back on the bed, head down on his pillows.

“What for?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair from your face.

“Scaring you off.”

“Oh hermosa,” He breathes, feeling guilt pool in his stomach, nut not ready to quite face the conversation of what really made him run that night, “I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

He listens to you groan in approval, moving your body to get a little more comfortable.

“What happened today?” He asks quietly, trying to keep you awake so he knows who did this to you.

“Went to the house,” You speak, punctuated with a yawn, “Asked Garrett about the house.”

It’s almost like you get a second wind, trying to sit up, but he knows you need to stay still, so he gently pushes you back down.

“It’s him Javi,” You groan, “He’s the one dealing the drugs.”

“Shhhhh,” It’s the only thing he can think to do, “Just rest, cariño, we can talk later.”

Javi sits there for longer than he needs. You’re softly snoring within minutes, but he still sits there to make sure you’re out for the count. When he’s sure you’re settled and still breathing, he heads downstairs, ignoring his father’s knowing look as he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Javi shrugs, “I’m not sure,” He answers honestly, “It’s new.”

“Not that new,” Chucho huffs, “You were always shit at sneaking around,” He picks up his own drink, “Saw you after my birthday.”

Javi tips his head back and can’t help but chuckle because it’s true, he was never good at keeping things from his dad. He just hopes you’ve both done a better job at keeping things from your parents.

“You know what you’re doing with her?”

It’s a question he doesn’t really know how to answer, mulling over the answer in his mind before he lets his mouth speak.

“I just know I want to keep her safe,” He speaks, “And that I think I might love her.”

Javi watches as Chucho’s mouth grows into a smile, a small nod given in his direction.

“Will she be okay?”

Javi nods, “I think so yes, hit her head pretty hard, but I think after she’s slept she’ll be okay.”

Chucho pushes himself from his chair, draining his almost-empty cup. He puts it in the sink and then puts a warm hand on Javi’s shoulder with a squeeze.

“I just want you to be happy, finally,” He says, “That’s all that matters.”

Javi watches as he walks away, off to his room to sleep, and speaks into the silence of the empty kitchen once he’s gone, “Thanks, dad.”

[goingmerryfics]

HELLO, I was seeing that you were open to requests and I've had this in my head for a long time and I would really like to see something about this, a reader who has a huge scar on his face that is literally ugly, they got it as a child, apart from the fact that it shows part of the teeth of how serious it was and for this reason the reader wears a mask for fear of being told things about them face, I'm sorry if it's something explicit just that sometimes I feel like I don't explain myself

Reader with a scar - Luffy & Penguin

Content: reader is referred to as a ‘guy’ and a ‘dude’, reader wears a face mask, can be read as platonic, face scarring due to a past accident not specified, fluff and reassurance, a few mentions of Shachi in Penguin's part.

Notes* Hey there! There wasn't a character specified for this ask, so I chose two that I'm less experienced with to write out this prompt with :) male reader because of the pronouns used in the ask! I got really interested in this prompt right away and wrote it immediately upon receiving the ask and absolutely had to post it now so I apologize if the formatting is wonky! I'm on mobile haha

Luffy

When you first met Strawhat Luffy, it was while he was stopped at your home island along his grand adventure

You'd never really paid much attention to pirates and their lives- you had your own to live and figure out anyway

But as you and Luffy became closer- first as acquaintances, then as temporary allies, and then as friends as he boldly declared it in a short amount of time, you started to really like the guy

He'd only asked you about the mask you wore once. But the second you tried to answer him, he was distracted by dinner. After that, it was if he'd forgotten all about his question

It was kind of nice that way, not needing to worry about constant pestering or comments about it

Luffy truly didn't give a shit what you wore on your face at all. He cared about you (and your food, of course)

Luffy had a way of making you feel as if you could trust him to see your face. What you've kept hidden for most of your life, after a terrible accident had, in your opinion, ruined your life

But Luffy's care for you was unlike anything you've ever felt before. Luffy made you feel safe, protected, and just a little anxious at how willing he was to throw himself in harm's way to help you, the appointed new friend

One evening, you decide that you do in fact want to talk to him about your past. It's a decision you've been thinking over for a while, but actually getting up and moving to Luffy's room is such a sudden action, and then you're suddenly seeking him out in the dead of night on his ship to tell him about your scar.

The Thousand Sunny was still docked peacefully at the edge of the south side of your island, where you had originally met them what felt like so long ago. In reality, it had only been about a week since the Strawhats arrived, and yet it felt like so much longer in the chaos.

Their gangplank was pulled up, but before you could start trying to climb the ship's side, you spot Luffy out on the deck- evident by the straw hat on his head.

You call out his name, and he turns right away. With a grin quickly spreading on his face, he hops off the sunny and onto the grassy island floor. He calls your name happily.

“What are you doing over here? Is something wrong?” He asks.

You tell him it's not that, and he picks up on your unease.

“Well, what is it? It's hard to tell but you look like something's bothering you. Are you hungry?”

You shake your head, and you begin to explain. You tell him about your accident, about how your face was scarred and disfigured. You tell him about your upbringing, how hard it was to fit in with the other kids while you looked like that.

You can feel yourself getting emotional. Luffy can hear it in your voice, too. He calls your name in a stern tone- one he only seems to use when he gets serious.

“Listen, I don't care about all that crap.” He speaks. And though his words are blunt, you know he means them in the best way.

“I like you. You're a really nice guy, and you fight really well. So what else matters? You think I care if you've got a scar on your face?”

He stares at you, and you feel it in the center of your chest.

“You should feel free to do whatever you want! If you want to wear your mask then that's fine. But if you don't, then take it off! And if people don't like it, that's their problem! If they don't want to get to know you because of what your face looks like, then they're the ones that are missing out!”

You can feel tears in your eyes. There's something about the way Luffy says- no, declares it so passionately that leaves no doubt in your mind of his pure fondness for you.

Through your tears, you can see Luffy's smile, and your heart soars.

Penguin

You'd been a Heart Pirate for a short amount of time, but somehow you had made quick friends with many people on the Polar Tang- one of them being the man who called himself, ‘Penguin’ with the hat to prove it

There was something about him that was so easy to click with. Maybe it was your shared sense of humor, or the fact that you found it hilarious watching him and his partner in crime Shachi get into trouble for pulling pranks around your Captain (for the millionth time)

You weren't the only person on the crew who wore a full face mask, either. So while he was curious and questioned it in the beginning, one word from you to leave it alone and he backed off. Surprisingly.

Still, you definitely caught him eyeing you at times. The urge to pull the mask off your face to see what you were hiding was strong in him, but you two were friends and he wouldn't do that to you

One evening, Shachi had been pressing you just a little too much about the matter and he'd said, “What, are you ugly or something under there?”

Which earned a swift smack to the back of his head from Penguin, chastising him for saying something that insensitive

He'd noticed the way your teeth clenched, how tense you got. It had obviously hit home, and he made Shachi apologize for his rude joke right then and there

After that though, he found himself wondering why. Why did you think you were ugly? What were you hiding? Did you actually have a reason to be insecure, or was it something more?

He cared about you. He didn't want you to feel like you couldn't be yourself around them- the Heart Pirates were your family now, and a proper family didn't hurt each other for something so miniscule.

You had gotten over the comment, but Penguin had already begun his mission.

It was late into the evening. The chores were done for the day, and Penguin wanted to catch you before you went to bed. He wasn't really sure what he was gonna do or say, but he knew he wanted to address it before the worry drove him to insomnia.

He searches the halls for you and eventually finds you in the common room. He calls your name cheerfully, thankful that you're alone here- at least for the time being.

You greet Penguin, looking up from what you'd been doing. He takes a seat nearby and starts to make idle chatter, asking you about your day, telling you a bit of gossip, smiling when he gets you to laugh.

Then he clears his throat and switches gears, moving on to the conversation he really came here for.

“So, uh… There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You watch him fidget for a minute. He's not good with feelings at all, and he's trying to figure out how to bring this up without accidentally offending you. Eventually, he finds the words.

“So… About what Shachi said a while back. I was kinda worried about it.”

You quickly assure him that it was fine, that Shachi apologized and he only meant it as an, albeit bad, joke.

“Yeah, but… I don't know. It looked like it really bothered you. I hope you don't think that, like, we would think you're ugly or something! Whatever you look like under there, you're still the same cool dude we know. Nothing would change that. I guess I just wanted to say that.” Penguin shrugs.

You're not sure what to say to that. Your initial reaction is bitter- to insist that actually they would think you're ugly if they could see your face. But something stops you, and you get stuck just choking on your words.

“Look, I'm just saying, it bothers me to think that you don't like the way you look. I'm not saying you have to show me your face or anything, but just… If you choose to take your mask off one day, I hope you know that we'd love you all the same. You'll always be our family, no matter what you look like.”

You nod, because it's all you can bring yourself to do in the moment. It's nice, hearing that reassurance.

Penguin quickly changes the subject to try and dissipate the tension in the room made by the serious conversation, going on about something stupid Shachi had done that got him into some shit with the Captain earlier, which makes you laugh.

His words stick to your heart -You'll always be our family, no matter what you look like- and you know that when you do decide to show yourself to them, that you'll be alright.

[atzjieun]

personal stylist

summary | san helps jieun before she goes out

circa | august 2024

contains | 1.1k words, fluff, implied nudity at the beginning, jisan are just cute 

notes | i honestly didn’t think i was going to finish this anytime soon but i started using a writing sprint bot and it actually really helped 😭 but i hope you guys enjoy! 

taglist | @teezingsiyeon @moonkyeom @itzynabi 

San walked out of the bathroom, a towel around his neck that he used to dry the few stray droplets of water falling from his hair.  

On the other side of the room was Jieun, sitting at the desk with her phone propped up like a mirror. A straightening iron rested on top as Jieun sprayed heat protectant all over her hair.

“Choi San, put a shirt on!” she exclaimed, seeing the older boy in the corner of the screen. 

He grinned sheepishly, opening his drawer to pull out a shirt. “My bad.” After slipping it over his head, he rubbed his hair with a towel to get rid of the excess water. San looked over at the girl, quietly watching as she sectioned her hair before picking up the straightener, using it to curl her hair. 

Curiously, he walked closer to her, taking a seat on the bed beside the desk. 

“What’s the special occasion?” he asked with a small tilt of his head. “You never curl your hair.” 

Without looking at him, Jieun shrugged. “I don’t know. I just felt like it.” 

“Are you going out?” 

She nodded, continuing to curl her hair piece by piece while he watched. “Wooyoung-oppa asked if I wanted to try out a restaurant he heard about. Apparently they have really good steak.” 

“Just the two of you?” 

��I guess so.” 

San stood up, slowly reaching in front of the girl before carefully taking the tool out of her hand.

“Here, let me help.”

“It’s ok, I can do it myself.” She looked over at him, reaching for the straightener, though he held it out of her reach.

“It’s fine, I got it,” he responded, taking a section of hair. “Besides, I know you hate curling the back of your head.”

She looked at him through the reflection of her phone, watching the older boy’s concentrated face as he carefully curled each section of her hair before placing it over her shoulder to keep it out of the way. 

“Where’d you learn how to curl hair?” 

Upon her question, a small smile made its way onto San’s face. 

“I have an older sister, remember? She’d complain her arms were tired and make me do her hair for her,” he chuckled. “Plus, I’ve been watching the stylists curl your hair for the last- what? Six years? I think I’ve picked up some things in that time.” 

Jieun nodded, continuing to watch as he curled her hair through her phone screen.

“What restaurant are you guys going to?” San asked. 

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. He wanted to keep it a surprise.” 

The older boy nodded, quickly glancing at her reflection before looking back to her hair. “You guys have been hanging out a lot.” 

Jieun thought back to all her recent hangouts with the boy. Just the night before Wooyoung had come over to their room to watch a movie with her, but surely they hadn’t been hanging out so much that it was worth pointing out?

“Making up for lost time, I guess,” she eventually answered, slight confusion in her voice at the sudden comment. 

“Did he ever tell you why?” 

The girl froze for a moment, glancing at the phone screen to see San watching her, having temporarily stopped curling her hair to gauge her reaction. After a second of hesitation, she slowly shook her head. 

“No…” she answered slowly, shaking her head immediately afterward and giving a tight-lipped smile. “But…it’s fine. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.” 

Before she could look at San’s reaction, a notification on the top of her phone screen distracted her. Jieun reached forward and grabbed her phone, opening her messages to see what she’d been sent.

Wooyoung oppa: You almost ready?

She read the message over a couple times, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she tried to decide what to say. A chuckle behind her made her raise her head despite the fact that she couldn’t see her reflection.

“I’m almost done, don’t worry,” San said, having read the message over her shoulder. 

Jieun smiled, humming as she turned back to her phone. 

Me: Yeah, I’ll be done in a bit

Without waiting for a reply, Jieun locked her phone and placed it face-down on the desk before adjusting her posture. She let out a small sigh, waiting patiently as San continued on her hair. 

A couple minutes later, San placed the straightener back down on the desk. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing out the curls before placing her hair over her shoulders. 

“Alright, all done,” he said, taking a step back. 

Jieun stood up, walking over to the mirror to see the results. The moment she saw her reflection, a wide smile spread across her face. 

“You’re better at curling my hair than I am,” she commented, brushing a few parts of her hair. Jieun turned to the older boy, who watched her with a fond smile. “Thank you, oppa.” 

San shook his head as he walked up to her, patting her on the head before moving back to his bed. 

“You should get changed now. Don’t want to keep Wooyoung waiting too long, do we?” 

Jieun immediately nodded and without waiting, turned back and opened her drawers. She looked through her clothes for a couple seconds before picking out a few pieces and throwing them over her shoulder. With one final smile in San’s direction, Jieun retreated to the bathroom. 

She emerged a couple minutes later, wearing a white dress with a brown leather jacket over it. San watched as she walked around the corner with a sheepish smile, brushing herself off. She looked at him expectantly.

“Give us a spin, Eunnie,” he said with a grin. Jieun laughed as she walked in a circle, placing her hands on her hips. San raised his hand to give the girl a thumbs up. “Tell Wooyoung to have you back by 11.” 

She rolled her eyes lightheartedly, shaking her head at the boy. “You sound like Hongjoong-oppa.” Without waiting for a response, she reached for her bag and one of the room keys before slipping her shoes on. Before walking toward the door, she waved. “Bye, oppa.” 

“Have fun~” San sang, smirking to himself as she disappeared from sight.  

The moment he knew she was out of the room, San immediately went to his contacts and pressed on one, holding the phone up to his ear. After a couple rings, a “hello?” from the other side sounded through his phone’s speakers.

“Jongho, remember what you were telling me the other day? I believe you now.”  

[asarajaa]

Hola reinona, hermosa, guapísima y todos los elogios hermosos que se te pueden ocurrir. Can you please, PLEASE write some headcanons or maybe a one-shot for our baby Conner Kent?? I feel like there isn't enough of them. I just want a simple one with a lot of fluff pretty please. Maybe something in the line of reader watching him train or something like that. Thank you so much gorgeous 🫶🫶🫶.

Ps: Can I be your 🐍 anon? Every time you see a snake emoji isn't me jeje.

Of course! I hope you like it!

Warnings: gn!reader, it can be planotic or romantical (whatever you like the most), friends to lovers (?) Words: 461 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

₊˚ෆ Conner Kent is a show off. Like please, I dare you to say that it’s not true.

₊˚ෆ He’s gonna invite you to a training session so that he can act like he’s too focused on the training to even look at you but in reality his making all the good moves he knows so that he could “impress” you. Not like he needed, but you let him be.

₊˚ෆ After some “watching him training sessions”, he would slowly but firmly starting to teach you some moves for self defense. If you already know some, he would be more than happy to train with you or help you to improve.

₊˚ෆ Kon likes to think he's just a shout away, but he knows how unpredictable life could be. That’s why he would  insist on teaching you self defense, he hopes you never get to use them, but you know, just in case.

₊˚ෆ You two would be on the training room, sparring, an speaker on full volume with a playlist both of you made.

₊˚ෆ You reached a point where he actually began to think his movements better, since you were improving so much.

₊˚ෆ Of course, you two could cheat at every chance you got, let’s be for real.

₊˚ෆ A little moment where Kon he got too distracted by your closeness? He was down.

₊˚ෆ A little moment where you felt your body burn on the part he was touching? You were down.

“Conner!” you shouted with a laugh in between, your back hitting the training mat, Conner on top of you as he began to tickle you “Tha-That’s cheating!” you said as you began to try to get him off and stop him.

“Oh, so now i’m the cheater, huh?” he teased with a little smirk, loving your laugh. “At least i’m not using a kiss on the cheek as an attack”

You couldn’t help but laugh at both his tickles and comments.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” you said as quickly as you felt your abdomen hurt for laughing so much, eyes watery by the laughs. “I surrender!”

“There you go, how much did it cost, you little cheater?” Conner said as his hands stopped tickling, now just caressing gently your sides, a little genuine and innocent show of comfort.

“I’m never training with you again” you huffled with a smile, relaxing by his caresses.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, sweetheart.” he rolled his eyes, smirking at your dramatic answer.

₊˚ෆ You tend to lose, but when you win? He’s the first one to smile proudly at you, showering you with compliments, trying to get you to repeat the move and always pushing you to your limit.

₊˚ෆ At least, he can go to missions at peace knowing that you know how to take care of yourself.

So sorry ofr makeing it so short anon :(, right now i'm in my finals and I decided to write a quick hc with the excuse of taking a break. Maybe i'll add more things with the pass of the time (?), i'm not sure.

© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.