#festivals r going to line up then | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

romanoffsbish · 1 year ago

Text

Kissing Booth

Natasha Romanoff x F!R (College AU)

Tired of your girlfriends on and off kind of love, you set off to see just how invested she is in keeping you | WC: 2,848

Warnings: Toxic-Ish themes | Jealous Nat | Blood

Smut: Public | Jean-Riding (R) | Oral (R) | Degradation (Slut)

18+ | Minors DNI

"Y/N Y/L/N's pledge to the campuses first ever, Mental Wellness Festival is: a one woman booth meant to stimulate your joy receptors; a smooch of serotonin. Fellas, swing on by and steal a kiss, from the palm of my hand, and enjoy your sweet treat. Ladies and They's lean in closer love, if you set the right price, you can take the grand prize—a kiss of your choosing; my lips taste like artificial cherry and melted chocolate if that's of any interest to you. All proceeds go to a fund set in place to create better avenues for those suffering to cope with their hefty course loads as they manage heavy thoughts too." Natasha read the words over and over again in her traumatized mind until her pure feelings came to a boil as she huffed and ripped the paper off of the wall of every place she'd found it.

———

It didn't matter though. Because even though she took them down within the same hour they'd gone up, when she stepped onto the quad lit up by stadium lights she saw that your booths line had wrapped around the diamond twice in the five minutes that it was open.

Her fists clenched briefly as she saw Wanda and Carol, her sorority sisters, eagerly stood in line. Then she shook her head with a near manic laugh. The redhead truly felt bad for the other people here who thought that you'd actually kiss them on their mouths. Foolish to even dream of it really, because you knew better than to let them taint your sweet lips with their lust.

Theirs was carnal; vile another way to express that they wouldn't care for you like she would. Hers was soul crushing, but in the euphoric sense, because you knew no matter what happened between you two, that you were never alone. Natasha might be away, or distant, but she'd never leave you to become another's prey.

Far too perfect for her to lose to her traitorous sisters. They'd be dealt with later, but right now, your (ex) girlfriend had to focus on creeping in the shadows. Watching to see just how far you'd push her buttons.

All Natasha needed was your patience for a month, not even the full thirty days honestly. It was only meant to be a break so that she could focus on her studies, the way her A+'s, and full marks had dropped to A-'s had scared her into thinking that space would help fix it.

It didn't, but she pretended it did because she could not psych herself out of sticking to her desired path. You clearly lacked the patience and respect only your mommy could teach you. The exams are literally next week, you've been so good up until this final stretch. Not bothering her with physical ambushes, or even texting her, which she actually scolded you for, to which you re-shared your location with her just to limit the contact you'd have to make with her through text.

That hurt her feelings a bit, but she refused to wallow in the mess that she'd made. Your feelings were hurt first, and the aftermath treated hers no kinder, and lord knows this wasn't the first time she's done this.

That was in high school, junior year, and you were distraught by the decision. Then Summer came with apologies, and forgiveness. Now, in your fourth and final year of undergrad, you're just used to it. For some reason she just kept getting away with it unscathed...

Until now at least.

The woman you craved watched you with dilated eyes that caught everything. She's only hiding to see who you flirt with, genuinely, and consequently putting them on her list of people whose life she must now ruin in relation to you. Her mind raced when you let an older woman peck your cheek, she had only given you $500, and yet you let the corners of your lips brush.

Natasha growled in place of a whimper, she couldn't get the infuriating image out of her mind, her eyes burned with frustration as she pictured you and the football captain's girlfriend leaving the field together.

The redhead wouldn't let that happen. Darcy Lewis, the gifted scientist, and lover to a Mr. Sam Wilson, would leave here sooner in a body bag than with you.

Natasha pictured shoving the overzealous woman off of a cliff, then she'd return so she could approach you as she dug in her deep crossbody fanny pack, to then slam her wad of cash into the full jar, pull you up into a bruising kiss, and lift the bowl as she kicked the table over, helping flip to the red closed sign for good.

It was $4,000 in hard cash, money she'd just pulled out this morning to get a cashiers check for rent and to pay her other bills; Natasha was pissed, you sure felt that in the way that she harshly nibbled on your lips, cracking open the silky smooth skin; bright red blood smeared your coffee stained teeth. Everyone's whispers of fury and shock were drowned out as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Natasha hungrily sought out this elevated moment where she took a chance and recklessly guided your body around the corner until she could slam you up against a random concrete wall.

.... It paid off.

"Oh fuck," you huffed as your exposed upper back brushed against prickly vines, the crisp chill in the air instantly solidifying your blood against your skin. You could hardly care about the pain though as Natasha's thigh brushed against the bare cunt you'd sported beneath your skirt the entire night. That shiny metal chair was dripping with your essence as you saw your soulmate (ex-girlfriend) watching you with fury.

You were drenched, painfully needy, and screaming: "Natasha please—god I'm so fucking wet right now!"

"I know you are slut," she growled as her sharp canines grazed over the throbbing veins of your jugular. "I can feel your sticky mess through my jeans." You mewled at the rough press of your slick cunt to her pants, it had you seeing staticky stars. If she kept up a steady pace you were certain to be discovering galaxies. "Mmm, I need to cum mommy, need to cum so bad, please!"

"Yeah?" She scoffed, and you nodded frantically. "Well I need my money back, but instead I've donated it to do with these lips as I please so how about you shut it."

You didn't heed her warning, "Please, I'm sorry..."

"So fucking greedy," she growled, the glare she held as she pulled away from your neck sparked a thrill of fear to run straight to your core, your pretty eyes plead for reprieve, and naturally, the redhead gave in. "Go ahead slut, but make sure to let them hear you." Natasha's arms flexed as she expertly guided your core against the rough material of her jeans, and so you moaned out into the world her outwardly embarrassing title, letting everyone know they never stood a chance, it was a beautiful symphony to your on and off again lover that ended on a high note when she heard a familiar gush.

While you heavily panted, desperately breathing in the crisp night air that chilled your lungs into a hitch, she reveled in how the delicate rumble felt against her lips that were spread against the thin skin of your throat. Her tongue darted out, licking up the salty layer atop of your tacky skin, her teeth brushed back down, going the opposite way her tongue just had. The redheads goal of an endgame was etched into your exposed skin.

Your collarbones now decorated with her marks; ones that spoke of jealousy, and paired with a fragile love. You whimpered softly, the way her wet lips suckled on the already marked skin of your thudding pulse point bled off into the more painful side of things. Her wet tongue slid over the same spot in apology, then her lips founds yours after she kissed up the side of your neck.

Natasha's lips pressed against yours much softer than before, but you could tell she was frustrated with you. Which was fair, and matched as you stewed yourself, a part of you did feel guilty, but mostly, you felt broken.

But you weren't about to cry, no, you'd rather get mad.

It was what the naive asshole had earned. Natasha was great, a caring girlfriend who looked to you to smother with all of her love, the last six years together were a dream come true. A dream that faded into a nightmare whenever she becomes stressed, becoming someone you hardly recognize. She'd become dismissive, cold and quick to call for a blip; a break in your sacred union. Each time she said the same thing, "Just a bit of space is all I need, we'll be okay, mommy promises."

It was what she needed—never you, but she made it seem as if you'd happily agreed to her conditional love. As if letting you feel like her life could only improve if you were to leave it was something you took positively.

You were young, and carefree but not dumb enough to not know this wasn't healthy and maybe for your own petty thrill, you wanted to test her very limits. To see if she might just see what she risks losing, but you feel like all she got from this was more frustration. It only took a moment for her to huff that angrily against your chapped lips. "All I asked of you was for time Y/N."

You leaned your head back and pouted, eyes soft like a wounded puppy's. "We're better together Tasha."

Natasha sighed, "I know detka," she conceded with ease, her guilty face falling into the crook of your neck as she took in a calming breath. "I've been miserable without you honey, but we had to know that this could work. I'm going to have to travel for work, and I don't want to have to worry about you entertaining others."

"I'd never cheat," you hissed, "You asked for a break, that means we're no longer in a relationship Natasha."

"That's not what I meant and you know it Y/N," her nails dug into your sides. "Never have we ever ran a kissing booth during one, now stop being so difficult."

"I'm not being difficult Natasha, I'm doing charity work, and having a bit of fun as I do it." You shrugged and she frowned. "So breaking my heart is fun?"

You sighed softly, unwilling to unpack the hypocrisy of her words, "The only way this works out is if only your body leaves me in those times, but if you're saying random bouts of silence is the final answer th—." Nat cut you off, "You stopped texting Y/N, not me."

"Yeah, because you just wanted a 'good morning' and 'night' or an 'I'm home' after my classes got out, and you'd simply like it. Not even a 'morning love' or a 'glad you made it home safe' or an 'I love you.' in response."

"I needed to focus on school," she tried to defend, it was a pathetic excuse, and you both knew it. "Then you can do that Natasha, but I won't be waiting for you anymore, these breaks in affection are killing me."

"What? I-." You pressed your hands to her shoulders and attempted to push her away but she fiercely stood her ground. "What are you saying Y/N? Because I—."

"Need to let me go," you tiredly replied, "If I, um, if our relationship is too much of a problem for you on your journey to success then it's best we end this now."

Natasha's heart froze in her chest, the idea made her ill. "No!" Natasha fell to her knees, lips brushing over your abdomen before her hands lifted your skirt, and then her nose was nudging the wet skin of your thigh beside your cunt. "I'll do better honey, I swear to it." Her lips trembled, "No more breaks," her voice cracked and your heart sank. Your hands fell to the outline of her head that was buried beneath your skirt, her erratic breaths fanned across the sticky mess between your thighs and your body shivered. "Natasha, get up."

You felt the godly crafted curve of her nose nudge your clit as she shook her head, your mind was reeling with desperation, the same as her words. "I'm insane Y/N, clearly, because my reckless hypocrisy nearly lost me you, but I'm not so crazy that I'd actually let you go."

"Nat..." your muttering of her name cut off in a shaky breath as you felt her shake her head again, the thin twigs snapped as you threw your head back. "No," she murmured against the slick curve of your labia, a wet kiss made your hip jolt off the wall and slip more of her face between your folds. "You are my home Y/N."

Your heart stuttered as you heard her sniffle, her warm tears cascaded over the slick of your thighs and soaked into the cracks of your kneecaps. Hurting her wasn't something you relished in, but it was also necessary.

You knew that up until now things had been toxic, but you also knew your threat of dissolution wouldn't be dismissed. Natasha wouldn't let you go, she'd fell for you way back in middle school, she had the diary's in a locked drawer outlining your future together, the stars were aligned well before you knew, and they officially clicked when she made her move sophomore year.

After puberty gave her a much needed confidence boost she'd asked you out, using homecoming as an excuse, and you didn't hesitate to say yes. She kissed you after walking you home, her mind shifted when her lips pressed into yours, giving her a taste, and from that moment forward she has held on possessively.

Which is why you knew the moment your flyers went up that she would be all over you. A minute part of you lived for these raw moments where the insecurities her distance had created are edged out of your wary mind. Natasha wasn't a fan of breaking your heart either, but with who her parents are you can show her some grace, her expression was clearly a byproduct of their neglect.

Especially when she worked your body so perfectly. "Mmm, fuck," you gasped abruptly, mind exceptionally fuzzy as her despair had turned into the sloppiest head you'd ever received in your life. The noises were lewd, not even the school's festival could drown her out the more her tongue lavished away at your oozing cunt.

Natasha forgot what it was like to breathe for a long moment, her nose and mouth too busy working together to keep your mind fuzzy from pleasure. It was also her way of relishing the time she spent with your intimacy, fear clawing at her heart that this could be it.

The final time she was able to make you cry out her name, to make you feel this good, to love you as she always should. Her mind ran wild with the thought that you might've been scoping out your next lover tonight—could Wanda or Carol be better suited for you? No! She shook her head again and you came, crying out for her—you needed her, and her alone.

Natasha's nails dug into your ass, spreading your cheeks so that she could delve even further into your core with her tongue. Intent solely on drinking you dry, not that she ever really could, no matter how much she lapped away you never failed to become wet again. It was a vicious cycle that she endured with glee.

Your essence was something she always savored, but in this exact moment she found herself rushing to clean it up, her body now plagued with a persistent urge to cry.

Tears and slick intermixed on your thighs, creating their own slippery consistency that led to the redhead falling further into you as she tried to push herself up. You chuckled slightly before reaching a hand down to help her to her feet, the humor dying as soon as her face was leveled with yours. It was hard to feel joy when the love of your life looked so damn despaired.

"Oh Tasha," you coo'd, hands gentle as they cupped her wet cheeks. "Please, don't leave me detka," she sobbed, her slick hands laid over yours, attempting to keep the comfort of your touch on her, even if it was forced. Fortunately, your intent was only to bring her closer as you pulled her face forward and into a sloppy kiss. The way she whimpered at the affection solidified your choice to stay and fight for the love you knew existed.

"Take me home baby, these lips are yours to keep."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

925 notes · View notes

aleskie · 5 months ago

Text

FALLING FOR YOU (ft. Charles Leclerc)

SUMMARY: You and Charles go ice skating. He doesn't know how to ice skate. Shenanigans ensues.

The Xmas Album Masterlist

Warnings: none! it's like 98% fluff but it gets a lil suggestive like right at the veryy end

You gaze out the window, watching snow-draped trees blur past, the serene white landscape contrasting with the warmth of his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze now and then. Charles liked whisking you away on little trips throughout the year, but he especially loved doing so during the holidays, when the off-season finally let him slow down and bask in your company.

While the season was in full swing, he’d take you to sun-soaked beaches and coastal getaways in the middle of packed race weekends. But come winter, his heart belonged to the snowy mountains, where the two of you could retreat to a cozy little cabin, far from the world.

“It’ll be a couples’ trip before the madness starts,” he’d explained when he first floated the idea of sneaking away as the season ended. With the chaos of family dinners, festive parties, and endless reunions on the horizon, this getaway felt like a perfect little pocket of peace—just for the two of you.

The first few days were spent entirely wrapped up in each other—fingers intertwined, skin pressed against skin, lips meeting in unhurried kisses. New marks bloomed on necks and collarbones and hips, small traces of intimacy shared beneath the warmth of the covers as the cold world outside faded into nothingness. It was a blissful blanket, the kind you could only share when his mind wasn’t preoccupied with racing or how the team was doing. Time seemed to stretch in those quiet moments, letting you focus on nothing but each other.

Today, though, Charles had insisted—albeit with his signature charm—that you get out of bed for a surprise adventure. “Trust me,” he’d said with a mischievous grin as he helped you bundle up for the cold.

When the car finally pulls to a stop, he’s quick to hop out and open your door, excitement practically radiating off him. Before you can take in your surroundings, he’s already covering your eyes with his hands, laughing softly as he guides you forward.

The crisp winter air nips at your cheeks, growing sharper as you near the mystery destination. The muffled crunch of boots on snow accompanies the sound of children’s laughter, mingled with the cheerful hum of life bustling around you.

When Charles finally uncovers your eyes, your breath catches.

A frozen lake stretches out before you, its smooth surface glinting in the soft afternoon light. Families and couples glide across it, their skates carving graceful lines into the ice. Nearby, a small booth rents skates and a scattering of string lights twinkles faintly against the snowy backdrop. The scene feels like it’s been plucked straight from a holiday movie—a sea of white stretching endlessly, snowflakes drifting lazily through the air, and the joyful energy of the people around you.

“Ta-da!” Charles says, his voice brimming with pride as he grins down at you, “What do you think?”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, leading you closer to the lake. The chill deepens as you step further onto the snowy bank, but the magic of the scene keeps it at bay. Your heart feels impossibly full as you take it all in.

“Oh, Charlie,” you whisper, your voice soft and awestruck, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, come on then,” Charles says, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he leads you toward the skate rentals. “Let’s skate!”

You can’t help but smile, the grin stretching wide across your face as he eagerly handles everything—selecting skates for both of you and chatting animatedly with the attendant. The smile doesn’t fade even as you both sit on a nearby bench, lacing up your skates. You lean against each other for balance, your laughter mingling with the soft hum of activity around you. The cold bites at your fingers as you tug on the laces, but his easy warmth keeps the moment light.

Once ready, the two of you waddle toward the lake’s edge, unsteady on the frozen ground but too excited to care. As you’re about to step onto the ice, Charles suddenly catches your wrist, halting your progress. His expression is mischievous, the corners of his mouth curling up in that playful way you’ve come to adore.

“You’ve skated before, right?” he asks, tilting his head as though this question is long overdue.

You shrug, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I mean, yeah, but I’m not amazing at it.”

He narrows his eyes, studying you for a moment. “But you can balance?”

Instead of answering immediately, you step onto the ice and give a small glide, the motion smooth but cautious. “Yeah,” you reply over your shoulder, confidence lacing your tone.

“Good.” His grin widens as he steps gingerly onto the ice beside you, legs wobbling and torso swaying from side to side before placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. "Because I can't."

“Ah!” you exclaim, stumbling slightly as Charles leans his full weight against you. Your skates wobble precariously on the ice, but you manage to catch yourself, your hands instinctively gripping his arms for stability.

“Charlie,” you laugh breathlessly, your voice tinged with both amusement and panic, “One of us has to let go, or we’re both gonna fall!”

“I don’t know, mon ange, I’ve already fallen quite badly for you,” he quips, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. His legs may have been fighting for balance, wobbling dangerously, but his charm remained completely unshaken.

You chuckle, shaking your head as you try to steady yourself. “I’m serious, babe. I’m barely hanging on here!”

Instead of letting go, Charles takes an awkward, jerky step forward, his upper body practically collapsing against yours.

“If we don’t move, we can stay standing,” he says with the confidence of someone who’s utterly failing at proving his point. His arms wrap tightly around you, a precarious attempt at keeping both of you upright.

You roll your eyes playfully, threading a hand through his tousled hair. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Leaning in, you press a soft kiss to his cheek before gently unraveling yourself from his hold, taking one of his hands in yours. His grip tightens, but there’s trust in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Do you trust me?” you ask, your tone light but reassuring.

“Always,” he replies without hesitation.

“Good.” A smile spreads across your face as you glide backward, the motion so gentle it’s barely more than a whisper of movement. “Let’s take this slow, Mr. I-Drive-Fast-Cars-For-A-Living. This might actually be harder for you than your usual laps.”

His laughter rings out, rich and warm despite his shaky stance. “What do you mean might? It already is.”

The two of you glide slowly across the edge of the ice, your hands firmly clasped together. His feet shuffle awkwardly, and his brows are knit in deep concentration as he wobbles with every step. You can’t help but stifle a laugh whenever he flails wildly to keep his balance. Of course, with his hands still gripping yours, his clumsy movements throw you off balance too—but you find it too funny to care.

“You’re doing wonderful, love,” you say, your smile stretching wide.

“It’s not too bad,” he replies, his steps still clunky but growing bolder, “I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you warn teasingly, keeping the pace slow and steady as you gently pull him along.

But Charles, ever the adrenaline junkie, has no intention of playing it safe. “Oh, come on, mon ange,” he says, his grin turning mischievous, “This is a racetrack now.”

Before you can protest, he loosens his grip on your hand and pushes off against the ice with exaggerated effort, sending you gliding slightly ahead of him. Determined, he attempts to pick up speed, his legs awkwardly working against the slick surface.

“Charlie, be careful!” you exclaim, glancing back at him with growing concern. He’s teetering dangerously from side to side, his arms flailing in a desperate bid to stay upright.

“I’ve got this!” he calls out, his voice filled with far more hope than certainty, “It’s nothing too crazy!”

But fate—and the ice—have other plans. In a split second, his skate catches awkwardly, and he stumbles forward, completely losing control.

“Charles!” you squeal, trying to sidestep as he inches toward you like an unstoppable force. But it’s too late. With an almost comical lack of grace, his full weight barrels into you, and the two of you crash onto the ice in a tangled heap.

“Oh, dear, are you alright?” Charles asks when you're both fallen over, his voice laced with concern as he cups your cheeks, tilting your head gently to check for any injuries.

“I’m fine,” you reply between bursts of laughter, your breath fogging the cold air, “I can’t believe you wiped us both out!”

He groans, his face just inches from yours, his expression a mix of sheepishness and suppressed laughter. “It was a very calculated risk, you know.”

“Really?” you ask, raising an incredulous brow, “And what exactly did your calculations say?”

“That you’d make a wonderful crash pad,” he replies, his smirk breaking free, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, still chuckling as you lean into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. The two of you sit there for a moment, sprawled near the edge of the lake, just shy of solid land, the world around you bustling with joyful sounds of skaters and falling snow.

“Alright,” you finally say, brushing snow off your jacket as you prepare to get up. “Let’s try this again, yeah?”

He nods excitedly.

You rise carefully, holding out a hand to Charles. He grabs it, his grip firm as he starts to pull himself up. But before he can fully stand, his skates betray him, and with a comical yelp, he slips again, landing back on the ice with a soft thud.

“Have I ever told you how much I love watching you learn new things?” you tease, your laughter bubbling over. “You’re so cute.”

“Well,” he smirks, brushing snow off his jacket, “You think I’m cute, so I win.”

As you reach for him again, a young voice pipes up beside you.

“Hi, sir!”

You both glance over to see a little boy skating confidently toward you, his skates cutting small arcs on the ice. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and a toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Since you’re struggling, you can always grab onto a Penguin Helper! They’re over there, and they help you skate and balance!” He points toward a line of small, penguin-shaped skating aids near the rental booth.

Charles blinks, momentarily stunned, before letting out a hearty laugh that echoes across the ice. “Ah, a Penguin Helper? Now that sounds like a genius idea.”

“Yeah!” the boy replies, nodding enthusiastically, “I used one when I was learning, and now I’m super good!” He punctuates his words with a quick, confident spin that leaves Charles gaping in exaggerated awe.

“You’re certainly very good,” Charles says, glancing at you with a grin, “How can I argue with a pro? I suppose a penguin might be my only hope.”

You giggle, watching as the boy skates off with the effortless confidence of someone far more practiced than Charles.

“Come on, Charlie,” you tease, offering him your hand again. “Let’s get you your new best friend.”

“Only if you promise not to abandon me for a faster skater,” he quips, taking your hand as you help him up once more.

“I promise you’re the only one I want—bad skating and all,” you say with a warm smile.

Hand in hand, you shuffle back toward the rental booth to grab him a penguin. Despite the slightly bruised ego, his laughter—and charm—remain completely intact.

“Ah, yes,” he says dramatically, gripping the handles of the cheerful plastic penguin, “My noble steed has arrived.”

“A fitting ride for the honorable Lord Perceval,” you tease, laughing as you quickly pull out your phone to snap a few photos. Watching him slowly glide across the ice, his newfound confidence was as endearing as it was amusing. “You look like a natural.”

“Do I?” he asks, flashing you a playful smile. “In that case, shall we race? I’m sure my trusty companion here will give me the edge I need.” He pats the penguin affectionately.

You skate beside him effortlessly, your movements smooth compared to his exaggerated shuffle. “I’d still like to have my boyfriend in one piece by the end of this, thank you very much.”

“Oh, but your boyfriend’s pride is already shattered,” he responds, tilting his head toward you with exaggerated seriousness, “What are you going to do about that?”

You smirk, leaning just close enough to him to make him wonder what you’re thinking. “Well,” you begin, your voice dripping with playful intrigue, “He’ll have to wait until we’re back at the cabin to find out, won’t he?”

His eyes narrow, and a mischievous grin spreads across his face, the twinkle in his eyes growing sharper. “Oh? Will there be a special gift waiting for me there?” His tone drops an octave, the teasing lilt turning into something more revealing. “Perhaps something that involves...less layers?"

You gasp in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over your chest as if you’ve been scandalized. “I don’t know what’s in that mind of yours,” you say, fighting back a smile, “But I was just planning on having us take a nice, relaxing nap.”

He quirks an eyebrow, stepping closer with a playful glint in his eye. “But what if I asked for this gift nicely?”

You raise a brow, intrigued, yet still holding onto the upper hand. “Ask nicely��how?”

His smile widens as he leans in, lowering his voice in that teasing tone you know so well. “I’ll make you hot chocolate. Just the way you like it. Thick. More chocolate than milk. Extra marshmallows. No skimping.”

Your eyes widen for a moment before you let out a chuckle, shaking your head, your heart softening at his effort to win you over. “Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me.” You smile sweetly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I guess you can have your special gift after all.”

He grins, his posture slightly off-balance as he leans in—still holding onto that plastic penguin like it’s his lifeline—and plants a soft, warm kiss on your forehead. “You know just how to make a man’s bruised ego feel better,” he chuckles, his voice full of warmth.

“I know, right?” you smile, the promise of warmth, both literal and figurative, and more playful moments together at the cabin feels like the perfect ending to the day.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #cl16 #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 x reader #✩ allie's writing ✩

149 notes · View notes

aciddrattboyy · 7 months ago

Text

Mσɳʂƚҽɾ Mαʂԋ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "scare!actor bachira appeared in a vision and i had to let it be known or, after being stood up on a date, one scare actor meguru spots you and decides to try to fill the spot"

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Bachira M. x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 1.7k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Slice of Life] one mention of blood (its fake)(characters are aged up)

▶▶

the cold fall breeze did nothing to help your already trembling body. as soon as you stepped out of your house you regretted wearing the tight black dress your date picked out for you. and when you got a message from said date saying he wasnt going anymore when you were already half way to the festival, you regretted it even more.

you thought about turning back, going home and calling your friends. maybe try to see if there were any parties you all could go to. you wouldve felt bad asking your friends to buy tickets last minute. but you spent a good amount on your ticket and you weren’t about to waste it.

here you were now, standing in line for a haunted house all by your lonesome. were you a huge fan of haunted houses? no not exactly. but were you about to get every pennys worth of what you paid for? yes of course. you kind of felt stupid about it, feeling a bit stubborn doing this all out of spite. but you weren’t exactly made of money and you had been excited to come here. so you’d persevere.

meguru strolled out of the ‘crew only’ door, hands in the pockets oh his sweatpants while goosebumps trailed up his arms up until well his t-shirt sleeves ended. observing the ridiculously long line, he silently prayed for his coworkers and hoped their night went… decent.

rummaging through his pockets, meguru grabbed for his earbuds. but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. arms crossed tightly over your chest as you fidgeted with the hem of your short dress. a smile twitched on the corner of his mouth as he smoothly changed his course, abandoning his walk towards the employee parking lot and making a bee line towards you. he seamlessly slid under the velvet rope, grinning as he stood behind you.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here by yourself?”

your eye twitched, twisting around and fully prepared to tell the creep off. but your words faltered when you actually saw megurus face. his smile didnt seem to match what sounded like cat calling. so you relaxed a bit, hoping that continuing this conversation wouldnt end badly.

“being stood up on a date,” you watched as his eyes widened, his smile faltering for just a moment.

“no shit really?” he barked out a laugh out of surprised. his eyes scanned over you, watching in amusement as you bounced on the balls of your shoes. “damn that sucks.” you scoffed, nodding your head with a less than enthused smile.

“thanks,”

“but-” meguru said quickly, taking a step forward when he saw you begin to turn away. “uh if you want i can help you through it, i know the place well,” he said, gesturing to the haunted house youve been waiting to get into for what felt like eons. your eyebrow cocked as you faced him fully, being amused by his attempt to salvage the conversation.

“are you some kind of adrenaline junkie?” you asked lightly, wondering just how many times he’d gone through it. little did you know it was more than you couldve ever guessed.

“yes- but im one of the actors here so it would be pretty inconvenient if i didnt know my way around- whats your name? im meguru,” meguru didnt usually tell people about his job. not finding it important enough to talk about most times. was the job fun? most of the time. but it was just an exciting side gig while he made his way through college. but seeing the way your eyes lit up at his words, he felt good about it.

“you dont look… scary,” you teased, studying megurus features as you moved up the line with him in tow. if you were given a line up of people to guess who were scare actors you probably would’ve picked him last upon first glance. “and its y/n” you added on with a bubbly grin.

“well yeah i dont have an ax through my chest right now,” he shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving yours with a goofy smile on his face. you laughed, a sweet smile settling on your face. you felt like your night was starting to look up just a bit. “but nice to meet you y/n,”

the two of you talked a lot about nothing going through the line. it was surprisingly easy to just chat with him and you hadnt even noticed you were moving with the line until you were basically at the entrance. you looked at meguru with wide eyes when an ear piercing scream could be heard of from inside.

“dont worry pretty girl i’ll protect you,” he said with a wink, mirroring the smile on your face. as you guys moved towards the entrance, your heart was too busy beating in your ears for you to notice or hear meguru talking to one of his coworkers that were monitoring the line. you were only brought back to reality when meguru linked his arm with yours, rolling his neck.

meguru usually didnt actually walk through the haunted houses he worked at. the thought of seeing a coworker in the makeup he’s seen been put on them before would probably ruin the mood. but now that he had you, clingly to his side oh so adorably, he was starting to think maybe it would be fun.

as soon as you walked in you were immediately veiled in eery, cold darkness. adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to adjust your vision. you swerved your head, trying to look out for any possible jumpscares. meguru watched as you grew a bit frantic, not wanting to say too much and spoil the fun. there was a faint smile on his lips when he saw you notice the well lit door down the hall.

while you were relieved, and started making your way to the door, meguru knew that it wasnt the exit. he knew someone was behind that door, patiently waiting for someone like you to open it to jump out and scream. he found your interest in the door amusing considering he was there just a couple hours ago.

“you might not wanna open that door,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. he felt bad for ruining the illusion, but you already looked like you were on the brink of collapse and the last thing he wanted was for you to faint.

you shivered, his warm breath grazing your skin a stark contrast to the cold room you were in. holding on to his arm with both hands now, you let him lead the way, suddenly realizing you were not a fan of haunted houses.

you got through the majority of the house with almost no incidents. having put your faith into meguru, you screwed your eyes shut. only getting scared by the ambience or someone else’s screams.

meguru glanced down at you plenty of times as he walked you through. you just looked so cute leaning your head on his with your eyes closed. you had put all your trust in him to get you through and he was going to honor that.

what meguru didnt know then, was that a bunch of the crew members had been plotting as the two of you walked through, staking out the exit for an impromptu jumpscare. they normally wouldnt do this, they have a job to do after all. but you guys were the last of your grouping so they would have to wait for you to leave before letting more people in anyway. it was sort of a gift to meguru, giving him a scare in a haunted house.

“we’re almost there,” meguru muttered close to your head, his smile growing as he made his way to the exit. your eyes had opened just a bit, relief washing through your body when you could clearly see outside of the haunted house. with a little pep in your step, you sped walked for the exit.

but that was cut short when a body fell from the roof, almost landing on top of you but staying suspended in the air. you yelped, stumbling backwards into megurus chest. unfortunately for you, he was of no help. his eyes furrowed, his own heart rate starting to pick up. but just as he was about to make sense of it all, two actors jumped in front of you. the special effects were gorey and you thought you were going to vomit. with wide eyes you turned to meguru who was now laughing nervously.

another body fell, this time hitting the ground with a thud right behind you. you both spun around towards the sound and you could feel a scream bubbling in your throat when you saw a dark liquid seep out from under it.

under normal circumstances, meguru would laugh that stunt off, knowing exactly how it was done and having pulled it off himself. but having already been caught off guard, it did nothing to calm him down.

quickly grabbing your wrist, he pulled you through the hallway, blood pumping through his veins as all of the sound effects and screams followed them out. your eyes were tightly shut, not daring to open until you knew you were out of there.

the oh so slightly warmer autumn air hit you like a truck when you finally got out. your eyes were almost bugging out of your head as you looked at meguru who had the exact same expression. the both of you were breathing heavily, standing there in stunned silence.

“you said you knew-”

“i know i did-”

“so how-,” you took in megurus disheveled state, his genuine look of shock in his face made you giggle. with the adrenaline still flowing through you, you both became a laughing mess, rethinking that just happened in the past 3 minutes. and when you looked into his eyes once more, you werent able to stop yourself from pulling him into a kiss. meguru was quick to reciprocate, wrapping his arms around you as your soft lips pressed into his.

the kiss only lasted mere seconds before you both stepped back in shock. you felt your face start to heat up as his smile only grew wider.

“woah at least treat me to a caramel apple first,” you laughed softly and meguru could have sworn he felt his heart do a backflip into a split when he looked at you. you took your hand in his, squeezing it once before dragging him deeper into the festival. “i lied actually im more of a funnel cake typa guy,”

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

#bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira fluff #meguru x reader #meguru x you #meguru fluff #bachira meguru #meguru bachira #bachira bllk #meguru bllk #f!reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #fluff #bllk x reader #ac.sliceoflife #ac.bachira

127 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 2 years ago

Text

In Silent Screams (3/3)

Chapter word count: 11.8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision (past) Warnings in this part: Smut (F/F), Angst, Gaslighting, Blackmail, Mild attempted sexual assault

A/N: This is probably the most uncomfortable fic I've written after In Flames (for good reason lol), so I'm nothing short of amazed if you were able to go through every line in this three-parter. P.S. For some reason, third part was the hardest to write for me, I guess it's because a lot of the scenes now are the same ones from In Flames after R found out and switching perspectives was a lot harder than I anticipated :P

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It all feels like a dream, starting from the moment she opens her eyes and a few rays of light have filtered through the slats of the blinds. For a few moments Wanda pretends she’s back to that day—to that first morning she woke up next to you as your wife. She can still vividly recall the setting: your old bedroom in Montauk. Less than a year out of college, both you and Wanda were being frugal about the whole marriage thing, opting out of checking into a hotel after the festivities the night before.

Wanda smiles to herself at the fond memory. She glances to the side, and the alarm clock reads 5:30. It's too early to be waking you up, or anyone in this sleepy town. Nevertheless, she has to talk herself into extricating herself from your arms if she wants to pull off a very special breakfast-in-bed. A hesitant decision, a quiet sigh, and Wanda's slowly pulling herself from the warmth of the bed. The wood floor feels cool against her bare feet, prompting her to reach for one of your used polo shirts hanging over the back of the desk chair.

She enters the kitchen, her hands immediately getting to work. The spinach and mushroom are her first go-to, swiftly layered with day-old bread, and custard mix, forming the base for her strata. Next come the eggs, which she sets to poach, anticipating the smooth burst of yolk that'll cascade over the muffin once all is said and done. And then finally, bacon—your favorite.

Sparky trots into the kitchen, inevitably drawn by the wafting aroma, his tail wagging in tandem with his eagerness. He settles by her feet, watching with those pleading puppy eyes, occasionally letting out a quiet whine that speaks of his impatience and hope. Wanda chuckles, bending down to ruffle his fur. “You think this will get you a piece, huh?” she teases. But, she already knows that she'll give in, sneaking him a piece or two. He's your and Wanda's baby after all.

After she’s finished plating the meal, she sets them on a tray and carefully carries it back to the bedroom. The morning sun presents itself more boldly, almost spotlighting you in bed. Your face is tucked beneath a pillow, the sheets haphazardly pooled around your waist, revealing the bare expanse of your back, without a care in the world. Warmth floods Wanda's chest. She places the tray on a nearby desk.

Breakfast can wait.

Slipping into bed behind you, she becomes a shadow to your form. Her fingers gently trace the curve of your shoulder, lightly skimming over your skin. A shiver runs through her, and she lowers her lips to your nape. The temptation is too great, and soon, her tongue joins the fray, drawing a wet path down your spine. And then, unable to stop herself, she begins to rub herself against you, a soft moan escaping her lips. The sheer fabric of the polo shirt she's wearing, infused with your scent, rubs tantalizingly against her sensitized skin, heightening her need.

She can't stop thinking about last night, and the times before. She can't stop thinking about you—having you, being had by you. However, as your muscles start to tense, indicating the micro movements of your awakening body, a soft “fuck” slips from Wanda's lips, distracting her rhythm. She waits, a small smile tugging at her lips, silently asking if you're ready to greet the day—together.

You lazily roll onto your back, causing Wanda to reposition herself, now straddling your abdomen. With a drowsy smirk, your eyes half-lidded, you murmur, “Good morning,” squinting at the enthusiastic goddess—my wife, you think possessively to yourself— hovering above you.

Her face lights up, her morning energy nearly palpable. “Morning,” she chirps back, leaning down to capture your lips in a short but sweet kiss. Breaking away only slightly, she gives you a playful eskimo kiss, her nose rubbing affectionately against yours. A giggle escapes you, and she continues until you feel her nose scrunch up from how hard she’s smiling, all the while relishing the sound of her laughter.

When she's done teasing you, she buries her face in your neck. Drawn to the soft, milky expanse of her thighs, your hands begin to wander. As your fingers brush the curve where her thigh meets her hip, the subtle absence of fabric gives you pause. She's without a stitch beneath your polo. Your thumb ventures further south, discovering the dampness tangled in her soft curls. Heat surges to your cheeks, and you bite your lip, stifling a moan.

Wanda notices the slight change in your expression and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. “Seems like you found a little surprise,” she teases.

“Did I?” you smirk, tracing the V-line leading to her hidden treasure, teasing her a little. Wanda's breath catches, her pupils blown. But just as she readies herself for whatever comes next, you suddenly shift upwards, unbalancing her slightly. Reflexively, her legs wrap around your waist, anchoring herself to you. Her hands fly to your shoulders, gripping them for support. With a swift move, you part the front of the polo she’s wearing, exposing the smooth curve of her breast to the cool morning air.

The sudden exposure makes her gasp, but before she can utter a word, you close the distance, taking a hardened nipple into your mouth. Her face contorts in unabashed pleasure, her world spinning as you draw her deeper and deeper into your mouth. It's messy and primal, yet at the same time, it's reverent and sacred—something she has only ever experienced with you. She can't help but squirm, fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on.

Keeping an arm firmly around her waist to ensure she stays secure, your free hand travels down her belly, fingers tracing a sultry path to her soaked center. You leisurely trace her slick folds, gathering her arousal, playing with it.

“Please, baby,” she arches and bucks, grinding her hips, “more...I need more.”

Your lips twist into a devious smirk, reveling in her desperation. Drawing back slightly, you gaze at the flushed, vulnerable state of her, taking a moment to commit the image to memory. “I love it when you’re this needy…” you rasp, the tease evident in your tone.

Oh, but she is. She needs you to claim her, time and time again. She never wants to be anything else other than yours once more.

You lean back in, trailing a path of searing kisses from her collarbone, down to the valley between her breasts. Without warning, you nip at her tender flesh, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. Marking her further, you suck and bite gently, leaving a trail of reddened spots, declaring your claim on her. With every purple bruise you leave, Wanda's moans grow more desperate, more wanton.

When you finally lift your head, her chest is littered with bites, then with a wicked grin, you dip your finger into her wetness once more, circling her entrance but never dipping inside.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I... I want you,” she admits breathlessly, biting her lower lip, eyes pleading. “Please, I need you inside.”

Not wanting to make her wait any longer, you slide two fingers into her, curling them expertly. Wanda's body arches off the bed, her inner walls instantly tightening around your digits, pulling them deeper. Every sound that spills from her lips, the way her body arches, trying to get closer, to feel more of you, tells you just how good you’re making her feel.

Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, while your fingers continue to piston in and out of her. The room is filled with the sound of Wanda's ragged breaths and the wet, slick noises of your fingers moving within her. As you feel her body tense further, you take a chance and slide a third finger into her, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation of being so full sends Wanda over the edge.

“Oh, God!” she gasps, her back arching, eyes squeezed shut. Her hands grip your shoulders tightly, knuckles white from the intensity of her climax. Her inner walls spasm around your fingers, coating them with her release, her entire body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.

You keep up the pace, not wanting to stop until she's wrung out from pleasure. Each stroke of your fingers sends aftershocks rippling through her. When it finally becomes too much, Wanda grabs your wrist.

“Enough,” she breathes out, a sated smile curling her lips.

You can't resist the allure of the taste she's left on your fingers. You raise them to your lips, deliberately and slowly, letting her watch as you savor her taste. The move earns a flustered gasp from her.

“You taste so good,” you murmur, your voice low and husky.

Wanda's cheeks redden, but her eyes darken once more, filled with a burning intensity. “Your turn,” she whispers, reaching for you.

Thirty minutes before she can call it a day, the sound of a knock on her office door sends a ripple of tension through Wanda.

She knows that knock all too well.

Taking a deep breath, she calls out, “Yes?” even as she mentally braces herself for who might be on the other side.

The person almost immediately steps in, and—unfortunately, she's correct about who she thinks it might be. Before she can utter a word, he says, “You know, I can't just come in without an appointment, right?”

“Exactly, Vision. You shouldn't be here without—” she starts to say, but he interrupts her by triumphantly holding up an appointment slip.

His cheeky grin widens. “Got one right here.”

Wanda eyes the slip, pursing her lips as she thinks of a retort, keeping her guard up. The game has changed, but Vision's audacity, it seems, remains the same.

“Alright, what do you want? And I wouldn’t entertain anything that doesn’t have to do with the course.”

“Just some clarification about our last lecture,” he says as he closes the door behind him, audibly locking it. Wanda maintains her composure, not letting it show that the small act alarms her in the slightest.

“Go on,” Wanda prompts, leaning back slightly against her desk, arms crossed defensively.

But Vision, without missing a beat, launches into something entirely different. “I miss you,” he starts, and Wanda's posture stiffens, her fingernails reactively digging into her arms rather painfully. “I realize I messed up, Wanda. I do. But I can change.”

“Vis—” she warns, trying to interrupt him, but he barrels on, his voice filled with desperation.

“And if, by any chance, you're pregnant, I'll step up. I promise. I'll be responsible,” he continues, his voice quivering slightly. “You have no idea how happy I’ll be if you are.”

“I'm not pregnant,” Wanda whispers, struggling to keep her emotions in check. It's one thing for him to disregard her boundaries and be reckless with his words, but to assume that she would continue a pregnancy, knowing he's the father? Even the thought of it is sickening.

“And I would still choose not to be even if you were successful in your plans,” she adds, just to spite him.

Vision looks as if he might be sick, his complexion turning pallid, and a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. Wanda has never seen him struck by her words this hard, and she realizes she doesn't have any idea what he might do next.

“I just... I thought…” he stammers, eyes glistening, “I just wanted to matter to you, b-by—”

“By what, Vision?” She cuts him off, her tone icy. “Hoping you'd lock me down by trying to knock me up?”

Vision’s face crumples further, tears spilling over. For all his stature—tall, lanky yet broad-shouldered—in this moment, he's stripped of that facade. His body shake as he tries to hold back sobs. “I didn't... I didn't think it through,” he manages to say between choked breaths.

Wanda almost pities him, but she shakes her head. “If you’re not here for school, you need to leave.” Her voice is cold, but inside, she's fighting a storm of guilt for the hurt she sees in him.

Just then, the shrill ring of Wanda's phone startles them both simultaneously. Vision's eyes dart to the screen as her caller ID lights up, displaying your name. In a split second, desperation and panic take hold of him. He lunges for the phone, but Wanda is quicker. She swiftly grabs it from her desk, tucking it safely into her purse.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses, her back pressing against the desk.

Vision's eyes burn with an intensity that chills her. Taking slow, deliberate steps, he looms over her, his presence imposing in the small confines of her office. “That’s her, isn’t it?” he demands with barely suppressed jealousy. “She's coming to get you now?”

Wanda backs away slightly, her breathing erratic. “Vision, you need to think—”

“I am thinking.” His voice drops to a low, menacing growl. He tilts his head, eyes never leaving hers. “And maybe I'm thinking of doing something you won't like.”

“No!” Wanda pleads. “Look, Vision—okay, okay, let’s talk. Just not here. We can go to your place.”

His gaze narrows, considering her offer. “When?”

“Soon.”

Vision shakes his head. Not good enough.

“Tomorrow,” he states without room for argument, his eyes drilling into hers. “Same time. Like we used to.” The allusion to their previous meetings isn't lost on her.

Wanda's throat constricts, “Fine,” she whispers, barely audible, a clear note of dread in her voice. She hates the familiarity of this situation. Most of all, she hates that she's put herself in this position to begin with.

Suddenly, Vision reaches out, his fingers nearly brushing the side of her face. Wanda instinctively shrinks back, but the space between the desk and Vision offers her little room to escape. Her back is to the wall, both literally and figuratively. She can feel the cold press of the desk behind her, contrasting with the heat emanating from Vision's body. It’s obvious what he's thinking, what he's restraining himself from doing.

Horrified and trapped, Wanda closes her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. But instead of the touch she anticipates, she hears Vision's harsh intake of breath. The realization that she's retreated from him seems to strike a nerve.

Without another word, Vision pulls away sharply, as if burnt. He turns on his heel, storming out of her office. As soon as he’s gone, her legs give out from under her and she slides down to the cold floor, clutching her chest as she struggles for air. The walls of her office seem to close in on her, trapping her in her own spiraling thoughts.

As the room begins to blur, the sharp buzz of her phone breaks through her spiraling thoughts. Instinctively, she reaches into her purse, pulling out the phone. Your name illuminates the screen, and with it comes a flood of emotions—relief, safety, love.

The mere thought of you—so close, just beyond these walls—stops a panic attack from consuming her.

“Would you like to go bowling?” Wanda asks you as soon as she fastens her seat belt.

The randomness of the suggestion takes you aback, and a hearty laugh escapes your lips. But as you glance over to see Wanda's reaction, expecting to see her sharing in the moment's levity, you're met with a pained expression.

Your smile fades immediately, replaced by concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

Wanda mentally curses herself, realizing just how easily you can read her, see past her defenses. Needing to come up with something plausible, she quickly blurts out, “I had something super spicy when you called earlier. Didn't handle it too well, it seems.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up in a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, hoping you'd buy the lie, or at least not press further.

You don’t. “Hmm… how about we take Sparky out for a stroll today?” you suggest.

“A walk sounds great,” Wanda replies, her voice softening.

“Good,” you say, starting the car. “Let's head to the park. A bit of nature might do us both some good.”

The engine rumbles softly as you shift the gears, transitioning smoothly from one to the next. And then, almost instinctively, you reach out to take Wanda's hand, your fingers lacing with hers in a gentle yet firm grip. You hold her hand throughout the entire ride home, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze whenever you feel them tremble between yours.

That night, while you sleep soundly beside her, she finds herself unable to sleep. She spends the empty hours simply studying your peaceful face. There's a childlike innocence in the way your lips part slightly, a soft snore escaping occasionally. It's endearing, and it makes Wanda smile, even through her turmoil. She imagines traces of age on your face—the lines that will mark years of laughter, the silver that will streak through your hair. She tries to picture herself beside you, her own face carrying the weight of the years, both of you holding on to each other until the last breath. Her smile is teary as she hopes and hopes that this is where she's headed—to this future.

Because tomorrow, she will have to see Vision, and if everything goes well, she'll never have to see him again. Then she will finally express how she needs you to take her back to Manhattan or anywhere far from here, so she'll never have to relive this nightmare she’s created.

The next day comes like any regular day of the week. She kisses you goodbye as you head off to work, and she feeds Sparky to his heart's content before getting into a pinstripe blue blazer set. She fails to notice just how good she looks in this well-fitted ensemble, the fabric hugging her waist perfectly. Her focus is solely on feeling powerful, as she knows she'll need all the strength to finally put an end to things with Vision.

Wanda takes a deep breath, then another, and then two more, before she finally gathers enough courage to knock on the door. Vision answers almost immediately, as though he had been anticipating her knock down to the very second.

The man before her now looks wholly different from the one she had encountered just yesterday. His blue eyes are bright and clear, his face clean shaven. The scent of a cologne she doesn't recognize wafts to her. New, she thinks. It's heady and distinctly masculine, unsettling her slightly.

“Wanda,” he greets with a charming smile, one that reaches his eyes, but doesn’t quite touch the soul behind them. For a moment, she's transported to the countless afternoons she spent here, entangled with him with nothing—not even air—separating their sweating, writhing bodies. His lips quirk into a sly, familiar smile, as if he too remembers those days and expects this visit to be a similar occasion.

“Vision.” Gripping her shoulder bag tighter, almost using it as a shield, she quickly sidesteps him. “May I?” she asks, though it sounds more like a statement as she makes her way into his apartment.

He chuckles softly behind her, the sound dripping with memories she would rather forget. “Of course. After all, you've always felt at home here.”

Wanda's stride falters for a fraction of a second at his words, the implication threatening to pull her under. But she needed to keep her wits about her. If she wants this conversation to go her way.

“Let’s just get to the point, Vision,” she says curtly.

“I intend to,” he replies, closing the door behind them with an intentional finality. Wanda allows herself to glance around, seeking even a brief distraction from what's about to unfold. His apartment is in disarray, a stark contrast to his appearance. Her eyes are drawn to one particular piece amongst the chaos—the finished nude painting he had made of her. The realization catches in her throat. It appears he’s finished it.

Wanda shoots him an expectant look, urging him to speak first.

Vision clears his throat, attempting to sound casual but failing. “Wine? Or should we skip the formalities?”

Her eyes narrow, her patience waning. “We skip.”

“Alright.”

He sighs and drops onto the couch. “Look, I've said sorry over and over, but I’ll say it again. I'm sorry, Wanda. I'm sorry for being careless that night.” His voice lowers, “But I don't regret it.”

Wanda's eyes flash with disbelief. “You don't regret it?”

“No,” he murmurs. “What I regret is that it didn't result in... well, you know.”

The implication is clear, and Wanda feels bile rise in her throat. How could he say something so audacious?

She opens her mouth to retort but he continues, raising a hand as if to hold off her words, “I want to keep seeing you. I can’t stop. Because, believe it or not, I'm in love with you.”

Wanda feels as though the ground has been pulled from under her feet. Every instinct tells her to run, but she knows that this won’t have an ending if she does. Wanda swallows dryly and closes her eyes, trying to piece together a strategy, a way to get through him, a way to get out of this unscathed, a way to ensure he won’t tell anyone about this when she leaves.

“I-I believe you,” she starts. “I think I’ve always known, no—felt, that you l-love me.” Vision nods to her words, his lips curling into a hopeful smile.

“But I have to be honest with you, too,” she continues, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I took advantage of those feelings, Vision. I knew, deep down, that you felt this way and I still... I still let it happen. And for that, I'm deeply sorry.”

He stiffens at her words, a frown forming on his brow. “Wanda—”

She raises her hand, signaling for him to let her finish. “I don’t love you. It's Y/N. It's always been her. From the very start. What happened between us, it was a mistake, one that I haven't forgiven myself for. Especially because of what it means for Y/N.”

She takes a shaky breath, looking into his eyes earnestly, “You deserve someone who can return your feelings, who can love you wholeheartedly. You're a handsome, intelligent, passionate young man. There are many out there who would consider themselves lucky to be with you—”

But Vision vehemently shakes his head, unwilling to accept it, refusing to acknowledge their end. “I want to keep seeing you.”

“You can't,” Wanda insists, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. “It's over.”

Vision's eyes flash dangerously, the calm veneer shattering in an instant. He takes a step forward, trapping Wanda with a threatening look.

“You think you can just fuck me and then discard me like nothing?!” he hisses.

Wanda backs up, startled. She feels her control starting to slip away. “Of course not. I… you were my friend. I cared—I care about you. But I shouldn't have let it get this far.”

He scoffs, not a word of hers reaching his ears. “So, it's all a game to you? You get to decide when to play and when to stop?”

“No, it's not a game,” she replies, desperate for him to understand. “But I can't keep lying to myself or to you. I can't keep hurting Y/N or you.”

His gaze snaps back to hers, and there's a glint of something dark and foreboding in his eyes. “Maybe you should've considered the consequences of your actions, Wanda.”

She swallows hard, sensing the danger in his voice. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe Y/N should know the truth,” he surmises, his voice dripping with malice. “Maybe she should know exactly who she's been sharing her bed with.”

Wanda feels like she might faint anytime. Panic rises, threatening to choke her. “Vision, please,” she pleads, “you can't do that.”

His eyes remain steely. “Why not? She deserves to know, doesn't she?”

Wanda takes a shaky breath, grappling for words, trying to appeal to his sense of reason. “Yes, she does. But not like this. Not from you. If anyone should tell her, it's me.”

“But you'll never tell her,” Vision says, his voice laced with accusation. “I see it in your eyes, Wanda. You don't have the balls to be honest with her. Because you're afraid. You're afraid she'll walk away.”

Both are poised in this high-stakes game, each waiting, anticipating, guessing what card the other will play next. For a heartbeat, Wanda feels disarmed, Vision's threat too sharp and too real. But as the seconds tick by, something shifts in her. She straightens up, pulling herself to her full height, and when she speaks, there’s no fear or hesitation in her voice.

“You’re not going to tell her,” she declares.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Because you know I'll hate you,” she says. “And if there's even the slightest chance that I'll change my mind, then doing that wouldn't be it.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, but the look in his eyes betrays his indifference. “You think there's a chance you'll change your mind?”

“No,” Wanda says firmly. “It's over.”

The defiant look that had been painted across Vision's face begins to crack. He looks smaller somehow, like he's shrinking back into himself. His shoulders slump, and the facade of control and confidence he'd donned earlier dissolves. The boy from yesterday, the one who seemed so heartbroken, returns in full force.

“Wanda,” his voice trembles, almost as if he's on the verge of tears. “Please, I’m all alone. I told you my life, I told you about my parents, nobody in this world cares about me! And I know I said I’m fine and I can survive without them, but why should I when I have you, Wanda—”

She can't help but pity him, his brokenness tugging at her heartstrings. But she knows that relenting now would mean drowning in the same cycle all over again.

“Vis, you will find someone. Someone who isn't me, someone better for you. Trust that.”

“How can I want someone else when I had you,” he insists with unwavering stubbornness, his eyes growing more frenzied, and Wanda shivers at the unsettling sight before her.

“Maybe you had me,” she says tearfully as she decides to finally drive a stake into his heart. “But not in every way like Y/N has me.”

Before she can register what's happening, Vision's hands are suddenly around her waist, pulling her forcefully against him. The initial shock and his assertiveness make her freeze for a split second. As he starts rubbing himself against her, she feels the unmistakable hardness growing between them.

“Vision, stop!” she protests, trying to wriggle free.

“Can you feel that?” he whispers hoarsely, clearly misinterpreting her struggle, mistaking it for their first time together and all the other times she eventually gave in to his advances. “That's how much I want you. Need you.”

Tears of frustration and fear spill from her eyes. “This isn't right, Vision. Let go,” she pleads, placing her hands against his chest and pushing with all her might.

“Wanda, just—maybe if we—you’ll see. You’ll see that you love me, just let me—”

Her fist connects with his cheek, causing him to stumble a few steps away. For a while, they both freeze in horror, the gravity of the situation sinking in. In his moment of delirium, Vision comprehends what he was about to do to the woman he claims to love, and guilt claws at his guts, wrenching his insides.

On the other end, Wanda's chest heaves with shock and distress. She stands there momentarily paralyzed, the aftershocks of the ordeal still rippling through her. Tears blur her vision, but she refuses to let them fall, not now, not when she needs all her strength. Her gaze meets Vision's only briefly before she pulls herself together. She wraps her arms around herself, and then rushes to the front door.

He yells, “No, Wanda! I…please let’s just—”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears.

Wanda goes straight home after the whole fiasco with Vision. She locks herself in the bedroom, crying for hours, paying no attention to Sparky's worried barks from outside the door. She tells herself that it could be worse, trying to talk herself out of going to the police. If she goes to the authorities, she'll have to give a statement. This would inevitably lead to an investigation into their past, revealing things she doesn't want you to know.

Drained from crying, Wanda's eyelids grow heavy. As sleep overtakes her, vivid dreams flood her mind, each presenting an alternate reality. In one dream she’s back in Vision’s apartment, his arms wrapped around her like a chain, and every time she tries to pull away, the chains grow tighter, pulling her back into his prison. A cold dread settles in her heart, as she struggles and fights, desperate to wrench herself free from his grasp.

The next scenario places her in a world without Vision. It's a life untouched by his influence, where she walks unfamiliar streets and meets faces that do not recognize her. Then, in a sudden shift, she's back at her office on that fateful evening, but the events unfurl differently. The temptation of Vision never materializes. She leaves, unburdened by the weight of a choice she didn't make.

But the relief is short-lived. These dreams meld into a harrowing nightmare, saturated in hues of red and black, where you discover her secret. She tries to call out, to explain, to mend, but her voice is swallowed by the deafening silence of the dreamscape.

In her seemingly endless silent screams, Wanda wakes up. The remnants of her haunting dreams still clutching at her, making her jolt upright. The fabric of the sheets sticks to her body, drenched in a cold sweat. Each breath comes in ragged gasps, as if she's been submerged underwater and has just broken the surface.

The bedside clock reads half past six and panic sets anew. You could be home in an hour, given that you haven't been extending your hours at the office lately. The realization pushes her into a frenzied urgency. Throwing off the sheets, Wanda rushes to the ensuite bathroom. The cold stream from the shower brings a semblance of clarity, washing away the residues of her nightmares.

Wrapped in a towel, with droplets still cascading down her skin, she dashes to the kitchen. She pulls out ingredients, her hands working methodically, albeit with a haste that speaks of her need to keep busy, to keep the demons of her subconscious at bay. She manages to prepare a simple but appetizing meal, but the mere thought of taking a bite threatens to turn her stomach inside out.

The dining table is set, and she seats herself, her gaze distant once again. And she stays there, lost in her own head.

It’s how you find her when you get home at 9:15 in the evening.

You’re quiet tonight. Alarmingly so.

She asks you how your day was, and you respond tersely with a simple, “Good.” She attempts to get you to elaborate, maybe share an anecdote like you usually do, but you dismiss her efforts, attributing your lack of interest in conversation to fatigue.

But Wanda can’t stand the silence. When it’s quiet, the voices in her head are even louder.

So she decides to tell you about her day instead. She swears to herself this is the last day she’ll ever lie to you with a straight face. She talks about the final projects her students have begun submitting. As she describes her favorites, your interest particularly sharpens when she mentions the portrait projects. You pepper her with questions, mostly about who made which, and Wanda offers names that probably wouldn't mean much to you.

After you finish eating, you thank her with a small smile. It's only then that Wanda feels she can breathe again. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours, her longing evident. However, just as she tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Showered without me?” you tease, but it lacks the usual lilt in your voice. She simply nods in response. You playfully tap her nose, whispering, “Naughty girl.” Then, without another word, you're on your feet and heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

She proceeds to clear the table and wash the dishes, all while the sound of the shower fills her ears. She allows herself a small smile, chiding herself for being overly affected by her dream.

By the time she makes her way up to join you, she discovers you've already drifted off, turned away from the vacant space beside you that's meant for her.

She’s positively shaking as she takes the short walk from the parking lot to the classroom, the dread building up inside her like a swelling storm. The thought of facing her class, and especially Vision, sends shivers down her spine. The recent events—the horrifically inappropriate advances and Vision's glaring sense of entitlement—play over and over in her mind.

Her feet eventually take her to her destination, but she remains outside for a full minute. The thought of facing Vision again is almost enough to turn her around. But another, stronger, voice reminds her of her duty, her commitment to her other students, and her own integrity. Moreover, she doesn't want to be alone today, here the haunting events with Vision could replay in her mind without any distractions.

She pushes open the door. It appears to be a typical day, with her students clustered in small groups, engrossed in conversation and seemingly oblivious to her arrival. She swiftly surveys the room and, to her relief, doesn't spot the familiar blue eyes that usually fixate on her by this time.

When she starts her lecture on the final topic of the semester, it flows seamlessly. Still, the end of the course can't come soon enough; continuing here is untenable. She can’t keep teaching here, when these hallways keep reminding her of the mistake that almost cost her everything.

You've been leaving the side of your bed cold for almost two weeks now. Sometimes, your careful movements stir her awake, and she watches you, bleary-eyed, as you go through the motions of prepping for a run, a habit you've picked up quite recently. At first, Wanda would always ask where you’re headed and if she can accompany you. But you'd consistently dismiss her offer, always seeming in a rush to hit the pavement.

She thinks it’s good for you—the exercise. The only aspect of your new hobby that she dislikes is that you typically go before sunrise, where everywhere is still too dark and eerily quiet, and her imagination runs wild of all the worst things that could happen to you while you’re out on your run.

And Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she can't help but internalize the consistent rejection of her offers to join you. She wonders if there's a deeper reason behind it. When you're out and she's left alone with her thoughts, Wanda can't help but let the guilt seep in. Has she become too transparent? Has something given her secret away? Did you find out about her affair? How would she even begin to explain?

But then you return after your run, with a sense of tranquility, as though the exercise had been a cathartic release of some pent-up tension. However, something still feels amiss. Perhaps it's because she hasn't slept with you since the night she discovered she wasn't pregnant with Vision's child, and all that has passed between you are brief, perfunctory kisses here and there. She wants to discuss it with you, but she doesn't want to appear too eager or guilty. Instead, she remains committed to being a good wife. And even though being a good wife was never about housework, Wanda ensures that every corner of the house sparkles and shines.

Meanwhile, you go about fulfilling your own household responsibilities seamlessly. From tending to minor repairs to ensuring that bills are paid on time, you continue with the routines that have always defined the dynamic of your relationship. There's no sign of resentment or dissatisfaction in your actions. It's almost as if everything is back to normal. This confounds Wanda even more. She starts to question her own memory, wondering if perhaps this distance, this new version of you, has always been present and she just never realized it. It's possible that you've become this way while she was preoccupied with her affair, and she didn't notice how you slowly adjusted to her unavailability.

Of course, she only has herself to blame. She's determined, however, to rectify it and make it up to you.

Which is when the idea strikes her. The dream vacation to Hawaii that both of you often fantasized about but never took due to financial constraints and a tight schedule. With the money from her teaching job, she now has the means to turn that dream into a reality. A surprise trip might be the perfect remedy to rekindle the connection that has worn out due to your busy lives and... her unfaithfulness.

She knows it doesn't atone for her sins, but it's a step in the right direction.

It should have been the perfect day for her surprises. She has two of them—the surprise trip and the news of her resignation from the university. She had just handed you the box with all the Hawaii trip details, and you were about to dive in, when there was a knock at the door.

Two men in dark suits have arrived at the house, looking for her. Detectives—Rogers and Barnes. Wanda uncovers the real reason behind Vision's absence from school, and it wasn't due to personal family matters or a decision to pursue education elsewhere.

He's been in an accident, and they suspect foul play.

Their questions start off simple, touching on the basics. But soon, they feel like piercing arrows as they delve into the phone calls between them, how close they were, and if she ever set foot in his apartment. Throughout the interrogation, Wanda manages to keep a straight face, though deep down she knows she probably can't fool detectives of their caliber. Yet, she silently prays that you don't see past her mask.

“That’s enough,” you interject firmly. “My wife has answered your questions. Unless there’s anything else directly related to your investigation, I believe we’ve covered everything.”

Your intervention when their questions grow more intrusive suggests she's managed to keep you in the dark. The realization that you're still on her side floods her with immense relief.

“Very well. Thank you both for your time,” Rogers says.

But Wanda isn’t done. She has her own questions. She needs to know if Vision's involvement with her is the reason they're here, probing. She wonders if he might have informed the authorities about their inappropriate relationship, and if that somehow relates to his current situation.

“Wait!” Wanda exclaims, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She contemplates asking her burning questions, but with you observing from the side, she suppresses her urge to do so. Instead, she conveys her worry—she is, after all, his teacher.

“Is he… is he okay?”

Wanda's complexion turns ashen upon catching the look on Barnes' face, instantly realizing he's fully aware of her and Vision's relationship. She can barely hear Roger's response, her blood rushing in her ears.

“…that he’s stable. However, he remains in a coma. It’s uncertain when or if he’ll wake up, but let's hold onto hope.”

Oh.

Her secret's safe—for now. But she... she has to be certain. She needs to tie up any loose ends, if there are any.

It's reckless to visit Vision's apartment in daylight, especially right after a visit from the police.

Exiting her car, Wanda's sandals softly scrape against the ground. She pauses to scan her surroundings, her gaze flitting from one building to another. The neighboring houses and apartment complexes stand silent, their stillness almost eerie, as if they've been forsaken. She knows that not many reside in this part of the town, a fact that had made Vision's apartment an ideal hideaway for their secret meetings.

She cautiously approaches Vision's unit, her hand shaking slightly as it reaches for the door knob: locked. A memory surges—Vision handing her a spare key during one of their early encounters. Retrieving it from her bag, she hesitantly fits it into the lock, preparing herself for what she might find beyond the door.

It opens with a muted creak, and a blanket of darkness envelops her. Hesitating at the threshold, she fumbles for a light switch, her fingers brushing against the cool wall before finding it. She'd half-expected Vision's belongings to be packed up, perhaps by a landlord who wanted to move on from the situation. But everything appears untouched, as if frozen in time; dust hasn't settled, and the items scattered about give no indication that the place has been vacant for weeks. It occurs to her that the ongoing investigation might be the reason the apartment remains untouched.

Wanda moves quickly, knowing she shouldn’t linger. Heading straight to the bathroom, she swiftly gathers her toothbrush and a few other personal items she had left behind. As she emerges, her gaze is drawn to the corner where Vision's easel stands. It used to hold a portrait of her, a work he'd wanted to submit for his final project, capturing her in a light she had never seen herself. But now, it’s empty.

A cold rush of panic seizes her. She clutches the edge of a table, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Had Vision decided to move the painting for some reason? Or worse, had the detectives seen it and taken it as evidence? The painting wasn’t just art; it was tangible evidence of their affair.

But then, in the midst of her mounting fear, a memory jolts her—there was another painting, the one Vision had purchased from the gallery where she used to work. With a newfound urgency, she hurries to his bedroom. The scene is disarrayed, with sheets and pillows strewn about. Ignoring the mess, Wanda goes directly to the cabinet where she remembered he last stored it. She yanks open the doors, and her eyes dart around, searching, but the painting is nowhere to be found.

Desperation grips her. If the detectives come across either painting, they'd have more reasons to scrutinize her further than she's comfortable with. Such involvement would be near-impossible to hide from you. Wanda proceeds with caution, scanning the apartment for any lingering items that could connect her to Vision. Unexpectedly, she finds a piece of her lingerie nestled within his sock drawer. Swiftly, she snatches it up. Before departing, she meticulously wipes away any fingerprints from the surfaces she's touched, then dashes to her car.

Once inside, she pauses to draw several deep, steadying breaths. It's overwhelming to think that this is now her reality, teetering on the brink of exposure.

She eventually finds herself falling off the edge when she discovers Natasha’s email on your laptop, mere moments after the crushing realization that you hadn’t bothered to open her gift.

Her instinct is to craft a lie. She searches her mind rapidly, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for the intimate handhold. Maybe she could say it was an old friend from the past, or perhaps a distressed student she was comforting. But one glance at the photo and she knows, deep down, that any excuse would fall flat. The way Vision looks at her, with such unmistakable affection and wonder, betrays any innocence she might claim. Trying to explain this to you or anyone else would be an exercise in futility.

Wanda had played out various scenarios in her mind about how you might discover the truth, but she never imagined it would be through seeking the expertise of your best friend. It was perhaps naive, but she had hoped you wouldn’t notice anything or, if you did, that you'd confront her about it.

But why would you come to her? She's been pushing you away for months, and the only time she truly showed you how much you mean to her was when she was so relieved that she wouldn't be carrying the consequences of her indiscretions in her womb.

In case you need them, the subject of the email says. Need them for what? Wanda wonders. From the way Natasha worded the message accompanying the photos, it doesn't appear you're just discovering the truth now.

No, it seems that you’ve known for a while. Which means—

The pieces fall into place, a chilling realization creeping over her. Wanda's breath catches as she pushes the laptop away, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The way you had carried yourself, especially around the police—it was far too serene, too measured. When they mentioned Vision's name, you didn't so much as flinch or even show a flicker of surprise.

Her heart beats painfully against her ribs. The calm demeanor, the calculated way you’d been moving about—it wasn't out of ignorance. You knew. And for how long? The thought terrifies her. How many days or weeks has she been living this lie while you watched, silently knowing everything?

Your silence, amplifying her betrayal, eats away at her conscience. The quiet before the storm, she thinks. And she's right in the middle of it.

“Wanda?”

She’s hiding in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, practicing a smile and a thousand more expressions even though she's barely holding it together.

“Wanda.”

She couldn't shake the thought of you knowing. Did you have any involvement in Vision's accident? You've never intentionally hurt even the smallest creature, let alone another human being, right?

“Wanda!”

She nearly leaps out of her skin as the bathroom door slams open, and you stare back at her, looking just as startled and taken aback.

“Hey,” she says, forcing a smile.

You narrow your eyes at her, and she shivers under your intense scrutiny.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in here for almost an hour.”

Wanda nods quickly. “I'm fine.”

You continue to watch her for a moment, before saying, “Alright.”

Just as you're about to step away, Wanda remembers the plans for later. “About the dinner tonight,” she starts hesitantly, “with your colleagues from the bank... should we cancel?”

She's desperately hoping you'd say yes. She can't bear not knowing what's going on in your mind. The way you act as if everything's normal is suffocating her. Does she even still know the real you? Every moment you're not cursing her out or confronting her betrayal feels like an eternity.

But you shake your head. “No, let's do it. We already promised them.”

Wanda's heart sinks a little, but she nods in understanding.

“I'll go grab some wine real quick,” you say before leaving the bathroom, leaving Wanda alone once again with her thoughts.

Later, as the last of the guests leave, she's certain you've picked up on her distress, noticing how you kept glancing at your watch and drifting out of conversations. She senses your gaze on her as she escorts Scott and his wife to the car, acutely aware you're observing her every move from the bedroom window.

Though they're older than both you and Wanda, they've only been hitched for two years. Wanda can't help but wonder if maybe things are smoother for them because they waited to get married. But then a familiar warmth washes over her. The memory of how deeply in love she was with you surfaces. Even if you had waited six years to propose, she’s sure that had you suggested it within the first few months of dating, she would've said yes in a heartbeat.

Truth be told, she doesn't regret it now, the timing of it, and everything in between.

All she's uncertain of is how tonight will unfold.

The house lies shrouded in an inky stillness, almost like it’s holding its breath. She carefully climbs the stairs to the bedroom you both share, one uncertain step at a time. The door is slightly open, and you're standing by the window, your silhouette thin and brittle.

“What happened, Y/N?” she asks as she stops a few feet from you. Your eyes are closed, and your body trembles. Though she should be consumed by fear, her only desire is for you to open your eyes, hoping to find the person she fell in love with over a decade ago still there.

“What did you do? Did you cause his ‘accident’?” she continues. But you remain silent, unmoving. “Y/N?”

Still, nothing. Wanda is slowly but surely losing her sanity.

“Did you hurt him? You did, didn’t you? Jesus, Y/N. Talk to me,” Wanda pleads, and then out of desperation she screams, “Tell me what you did!”

“No!” You roar with a primal intensity, reminiscent of a wounded animal in the wild, and the sheer force of it makes Wanda recoil. But she doesn't move away from you. Not at this crucial moment, when she senses how close she is to losing you. “You tell me what you did!”

You stalk towards her menacingly, until you're mere breaths away, and Wanda wants to reach out and touch you, but she knows she'll be burned.

“How you fucked him over and over and over! How you lied to me… over and over and over,” you tell her brokenly.

“Y/N, please–”

“Don’t. You don’t get to talk to me now,” you say, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “You didn’t think I’d know? I wouldn’t feel it? I knew from the very first night. Because I know you, Wanda. Every thought. Every look. Every fiber of your being. I know you and I fucking hate you! I didn’t want to hurt him, I wanted to hurt you!”

The confirmation she's been dreading, along with the murderous glint in your eyes, saps the color from Wanda’s face. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, hand clamping over her mouth in horror. “Y/N…”

You try to walk away, but your legs give out, and you crumple to the ground, knees first, like a puppet with its strings cut. The tears flow freely now, unburdened by pride or anger. A raw, guttural sob escapes your lips, echoing the pain in your chest. Wanda, too, collapses, a mirror reflection of your despair, her body shaking as sobs rack her frame.

How could she have ever been afraid of you, especially knowing what you've been through? Beneath it all, she sees the woman she deeply loves, now appearing so fragile and torn apart, all because of her own mistakes. “I'm so sorry...” she whispers, her apology a mere drop in the ocean of hurt between you.

“Was there anyone else aside from him?” you ask suddenly, looking at the carpeted floor before you.

“No,” Wanda answers earnestly.

You offer a wry smile. “He must be really special then.”

She frantically shakes her head. He's not. No one is. It's always been—

“Do you love him?”

“No,” Wanda responds hastily, almost too hastily for your taste. And by the look on your face, she's crushed by the realization that no matter what she says next, your trust in her words may be irrevocably broken. “I thought I did, but no,” she admits. She can't bear the thought of deceiving you further and aims to leave no question unanswered.

“Did you…” you start, staring intently at the ceiling, and Wanda knows exactly what you’re asking even before it comes out of your mouth. The fact that you have to ask leaves her utterly heartbroken.

“...ever love me?”

This was her doing. The very second she acted on impulse and succumbed to temptation was when she truly lost you.

“I love you,” Wanda murmurs, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours, stubborn for her words to reach you. “I know how fucked up that sounds to you right now. But I do, I love you, Y/N.”

“You love me?” your voice falters, making you wince. “You have a truly unique way of showing it.”

How does she prove it? How can she make you believe? Wanda scrambles for tactics, for miracles, for a do-over.

“After all this,” you continue, “you might as well have killed me. Being dead might be painless compared to this.”

“Baby, please don't say that,” Wanda's voice breaks, choked by tears she can't hold back. She feels the urge to reach out, her fingers itching to touch you.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore. Even hearing you say my name makes me sick.” Your voice is steady, each word dripping with cold resentment.

“You can stay,” you say after a while. Wanda senses a fragile hint of hope blossoming within her. But it's quickly crushed when you add, “Stay in this house, for as long as you need. But I'm leaving.”

And it’s here where the panic sets in. The realization that she's on the brink of losing you entirely, not just emotionally but physically as well, hits Wanda like a freight train. The walls of the room seem to close in on her, and the weight of her decisions and mistakes press heavily on her shoulders, making her feel as if she's sinking.

“No,” she whispers. “Please, don't go.”

You start to slide your wedding ring off, and that’s when Wanda loses it. She launches herself at you, capturing your lips into a heated kiss. In the split-second it takes for the golden loop to slip off your finger, a flood of memories rushes over Wanda—the scent of rain as it patters on the roof of the reception, the song playing in the background as you and Wanda sway to your first dance as a married couple, the warmth of your hand intertwined with hers. Those fragments play in a demented, rapid slideshow, and time stretches and contracts, maddeningly so.

For Wanda, it feels like someone's drilled a hole in the base of her skull, letting all the sorrow rush in like a merciless flood. Everything else is white noise. For that brief instant when her lips slot against yours, you don’t push her away. Wanda pours everything she has into this kiss, hoping you'll feel her truth in it. But then, before she even has the chance to deepen it, you’re pulling away and it’s—

It’s over.

Stubborn as always, Wanda tries to hide in your neck, and you feel her tears sliding down your throat. She clings to you with all her might, holding on for as long as she can. But when she feels you gently place your wedding ring into her palm, her face crumples with a pain so profound, she knows she may never recover from it. And then you begin to rise, lifting yourself from the floor. As she instinctively clings to your leg, you take another step, causing Wanda to stumble forward from the sudden loss of support.

“This can't be the end. It just can't,” Wanda murmurs to herself like a mantra, as if repeating it will change the course of reality. She's almost certain you hear her, but it doesn't change your stride; you just keep walking away.

The ring burns in her palm, a searing reminder that her promise of loving and cherishing you always means nothing to you now.

Wanda can't quite figure out how, but you've chosen to remain in the guest bedroom for the evening. She'd heard the engine of your car roar to life, but then it fell silent after just a few moments. Peering out, she’d seen you stepping out of the car, phone pressed to your ear.

Who had you been talking to? An intense curiosity had consumed Wanda, making her wonder who had been on the other end of that call. In the short window they'd been estranged—no, just temporarily separated, because Wanda refused to believe that you'd entirely lost your affection for her—could there have been someone else? Someone waiting in line for their turn?

Now, she stands hesitantly in front of the guest bedroom door, hands clenched in her sides, torn between giving you space and continuing to fight for her marriage. She's torn, but not clueless. It's not just about barging in or holding back; it's about the aftermath. She stands there, frozen, trying to figure out which move won't blow everything to smithereens. Because the time she has with you is running out and there might not be a tomorrow.

Or a you and her. Ever again.

Wanda finally sinks to the floor, her back flush against the cold, indifferent wood of the door. Sparky, pads over, his little claws making almost no sound against the floor. He nestles himself on her lap, making his bed there for the night. She wraps her fingers around his soft fur, his warmth seeping into her, but his presence is a double-edged sword. As much as she adores him, he's going to be the only thing of you she gets to keep, and it's going to be a painful reminder from here on out.

In an act of despair, she presses an ear flat against the door, searching for the tiniest murmur, the faintest shuffle. Anything to tell her what's happening on the other side of this barrier. A barrier that was never there before. She's on the outside, and the thought that you're moving on, building a life sans her, is terrifying.

It's a cruel irony, she realizes. Here she is, just a few inches from you, yet completely and utterly in the dark. And so, she sits, hoping against hope, that at some point during the night, she'd hear the door creak open, and you’d scoop her in your arms and take her back.

She waits, because that's what love does—it waits, even in the darkest of times.

The next morning, Wanda wakes up, surprised to find herself in a bed instead of on the hard, cold floor. She doesn't recall making the trip, but the idea that you cared enough to ensure she slept on something warm and comfortable almost makes her heart leap out of her chest.

However, her happiness is short-lived as she opens the closet and discovers that some of your things are missing. To a stranger, the differences wouldn't be obvious, but she knows which shirt and trousers you chose, and she understands the implication. It means you won't be returning tonight, and perhaps not tomorrow either. When she goes to the bathroom, she finds only one toothbrush, and that's enough to make tears well up in her swollen eyes once more.

“Thanks for picking up,” Wanda says, her fingers gripping the phone tight, holding onto it like she’s drowning and it’s her only lifeline.

“Well, you've called enough times. Figured I'd give you a break,” Natasha's voice, though distant, is biting, as frigid as the coldness that Wanda has been feeling in her bones these past days.

“I need to know where she is. Please.”

A sigh on the other end, followed by a chilling silence. “You think after everything, you still have the right to know her whereabouts?”

“She's still my wife,” Wanda counters, but it’s weak.

“She was your wife,” Natasha fires back, unrelenting. “The last I checked, people who love their partners don't sleep with college kids.”

The words hit Wanda harder than any physical blow could. She's taken aback, gasping for air as if she's been sucker-punched.

“I—”

“She loved you,” Natasha continues ruthlessly, “more than you ever deserved. And you threw it away, for what? Some fleeting thrill?”

Loved? Past tense? Had Natasha just assumed—

Or was that word coming directly from you?

Pushing down the slightest twinge of sympathy that threatens to surface, Natasha picks up on Wanda's faint, broken breaths on the other end. She can tell Wanda's on the verge, and it's familiar, too familiar. It's almost exactly the sound she caught when she was on the phone with you the other night.

“I never meant for this to happen,” Wanda barely manages to say.

“Well, it did,” Natasha snaps, her voice cold. “Intentions don’t change actions. And actions have consequences.”

Wanda’s voice comes off a little strong this time, thick with conviction. “Maybe I deserve this, Natasha. Maybe it’s my time to pay for all the wrongs I’ve done.”

“You think?” Natasha scoffs.

“But you... you’ll never get it. You’ll never understand why I can’t just let go, why I can’t give up on her,” Wanda says.

“And why’s that?”

Wanda's voice trembles with the knowledge that what she's about to say is a cheap blow. “Because you've never been married. You've never committed yourself to someone in the way I have with her.”

That stings, and Natasha can feel her own anger rising.

“Don’t think for a second that just because I’m not married, I don’t understand commitment, pain, or betrayal,” she says, voice low and measured.

Wanda swallows hard. “I didn't mean to—”

“Of course you didn't. But here we are, yet again,” Natasha cuts her off. She sighs, leaning back in her chair, “I’m not telling you where she is. She needs time, Wanda. Time away from you. If she wants to talk, she’ll find you.”

That's the last thing Wanda wants. She worries that distance will solidify your resolve, turning her from an immediate regret to a distant afterthought.

“I need to see her, Natasha,” Wanda pleads, “Just tell me where she is.”

“Why? So you can make things even worse?”

After a tense pause, Wanda plays her last card, “Remember that night after we all went out? The night you and Bruce...” she trails off, not needing to complete the sentence.

Natasha stiffens, instantly knowing where this is headed. “Don’t you dare, Wanda.”

Wanda forges on, “I never told anyone, never used it against you. I kept your secret. You owe me, Natasha.”

The feeling of Bruce's hand against her cheek, the humiliation, the denial—all of it comes rushing back. She never thought Wanda would throw that night back in her face.

“You're really going there?” Natasha laughs hollowly.

“I’m desperate, Natasha. I love her. I can’t lose her,” Wanda’s voice breaks.

The line goes quiet, stretching seconds into what seems like hours. Finally, Natasha exhales heavily, the weight of the decision clear in her tone. “I'll give you an address. Show up, try to talk to her, but if she asks you to leave, you respect her wishes. Understand?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She knows Natasha can enforce her terms if she wants, which means she has no other choice but to comply. “Understood.”

Natasha's parting words would later linger in her mind for hours.

“This doesn't mean I've forgiven you or that she ever will. But you get your shot. Make it count.”

Wanda’s been standing outside the diner for what feels like a long time. She hopes her outfit—a parka over a crisp white v-neck and high-waisted jeans—makes a good impression. A glance in the reflection of the diner’s window confirms her red hair looks glossy and radiant, cascading in waves down her back.

Time and time again, Wanda had turned over every conceivable strategy to win you back. But in the end, they all hinged on the one thing she feared most: agreeing to a divorce. The very thought threatened to break her from the inside, but her desperation to make things right, to show you that she's changed, made this painful decision a necessary one. Wanda had taken so much from you, taken everything you had to offer and discarded it carelessly. Now, it was her turn to give something back, even if it meant letting you go, legally.

She tells herself, repeatedly, that their love story isn't defined by a marriage certificate. They won't end just because their marriage does. She had to believe this; it was the only way she could find the strength to move forward.

Steeling herself, Wanda takes one step forward. Another. Until finally, she’s there.

“Hey,” Wanda greets, doing her best to sound casual as she slides into the booth opposite you.

You give a nonchalant nod, mouth full of your Reuben sandwich. “Hi, Wanda.”

The scent of your cologne is the first thing that hits her, and it’s... different. This one's sharper, crisper, with a hint of citrus, perhaps. It's as if you're purposely shedding parts of yourself that she's grown accustomed to, distancing yourself in the most elemental ways. There's a new watch on your wrist, sleeker than the one she gifted you on your last anniversary. Even the way you hold yourself seems altered, shoulders squared and posture more rigid. Every detail screams of a transformation, a conscious effort to morph into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But why? To hurt her? To move on? To forget? All of the above? It's been just a week, yet the differences are already evident. Wanda dreads to think how much more will change if she goes months without seeing you.

This isn’t going to be easy, and that’s putting it mildly. “Sorry for cornering you like this. You rarely return my calls and it’s been almost impossible to match our schedules,” Wanda admits.

You concentrate on chewing your food, trying to appear perfectly disinterested in what she’s saying. As you take another bite of your sandwich, Wanda studies her intently, looking for any fleeting sign of emotion, but there’s nothing there but a chilling detachment.

“Natasha told me you’re already talking to divorce lawyers,” she continues. She's woken up next to you for more than a decade; she’s not easily deterred by the display of indifference. “If you’re decided that it’s what you really want, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll cooperate.”

“Okay.”

Wanda notices the fleeting moment your eyes dart to her left ring finger before you quickly look away.

“I, uh, got something for you,” she says.

“No, thanks.”

Wanda’s heart sinks as you dismiss her before even knowing what it is. Determined, she pulls out the small ring box and places it on the table, feeling a pang in her chest. “But it belongs to you,” she murmurs.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your wedding ring,” she says, pointing out what you already know. Your expression darkens, frustrated that she misses the underlying meaning of your question—not about the ring itself, but rather its significance right now.

For a split second, Wanda harbored a fragile hope that seeing the ring might stir something within you.

But then you're shaking your head, beginning to say, “I don’t want—”

“I understand,” she says, her shoulders sagging as she leans back into the booth. “But I'm returning it to you, and I’m keeping mine. What you decide to do with it is up to you. However, holding onto it on your behalf isn't something I can do.”

The ring she slipped onto your finger five years ago held all her promises, all her devotion to you. So it hurt that you no longer accepted that, no longer recognized it as yours. And she didn't want to be the guardian of that pain anymore.

“Fine,” you say, reaching for the tiny box and Wanda releases a heavy sigh of relief.

“So, you've got your ring back, and I'll sign the divorce papers once they're drawn up,” she says, mustering all her courage for what she's going to say next. “And then, I'll come for you.”

She watches in surprise as you nearly spit out your coffee, a few droplets escaping past your lips. As you hurriedly reach for a napkin, Wanda can't help but offer a gentle smile, always finding your occasional clumsiness endearing even in the middle of breaking her heart.

Your wide-eyed stare meets hers, speechless.

Her smile fades slightly, replaced by a melancholic self-awareness. “I didn’t want to believe you when you told me that night that you hated me. But I guess that’s better than indifference.”

“I don't hate you, Wanda,” you say. She can tell you're telling the truth, and she smiles a little at that.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she laments. “Thank you.”

She takes a deep breath, knowing she needs to be clear, to lay everything on the table. “I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. On us. What we have, and I’ve thought a lot about it, is something I’ll never find in another.”

“I’m not telling you this to get a reaction out of you,” she continues, “I know you’re not exactly thrilled at the idea of me pursuing you, but,” she falters, the first sign of her vulnerability. “This time, I want you to know everything. I don’t want you to be blindsided by my intentions, so I’m giving you a heads-up.”

“Wands,” you say, the nickname slipping effortlessly from your lips, and she has to fight the instinctual urge to reach for your hand across the table. “You can’t torture yourself like this.”

“I’m not,” she assures you. “I just refuse to give up on my dream.” She senses the skepticism in your eyes, and she can't blame you, not after everything that happened in the recent weeks. You’re my dream, Wanda had confidently and lovingly written in her vows. The memory of that day, with the weight of those words, is as vivid in your mind as it is in hers.

She's always been the type to hold onto what she loves, never letting go without a fight. But seeing the dark circles under your eyes, the sunken weight of your cheeks, she knows the very sight of her is taking a toll on you. And so, she’s leaving, for your sake.

“I'll see you soon,” Wanda says, getting up to leave. She hesitates for a moment, considering whether to go for your cheek, if you'll allow her. However, the lack of response from you pushes her to take small, shaky steps toward the door and out of the restaurant.

It isn’t over. Wanda’s made up her mind: she won't give up on you. Maybe she's the villain in this story; and hell, there's probably someone out there, all primed and polished, perfectly poised to love you without the scars and rough edges. Except, she doesn’t care, even if she knows she’ll be diving headfirst into the storm.

She swears that someday she'll be on her knees, asking you to marry her again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #natasha romanoff #vision

597 notes · View notes

p3ndeja6 · 9 months ago

Text

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

stray kids x reader

bangchan! and hyunjin! edition (separate)

Content Tags: smut! cheating! toxicity! piv! riding! slight mommy usage! dom bangchan! sub hyunjin! creampie! squirting! jealous reader and jealous chan and jin! non established relationship! fwb type shit!

word count: 2.5k

NOT PROOF-READ (just lazy)

a/n: this is probably ooc since im not educated on skz fandom so please don't execute me for any inaccuracy. Also creating this bc we saw them at lollapalooza and started brainstorming after leaving the festival LMAO (they were all so fine)

Inspired by: (my favorite) song B.A.S by Megan Thee Stallion..

☆ dedicated to my best friend @lilmeowneow ☆

Bangchan

Ever since you’ve been sleeping around with chan and found out that you werent the only one who also has been fucking him; you wanted to be sad about it but you knew better… way better. So if he can sleep around with other girls, you can too and sleep with the other guys in your DMs. They were all great really, made sure to let them who really was in charge, but deep down you loved the way chan fucked you senseless everytime. He was the only one you would obey to when he told you to turn around and take it. The way he would make you feel, it was like no other guy has made you feel before, the way he would be gripping your thighs as he pounded into you tight, wet, cunt.

But you had to keep the charade going.

One night you were in your apartment waiting for a guy that slide into your DMs for a quick fuck, he was cute and tall, might as well. You were getting ready and preparing the drinks into your room when you got a phone call, you looked at the caller ID and it was no other than chan, you chuckled debating to answer. But the guy was about to arrive soon. Fuck it

“Hello?” “ hey girl” “hi chan what brings this phone call?” “well nothing really wanted to know how you were doing and was wondering if you were free tonight?” you smiled, you knew what that meant, but you had to stay strong. “Ooh yeahh, no i'm actually busy at the moment-”

At the exact time the doorbell rang, “what do you mean?” you walked towards the door and opened it to see him holding flowers, you smiled and let him in. “thank you so much for the flowers r/n!” you said into the phone to make sure you heard.

On the other line he grew suspicious and was taken aback to have heard a male on the other side of the line. “Y/n? Do you have company over? Hello??” Y/n?” “If you want, just start heading towards my room and we can get started.” You saw him walk into your room and as he walked in you turned around and resumed the phone call.

“ so yeah chan i can really hang tonight im a bit busy” you slyly said. “Who are you with right now?” “nun” “nun who?” “nunya” you heard him groan on the other side of the phone. “Okay bye chan!” “no wait y/n-” you ended the call and blocked him.

“She fucking blocked me..”

Days have passed and you were lying around your apartment watching tv, just letting time pass by and watching the sunset go down. Looking at the beautiful ombre of red and orange colors filling your living room. Then you heard the doorbell ring. It caught you by surprise because you weren't expecting anyone today. You get up and peek through the peephole and see no other than chan waiting for the door to open. You giggle and open the door, he looks up and scans you up and down,salivating at the way you look in your “i don't care” outfit. Booty shorts and a big t-shirt that was cut from the top that slips down your shoulders.

“What a surprise to see you around here” you told him. “Yeah well i was just passing by and wanted to come and see you” “oh yeah? You wanted to see me?” “yeah of course” you let him in, not breaking eye contact with him. You eyed him up and down, wearing his black jeans and his leather jacket, seeing he was wearing his white wife beater. Feeling the wetness pool in your cunt. You look away to close and lock the door and once you turned back you felt a full body pressure on your lips, pushing you up against the wall. Kissing you harshly, gripping on your ass, “jump” chan says in between your lips.

He kisses you so passionately and roughly, he goes down your neck and sucks on your sensitive skin, he stops and looks at you for a second. “ I see he left his mark on you” you gave him a blank stare, “so?” still holding you, with his hands underneath your ass. “Can't believe you had another guy over” “oh yeah? Well i know you be fucking other bitches when you aint with me” he looks at you surprised that you knew that. You laughed in his face, “well I was just saying!, i dont give a fuck who you have over, but you have no need to lie to me, might as well tell me” “seems like you” “no i dont, he’s definitely not hotter than me so i could care less”

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his face and continued to kiss him, falling back down to the ground, you led him into your room and pushed him on the bed. He looked at you in lust, just waiting to be able to tear your tight pussy up. You take your shirt off, revealing that you weren't wearing a bra underneath. “Fuck baby” you push off his jacket as well and his beater. You were getting desperate, you needed him. It's been weeks since you had chan in you, the other guys couldn't compare to what chan made you feel. You took your shorts and your panties off and helped him get his off as well.

You pushed him down the bed, ready to center you cunt on his big, thick, cock. “Ughh just sit on it already” chan said as he pulled you down. You let out a loud whiny moan as you were stretched open. You wasted no time in bouncing on him, you grabbed onto his strong shoulders and bounced. You and chan were a moaning mess, your tits bouncing at the rhythm of his pace. You looked at him, smiling with your lustful eyes, he looked up and smiled at you and chuckled. “What's so funny?” you asked and at that moment he flipped both of you over and now he was on top.

He caught you by surprise, but you werent gonna deny his dominance. You could let him dominate you whenever and wherever he pleased. He grabbed onto your leg and threw it over his shoulder and leaned in. making him go deeper into you. “Fuck.. just like that daddy, m’need you so bad” “atta girl.. You.. take .. me .. s’so good”

he grunted going feral at the nickname you just called him. “Y-yeah? Daddy? When it comes from you it sounds better ""oh? Others called you daddy too?” you panted out and rolled your eyes. You tried to be mad but the way he was having his way with your sensitive wet cunt, you couldn't bear to start an argument. Hearing the pornographic noises of both your slicks being pumped in and out of you, and the sound of his balls hitting onto your ass. He leaned forward pushing your leg so far up, hitting you in that one spot that did it for you.

You soon start to feel that tightening feeling in the pit of your stomach starting to fuel up. You were about to cum. “F-fuck chan, im gon’ cum” he grunted and deeply moaned “s-shit hold on baby, just hold it, i’ll tell you when” chan kept pounding into you so relentlessly. Gripping onto your thighs so tight, leaving bruises on them, you couldn't hold it in anymore, the pressure building up was getting too strong, too strong for you.

“please! c-chan i can't-""one..more..second” tears started to form as you were fighting the urge from coming, you crossed your other leg behind his ass, pushing him slightly closer to you as if he wasn't close enough. “Y’yeah baby, you are such a good girl for me, no other guy can.. Fuck you like this.. You’re mine.. Only mine” you were looking away trying your hardest to keep in your orgasm that was so desperate to come out. Chan noticed and grabbed your face to make you look at him. “Hey look at me when im talking to you, no one..can fuck you this good like me, do you hear me?” “ y-yes! Yes daddy! You make me feel so good.. Only you!” “good..now cum for me pretty girl” the second he gave permission, you let out your loudest orgasm yet. The same time Chan came and pulled out to shoot it on your cunt.

Mixing both your messes, he then shoved it back in with his dick. Making you whiny-moan. He stayed like that, inside of you. Both of you are trying to catch each other's breaths, sweaty and hot. You hold onto him as you look up at your ceiling seeing white. You both stayed like that until he pulled out of you slowly, watching both your cum spilling out of you. “Only for me” he said in triumph. You let out a laugh and looked up at him. He was confused by you laughing.

You start to get up and get back into your clothes that were spread around your room, “nah christopher, i got some other guy taking me out for lobster and pasta later tonight” you walk past him, and he grabs onto your arm to make sure to get a good look at you. “What do you mean you got someone taking you out tonight?”

He almost looks hurt that after a night of passion, you are going to spend the other half of the night with some random guy. “Yeah well I've been hanging out with him some time already and I enjoy spending time with him, plus he takes me out on dates and buys my clothes” you told him nonchalantly. He looked exasperated, how could you!

“Yeah well I can too!” “oh yeah?” “yeah!” “Then why don't you do it?”

guess we both aint shit

Hyunjin

“You like that dont you?” you panted out. A moaning mess you were as you were on top of hyunjin. He was sprawled out on your king size bed. He was handcuffed to the bed frame, he wasn't allowed to touch you while you rode him. You were punishing him

You had found out that he was having sex with the sweet girl that lived next door to you. She was sweet and all but you hated her. No need to give an explanation why. He doesn't know why he’s being punished, you do though.

“Ple-please y/nnn” he whined. God you loved the whiny noises he made underneath you, you yourself tried not to cum by the sounds he was making, begging to release.

“C’mon jinnie, think why would mommy want to punish you this bad?” you said condescendingly. He looked away trying not to cum by your dominant persona.

You grab his face, squeezing his cheeks, holding him steady making sure he was looking at you. “No no no, i didn't say look away, did I?” he shook his head no, tugging on the handcuffs trying to break free, he just wanted to touch you hot, sweaty, skin. Grab on to your beautiful squishy thighs.

“N-no! I have n-no i-idea why!” he was practically crying at this point.

You stop your motion, making him open his eyes in a whiny confused look. “W-why did you stop?” “You seriously don't know why I'm punishing you?” still confused, he had no idea.

“ I saw you go to my annoying neighbor's house the other night. You got out of her apartment REALLY late; care to explain what you’ve been doing in her apartment for that long?”

He froze… he knew what he did. He had sex with her. Why? Because he knew that you hated her. You knew everything she did annoyed you. If you could do anything in your power to abolish her, you would. He knew what would have happened if you found out he’s been having sex with r/n. He wanted to push you.

In reality he was doing this to get back at you for sleeping around with guys that weren't him. He hated that you were spread open for guys that weren't him. He saw you hope out that guy’s black Challenger, pulling your skirt down. He knew, what other way to get back at you? Sleep with your annoying neighbor you hated with your dear life.

Still panting, “why do you hate her so much? She’s so sweet and she bakes cookies”

you guys weren't together but you were together, and you hoped nobody catched onto you guys

you groaned in annoyance, began to bounce on his dick. He moaned at the sudden friction, he was literally on the verge of cumming. “Oh yeah? You wanna know why I hate her sooo much?” you were panting at the rhythm of you bouncing on hyunjin’s big cock. “Because ever since you’ve been coming around, she has been trying so hard to get into your pants, shes not sweet, she's evil, and she knows that.”

you were angry, bouncing so aggressively on his dick, he couldn't keep up anymore, you’ve been teasing the shit out of his cock for almost two hours, he can't do this anymore.

“you’re mine!”

“y-y/n im gonna cum!” he whined-moaned. You were so into the anger you built that you didn't hear his pleas. “Fuck! Y/N! Please please!” he was being so loud you were pretty sure your neighbor heard. “Yes! Yes! Just like that please!”

You finally realized he was about to cum, you made sure he got louder for your neighbor to hear.

“Yeah baby? You wanna cum? Get loud for me then, don't hold back baby” you demanded.

This set of hyunjin off, he let out the most stomach-twisting, pussy-gripping, toe-curling,yummiest orgasm yet. You kept riding him until you were getting close to yours. “p-please n-no more!’ m’too much, c-cant” “yes im not done yet baby”

You were so close to your climax, just a bit more. You bend back putting your hands on his knees, holding onto something as you fucked yourself on his dick. Mouth gaping open, eyes rolled back, moaning mess, you were fucking yourself to him reaching for your high.

‘Mmh yes!, so so close baby” “fuck! m-me too!”

You leaned back forward to kiss him and moan into his mouth, you let go and cried-moaned out loud, cumming all over his cock and the sheets, squirting all over. He came as well just by seeing the mess you made on him, his cum filling you up to the brim once again. You rode your high, falling down onto him panting, feeling light-headed.

You both stayed quiet, trying to catch your guy’s breath. Once you finally relaxed you slowly slid out of him, both of you moaning and the loss of warmth. You plop down next to him, “hope this teaches you to not go fucking around with that girl” you said to him. “Oh yeah? Well i guess if you werent fucking that guy in his car, i wouldnt have” he spat back. You leaned up and gave him a shocked look. “H-how did you know that?” “i saw you y/n”

“guess we both aint shit”

The next day, you walked out of your apartment and ran into your neighbor, she gave you a scared and awkward look, avoiding eye-contact. You smiled at her

“I know you couldn't make him feel that way the way i make him feel, you wished you were me, you wish your camera rolled looked like an onlyfans of him”

“Fuck you”

“He already does and it feels great”

#x reader #smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bangchan #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #megan thee stallion #skz smut #stray kids #changbin #i.n skz #han jisung #lee know #lee felix

155 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 3 months ago

Text

R Epel Felmier - PE Uniform Voice Lines

Summon: I like this sort of outfit. And I'm not just saying that because I have to...

Groovification: You tired? Heheh, bein' a mage is all about building stamina!

Home: I love clothes that are easy to move around in.

Home Transition 1: I'd decided that I'd join a sports club when I started school here. There was a lot going on back home, so I never got to before...

Home Transition 2: When it comes to winning at Spelldrive, Captain Leona-san said it's all about strategy, not physique.

Home Transition 3: I guess I'm pretty good at flight magic. The sweetest and tastiest apples are usually on the highest branches where they get the most sun, so I'd use a broom to fly up and grab them.

Home Transition - Login: People often say I look like it doesn't suit me, but... I actually like working out, really.

Home Tap 1: I've been training, but I can't seem to build up that much muscle. I want to get all beefy like Vargas-sensei...

Home Tap 2: Apples are a good snack after exercising. They say that malic acid is good for shaking off fatigue, so.

Home Tap 3: I'm not really good at dancing, I think. Whenever we had a festival back home, I wouldn't really dance that much, so...

Home Tap 4: I'm so sore after the Housewarden had me join him for training... He said my body was too stiff and just flattened me out like a pie sheet.

Home Tap 5: Whaddya want, stop jabbin' at me― ...Ah! Ahem. Could you not tap me so many times?

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #epel felmier #twst epel #twst translation #mention: leona #mention: vargas #mention: vil

84 notes · View notes

h3rmitsunited · 4 months ago

Text

Hi tumblr TAD-poles!

I'm the moderator over on the TAD subreddit and putting together a little event for the 5 year anniversary of The Horror and the Wild which is at the end of next month. We've just reached 2.4k dear hearts on our humble little subreddit and wanted to invite over anyone who'd like to join for the "celebration". We'll all share a "Happy birth day" cake lol.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TheAmazingDevil/

Image text is below the cut

Image Text:

5 Years of Wild Horror February

February 29th, 2020 The Amazing Devil released their second album The Horror and the Wild.

Five years later, it still draws in new and old fans who savor the haunting melodies, powerful instrumentation, poetic lyrics, and scream along to the passionate voices.

To celebrate the upcoming anniversary with fellow fans, I'd like to propose a series of weekly events leading up to February 29th (sort of... we'll sacrifice March 1st in glorious celebration) to bring this community together and engage with some art, discussions, and enjoyment.

A new post flair has been added for this event.

February 1st-7th: Battle (Cries) of the Best Song

You've seen it on other subreddits. A daily elimination post of the least favorite song (gosh, is there such a thing?), leading up to one victorious winner (the first two days will take the highest two choices, 9 songs, 7 days).

February 8th-14th: Dear Heart Valentines

Have you seen the tumblr meme Valentines? Create your own Amazing Devil related valentines and comment on the pinned thread during this week! A couple examples in the images.

February 15th-21st: Lyrical Love

The Amazing Devil is amazing because there is so much stuff packed into each song, lines you didn't understand until the fifteenth listen, jokes that made you laugh out loud, lyrics that made you cry. Comment your favorites on the pinned comment thread during this week.

February 22nd-28th: Fan Art Festival

I love seeing the fan art posted on this subreddit, drawings, paintings, tattoos, embroidery, shirts, etc etc. You are all so creative. This week post your TAD related artwork, old or new, so we can all enjoy and appreciate your skill and creativity!

March 1st(February 29th): Happy Birthday, THATW!

Today, share what you'd like to celebrate the 5th anniversary, that could be your favorite band picture, more art, an album birthday card, a post about your experience with the album, a thank you, whatever. Let's enjoy together!

Also if you have suggestions on other subreddit activities or events you'd like to see, let me know! I've been happy to let you all do your thing on here, but also willing to take suggestions. Not much going on since there's not much new stuff from Madeleine and Joey these days! Hopefully soon!

Much love to all the dear hearts and happy birthday, THATW!

#the amazing devil #the horror and the wild #tad #joey batey #madeleine hyland #tad subreddit #the amazing devil subreddit

61 notes · View notes

brackishkittie · 2 years ago

Note

yeah it's still september but it's halloween time for me sooo

walking through a haunted house with abby and getting scared and clinging onto her every five minutes. her laughing and comforting you throughout the house and at the end ✨treats you✨ for being so brave🤭

in for it, abby anderson

— abby anderson x black!reader

synopsis: basically the request. 😭😭

c/n: just nastyyyy bro, car sex, fingering ( r!receiving ), pet names ( baby, babe, doll, sweet girl ), clit slapping, edging, and oral ( r!receiving ).

a/n: this was supposed to come out weeks ago but writers block kicked me in my ass omfg…

layout creds: @nysrage ( go check her out, her work is amazing btw. 🤭🤭 )

word count: 1.6k

it’s october and a cool festival opens up every year for everyone to go to, so you and abby decide to go since you guys go out to fun places as if it’s a tradition. after doing mostly everything in eachother’s lines of sight, abby looks at the new haunted house they opened up and her eyes just light up like a little kid looking at a candy store. “babe look! they opened up the haunted house.” she smiles wildly as she looks back at you. abby knew you liked scary shit, but you had your limits and haunted houses were one of them. you feel a frown spread across your face when you saw it.

“ohh!!…abs are you sure you can handle it?” you ask hesitantly, trying to kinda sway her away from it for now. “..yeah?? why do you think I’m trying to get inside of it?” she grabs your hand when you say nothing and walks you over to the line. “I know you not getting sassy with me abby..” you squint at her but she doesn’t take you seriously. “oh you do NOT wanna see sassy.” she laughs and you just roll your eyes. you guys talk half of the waiting time and before you know it, you’re at the front of the line. “enjoy the house!” the employee smiles at you two and lets you both in. not even 5 minutes of being inside of the house, you cling onto abby’s arm. “jeez..and you were asking me if I can handle it?” she laughs and looks around in awe, “these people need a raise, look at how much effort they put! the little ugly dolls are looking at me funny.” she says as she gets a good look at them. you guys don’t even realize that a person in a realistic ass zombie costume was sneaking up behind you guys because when you two turned around? all hell broke loose the way you screamed bloody murder.

“holy shit..YOUR FACE WAS PRICELESS!” abby starts laughing at you at you and you just frown again, “that’s not funny.” you sigh and look around again, hoping that whatever the fuck that thing was wouldn’t pop up again and scare you. “I’m sorry babe, but look, if you can make it through the rest of this house, I’ll reward you at the end. got it?” she wraps an arm around you and you cling onto her once again. she places a reassuring kiss right on your forehead and leads you through the house once more. “they put too much detail into this place..I don’t like it one bit…” you say while your grip on abby gets even tighter. “baby it’s ok, I got you. remember that none of this is actually real so you’ll be ok. I promise.” abby smiles at you and you just stay quiet, you didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath. “how much more longer do we have in here?” you whine, “not that long baby, cmon you can do it. none of this is real.”

you were ok for awhile, trying your best to keep your cool but the feeling of being watched made your stomach do flips and turns. the only thing that kept you at bay was the fact that you were holding onto your girlfriend, abby. “abby I really don’t like this.” you utter, still looking over your shoulder every now and then. “you’re a brave girl, aren’t you? we’re almost out baby.” she rubs your shoulder and you relax, you don’t feel as tense anymore and not even 5 minutes later, you guys finally make it out of that horrible place. “seeee?? no need to be scared, we made it out in one piece.” abby shoves you playfully while laughing at the face you made in return, “remind me to never ever come with you to a haunted house again..” you cross your arms and abby kisses your forehead once again. “who are you gonna cling onto then, hm?” you paused, she was right but you kissed your teeth, “whatever..let’s just get in the car, they’re gonna close soon and it��s pretty late.” you say to her, she nods and wraps an arm around your waist while you two walk back to your shared car.

“mmfgh— fuck!” you moan out, her fingers deep inside of you, while her tongue skillfully attacks your clit. her eyes never coming off of you, she’s been thinking about getting you like this for atleast half of the whole night. the way you clung onto her, the way your body pressed up against her, the way you just had her head spinning. she was so proud of you, her brave girl going through a haunted house with her and now she just wants to reward you. “abbyyyy..fuck- too much…” you whine, gripping her hair even tighter and bucking your hips, “you can take it, baby, I know you can..cmon doll, you’re brave aren’t you?” she says while she’s still ramming her fingers in and out of you, driving you absolutely nuts. you try to move back but she pulls you back by wrapping a strong arm around your leg, “don’t fucking run.” she mutters. her eyes darkening as she said it, abby looked feral. she slapped your clit and you flinched, biting the inside of your cheek. your clit was so sensitive from all the stimulation and she was aware of that. very aware. abby pulls her fingers out and shoved them into your mouth. “be a good girl and stay still. I won’t tell you again.” you nod and she takes her fingers out of your mouth.

abby slowly rubs at your clit with her thumb, holding and squeezing your left thigh with her hand while she’s holding eye contact with you again. she started rubbing your clit faster and your breathing hitched. “a-abby please it’s too much!” your back arches as you grasp at her arm for support and try to push her away, “so fuckin’ disobedient..” she groans and slaps at your clit again. she shoves her fingers back inside of you and her mouth latches back onto your clit, her tongue swirling around your bud and sucking harder than before, “abby I’m gonna fucking cum! fuckkk!” your hips buck again and as soon as you feel like your gonna cum, abby completely stops. “you can’t cum yet. you didn’t listen, so now you gotta beg for it baby.” she smirks, “sit up and get on my lap.” she pats her leg and you move onto her, and as soon as you did, she pulls your shirt off and immediately starts groping and sucking at your tits. abby looked feral, the way her hand moved down to smack your ass and make its way back over to your ache, she was all over you. as she starts fingering you again, she kisses you sloppily, your lipgloss smudging as she kisses you, and runny mascara tears rolling down your face.

“abby pleaseeee- oh fuck!” you moan out, feeling yourself reaching your high again, “you wanna cum baby? hm?” she slurs, and all you can do is nod as her half-lidded eyes watch you lose yourself from her just shoving her fingers in and out of you. “abby please let me cum..it’s too muchhhh!!” your hand grips at her shoulder and your eyes roll back from all of the stimulation. “go on sweet girl. go ahead and cum for me baby.” abby starts kissing and sucking at your neck while pinching at your sensitive nipples. the stimulation was sending you insane at this point. you look disheveled and completely drained, “I know baby, it’s okay. you’re almost there.” you felt your vision get blurry and your legs go numb as you cummed all over abby’s fingers. “such a good girl. I’ll clean up and get you something to eat on the way okay?..but first maybe get some clothes on because I may have forgotten that we’re in a parking lot…”

tags: @vnus-starr @mariefilms @machetegirl109 🤎

#brackishkittie #abby x you #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby x black reader #abby x y/n

841 notes · View notes

xxfangirl365xx · 7 months ago

Text

alright kids, gather around. I have some things I'd like to say regarding last night in a very organized list format

OVERALL SHOW THOUGHTS

Overall It was beautiful. I cried watching the stream. But sadly went to bed before it was over because I was feeling very unwell from staying up so late ): I missed blood,I'm not ok and Helena on stream but that's ok <3

MCR5,NEW TOUR?

-Did not expect them to release anything about that last night since it was night one of two. More likely they would do it tonight so I'm holding out hope for tonight since it's the more likely option

SOCIALS/ONLINE PRESENCE/POSTS

-Frank has NOT posted anything regarding MCR only dunes, which is very unlike him. As we know Frank loved MCR to death. He's the no 1 fan of his own band so I find it odd and very intentional that he has not posted anything about MCR at wwwyf only dunes

-along the same lines Mikey has not posted anything. Few weeks ago we got practice from him which was good, but all we have from him r 2 pics of him and his wife which r adorable, but not relating to MCR. also seems a little intentional to not have said anything about them playing at all

-MCR'S socials r DRY like bone dry. With swarm tour they posted things about "tonight were playing in (blank) at (blank time)" or something like that but they didn't post anything about WWWYF apart from when tickets went on sale for both days which is a little odd in my opinion

for all of them the silence seems ominous. Like they r trying to build suspense

OUTFIT'S, STAGE,GEE'S HAIR

-All black outfits head to toe, they looked good but it was very lacking black parade tbh (not a bad thing they looked so cute tho)

-STAGE-

-Only projections of spiders,tree (during cancer),swords,bridge (?),worms (?)

-SPIDERS PROJECTED

-swarm logo=fly

-spiders= eat flies

-"Witch" was leaked earlier this year. Paper kingdom was the album meant to come right after black parade. Their aesthetic kinda similar. Whites,blacks ect.

-some of the visuals like the swords was giving very paper kingdom 100% and if I rly did see a bridge projection in the background that's also very much the vibe. but most this stuff was done in short flashes across the backdrop

-Gee's hair-

-New haircut (stunning btw)

-new era? Gee had changed his hair for new era's. bullets/revenge it stayed pretty much the same apart from random dye jobs here and there but during black parade he got it real short and bleached it. Danger days ht dyed it red. hair is a big thing when it comes to Gee.

-New hair since shrine show (2019) pretty much. He's had long hair since MCR has come back together. U could argue it was to look nice but think about all the other stuff he's done that was also a big deal like umbrella acad final season and stuff. Why didn't he get a haircut then? Why now? and why was he hiding it?

-The last vid we got was earlier in the week the birthday one and he had the long hair still. It was recent like he did this JUST for the shows.

-i'm 100% taking this is a way of moving into a new era for MCR

MERCH

-some people were kinda bummed there was no new cool merch from the festival apart from the DEAD! zip up which is pretty cool ngl

-kinda looked like they were trying to get rid of older stuff before making something new perhaps?

-spending more time and resources on NEW shirts for a NEW album makes more sense than spending all the time and resources on designing new shirts for black parade when they can do that pretty much any time

HOPES FOR TONIGHT'S SHOW

I will not be staying up this time sorry guys. I slept 4 hours last night and feel very unwell from it. So i'll be sleeping tonight sadly but here is my hopes and predictions for tonight.

-MCR will play just like last night with the visuals and stuff but will maybe play one new song or announce it some how with the backdrop and "Paper Kingdom" will be announced to be released on OCT. 31

-Their socials will go live with all the info immediately

-Shortly after the album comes out there will be tour dates announced for spring/summer of 2025 INCLUDING warped tour

-END-

thanks for listening to my rambles if I think of more i'll add it to the list but I wanted a cohesive place to put all my findings and thoughts to share

#my chemical romance #mcr #my chemical fucking romance #gee way #g way #gerard way #ray toro #mikey way #frank iero

95 notes · View notes

trixie-in-wonderland · 5 months ago

Text

Event Theme Song 🎵

my main account: @trixiegalaxy

a fanfiction TWST Christmas event based off the game, Bridge to Another World: The Christmas Curse, with a female reader/MC.

Plot; After boarding the Polar Express, (Y/N), Grim, Ace, Deuce, Epel, Vil, Rook, Azul, Ruggie, Kalim, Lilia, and Idia find themselves in the north pole where a huge Christmas festival is being held. But the festivities come to a halt when Santa's evil twin brother, Krampus, attacks the village and starts turning people into christmas ornaments. Later on, it's revealed that Krampus intends to seize control of all the magic in Twisted Wonderland in addition to destroying Christmas forever. Will (Y/N) and her friends be able to stop Krampus? Or will this be the last Christmas in Twisted Wonderland?

Story Info (Please Read!)

Book 1 Chapters - 1, 2, 3, 4

Book 2 Chapters - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Book 3 Chapters - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 [final]

Christmas Event Card Drawing Challenge

I thought it might be fun to add a drawing challenge along with my fake event, where you can draw your TWST OC or Yuusonas in your own event outfit. Please read my story and the challenge's rules before drawing anything! Event outfits are in Book 1 - Chapter 3 of my fanfiction story.

Challenge Rules:

If you do this challenge, please reblog this post!

you may tag your TWST artist friends when you post your drawing to see if they also want to do the challenge. But it's entirely up to them if they do it or not! And please do not tag an artist who has already been tagged!

When you post your drawing, please add the tag "A Twisted Christmas Story Event" and a link to this post.

Your drawing must be in the form of a character card! If you do an R card, just use the regular R card background. If you do an SSR card, you can draw your own picture or background for it. If you do an SR card, please use the following picture for the background (it was made by @k-looking-glass-house ):

You may add a full-body picture of your character's outfit in your post, along with your character card.

If you want, you can draw a Groovy version of your event card. You can also write your own Vignettes and voice lines to go along with your event card.

Please don't add any inappropriate words or pictures on your outfit! Such as curse words or nudity pictures.

Please do not add blood or gore to your drawing!

Do not draw someone else's OC unless you get permission or they commission you! If you do get permission or commission, please add who the OC belongs to in your post.

You can also add headcanons about what it would be like if your OC was in the event.

You may do more then one character for this challenge, but please post their event cards separately!

You may also make an event card of canon TWST characters wearing the event outfits, including the characters I add to my fanfiction story (but put them in the outfits I chose for them, it took a long time trying to find the perfect Christmas pajamas for each of them 😭).

Your character's event outfit must be in the form of Christmas theme pajamas. The pajamas can be in the style of a two piece or onesie. You can also do a night gown, but if you do, please give them pajamas pants underneath! The pajamas shirt must have long sleeves and the pajamas pants must be long legged.

The theme of your pajamas can be anything Christmas related: candycanes, christmas cookies, snowman, hot cocoa, penguins, Santa Claus, polar bears, etc. You can also mix themes together, for example: snowman & reindeer, Santa Claus & candy canes, or hot cocoa & christmas cookies.

The color scheme of the event outfit can be anything you want.

Your pajamas top can be replaced with a pull-on hooded sweat jacket, but the jacket must be the same Christmas theme as your pajamas pants.

You can make your character's outfit similar or the same as any of the event outfits I gave the TWST characters in my fanfiction story.

If you want, you can add a scarf, earrings, or necklace to your outfit.

Your character's hairstyle can be whatever you want.

Your outfit must include the following items (they don't have to be the same color or style as the following picture):

A santa hat - you can make the hat any color you want. you can add antlers, christmas lights, or anything like that to your hat. But if your OC is wearing a hooded onesie, you don't have add the hat, and just have your OC be wearing the hood on their head instead.

Mitten style gloves

An open front winter vest or sweater or sweater vest - But if you have replaced your pajamas top with a pull-on hooded sweat jacket, then don't add any of these.

Slippers that have soles on the bottom - the slippers can be plain winter ones or the cute character theme ones.

I'm tagging for this challenge; @cheekinpermission , @oya-oya-okay , @terminuslucis , @tickledpink31 , @cheerleaderman , @clovenoko , @deppytwistverse , @rizdoodls , @cozymochi , and @sunnysidesevenup

44 notes · View notes

coochiequeens · 10 days ago

Text

We believe that our culture is a living culture,” she said. “Unlike what western society puts in the history books, we’re not a past people. We are a continuation. And I think a lot of our listeners really resonate with that.” - Faithlyn Seawright

Faithlyn Seawright. Photograph: Destiny Green Photography

Native American women are bringing back facial tattoos: ‘We’re a living culture’

A collective is breathing new life into inchunwa for south-eastern Indigenous people across the US

Adria R Walker Sun 4 May 2025

Receiving her inchunwa was not something Faithlyn Taloa Seawright did lightly, but when the moment “just felt right”, she knew it was time. Seawright, who was the 2024 Miss Indian Oklahoma and a previous Chickasaw Princess, had long studied the tradition that she inherited from her ancestors.

In Choctaw and Chickasaw languages, inchunwa means “to be marked, branded or tattooed”. So receiving inchunwa, or traditional Indigenous tattoos, is something that must be done with reverence, Seawright said. The practice was once common among the south-eastern Indigenous nations (Choctaw, Chickasaw, Cherokee and others), but after colonization the tradition faded away for many.

Now, through efforts like those from the Inchunwa Project, a community-rooted collective that is working to revitalize the tattoos, south-eastern Indigenous people across the country are breathing new life into the practice.

Last year, the Inchunwa Project, which began in 2017, hosted its first retreat, which included traditional tattoo artists, people entering tattoo apprenticeships and south-eastern tribal folks who were interested in learning about tattoo revitalization.

Those gathered played games, wrote poetry, ate traditional foods and talked about the research they’d found. The retreat was a time for fellowship, but it was also one for action, in which people could share their research into the ancient practice and decide what they were going to do with it.

The Inchunwa Project met up with Chickasaw artist Jimmy Dean Horn at the Indigenous tattoo and music festival in Ada, Oklahoma, on 4 October 2024. Photograph: Inchunwa Project

“We met to talk about how and why we got involved with tattoo revitalization, where we want to see this project going, what would our full vision be and how are we going to get there,” said Seawright, who is a Chickasaw citizen. Some artists brought their supplies to the event, which led to a few tattooing sessions where people received their finger inchunwa, or tattoos, that have different meanings. Seawright, who had already received six lines on her fingers years prior, received her first facial tattoos at the event.

Her latest inchunwa consists of two lines on either side of her mouth. One line represents the fact that Seawright has entered adulthood and the other signifies that she is a young adult without children. If she has children, she will have three lines. Once she is an elder or has grandchildren, she will have four. The facial inchunwa is intended to grow with her throughout life.

Seawright said that the inchunwa session had been full of encouragement, with people gathering to witness it. “That’s really what help[ed] us to have that traditional aspect, to have support there, those that are there to give guidance: ‘Remember to breathe’, ‘it’s OK to cry if you need to’, ‘you need water’, ‘maybe it’s time for a break’.”

For Seawright, receiving her inchunwa reflected her commitment to her community and to setting the groundwork for being a good ancestor. The six lines on her fingers represent a personal promise to better herself, an homage to her siblings who are not with her in the physical world and the thousands of missing and murdered Indigenous women.

“I prayed on it and I waited for years for that moment to come,” she said of her finger tattoos. “The only way I can describe that decision of knowing when to get it is you just feel that pull, that emotion, and you just know that’s the time.”

Reclaiming a thousand-year artistic tradition

In 2017, about 30 Choctaw women and two-spirit people planned to walk the Trail of Tears and receive their inchunwa at the end to commemorate the action, their friendship and their commitment to community.

The group approached a wall of logistical questions: who would tattoo them? What designs would they receive? What did those designs mean? They decided to pause the walk and instead research and learn more, meeting online from 2018 to 2021 to discuss their findings. The Inchunwa Project was born from this research and collaboration.

While they initially considered compiling all of the information into a book, they realized a podcast would be a better way to reach people. “Since so many of us were Washington-based at that time, we would travel back to Oklahoma or to the south-east specifically for cultural gatherings,” said Lisa Fruichantie, the executive director of the Inchunwa Project. “It was a way for us to connect no matter where we were.”

In receiving and promoting inchunwa today, south-eastern Indigenous people are continuing a millennia-old tradition. “Tattooing is a really ancient art form,” said Mairin Odle, an associate professor in the department of American studies at the University of Alabama. “If you’re looking at south-eastern communities, there’s an almost thousand-year artistic tradition that you can look to for examples and for proof of it.”

Images and descriptions of south-east Indigenous people during the early years of European contact, such as a 1732 image of a Choctaw warrior with a painted face and tattooed neck and torso, and an 1834 image of two Choctaw women with facial tattoos, refer to or depict tattoos. Three Cherokee men, known as the “three kings”, who traveled to England in 1762 to meet King George III, were all heavily tattooed across their faces and bodies.

Sixtowns Choctaw women with facial tattoos (Karl Bodmer, 1834). Photograph: Courtesy of Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma

People who receive inchunwa today can draw from their ancestors, using pottery, shell carvings and other artisan works from pre-contract, during the Mississippian Era, as inspiration for designs. They can also use modern works, from south-eastern basket weavers or stick makers, to create new meanings. “We can’t say for sure that that is what it meant to the ancestors,” Fruichantie said. “But we can say that this is what has come to us, and what [it might mean] for the future.”

There are key differences between traditional Indigenous tattooing and western tattooing. In the latter, it is common to use stencils, a tattoo gun and brightly colored ink. For many Indigenous tattoos, however, hand poke, in which artists make the images without a stencil as a guide, is more common. As such, receiving the inchunwa may take longer. “It’s a more intimate process between the person getting the tattoo and those that are giving the tattoo,” Seawright said.

Though older Indigenous methods included using garfish teeth or deer bones, modern practitioners caution against the potential of blood-borne pathogens and for ensuring a sterile environment. The decision on the type of method used – tattoo gun or hand poke – is ultimately left to the personal preference of the person receiving the tattoo. Seawright’s face and hand tattoos were both done with tattoo guns, but, she said, “it doesn’t make them any less traditional compared to someone else that did hand poke tattoos”.

‘A responsibility that I literally wear on my face’

The Inchunwa Project’s work in promoting traditional tattoos has brought deeper understanding to south-eastern communities. It is part of a larger effort around revitalizing traditions after the colonial era and centuries of forced assimilation.

“I was raised up to believe that nothing was extinct. Nothing dies. We call it going to sleep,” Seawright said. “My father was a part of our Chickasaw revitalization of stomp dancing and that’s what he taught me. He’s like: ‘There’s a time we stopped doing these; these dances went to sleep. But with the help of our fellow tribes, like the Muscogee and Seminole, we were able to bring this back.’ And so, I never thought of it as them being gone, they just went to sleep and somebody had to have that vision and bring it back and bring it back to the people.”

The Inchunwa Project and the community that has developed around it have connected the group “very deeply”, Fruichantie said. Last year, when the group had a table at the Indigenous tattoo music festival, a woman approached them and specifically referenced an episode of the podcast with Julie Cordero-Lamb, an ethnobotanist and member of the Chumash Nation who teaches traditional regenerative horticulture. “She said that [the episode] inspired such a sense of pride within her community,” Fruichantie said. “And that there are about 20 different women that have now received their facial inchunwa, which is really big because it’s such a big commitment.”

Inchunwa team members receive their ancestral markings at the Indigenous tattoo music festival. Photograph: Courtesy of Inchunwa Project

Revitalizing the traditional practice has an impact both on the person who decides to receive their inchunwa and the community at large. “I’m old enough to have had the conversations with my parents that a lot of people have had where it’s like: ‘Don’t get tattoos, don’t get your hair dyed, because that’s going to be a job killer’,” Fruichantie said. “It’s a big deal for people to get their hands tattooed, but even bigger on the face. I think that shows such a big commitment to their culture. We often say it’s a responsibility to my people and to my culture that I literally wear on my face,” she said.

Similarly, what’s most important for Seawright is the impact her tattoos have on the future generations. “We believe that our culture is a living culture,” she said. “Unlike what western society puts in the history books, we’re not a past people. We are a continuation. And I think a lot of our listeners really resonate with that.”

Seeing her two-year-old niece for the first time after receiving her facial inchunwa showed Seawright how important it was for her to pick up the banner of tattoo revitalization. “She ran up to me and she put her hand on my face, just lightly touching it and smiling,” Seawright said. “It was that little acknowledgement. It’s something that’s so spiritually moving. We’re bringing these back not only for our elders, but we’re making these new pathways for our future generations to have that be a common sight. For my niece to just do that simple move, it helped bring it all together. This is who it’s for.”

#South-eastern indigenous people #inchunwa #traditional Indigenous tattoos #Choctaw #Chickasaw #Cherokee #the Inchunwa Project #Julie Cordero-Lamb #Faithlyn Seawright

26 notes · View notes

zosan-secondchances · 2 months ago

Text

The Pirate King of the North: Part 19

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 (Special) | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22

Thank you for the wait dear readers! I totally did not re-write this five times and revised the images at least twice. I wanted to get it right. My writing was getting progressively too long and over-detailed so I thought I'd try to compact it a bit more.

Good day and enjoy!

To Zoro’s disappointment, Sanji didn’t want to take part in the Festival of Lights. He had insisted on helping Conis run the food stall for Pumpkin Cafe at the night market, wanting to use it as an opportunity to make more meals with the leftover sky shark meat and other foraged ingredients that they acquired during their journey to Upper Yard so that he could give them away as he didn’t want any to go to waste.

Zoro knew there was more to it than that. His gut feeling told him that the blonde wanted to distance himself from him and Law because he had a lot on his mind and, if the opportunity presents itself, possibly go someplace he shouldn’t be. The swordsman didn’t want to leave his side but Wyper and Conis assured him that they would keep him company so that he and the doctor could go about town and enjoy the Skypiean holiday. In the end, he gives in but only to fetch himself his own paper lantern to offer his prayers to the departed. It’s been a while since he visited Kuina’s grave and he thought that dedicating some time for her is the least he could do. Law joined him to fetch his own, no doubt to offer his prayers to Corazon.

At the strike of midnight, Gan Fall rings the Golden Bell, signaling the start of the main event. Skypieans collectively leave the market to begin their trek to find their preferred spots along the cloud river, either inside or outside town so that they may light and release their lanterns to float down the stream. With their own folded in their pockets, Zoro and Law waited by the city’s main gates where Wyper and Conis eventually met up with them.

Conis

Sorry to keep you waiting! We had a lot of customers. That stir fry Northy made was an absolute hit! Everyone’s calling it the new delicacy. He handed them out for free then gave away the recipe to everyone too! I told him he should write a book–

Zoro

Conis, where is he?

Conis freezes and stares at him in confusion while Wyper increasingly looks positively horrified.

Wyper

Shit.

Conis

Is he not with you?

Zoro grimaces painfully and Law slaps a hand on his forehead, nearly knocking the cap off his head.

Conis

But he said that he’s going straight to you two after we’re done at the stall!

Wyper

He clearly lied, Conis.

Zoro

You two promised to keep an eye on him! We were only gone for half an hour!

Conis

I’m so, so sorry!!! There was a lot of fuss from the residents after you left. When the citizens realised how nice he is, they all started asking him for autographs and then next thing we knew, there was a whole line in queue waiting and–and–!

Law raises a hand up to the now rambling woman who is clearly in panic and looks very guilty about the whole thing.

Law

Calm down. Take a deep breath….

Conis stops herself and follows his advice, breathing in and exhaling slowly to compose himself.

Wyper sighs and runs his hand over his face in exasperation.

Wyper

This is my fuckin’ fault. He’s very…persuasive. The guy knows how to charm like nothing else.

Zoro

Nice guarding skills there, Wyper of the God’s Guards.

Wyper

What the hell did you just say?!

Law

Stop it, you two. That's not going to help with the situation.

Did he say anything before he left? Do you have any idea where he might have gone?

Conis

He said he was feeling overwhelmed with all the residents asking him all sorts of questions and needed to go somewhere quiet for a smoke break. Wyper went with him but…

All eyes bore on the warrior who flinches as his face turns scarlet red. Zoro’s eye twitches impatiently at the man’s hesitancy to speak. He takes a step in front of him to urge him on.

Zoro

Well?

Wyper

We just…talked for a bit but then…one thing led to another and he… erm….

Zoro takes a sharp breath in but remains quiet to give him a chance to explain himself while Law simply rolls his eyes at getting an idea of where the warrior’s story is heading.

Wyper shifts uncomfortably and rubs the back of his neck. He briefly meets Zoro’s intimidating eye but averts his gaze quickly.

Wyper

We…went into the jungle… made out and… and he said that he wanted to make things more exciting so he said that he’ll just go and get…well, you….

Zoro shuts his eye tight and clenches his fists, fighting the urge to grab Wyper by the neck to throw him off a cliff for falling for something as foolish as that. Though he can't say that he fully blames him, having been seduced into doing something to the Pirate King's advantage in the past before.

Conis

Oh… Wyper….

Law

That does sound like something he would do…but why the hell didn’t you go with him?

Wyper

…He may have somehow coerced me to get tied up on a tree…. I had to free myself when I realised he wasn’t coming back.

Conis

Wyper!

Wyper

He’s fuckin’ hot, okay?! Give me a break!

Suddenly, Zoro grabs Wyper by the buckles of his armour and yanks him forcibly nose to nose.

Zoro

No, you had one job and you failed miserably!

Wyper grunts as he gets hoisted off the ground by the enraged swordsman. The crowd around them stops abruptly at the disturbance but the warrior chooses to not fight back. Zoro raises a fist to deliver a blow but halts, his fists shaking from anger.

Wyper

Y–you’re right. I’m… sorry, Zoro. I am. It’s never my intention to get between you two. He said you'd be up for it. I didn’t–

Zoro

That’s not why I’m angry at you! I already know that he fools around. I’m angry because he’s been through so much shit and now he’ll–

Realising that there is now a crowd surrounding them, including some of Wyper’s men, Zoro forces himself to release the warrior and calm himself. He growls and begins stomping off through the gates.

Wyper

Wait, let me help you look for him!

Zoro

No, you’ve done enough. Traffy, let’s go.

Law huffs in annoyance but follows suit, leaving behind an extremely flustered Wyper and a worried Conis at the other side.

—

Zoro trudges through the dark jungle in a rush, hurdling over thick bushes downhill off trail with Law tailing behind him calmly.

Law

Zoro-ya, do you even know where you’re going?

Zoro

No, but I'm never lost with him around. He's definitely this way.

Law

How the hell do you know? Give me a moment to scan. It’ll be much quicker.

Zoro

No. If he’s with who I think he might be, we’d get caught.

Zoro stops in his tracks and holds a hand up, tilting his face left and right slowly. Law follows his instruction and keeps quiet, feeling frustrated that he doesn’t know why the swordsman is suddenly so confident in finding his way around. He tries using his observation haki just as he practiced earlier, but he detects no immediate presence in the area. There’s very little vision over this wilder side of Upper Yard and the only noises he hears are the sound of crickets chirping loudly and the trees’ rustling leaves in the wind.

After a short pause, he feels a subtle sensation in the air but it goes as quickly as it came. It felt like a soft flutter of a heartbeat that waves past them.

Law

Is that–?

Zoro

That’s him.

Zoro continues his way in the general direction where the source of the sensation came from with the doctor tailing behind him, slicing dense foliage out of the way as he walks.

Law

I can’t feel it anymore. I thought you can only pick up the presence if someone is nearby?

Zoro

It’s… hard to explain.

The two take a brief pause in conversation as they slide down particularly slippery rocks, taking the direction where the crow flies to find Sanji as quickly as possible.

Zoro

Before all this…back when we used to fight, he purposely got me lost so I have no choice but to find him. He enjoyed being chased.

Law

Oh?

Zoro

He does this…thing with his haki…. He flexes it but doesn’t hold it. He purposely keeps it weak to avoid unwanted detection and giving his position away too quickly. To the ordinary man and even most haki users, they can’t feel it unless you really focus on it. You felt it just now, right?

Law

It felt like a heartbeat. I would have thought it’s just a butterfly going by. You’re certain it’s him?

Zoro

Yes.

Law

I hope you’re right. Your sense of direction isn’t exactly the best.

Zoro

Shut up. He’s done this to get me to find him many times. If he’s using it right now, he wants to be found.

The sensation eventually leads them to a small river of clouds up on a hill. Zoro takes a moment to study their surroundings when he detects a familiar presence. Positive that it’s the person they have been looking for, he picks up the pace.

When he slices the last layer of thick foliage in front of them, he feels a wave of relief wash over him at seeing the blonde kneeling in front of a cloud stream by a clearing overlooking the White Sea. In front of him is a lit paper lantern.

The swordsman emerges from the treeline and stomps over, stopping a short distance behind Sanji. He opens his mouth to give him a word or two about running off on his own but notices that the blonde has his eyes closed and is in the middle of his prayers. Instead of interrupting, he shuts his jaw and crosses his arms, sighing in defeat.

Sanji

Join me?

Zoro’s eyes soften. He nods silently. When he looks behind him, he notices Law staring at the dark jungle where they had just been. There is a hint of concern on his face.

Zoro

Tra-guy, We’re setting off the lanterns here. Are you joining?

Law furrows his brows as he takes a reluctant step towards the dark.

Zoro

Everything okay?

Law

Y–yeah. I thought I saw…. Never mind.

The doctor turns his heel and joins the two by the river. Zoro and Law settle on both sides of the blonde, retrieve and unfold the paper lanterns from their pockets and light its inner wicks. They close their eyes and begin quiet prayers of their own.

After a moment, they lay their lanterns together to flow down the gentle stream which joins up with the larger body of clouds downhill. As they stand up and watch the three orbs travel, hundreds of lit lanterns begin to follow, flowing past them and lighting up their surroundings brightly. The stream eventually meets the White Sea, where the lanterns scatter from different points of the island.

Soon, the entirety of Skypiea is lit. The lanterns look like twinkling stars moving slowly below them–surreal and hypnotising. As the trio watches, fully tantalised by the view, they feel a gentle change in weather which lifts the lanterns up to the higher skies.

It was a sight to behold. It was as if the island itself was alive, and it felt like they were watched over by the souls they had prayed to. They stand in amazement, unable to tear their gazes away from the spectacular view.

Sanji

Thank you.

The two look at him curiously as he speaks softly. He sniffs once and wipes a small tear from the corner of his eye.

Sanji

I didn’t realise that I needed this. This was a good idea.

Zoro notices his golden hair shine brighter than ever before, lit by the lanterns past his head. When the wind blows the fringe off his face, he sees it. Two wide orbs–big, blue, and full of hope and determination. It looks as though he had suddenly changed like something sparked a fire inside of him. Unable to resist the urge, the swordsman reaches out and entwines their pinkie fingers, only to be surprised when the blonde clasps their hands together.

Seeing that the couple is having an intimate moment, Law turns his heel to leave them be. He considers calling the Heart Pirates to ensure their safety, and to suggest that they look up to the skies to witness the spectacle that is the Festival of Lights.

—

The following morning was brighter than the last. Sanji was up early to use the last of their stocked items to make his signature fried rice–a dish he liked serving on lazy mornings to his siblings whenever Cosette is out on leave. It was a good opportunity to revamp some of the older ingredients they had, and adding what's left of the meat should offer a generous amount of protein for the strenuous day ahead.

While plating the meal, he thinks of Niji and feels his heart sink. A wave of anxiousness washes over him. He considers leaving the swordsman and the doctor to continue on their own to look for him.

He was glad to have the opportunity to spend the night with the swordsman. He has made a decision that this would be the last. Though he might find himself unable to seek out future partners. His heart would be too heavy to do so.

Zoro and Law eventually emerge from their sleeping quarters and sit at the table. They eat in bliss, enjoying Sanji's delicious meal and drinks that never disappoint. Zoro caught up the blonde with the town's festivities that he missed out on, including details of his talks with the other Skypieans who he hadn't seen since the Straw Hats liberated the country from Enel’s rule.

After the swordsman’s story, Law clears his throat.

Law

I received news from the Heart Pirates last night. Nothing too urgent, but I have messages for you both.

The two continue their meals, listening intently.

Law

First, I gave them an update about your encounter with Doflamingo. Least to say, they're very worried about you and they wanted me to pass on the message that they hope that you're well and that your ex is an absolute ass–Penguin’s words.

Sanji

Aww, that's so sweet!

Law

Secondly, Prince Fukaboshi kidnapped Shachi for questioning.

Zoro and Sanji

What?!?

Law

He's back in the sub and is in good health. Though…a little shaken by your ex-fiance.

Zoro

His what now?

Sanji

Shush! Please continue.

Law

They talked it out over drinks after the whole interrogation. It sounds like they’re on good terms now after a brief misunderstanding. It was, according to Bepo, “a lot of fun”. Prince Fukaboshi had some intriguing stories about you and your siblings, Mr. Prince-ya.

Sanji

O–oh…

Law

Anyway, they've been trying to find you since Saobody. They've been tracking the Polar Tang and the army has finally caught up.

Sanji

And…what did they want with me?

Law

Apparently you have a very protective ally. He wanted himself and his elite army of fish folk to join us in our travels since he heard of your run-in with the Celestial Dragon. They've been keeping the Pacifistas at bay, and even deterred all of Doflamingo's forces from getting too close.

Sanji begins choking at a particularly large piece of meat stuck behind his throat. He punches his chest a couple of times before downing the rest of the contents with his glass of pumpkin juice.

Sanji

Of course they did. That bloody idiot.

You didn't tell him that we ate sky shark, did you? He's kind of a half shark. I never know how merfolk react to that sort of thing.

Law

Uhm…no.

But, Mr. Prince-ya, it really sounds like there's already a war going on. Germa and The Neptune Army against Dressrosa. The Marines have backed off. I think they're hoping that the three kingdoms will wreck each other by themselves.

Sanji

Not quite. They'll do the usual and swoop in at the last second to steal the victory so they come out as heroes in the papers. Then they'll ask for an “alliance”, demanding resources in return for their “aid”. Fuckin’ leaches.

Before we head off, doctor, I'll need to borrow your snail so I can talk to Fukaboshi. I must get my High General involved while we're up here.

Zoro

Another sibling?

Sanji

Ichiji. You’ve met him but Traffy hasn't. Remember the first time I proposed? He was the commander who escorted me. The man can win a war in his sleep. Never play drunken chess with the fucker.

Law

Right.

And…for the last bit of news is for you, Zoro-ya.

Zoro

Hah?

Zoro's food drops sloppily onto his plate from his spoon, his half-full mouth left agape as he stares at Law in surprise.

Law

I uh…got a message from Luffy.

Zoro

Luffy?! Tell me everything!

Law

No, I can't tell you everything!!! Most of it is…for me.

Zoro and Sanji

Gross.

Law

Ack–! You're one to talk!!! Again, couldn't you have kept it down last night?

Sanji

Absoluuuutely not.

Zoro

He's a screamer. He was feeling good.

Sanji

So was your ass, I bet.

Zoro

Surprisingly, yes.

Law

Oh for the love of–I don't want to hear it!

Sanji waves his hand in dismissal then wipes his mouth clean with a cloth.

Law

Anyway, he's officially calling to get the Straw Hat crew back together.

Zoro's jaw drops once more but in excitement, speechless from the news. He grins widely at that and begins laughing. Sanji smiles slightly at this, feeling positive that he made the right call. It seems as though fate has decided that today is their last day together, and that their paths will all divert apart as he predicted.

Zoro

FUCK YES! Did he say when?

Law

A year from now. He wants to meet up at Fish-Man Island with you lot since there’s a lot of political turmoil currently happening in Sabaody Archipelago. Apparently he's found a reliable chef and a skilled helmsman for the crew. Though…to be honest, he didn't sound too happy with the cook but your navigator gave him an ultimatum. Either you travel with one or she wouldn't rejoin. Something about maintaining food and resources.

Zoro's smile drops and he stares at his food for a moment, thinking. After a brief pause, he looks up, grinning.

Zoro

Whoever it is, since our captain has doubts, I'll get the current cook fired so Curls can replace him.

Law

Huh. Not a bad plan, coming from you, green goblin.

Zoro

Hah?!

Sanji

You'll do no such thing. My kingdom is at war, remember?

Zoro

Yeah but it won't be a year from now. I'll make sure–

Sanji

MARIMO!

Sanji angrily slams his fist on the wooden table. The two look at him with concern.

Sanji

I cannot, and will not join your crew. We've talked about this! I hate to break it to you, but wars can last a lifetime. I mean, look at us! Two decades of that nonsense!

Zoro

Sure, it's nonsense, but if you let us help you, I'm confident Luffy can help take down Doflamingo. I mean, you've seen what Nami is capable of and she's not even one of our usual fighters!

Sanji

With all due respect, Demon Warlord, but the Straw Hats are only getting together in a year but the war is happening right now and I'm already late for it. This conversation ends here.

—

Near the entrance of Upper Yard's city, the now chainless Sanji clasps Gan Fall's hand in his, placing an eternal compass and a strip of paper with a combination of numbers for his transponder snail.

Sanji

Thanks, old man. For everything. If your people need us for anything, Germa will answer your call. Or you know, if you just want to hang out and get high.

From afar, Conis bellows out angrily, making the two men flinch.

Conis

I heard that!!

Gan Fall

Bahahaha! And you with Skypiea. You will sorely be missed, my boy. How are your wounds?

Sanji

I'm still a little sore, but nothing I can't handle.

Gan Fall

Goodness, you heal fast! It must be that doctor working his magic! He's a good one.

And…before I forget. When you see the old girl, three buds should do the trick. You don't want to take too much or you'll be out of action for at least a whole day. Trust me, I've been there. I haven't heard the end of it from Conis yet.

Sanji chuckles as he claps Gan Falls shoulder and gives it a reassuring shake. They turn their heels then walk together, returning to the city's main gates where a crowd of residents have clustered around Zoro and Law to take turns saying their goodbyes. When they get close, the doctor turns to them and bows his head down in greeting.

Law

Gan Fall. Mr. Prince-ya, did you get directions?

Sanji

Partly. No one knows where Nola's old burrow is but I have a reliable lead.

Gan Fall

It sounds as though your Pirate King here knows how to find your Marine friend. You three are always welcome to return whenever you desire! I hope Wyper hasn't left a sour taste in your mouth….

Wyper

Hey!

Sanji

Hah! Not at all, my friend. In another world, perhaps it would have worked out. He's a good man, Gan Fall. But in this reality, my heart only belongs to one.

Gan Fall

Oh, to be young again! Next time you visit, I'll make sure to relay my share of romances. Believe it or not, I'm also guilty of the tie-up-and-run tactic that you pulled last night. Once on the receiving end! Hah!

Sanji

I look forward to it! It's so mean but it works so well, doesn't it?

Gan Fall

Indeed! The reaction is the best. Did you get a look at his face?

Sanji

No. By the time he realised it, I was already hundreds of leagues away.

Gan Fall

Atta boy!

Wyper’s face flushes deep red as the two kings laugh out loud at the expense of his dignity.

Sanji

Oh, don't be such a baby. We're extremely grateful for all of your help. Here.

Sanji leans over and places a soft kiss on Wyper's cheek. The warrior blinks at him speechlessly, feeling his heart rate increase.

Sanji

Are we good?

Wyper

Y–yeah. Be safe and thanks for the Germa flag. We shall raise it with pride. God's Guards stand with you.

Not far from where they stood, Zoro was bidding farewell to Conis and his other friends.

Conis

Safe travels, Zoro! I really wish that you could stay longer….

Kamakiri

We'll save some more sake for you next time.

Zoro

I'd like that. Stay out of trouble, you lot.

Aisa

Can you believe Raki still doesn't let me drink?

Raki

And you never will! Here, swordsman. I've brought your ride.

The dark haired woman steps aside as the crowd behind her follows suit, parting themselves to allow a giant yellow dog to trot towards him. As soon as he sees Zoro, his tail wags in excitement then takes a run, knocking down the swordsman to the ground to give him big slobbery kisses across his body.

Zoro

Argh!! Gross!!! Get him off me!

The residents laugh at the sight and start pointing their fingers at Zoro, knowing full well what the big blonde creature is like. Sanji overhears the commotion and joins in on the mockery. He pulls out the photo camera from his pack and snaps photos of the swordsman and the large creature in action.

Raki

Holy!!! No! Bad dog! You can say hi but no licking!

Holy…down!

At that Holy immediately sits down, pinning the swordsman’s lower body under his large furry bum.

Zoro

Raki!!!

Raki

AAH! I made it worse!!!

—

After bidding everyone their goodbyes (and with Zoro having fresh new clothes), the trio proceed on foot westward with Holy following them behind. Wyper's scouts had reported that Nola was last seen napping on one of her usual spots that way. They would have ridden the dog sooner but Law wanted to take his time to soak in everything that Skypiea had to offer on the home stretch.

Sanji

So, doctor? Excited to see Corazon?

Law

More than anything.

35 notes · View notes