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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

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Hi, could I get a swiss roll with a figgy duff and a side of champagne served by Max Verstappen?

Thank you in advance 🫶

bakery menu!!

want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you and everything you wish to suggest! requests are still open, but updates won't be posted from sept 23rd-29th 2024 due to a vacation! but feel free to submit orders for when i return! for this lovely anon i hope you love this fic, i am very proud of how everything turned out! thank you again for ordering and have a great day! <3

swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + figgy duff ("if i buy it, will you stop pouting?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, stuffed animal abuse, couch sex, jealousy, doggy style, daddy kink

max knew that he could have next to anything he wanted. his entire world was his oyster before thirty. his salary would make some gasp, but it simply made him grin. he pushed himself to his limits to get on top, and he wasn't stopping now.

but even the greats had their weaknesses. and for max that came in the form of soft eyes and softer lips with a deep likeness for hello kitty.

"is this one hello kitty? it looks like a rabbit?" max asked as he looked over at your phone screen to see what you were looking at. or rather in what ways were you going to use and abuse his credit card for the week.

in all fairness you could've abused his finances a lot harder and max would've been fine with it. he could retire from racing tomorrow and still spoil you till the sun burnt out. you still tried to find deals and coupons on things you wanted him to buy you. sometimes you still got hot in the face when you saw the total of a shopping cart.

you were raised in such a different world than him and max liked that. but, while he had a weak spot for your softness. you had a weak spot for stuffed animals. especially sanrio.

"no, no. they're not all hello kitty. this one is cinnamoroll, and he's a dog."

max looked at the screen a little closer, "looks like a rabbit to me."

you pointed at the screen, "no, no. look at his ears, those are dog ears." max nodded, still not totally convinced. who would draw a dog like that. but when you saw the price of the large stuffed animal, you pouted. and max noticed you were pouting.

he took the phone from you and when you tried to get your phone back. he placed his free hand on your forehead. he said, "if i buy it, will you stop pouting? i can afford it, treasure."

"but the import fees."

"they'll be paid." he added the stuffed animal to the cart. he didn't even look at the price in all fairness before he handed the phone back to you. you pouted further and max leaned in to kiss you on the lips, "enough of that. what else do you want?" then rubbed the top of your head with his large hand.

honestly, he knew very little about sanrio or hello kitty. he knew one time he kicked one of them off the bed in an attempt to get comfy after a long double header and you whined until he picked it up off the floor and apologized to the stuffed toy. but, anything for you, he supposed.

the plush toy along with some others arrived within a few weeks. max didn't really notice much of it until he caught you on the couch earlier that day with your arms wrapped around the stuffed toy. he hadn't realized how big it was, a little over a meter in size. it was soft with those long rabbit ears. but you were snuggled up with it watching television. you looked cute even with the t-shirt you wore slowly riding up over your stomach.

it made max stop in his tracked and divert from his path to the kitchen. you looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. he said to you, "everything you hoped for?"

you nodded, "yeah, now i have something to cuddle when you're gone." your comment was innocent, but it stirred something in max. he got closer and you kept your gaze on him. you smiled a little bit when he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

"oh? replacing me so soon?" he asked as he reached towards you and pushed your t-shirt a little higher. you hid your face a little further into the stuffed animals, "oh no, no, my love. don't hide from me." it was easy to get your shirt off of you.

he licked his lips while your breasts pressed against the stuffed animal. he knew he'd have you whining soon enough and it curled something in his gut at the sight of you. you were amazing. the perfect baby girl that max could ever have. while he was fine with you buying what you desired, he didn't want to be replaced with a stuffed toy.

because no stuffed toy could compare to your daddy.

"you better not replace me, my love. everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you. so there is no replacing me. i paid for these." he said as he pushed down your shorts and exposed the pretty panties underneath, "and i paid for your little friend." maybe max was a fool for being jealous over a stuffed animal, but your sudden attached to it made something curl in his brain.

you were soon naked and pressed against the stuffed animal. you looked over your shoulder at him and he pressed your face into the cinnamoroll plush, or whatever its name was. you whined, "daddy!"

"shh, shh. i need to make sure this rabbit knows who you belong to. or he's being sent back to wherever he came from."

you arched your back to pretty for him as you tried to argue, "it's a dog!"

he smacked your ass before he pulled away to get his t-shirt off. you behaved and kept your face pressed against the stuffed animal. he got out of his pants and underwear before he pressed his cock up against your ass. he said, "it could be a turtle for all i can. but, i need to make sure that you don't go running off with a stuffed toy while i'm away." he kissed the back of your neck as he rubbed himself up against you.

you whimpered and held onto the toy tighter, "daddy, please." then moaned when he sank his cock into you. it was true, he did pay for everything. you were there to look pretty and be the perfect girl for him.

"so pretty." he said, "i worry about you when i leave, you're so soft and could get into a lot of trouble." he groaned a little bit as he started to find his pace as he fucked you on the couch.

"i can be a good girl." you replied, you held onto the stuffed toy and drooled a little bit against it as max's cock hit up against some of your sweetest spots. your toes curled in your socks as he found his rhythm.

"i know. i know." he said, "but you should be cuddling me. not this toy. so i have to show it who's in charge." you couldn't help but giggle, but they were soon silenced when he pressed himself further against you and took you by the face and kissed you deeply on the lips.

his thrusts were fast, and it forced you further up against the couch. the kisses were hot and made you feel warm all over. your sweet noises even while you kissed made max run hot. he knew that only he could make you feel this good. he knew that he ruined you, and that you'd always yearn for his cock.

you drooled a little more when the kiss broke and your face found comfortable against the fur of the toy. you clung to it tightly for some kind of support but max had full control of the pace. you felt a little hazy in the brain as he continued to fuck you.

"i love you." you said softly.

"and i love you." he replied, "can't help but be a little jealous sometimes. anyone would be lucky to have you, but i have you all to myself. everything you own belongs to me, paid with my credit card. maybe i should make you wear my name at all times so nobody gets the wrong idea." his words were hot and flooded with brain with a heightened pleasure.

max continued to thrust against you. soon his pace became quicker and rougher. he pressed you further against the couch and the toy. he kissed you once more, it was rough against your lips as you came around his cock.

you clung to the stuffed animal as you tensed up. you panted through the kiss as you nails dug into the plush toy, only loosening your grip when you came down from your climax.

face pressed once more into the soft fur as max rocked himself against you, almost bouncing you on his cock. he pressed into you further before he finished inside of you. he shuddered as he finished. eventually he slowed down until a stop then pulled out. he panted heavily and used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

he admired your backside before he put you onto your back. he looked at the stuffed animal, the embroidered eyes looked at him and he smiled. he said to the toy, "she's mine."

you placed your hands on his face and said, "c'mon, max! he isn't going to replace you!"

"he won't when i'm finished with you." <3

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popponn · 10 months ago

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idk if you accept requests but i badly want to read the blue lock boys with the orange peel theory going around on tiktok 🥹

notes: anon, i was in a slump and then you come with this, please know i cant get it out of my mine for 2 whole nights. so, please have this, i hope u will enjoy it & your fave is there. also shoutout to @doobea for helping me with rin & barou esp <3 aso for standing my yappings. warning: none, post canon au in mind, reader's gender unspecified.

character: isagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin, sae, barou + bonus

isagi

sweet boy will do it with a smile. is not the tidiest but you can now eat your orange while sharing with him. has a vibe that he is sort of used to doing this somehow. a total win still. if you do the same for him he will get flustered. also asking this is one of the quickest ways to get mr. egoist switches to mr. sweetheart boyfriend.

“Eh, why are peeling one too? I already… for me…?…I, uh—I see. Thanks… I—I am… give me a second.”

kaiser

you are the one who will peel for him—unless you throw a fuss and give him a silent treatment because this guy's pride is no joke. he can, he just doesn't want to. but to appease you and gain back his rightful spoiling, he will. afterward, at least, he learns his lesson and when you are about to peel one yourself, will take it and peel it beautifully for you like a second nature.

“…the fuck are you staring at? Just take it. You are about to eat it anyway, right? Then what's the big deal?”

bachira

yes, he will no question asked but is it worth it. probably will make a mess out of his energy. you will be laughing along with him somehow though so it is worth it. having the sunshine doing anything in front of you is a guaranteed smile-inducing routine. as for the orange, please do switch to other alternatives, for example: kisses, as suggested by him.

“Isn't this better than orange? Huum, huum! More healthy, sweeter too, right? Another one?”

chigiri

depending on his mood, you will either get a very cute orange peel or a half-peeled orange (at best) you have to finish peeling yourself. on the former, you get a smug bf who will feed you like it's a pocky stick. on the latter, you better be the one feeding him while hugging and cuddling him. multitask somehow. also, give him kisses because he is called a ‘princess’ for a reason.

“Ah, being in your arms being fed like this… yeah, yeah. I know don't worry. I will repay the favor.”

nagi

realistically, you will be the one peeling it for him and forcing him to eat one. because why would he even touch one? he is too lazy for that, nothing personal. but, let's say he really, really loves you: he still won't, he will just give you orange-flavored jelly in replacement. it does come from a place of love though, he genuinely thinks it's less troublesome to eat and, hence: better.

“Eating that is troublesome. It taste the same too. We can also do it while kissing. Mouth to mouth. Better right?”

reo

normally, will get a servant to peel it for you and him. though: can he do it? will he do it if it must be him? no question asked, absolutely will, all while chatting and staring at you with so much love. totally mr. k-drama male lead. you and your premium orange are in good hands.

“Oh, man, you are sometimes really …huh? Nah, I mean, I like doing this. It's just now I feel like I have to do this every time, so… yeah.”

rin

the first time, he will click his tongue and mess up. he will crush the orange. better never speak of it again, just know he loves you wholly despite everything. then a week passes and suddenly you will get a professional competitive orange peeler part-timer. without asking. just eat your orange. unless you are sick of it or it makes you actually sick.

“Did the orange taste good? … good. Nothing. You just look… nevermind. Do you want another one?”

sae

will he or will you. realistically, no? there are two possible reasons: 1) he can't. his whole stat is in soccer. 2) “you can't?” aka is it worth it getting judged by him. in case #2 though, just act cute and aim for his soft spot for you, he will fold and peel it with you pressed to his arm. he will grumble or glare but that's just itoshi-esque tsundere.

“You can't do something like this yourself? This will be the only time I’m doing this… Also who told you to move away?”

barou

our king. will peel the skin and the white fiber for you. tidy peels and if you know your way around his heart—you do just smile or blink and he is gone—he will also feed you. 10/10 execution no notes. probably will do this in kotatsu, dinner tables, and other domestic settings that are not bed while being a tsundere.

“I’m doing this just so you don't make a mess, got it? Also, scoot closer, your leg is kicking me—what do you mean I’m lying?!”

bonus

kunigami will, both before and after wc because you are his world. the difference would be in his expression only and there is that because his love for you would never change. shidou will but genuinely, please just peel it yourself. aiku will, not without teasing you though. gagamaru will either will or teach you how to eat the skin too. zantetsu wants to do it, but it will be really messy so please just don't. hiori will do it like a sweet boy, but if he is in his sadistic mood he will tease you for a bit before finally feeding you.

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strawbeerossi · 10 months ago

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You Think, Genius?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.

Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).

Word Count: 2.7k

Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷

“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.

Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.

“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.

“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”

The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.

“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.

As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.

“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”

Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.

“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.

He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.

“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.

“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.

“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.

“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.

“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.

“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.

“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.

“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.

“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.

“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”

“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”

The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.

Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.

“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”

“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”

“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”

You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”

Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.

“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.

“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”

“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.

“That could’ve taken out my eye!”

“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”

That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.

“Is it a war that you want?”

“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”

That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.

“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”

“Never.”

“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.

“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”

“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.

There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.

There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.

There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.

It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.

Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.

The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.

“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”

Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.

“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.

“Are you gonna pay me for this?”

“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.

“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”

“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.

You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.

After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.

“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.

When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.

There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.

There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.

Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.

They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.

It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.

It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.

As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.

It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.

“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.

“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”

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lilacs-stars · 3 months ago

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aiming for your heart

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: you agree to a tutoring session with your pirate classmate, but things end up taking an...unexpected twist. GENRE: pure fluff, a bit of banter CW: nothing much, just mentions of societal pressures WC: 7.9k (they just keep getting longer...)

A/N: I decided to finally do something cute and fluffy after days of working on dark angsty stuff and this felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. it was so fun to write, so thanks to the anon who requested this for the fun idea! <3 please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd love to know your thoughts!

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, cir—

“Ahh, oww!” you cry out as a very solid metal object collides with the side of your skull. Your hand instinctively goes up to the spot on your head—which you can already feel starting to swell—as you wince in pain.

You’re supposed to throw the ring in the basket, not at my head, idiot, you think to yourself as you grimace.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” you glance around the room, locking eyes with your classmate just a few tables away, whose wand is still poised in their hand and a bewildered expression planted on their face. “I just can’t seem to control…this gosh darn wand…”

You let out a little sigh, trying your best to not be impatient. After all, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as experienced in this field as you are.

You glance back at the student, who’s rereading their textbook pages for what’s probably the tenth time. As you watch them struggle, a pang of guilt hits you for being so mean and irritable. It’s not like they were trying to hit you, and even though it was just a thought passing through in the privacy of your mind, you still feel as though thinking something mean like that is wrong.

You push your chair back and rise from your seat, wand tightly gripped in one hand. Walking over to your classmate’s desk, you give a small smile as you ask them, “Need any help?”

They look up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, yes, please! Enchantment of Magical Objects is literally the hardest class ever!”

You grin again, keeping your demeanor light and friendly, like always. “Okay, so first, you go up, then swish, then circle your wand back around, and finally flick, and then…”

You copy the movements with your own wand as you speak, small magical sparks flickering off it at your gestures. After you complete your little demonstration, you both watch as a hand-sized sleek metal ring, somewhat resembling a circular horseshoe, levitates off the desk and neatly lands in a bucket in the center of the room.

Today’s assignment in your Enchantment class is to use the Aiming Spell to throw the rings into a bucket. Safe to say, it wasn’t really going well for most of the class.

“Wow, that was amazing! You’re so good at this Y/N!” your now starry-eyed classmate exclaims. “And I can barely get my rings off my desk…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” you smile reassuringly. “After all, I’ve had a lot of experience around wands and enchantments.”

“Yeah, I suppose that is right. I guess not everyone can be as talented with magic as the Good Witch’s very own daughter.”

A small laugh escapes your lips, and you bid farewell to your classmate as you make your way back to your seat. They aren’t wrong, after all. Your mother, Glinda, taught you how to use a wand as soon as you could walk. You’ve been watching her use magic for ages, so it’s not a surprise to anyone that you’re top of your class.

You sit back down, getting back to work. Even though you know you’ve already mastered the spell, you still have some class time left, which you decide to use wisely and continue practicing the spell.

Staring at the pile of metal rings in front of you, you take a deep breath and begin the task of making each one levitate off your desk and make a perfect arch towards the basket.

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up—swoosh!

A flying ring shoots straight past your face, barely missing you by only a few inches. You stumble backwards in your chair, quite startled. Still, it isn’t unusual to see objects flying around the classroom, or rather, objects flying where they’re not supposed to.

A moment later, another one whizzes past you again. Then a third, which gets so close to your face that you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Annoyed, your head snaps to your right, trying to figure out who keeps nearly decapitating you.

You glance around, finally locking eyes with what seems to be the culprit. Chair leaning against the wall, tipped back on its hind two legs, sits a figure with deep brown eyes and smokey eyeshadow look to match. A smirk is planted on his face, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He wears a dark red jacket on top of a black dress shirt, the collar disheveled and his tie loose around his neck. Contrary to his tousled outfit, his medium-length brown hair is neatly slicked back. One of his hands leisurely holds a wand while the other rests behind his head, and combined with the way he has a leg crossed over the other, one would think he’s enjoying a nice day at the beach instead of sitting in class at one of the most prestigious academies in the land.

You fix him with a look, your gaze subconsciously morphing into a glare as he jerks the wand up, causing one of the metal rings in front of him to levitate a few inches off his desk. With a flick of the wrist, he sends it flying across the room once again. Having learned your lesson, this time you duck down, eyes following the disk as it soars across the room. You watch as it shoots straight towards its target, who expertly crouches as the metal ring hits the wall behind him with a thud, falling to the ground and joining the previous disks.

The target of these attacks is a boy you recognize to be a good friend of the ring-throwing troublemaker, with light brown hair brushed away from his forehead and dressed in a dark green shirt with a black choker around his neck. Morgie le Fay shoots a glare across the room to his perpetrator, making a face that could only mean “You’ll pay for this later.”

Another disk comes shooting at his head, and he ducks down yet again. This time, the metal hits the wall so hard, you worry it left a dent. Unable to take their child-like behavior any longer, you get up from your seat for the second time and stomp your way over to the disk-thrower.

“Hook!” you say as you reach his table. The man in question tilts his head towards you, looking up with an amused grin.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, lassie?” he replies, his accent crisp and unmistakable.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing it would be terribly rude, even if he was getting on your nerves like no other. You settle for fixing him with another look. “Could you please stop hurling those disks around? It’s not the assignment, and you practically hit me!”

“My apologies, love,” Hook replies, still peering up at you, unbothered. You honestly doubt he means it, so you frown and try again. “I’m being serious, Hook.”

“As am I,” he replies, making you want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Violence is never the answer. You find it funny how you can almost hear your mother’s voice as you repeat those words in your head, the ones she always tells you.

“So you’ll stop?” you ask, raising a brow and putting your hands on your hips to show him you’re not messing around.

“Ah, well, you see,” Hook starts, and it takes every ounce of benevolence in you to not internally combust at whatever excuse he’s planning to come up with. “I’m having a tad bit of trouble with this spell, love. No matter what I do, I simply can’t seem to lock on to the right target.”

At this, you raise your eyebrows again, disbelief laced through your every cell. “Why don’t you give it a go,” you say, jerking your chin towards the basket in the middle of the room. “You never know until you don’t try.”

Hook leans forward in his chair, righting it again so it stands on all four legs. He raises his wand, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s actually concentrating on the task at hand. One of the metal disks rises into the air, levitating a meter above the floor.

Hook flicks his wand forward and the disk sails away, missing the basket in an almost laughable attempt at execution. Instead of the proper target, it lands on the edge of a file cabinet in the far corner of the room. You pray for the poor soul that will inevitably open one of its drawers, only to be smacked in the head by a piece of solid steel.

Eyebrows raised, Hook unabashedly turns back around to face you with that grin of his. “So how was that, love? Satisfied?”

“Not quite,” you huff, shaking your head at him. “Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone make such a…uh, interesting attempt at this assignment.” Deep down, a little part of you really wants to say much meaner things, but you bite back your words, knowing that showing contempt never did anyone any good.

“Interesting, eh?” Hook’s smirk grows, and you can see him already scheming inside that villainous little mind of his. “Say, Y/N”—he uncrosses his legs, leaning in your direction—“you’re the top student of this class, are you not?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but refrain from saying anything you know you’ll later regret. “Yes, and?”

“Well, as you can clearly see here, I require a bit of assistance with this assignment. After all, not everyone grew up waving wands like you,” he quips, flourishing the wand in his hand as if it were an ordinary stick. Abruptly, he stills his movements and drops the wand on his desk, before turning to face you directly, locking eyes. “Would you be so kind as to teach me a few things?”

You quirk your brows, albeit attempting to keep a straight face. “Are you asking me to…tutor you?”

Hook grins yet again. “This evening, 7 o’clock, the common area in the East Wing.” He puts his hand on his knees as he gets up, now leering a few inches above you. Still holding your gaze—although he has to tilt his head down to do so—he asks, “I’ll see you then?”

You blink twice, mind replaying the events that led to you getting yourself stuck in this situation. On the one hand, you definitely don't want to have a one-on-one study session with a villain—and an annoyingly smug one at that. Honestly, the few interactions you are forced to have with him in class are far enough for you.

But on the other hand, he is asking for help to improve his grades…after all, it’s not every day someone the likes of him shows interest in learning. Plus, you know that it’s not right to turn away a person in need of your help, no matter how insufferable they are. Especially if they’re always flashing you a smile filled with shining white teeth and full, plump pink lips.

A sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you resign yourself to your fate. “Alright, I guess. But come prepared to learn. That means you need your wand, your textbooks, notebo—”

He cuts you off with a passive sweep of his hook, much to your annoyance. Leaning in just a little closer to you, enough to make your palms slightly sweaty, his face tilts down even nearer to yours. “It’s a date, then,” Hook says, his voice soft but still with that teasing tone it always seems to carry.

“It’s not a date!” you call out as the bell rings, but he’s already making his way out of the classroom, sauntering off to do who-knows-what.

Heavens, what have I gotten myself into, you think, placing a hand on your forehead as you breathe out a long, heavy sigh.

The evening rolls around far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it you’re making your way out of your doom room and up a set of stairs.

You keep on thinking about how you had ample time to back out of this arrangement; plus, you would be lying if you said you didn't consider it a number of times. But each time, you remind yourself that you are doing a good deed for someone obviously in need of a good influence. That you have to be selfless and put aside your personal feelings to serve a good cause, as all heroes do. That your opinions don't really matter—after all, the best heroes are the ones who make the deepest sacrifices, right?

So that’s how you find yourself dragging heavy feet across a corridor, a tiny voice in your head begging you to turn around, as you finally reach the common area set as your meetup spot. You glance at your wristwatch, which reads 6:55. You had decided to leave a bit early so you could arrive with a few minutes to spare. As your mother always reminds you, “It’s better to be an hour early than a minute late.”

Pulling out a chair at a nearby two-person table, you sit down, plopping your bookbag next to you. You had stuffed it full of your personal notes, your wand, and several textbooks you thought could help Hook.

Tapping a pencil on the wooden desk, you sigh, glancing at your clock again. 6:57. Thinking back on your previous decision, you wonder why you left so early. After all, you have Hook down in your mind as the type to be extremely unpunctual. Leaning back in your chair out of sheer boredom, you start to clearly picture Hook showing up a good hour late. Heck, you’d be surprised if he even shows up at all.

The clock hits 6:59, and you begin to debate how long you’re willing to stay here before giving up and returning to your dorm. Would ten minutes be enough? Fifteen? Thirty? The more you think about it, the more you can imagine this being some sort of elaborate prank to trick you. After all, why would a delinquent villain like Hook ever be interested in planning a tutoring session?

You sigh once again, angry at yourself for being so naive as to fall for his little trick. Drumming your fingers on the table as you put your head down, you mentally punch yourself for your gullibility.

Which is why you nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of a loud thud sound from in front of you. You jerk back into your chair, arms flailing as it tips, causing you to nearly topple backwards. With your reflexes kicking in, your hand latches onto the edge of the table—thankfully—and you manage to pull yourself back to a more stable position.

Hand clutching your pounding heart, you roll your head back to be greeted with that stupid little smirk that haunts your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. After all, we were planning to meet up, were we not?” Hook says, tone extremely smug and a tiny bit pitiful at your frightened state.

You raise your arm and flick your wrist, reading the time displayed on your clock. 7:00. He…he showed up exactly on time, you think, praying that your shock isn’t displayed on your face.

As if he can read your mind—and in all honesty, maybe he can—Hook says, “You didn’t doubt me, now, did you, darling? How could I skimp out on our little date?”

“It’s not a date,” you tell him once again, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice this time.

“Whatever you say.” Hook gives a little grin as he raises his eyebrows for a second. Before you can continue to argue, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits down. You eye a small black leather satchel that dangles from his hook as he drops it down on the floor. Huh, he even came prepared.

He leans in, arms resting on the table, as he fixes you with a sly grin. “So, Miss Teacher, what are you going to teach me today?”

You hate to pass on the opportunity to make a snarky remark, but you know that rubbing Hook the wrong way is not going to make these next few hours any less sufferable. Instead, you simply go for a “How about you start by getting out your materials?”

“As you wish, m’lady.” An irritated sigh escapes your lips, and you realize you’ve been sighing a lot more than usual ever since you got in this…predicament. You watch, somewhat impatiently, as Hook reaches down and draws a single notebook and his practice wand out of the leather satchel. Glancing at his materials, then back at yours, you realize that you came a lot more prepared than he did, even though you’re not the one trying to learn here. Well, I guess him putting in some effort still better than nothing.

You pull out one of the thick textbooks from your bag, the used animal skin cover peeling at the edges and the pages yellowed from the wear of time.

“First, we’re going to get started with the theory of enchantments and spells.” You flip through the pages until you land on the first of many detailing the basics of spellcasting. “Even though we’re going to be focusing on the Aiming Spell, the underlying principles are pretty much the same for all spells you use. Now, you see here, highlighted in the chart are the five main…”

You chance a glance over at Hook, voice trailing off when you realize he isn’t listening. In fact, he's not even looking at the textbook placed in the middle of the desk. Instead, his gaze is fixed on…

…you?

“Hey! Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo!” you exclaim, pulling back from the table. Hook remains unflinching, his chin in his good hand as he stares up at you with a sparkle in his eye.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, love. You’re just so…so entrancing.”

You blink hard, recoiling at his words. He’s not flirting with you…is he? No, there’s no way. Don’t be overly arrogant, you convince yourself. This is just his personality, how he usually acts. The same way he calls everyone “love” and “darling.” There’s absolutely nothing more to it than him saying anything he can think of to fluster you and throw you off track.

…Right?

You ignore the stupid little flutter your heart does at not just being called pretty, or beautiful, or any of the normal compliments. No, you aren’t normal, you’re entrancing…

Snap out of it! you internally scold yourself. This is just another one of his little antics. You’re just letting him win by getting in your head.

“Look, I didn’t come here and set aside this chunk of my valuable time to tutor you, only for you to not listen. If you came here to mess around—” you rant, but you’re cut off before you can get everything off your chest.

“I apologize, lassie. I promise, I’ll focus from here on out,” Hook vows. You eye him with a glare, feeling very distrustful, but you’re only met with his rather sincere gaze.

You let out another breath, once again regretting agreeing to this. “Fine. Get out your notebook. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”

Hook nods and reaches into his satchel, which is still lying on the floor. “If I’m being completely honest—which I assume you must hold in high regard, being a hero and whatnot—I really didn’t expect you to be so…irritable.”

You shoot Hook another glare, before realizing that you’re just proving his point. You give a brief roll of your eyes as you attempt a smile. “I’m not usually like this,” you say, fighting to keep a decently pleasant expression on your face. “You just really find a way to, how should I put this, you really—”

“Push your buttons?” Hook finishes for you, raising his eyebrows.

“I was going to say you really find a way to get on my nerves, but that too,” you respond, with obviously forced cheerfulness. “Whatever, we need to get back to studying. For real this time.”

Hook replies with an “Of course, m’lady,” before you begin your lecture again on the foundation of enchantments. This time, he makes sure to periodically glance down at the textbook pages and occasionally nod or ask a question, all to ensure that you don’t catch him staring at you again. Unbeknownst to you, adoration shines bright in his eyes as he studies your features, committing them to memory every time you’re not looking his way.

You spend some time going over theory with Hook, until you can feel him growing restless, causing you to start wondering if people like him have a capacity for how much information they can absorb at one time. Deciding that theory is no good if it’s not put to practice, you slam the textbook shut once you reach the end of a page, standing up.

Hook looks up at you, a slightly startled expression on his face. “Come on,” you say. “Now we’re going to see how much you paid attention by putting your lesson to good use.”

You hope to see a look of fear flash across his face, but his demeanor stays completely even. Feeling a bit let down, you remind yourself that he still has to actually cast the spell. Watch him mess it up, you think. Let’s see how smug he is then, huh?

Reaching down into your bookbag, you pull out a small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. You open it to reveal a handful of metal disks, similar to the ones you had used earlier in class. You empty them out on the table before walking over to the middle of the room and placing the cloth down on the floor, a good number of meters away from your table. “This is your target area,” you explain. “Stand by the table and get those rings to land within the borders of the cloth.”

Let’s see how well you fare now, pretty boy.

“Aye, that’s not fair,” Hook says, scrunching his brow as he gestures towards your setup with his hook. “That cloth’s much smaller than the basket we used in class. And the distance is far greater.”

“Well, if you learn how to get the spell right with tougher constraints than the requirement, you’ll be sure to do great for the real thing.” You flash him a wink as you watch his jaw part slightly, an incredulous expression painted on his face. “That’s how I always ace my exams.”

Hook draws in a breath, putting his ever-famous smirk back on his face, although you can feel his unease this time. He picks up his wand, turning around to point it at disks on the table.

Up. He rolls his hand upwards, and one of the disks starts to levitate a foot in the air.

Swish. Hook jerks his wrist to the side, causing the disk to start gently vibrating with potential energy.

Circle. He rotates his hand counterclockwise, drawing a circle with the tip of the wand.

Flick. You watch with bated breath as Hook flicks the wand towards the cloth in the middle of the room.

Both of you follow the disc’s arc through the air with tense anticipation, as it soars, soars…

…and ends up missing the cloth by a good three feet.

Hook gives a small, halfhearted laugh, trying to keep up the suave facade. Yet you notice the way his shoulders slump forward, the way his body stiffens in an embarrassing shock.

Part of you feels a wickedly twisted satisfaction at his failure—but as soon as you recognize it for what it is, you shove it away, repulsed at the thought of you even coming close experiencing such an emotion. Plus, the majority of you feels rather disappointed at the undesirable outcome. Whether it’s Hook’s chagrin rubbing off on you, or the voice in your head whispering that you, as his teacher, failed at your job, you can’t help but feel a bit let down at his messing up.

“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s try again,” you say softly, your usual eager-to-help manner coming back at the sight of someone needing comforting.

And so, Hook tries again. And again. And again.

Finally, after the seventh or eighth try, he puts the wand back down on the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, love. No matter how hard I try, it’s simply not working.” You sigh, looking at the floor before you, which was now littered with disks. “Hey, at least you got closer each time! That’s still progress.” You attempt to raise his spirits a bit, but he just fixes you with a look that tells you he’s not one to fall for your false positivity.

“Uhm…” You hesitate, not quite sure what to do next or how to fix this. “How about you see how I do it, and try to copy that?”

Hook gives a small nod and you fish out your wand, pulling up your sleeves and taking a deep breath to prepare. Focusing on one of the disks on the table, you start the particular movements. Up. Swish. Circle. Flick!

Both of you watch in somewhat astonishment as the ring curves perfectly through the air, flying with grace, as it lands directly in the center of the cloth.

Hook looks at you with raised eyebrows. Although that little part of you wants to rub it in his face, the fact that a hero, out of all people, bested him, you decide that torturing him with your teasing is only going to make him less likely to get the spell right.

“You see that? Now, try to copy it yourself,” you instruct.

And so, Hook makes a few more attempts, landing closer to the cloth each time, now only a couple inches away—yet never actually making contact with it.

You study his movements carefully as he casts the spell, trying to figure out what he’s doing wrong. After a few more of his failed attempts, you decide to try a different approach.

“Okay, watch me do it again, but this time come hold my wand from behind so you can get a feel for how I cast it,” you say, glancing up at Hook. “After all, it’s all in the wrist.” You recite a line your mother always says, one that often replays in your mind as you cast a spell. In your opinion, her guidance is the main reason that you’re so good at spells.

You’re still sitting down in your chair, pushing it in a little to provide room for him to come up behind you and reach your wand.

You were expecting Hook to get rather close; after all, there aren’t many ways for two people to hold the same wand in the position you were in without a tight proximity. What you weren’t expecting was the way he comes up from behind you leisurely, deliberately. The way his chest presses into your back as he leans in, arm brushing against yours as he extends it towards the wand. The way you can feel his exhales on your skin, breathing down your neck—literally—causes goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. The way his natural aroma engulfs you completely, overwhelming your senses all at once. How his large hand feels on yours as he places it on top, curling his fingers around the wand—and yours, as well. The way you can feel the smirk dancing on his face, looking down at you with what you expect to be half-lidded eyes.

And the way your heart races, good heavens. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you just ran a marathon. Your body simultaneously heats up and freezes at his touches, no matter how small, your mind becoming overly aware of every point of contact you have with him. You fight against the overstimulation flooding your senses, resisting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your legs, while hoping that the wand doesn’t slip out of your hand as perform the incantation.

Truth be told, although you definitely won’t admit this to anyone: you really haven’t had much experience with romance, or anything of the sorts. All your life, you’ve focused on doing good deeds and keeping up with your studies, aiming to be the best of the best in the hero world. Which is probably why no boy has ever taken interest in you; instead of going to dances or out on dates, you've always spent your Friday nights locked away in your room, studying hard to make sure you ace your exams. Plus, with your goody-two-shoes streak, you aren't exactly the most sought-out person in your class.

Which is why with the way Hook flirts with you, and now, the way you can feel his inhales and exhales against your skin—subconsciously trying to match the rhythm of his breathing—your brain is short-circuiting. The lack of romantic attention you’ve received your whole life is behind why you don't know how to react to Hook's antics, while still internally freaking out at his movements and words.

You inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your quivering hand and hope that Hook doesn’t notice your reaction. But after the amused little hum he gives, your embarrassment grows by the second. Trying your best to focus on the task at hand, you say, “Okay, here goes.”

Up. You feel Hook’s grip tighten around your hand, just a little bit but still enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Swish. The disk vibrates with extreme intensity, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll break apart, despite the metal structure.

Circle. As you circle your wrist around, you feel Hook’s arm rub against yours even more, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, the things this man is doing to you.

Flick. You flick the wand towards the cloth yet again, jerking your head sideways to follow it as it flies across the room. Agonizing in how it ignites every nerve in your body, you feel Hook’s head brush against the top of yours as he follows your movements, watching the disk soar.

It seems, for a minute, as if it’s going to land right on top of the previous one. But to both your shocks, it falls just outside the borders of the cloth, barely touching the edge.

Your face absolutely burns in embarrassment, palms dripping with sweat now. Hook tilts his head towards yours—which you feel all too well—as he says, far closer to your ear than you would’ve liked, “Well, it seems like even the master makes mistakes, love.”

Fuming, you finally give into the urge and drop the wand to wipe your hands on your clothes. Screw him, you mentally curse. It’s all his fault. I’ve never messed up this spell before.

And as much as you want to blame him, you know that it’ll do you absolutely no good to tell him the fact that he was so close to you made your brain short-circuit to such an extent that you messed up a spell you could do since you were five.

You shake your head, refusing to accept your failure. “No, I…I don’t know what happened. It must have been a faulty disk. Just…I’m going to try again.”

Hook raises his eyebrows at you—or at least, you’re pretty sure he does, as you can’t see him from behind. You grab your wand again, and without even telling him to do so, Hook leans in and places his hand back over yours, your fingers trapped between his and the wand.

Internally, you find yourself growing impossibly more annoyed at him. Honestly, did he really have to go back to that position, the one that made you mess up the spell in the first place? You take a deep, steadying breath, forcing away all thoughts of Hook and how his dark brown eyes, beautiful and rich like the bark of the trees back in Oz, are boring into your skull right now. You simply can’t afford to get distracted again. Messing up the spell once is one thing—sure, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But twice? It would be absolutely inexcusable.

Twice would mean that you are not as adept as you thought you were, not talented enough in the one thing that you've been sure of for your whole life.

Remember the words.

Up, swish, circle, flick!

Fueled by your self-directed rage, you ensure that every movement you make is precise, sharp, and without a single tremor going through your hand. This time, the disk slices through the air with a clean, aerodynamic curve, and lands…

…right on top of your first one.

You beam, regaining your former confidence in your spellcasting abilities.

“The master may sometimes make mistakes, but they’re still the master,” you gloat. “Now come on, you need to practice till you get as good as that.”

You and Hook spend quite some time on practicing the spell, with you giving him pointers and him—surprisingly—improving. It seems as though your hands-on demonstration really helped him, as his skills greatly improved.

Soon, in every set of ten rings he practiced on, he was consistently getting six or seven of them within the boundaries of the cloth, with one or two more landing on the edge, half-in.

After one round where he managed to get nine of the disks touching the cloth—his personal best so far—you decide he needs something even more challenging.

“Woah, that was a really good round,” you praise. Hook turns to face you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that his normal smirk seems a little less snarky and a little more…genuine.

“Still not as good as you, though, love,” Hook replies. You can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his nonchalant front, especially when it comes to academics, but the pride in his eyes and the earnest grip on his wand tell a different story. Honestly, you like him better this way. Less of him pretending to be a bad boy villain, and more of his real personality.

And in this moment, as you subtly study his features and think about his change in behavior over the past few hours, a thought that’s never even come close to crossing your mind suddenly pops up. What if villains, just like heroes, feel pressured to uphold a certain facade? The same way that you’ve always felt like you just have to be good, no matter the cost, no matter how hard it is for you, maybe villains feel the same way. Maybe they believe they always have to be bad, troublesome, and cruel. Even if that’s not who they truly are.

And through the lens of your new insight, you start seeing Hook in a different light. Just like how you feel as if being good and helpful and cheery all the time is a burden, how sometimes you wish you could just let loose and be selfish, maybe villains feel like being evil is a burden. Maybe Hook feels compelled to act smug and suave, even though that isn’t who he truly feels like being all the time.

You begin to feel a deep sense of guilt for judging him based on his demeanor and criticizing his performance in class. Reflecting back, you realize that you had been unnecessarily harsh on him for something that is likely beyond his control. Gosh, I'm such an idiot, you think, shame burning your cheeks.

Shaking off your remorse, you put on another bright smile and try to respond as cheerfully as possible. “Hey, it’s still a huge improvement from sending the rings flying on top of a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Or at innocent bystanders’ heads!” This time, you don’t encourage him because you feel pressured to do so, or because that’s who you know you’re supposed to be. You do it because deep down, in your heart, it’s what you feel like saying.

“Hmm, true,” Hook replies, angling his head to the side as he considers your point, the smallest of smiles still dancing on his lips.

“Now, for your final test.” At your statement, Hook raises a brow. “You need something different, something truly challenging. Something to prove your mastery of the Aiming Spell…”

You rack your brain for ideas, but nothing comes to mind. After a moment in silence, Hook speaks up. “I may have an idea.”

Glancing over at him, rather surprised—you were the teacher, after all—you gesture for him to go on.

“Go stand over there by that wall,” he instructs, motioning with his hook to the wall opposite you two. “And put your hands up.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, fixing him with a look of wariness and doubt. You don’t move for a second, still too distrusting of him as you try to imagine what standing in that position has to do with casting a spell. Noticing your hesitation, Hook nods towards the wall again. “Well, go on, love.”

Still suspicious of him, you cave in and walk over to the far side of the room. Pressing your back against the wall as you raise your hands up, the position makes you feel as if you've just been caught red-handed in the midst of a crime. Hook still stands by the table, waiting patiently. You try to think back to the textbook pages you went over with him, wondering if you had accidentally taught him some sort of attack charm that he was planning to use on you.

Feeling your anxiety build, you wriggle your left fingers, wrapping your thumb and middle finger around the base of your pointer. You always wear a special, very pretty ring on that hand, a gift your mother gave to you a few years ago. Fiddling with it while twisting it around and around helps to soothe you, especially when you feel nervous.

But this time, when you go to repeat the same movement you always do, you feel the absence of the familiar metal surface and engravings etched into it. Glancing up at your hand, you confirm that your ring is indeed missing. The only trace of its former presence is the two parallel, circular indents in your skin from wearing it for so long.

Your panic skyrockets now at the loss of one of your favorite possessions, practically forgetting about Hook and the unease that accompanied his bizarre request. That ring had come with a special message; the night you got it, your mother had told you, “Remember when you were younger, and I told you that people are either good or bad? Well, that’s not quite true. No one is really black or white. We’re all just shades of gray. Some people are lighter gray, and some people are darker gray. And although we might be different shades, we all fall under the same color. Remember that, Y/N.”

And you have remembered it. Every time you go to toy with your ring, those words echo in your mind. Your mom had embedded the ring with a marble featuring a swirl of many different shades of gray, a reminder of the message that came along with it. You were too young to truly understand her words back then, but now, especially in these recent moments, you think you’re starting to fully grasp what she meant.

Snapping back to the present, you realize the serious problem you have at hand. “My ring!” you cry. “I could have sworn I had it when I came here…”

“Looking for this?” Hook’s smirk is back in full force. His left arm is raised, and on the crest of his polished metal hook, your precious ring glimmers under the golden lights projected from the ceiling.

“You…! When did you even…” your voice trails off as your mind catches up to your mouth. It must have been when he leaned in, while you were demonstrating the spell. That was the only time he had gotten close enough to you, although you don’t know how in the world he nicked it off your finger without you having the slightest hint.

Then you remember, quite painfully, how flustered you had been in that moment. If you were so distracted that you couldn't even cast a simple spell right, then you certainly wouldn’t have had enough brainpower to notice a skilled thief steal from you.

“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim, huffing angrily, a frown etched deep into your face.

“I will, darling,” Hook replies smugly. “Now, raise your hands up again. And don’t wiggle your fingers around this time.”

“Give me my ring back first!” you demand, your previous annoyance towards him coming right back.

“Let me do this first, and then you’ll get your ring. Hands up.” At your glare, Hook tilts his head to the side and gives you a look. “Don’t you trust me?”

Well, of course not, is the first thought that pops into your mind. You’re a liar and a thief, and above all, a villain.

But then you remember your mother’s words, your earlier revelation and how, just for a moment, you glimpsed Hook through a different light. So, although you definitely won't go as far as saying that you trust him, you still empathize with him enough to give in to his request.

Wordlessly, you raise your hands back up to your sides, palms facing in front of you, while fighting the urge to fidget again. You debate whether or not it’d be best to close your eyes for this, but you ultimately decide that if Hook does try to pull any more of his little tricks, all your senses should be sharp and aware.

And so you stand, frozen, as Hook raises the wand. For a second, you think he’s going to cast the spell on you. But instead, he uses his good hand to remove the ring from where it’s stuck in his hook, instead placing it dangling from the tip. He points his wand at the ring, repeating the maneuvers you two practiced so many times.

Up. The ring lifts off his hook and levitates just in front of him.

Swish. It starts vibrating like the disks, but due to its small size, your cherished ring begins to rotate on its axis.

Circle. With Hook’s circular movement of the wand, the ring’s spinning accelerates, locking on to its target—whatever that is.

Flick. For one final time, Hook flicks his wrist, this time towards you.

You watch, your heart pounding as fast as ever, as the ring—your ring—curves through the sky as it falls, getting closer and closer to you. You slam your eyes shut for just a beat, unable to bear the anticipation, before remembering your earlier rationale again.

Eyes flying open instantly, you regain your vision just as the ring falls, falls, falls, landing…

…directly on your finger.

But not the finger that you previously wore it on. Your eyes widen again in disbelief as it slips perfectly around your ring finger.

“Uh…I…uhm…” you stammer, confused and shocked and overwhelmed with far too many things at once to form a coherent sentence. How in the world did he cast such a precise Aiming Spell, in a situation where it wouldn’t have succeeded had he been even a centimeter off? And if he was so precise with his location pinpointing, then why in the world did he put it on your left ring finger??

“Come on, spit it out, love,” Hook replies teasingly. “You can say it, don’t be afraid.”

Your mind is working far too hard for you to shoot him a glare, but you mentally do it anyway. “That was…impressive,” you finally admit, although you wish you didn’t when Hook’s smug grin grows twice as wide. Ugh, his ego is already big enough. I did not need to inflate it like that.

“Could you always cast the spell that well?” you ask, still stunned at his precision. You honestly couldn’t see how anyone who had been sending disks flying all across the room a mere few hours ago was now casting spells with the accuracy of someone who had been doing this for years.

“Why, of course not. You saw how I was earlier.” Hook’s grin grows even wider as he adds, “It’s all because I had a wonderful teacher.”

You still frown at him skeptically, walking back towards the table where he stands. “I highly doubt it’s because of that. I mean, I don’t know if even I could pull something like that off with such little practice.”

At this, Hook gives a little laugh. “What do they say, the student exceeds the teacher?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, they call it ‘beginner’s luck.’ You should be happy you got it right this time, because you might not get so lucky on your exams.”

Hook grins again, and as much as you detest the pleasure he gets from teasing you—and though you’d never admit it—a small, dark gray part of you enjoys the playful banter between you two.

“That’s why I have you, darling. If I ever need more help, I’ll know who to run to.” He leans in close to you, so close, until his mouth is right next to your ear. You start having flashbacks to your previous experiences with Hook being in a close proximity, and the combined feelings from both your memories and his current actions causes your body to heat up in a way you didn’t even know was possible.

He tilts his head down ever so slightly towards you, his lips feathering across your ear. “And you won’t be able to get out of helping me, my little goody-goody.”

Your mind is absolutely spinning at his words, his touch, his presence, his everything. You desperately struggle to formulate some sort of response, but just as you open your mouth, ready to question his choice of ring placement, a deep, low horn sounds, reverberating off the walls.

Curfew.

Hook breaks away from you as you glance down at your wristwatch. The clock shows exactly 10:00. Gods, how did the time pass by so quickly?

You glance back up at Hook, deciding to ignore the way he so alluringly whispered in your ear just seconds ago. “Well, uh, we have to get going, then,” you awkwardly say, scratching at your neck.

Hook stands there for a moment, staring at you whilst completely motionless, making you wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s planning to do. Just as you’re about to bid him a goodnight and turn away, he reaches his good hand out, grabbing your left one. He holds it delicately in his hand, his palm cupped upwards with your fingers resting gently on top.

Slowly, and while keeping his head up just enough to maintain eye contact with you the entire way down, he bends into a bow in front of you. Only does he avert his gaze when he finally reaches your hand, looking down at your ring, which still sits on your ring finger, as he places a kiss on the bright stone.

He peers back up at you, deep brown eyes wide and expressive.

“Until we meet again, m’lady.”

on to part 2! ->

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: the demons I had to fight to not name this "if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it" haha. anyways thanks for reading!

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

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theyluvkarolina · 5 months ago

Text

౨ৎ LACY ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Max’s new girlfriend reminds you of everything you aren’t. You didn’t just want him anymore, you wanted to be HER.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Max Verstappen x Ex!Fem!Reader (not very much tbh), Platonic!Kelly Piquet x Platonic!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ Kelly Piquet mentions 😰😰 (IM JOKING DON’T COME AFTER ME), obsession, changing oneself to fit another’s gaze, mentions of straightening and changing hair color.

A/N ౨ৎ Hello there 🛸 -Anon!! I’m so happy to see that you’ve been reading my fics for so long, I truly appriciate you and want to thank you for how you’ve been so supportive these past months as well 🩷 Although… I’m not so sure happy endings are in my vocabulary 🤭 (JK I’LL MAKE IT A HAPPY ENDING IN MY OWN WAY 🫶) Again, love you sm 🛸 -Anon, I hope you enjoy this 🩷 (requested!)

I’m also VERY sorry this is so short!! I was out of brain juice while writing this but still wanted to do it at the same time for you! :(

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1 ✔︎

liked by redbullracing, kellypiquet, charles_leclerc and others

maxverstappen1 celebrating with my favorite people ❤️

tagged ; kellypiquet

2,364 comments

kellypiquet ✔︎ ❤️❤️

→ username9 you’ll never be y/n → username10 @ username9 yeah, because she’s kelly and they BOTH love max in their own way.

username1 missing y/n-stappen.

username2 they are so cute but i will never get over max and y/n </3

username3 MAX VERSTAPPEN DOMINANCE 🗣️ 🔥 🗣️ 🔥

→ username11 DU DU DU DU 🗣️🦁 🔥 🇳🇱

username4 can’t believe that y/n isn’t the one to celebrate with max for getting another word championship :(

→ username5 what is with all of you complaining about y/n not being there?! max moved on, you guys should too. → username6 @ username5 damn sorry that we have opinions that we are voicing. → username7 @ username5 soooo we aren’t aloud to miss someone that was a part of max’s life for so long and that we grew to love? → username8 @ username5 parasocial relationship fr tbh 💀

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

kellypiquet ✔︎

liked by y/n_l/n, meshki, lailahasanovic and others

kellypiquet 🌊 ☀️

1,876 comments

username9 HERE BEFORE MAX

→ username10 bro is faster than max emilian verstappen

username11 the y/n like???

→ username12 like what is she doing here 😭 → username13 can another girl not like a photoshoot in her life?? 💀

username14 so pretty!! 🤩

username15 she’s such a upgrade from y/n honestly

→ username16 and why is that??? → username17 @ username16 because she fits a driver’s type aka a model 💀?? → username18 @ username17 sorry i didn’t know you speak for all drivers and their types

y/n_l/n

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, oliviarodrigo, sydneyserena and others

y/n_l/n 🐚 🌞

2,108 coments

lilymunihe ✔︎ take the swimsuit off when??

→ y/n_l/n 🫣🫣 → username32 take the swimsuit off so she can stop copying kelly?? now. → username33 @ username32 you kelly fans are so obsessed with y/n like make a fanpage for at at this point

username19 hold up this looks sorta familiar

username20 it’s giving kelly rip off

→ username21 kelly rip off?? she’s the og. → username34 @ username21 og fake model? yeah → username35 @ username34 honey you do a face reveal at this point because that black screen pfp ain’t doing you justice. → username36 @ username35 LMAO EAT HER UP

username22 anyone noticed how the swimsuit looks like kelly’s??

→ username23 white swimsuit = copying kelly, got it.

username24 trying hard to look like kelly piquet

→ username25 super duper! → username37 you all accuse this woman of something like 20,000 other people never posted a similar photo

username26 some people are seriously stretching with the y/n copying kelly. so her and kelly both posted photos of them at the pool, what about it???

→ username27 LITERALLY. → username28 at this point they must just accuse every wag of copying kelly with their photos → username29 @ username28 honestly 😭😭

fransicac.gomes ✔︎ pretttyyyy 😍

→ username30 pretty good at copying? yes. → username31 @ username30 OML SHUT UP.

[kellypiquet has posted a story 18 minutes!] [y/n_l/n has posted a story!]

210 people have replied to your story!

username38 girlie…

username39 now this isn’t very subtle anymore is it

username40 y/n??

lilymunihe ✔︎ girl. open our chats rn or i’m taking away your phone privileges

TWITTER

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n has posted a story 5 minutes ago!

[1: 🤎🧸🍂] [2: new hair!! ☕🕰🎞]

104 people have replied to your stories!

username41 y/n…

username42 not even hiding it at this point.

username43 copycat

username44 trying to win back max and not in a good way.

iamrebeccad ✔︎ y/n lovely, we need to talk. :(

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

y/n_l/n i’ve been in a rough patch these past couple months. and it took a wake up call to realize that you don’t need to change yourself to be loved.

2,107 comments

kellypiquet ✔︎ i’m so happy about the journey for you! we should go get coffee sometime to chat! 🥰

→ y/n_l/n i would love that 🥹🩷 → username45 GIRL SUPPORTING GIRLS!! 😭 → username46 no war between them. no kelly > y/n or y/n > kelly. → username47 it’s ust Y/n AND Kelly 🥹!

username48 so happy for y/n to be finally moving on and focusing on herself now. she deserves all the love.

maxvertsappen1 ✔︎ can’t wait for my favorite girls to get along 😁

→ username49 “MY FAVORITE GIRLS” → username50 IM CRYING. → username51 max and y/n might not be together, but they support each other like they never split and i love that.

alexandrasaintmleux that’s our girl that we love 🩷

→ y/n_l/n aleeeeexxx 😭😭 i’m the one that loves you!! → charles_leclerc ✔︎ suspicious.

franciscac.gomes ✔︎ we love you y/n 🫶

→ y/n_l/n i want to kiss you omg → pierregasly ✔︎ that’s my gf?? → y/n_l/n and that’s my bestie?? → francisca.cgomes ✔︎ that’s it you two, fight over me to the death 😩

iamrebeccad ✔︎ so proud of you!! ❤️

→ y/n_l/n beccccaaaa 😭

kellypiquet ✔︎

liked by y/n_l/n, maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

kellypiquet ✔︎ friendship start in the most miraculous ways sometimes. had such a fun time with @ y/n_l/n! P can’t wait to see her new friend again!

tagged ; y/n_l/n

1 comment

y/n_l/n ❤️

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hoshinasblade · 5 months ago

Note

May I request a short drabble (maybe?) on how hoshina would react if he were given flowers :3

this is so cute, thanks anon!

hey guys, im not sure if my blog is back to being ok now because support hasn't replied to me. hopefully you guys see this lol.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: fluff, established relationship trigger warnings: none, both you and hoshina are very silly individuals who are dating so now the silliness is doubled.

send me more asks here! i have set up a masterlist here!

hoshina soshiro, the best boyfriend in all of japan - his words, not yours - has his notifications on for all your instagram activities.

it all started when you were in the very early stages of dating, and he got upset because in his book, he is supposed to always be the first one to see, heart, and reply to your instagram stories. "that's bare minimum," he proclaimed.

you would be a bit weirded out if he wasn't so adorable.

you would post the dog you saw in your morning run and not more than a few seconds later he would respond with a keyboard smash, telling you that maybe the two of you should also get a dog. you would add a note in your profile and he would reply, making conversation.

"huh", soshiro hummed, his smartphone in his hand. the briefing in the operations room is still going on, yet his attention is on your latest instagram story. there are a few perks to being one of the best defense force officers, and one of them is no one could tell you off for not focusing on the matter at hand.

it's a picture of the front display of the flower shop somewhere in town. he's familiar with the place; he's gotten you something from there a year or two ago for your anniversary. has it been that long? he thought. soshiro knows he can be busy considering his line of work requires him to spend sometimes an entire day on the base. despite that, he makes sure to compensate for lost time and spend most weekends with you. your posting flowers can only mean one thing in his mind, and it is that you want him to get you a bouquet.

which he did.

it was a beautiful bouquet of pink carnations and even pinker gerberas wrapped in blush-colored paper. he annoyed the florist to no end, asking them for a flower arrangement that would signify eternal love.

the weird thing is you already have a bouquet of flowers nestling in your arms when he gets home. confusion overtook him.

"w-what's goin' on?" he asked when you gave him the bouquet. they're sunflowers, fresh and vivid in his eyes.

you were visibly puzzled too when he handed you the very pink collection of flowers he bought.

"i got them for you, what else?" you said in a matter-of-factly tone. "i mean, you'd been working hard these days, i wanted to show my appreciation," you said, fumbling with your thumbs. it didn't matter that you had known the guy biblically, it still flusters you when you do something romantic for him.

soshiro's face was no better. his lips parted, eyes wide, he suddenly turned around, his palms covering his cheeks. "d-don't look at me," he chuckled, suddenly shy.

you gave him a hug from the back, your arms not quite able to embrace him fully. "i got sunflowers because they remind me of you", you said.

soshiro froze, his heart swelling with emotion as he processed your words. sunflowers - the vibrant, sunny blooms that chase toward the light, mirroring his own feelings for you. he smiled, a gentle quirk from the corner of his lips. “have i told you that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?” he asked, bumping his forehead to yours until your noses touched then leaning in for a kiss.

“the best boyfriend to have ever lived just said so," you replied.

#hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro fic #kaijuu 8 gou #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no.8 x reader #I YEARN FOR BOYFRIEND HOSHINA #lian replies

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fefern · 6 months ago

Note

Hello!! I'm in love with your Wuwa hcs and writing in general and I'd love to put in a request, if you're still open for them :0 <3

I'd like to request some fluffy hcs for Jiyan with an s/o that's part dragon, has horns and tail and maybe some scales like Mortefi(forgot if you spell his name like that I'm sorry😭 the red scientist guy). The s/o is super protective of him but also aloof in public, super cuddly in private when the time is right, brings him rocks and flowers as gifts and all that cute stuff, basically courting him by "dragon standards" hajsjdjd

Thank you for your time!<3

✧˖° his reaction to a dragon hybrid lover. | jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: look in the sky! it's a bird, it's a plane, it's a... dragon hybrid reader? just how will jiyan react to being courted by you, and how does he love you as someone who's part dragon?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: jiyan and gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello hello hello! i hope you are doing well lovely anon!! thank you for sending in an ask, and i hope this fufils what you were looking for ;;!! sending lots of love, and as always, requests are open! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ jiyan ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

your tail would be so so pretty, decorated with scales that had colors that mimic the colors of the clouds and skies.

your horns would be cute on the top of your head, a bit pointy and glowing in the night.

jiyan has come to adore your dragon features, finding them both unique and absolutely beautiful. he’s caught often staring at the way your scales on your face, neck, and tail all catch the sunlight just right to create a glimmer like nothing he’s ever seen before.

he’s quiet in the way he admires you, gently curling a piece of your hair behind your pointy little ears and smiling whenever you look over at him when he does.

he didn’t have time to confess to you about his feelings though, he was caught up with being a general and of course, he also had to consider the fact that he didn’t really know if you would reciprocate them back.

would you prefer mating with another dragon hybrid yourself? is that how these things work?

after a few months of being around you though, he began to notice some… strange things.

for example, whenever you two were walking around the city, you’d always be on the defensive, not letting anyone get too close, not even the chef when you’d go get lunch together.

then, sometimes, when he comes back from long patrols, you overload him with rocks and flowers that you’ve gathered for him, and he always says thank you, even though it’s a bit difficult to bring back to his home.

(he keeps them in his room forever to admire when you’re not around.)

also, lately, you’ve been much more affectionate with him, rubbing your cheek against his and getting very touchy as well, always wanting to be close to him physically.

he expresses his confusion about your behavior to one of the researchers when he stops by one day to gather some intel for a mission for his rangers.

one of the researchers directs him to a shelf that discusses about dragon hybrids, and the man spends almost the entirety of one day learning more about you and your species.

the way he feels his cheeks flush a soft pink when he realizes just what it means for you to have been doing all these actions. he feels like he had a revelation, but at the same time feels stupid and dense.

he’s quick to come back to you one day with flowers and your favorite food in hand, giving them to you and confessing his love for you on top of a quiet hill with a beautiful view of the starry night sky.

“my pretty dragon, you’re prettier than anyone in all of huanglong, and i have loved you for quite some time. will you do me the honors and be mine?”

when you say yes, he feels overjoyed and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug as he’s careful not to hit your horns or tail while doing so.

after the successful confession, a few things change.

for one, when you begin sleeping over more at his place, he begins to gift you dozens of fluffy blankets and pillows. he organizes them in a nest-like position for you to cuddle up in, and finds it adorable when he comes back to the sight of you curled up in the fluffiness.

jiyan will cuddle with you more often now, guiding your tail to wrap around his strong muscles so that you get your fix of touching as much of his skin as possible. jiyan likes to run his hands over the smooth scales to coax you to sleep.

he enjoys pecking soft kisses on the scales of your face and neck; it’s his little reminder to you to not be insecure about something so beautiful.

overall, you’re jiyan’s most beloved treasure. he will do anything to make sure his little dragon is safe and loved.

#wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves headcanons #wuwa headcanons #wuwa x reader #jiyan #jiyan x reader #wuwa jiyan x reader #wuthering waves jiyan x reader #jiyan headcanons #wuwa jiyan headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan #wuwa jiyan #qi writes

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killerlookz · 6 months ago

Note

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #rpf #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fic

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lilaccmilk · 6 months ago

Note

Fdom human x flustered subby werewolf bf

Thank you for requesting this anon<333

You like –no– love watching him get flustered. The way his cheeks redden and the way his eyes widen. You like teasing him in public very much.

You both were sitting in the class when all of a sudden you felt like riling your cute bf up. You sneaked your hand over his crotch and gave him a firm squeeze. “W-what are you doing?” He asks with wide eyes while you just give him an innocent smile.

Whenever you make out, you make sure to grind down on him. His voice becomes whiny and breathy and it just makes you wet. But you always leave him after that. And he can’t do anything about it because he wants to be your good boy.

You like tying him up and watching him whine about how he wants to touch you, while you’re riding him. But as he’s about to come, you stop. This goes on 2-3 times more before you decide that your wolf has had enough and now you want to overstimulate him.

But before you can act upon it, you hear the restraints snapping. Your boyfriend has had enough and with tears in his eyes, he flips you over, your back on the bed as he pounds into you. He goes into a trance watching his cock going in and out in and out in and— He starts babbling apologies and other things.

“M’sorry, couldn’t wait I wanted to have this pussy so bad. Please, I’ll make it upto you. Wanna cum inside you. pleasepleasepleaseplease- You’re so tight and so warm and so pretty and–”

Yeah so he turns into a babbling mess. You let him have his release though, knowing you’ll punish him later.

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wheeboo · 1 year ago

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seventeen and their reaction to their s/o cuddling their stuffed animal after a fight

PAIRING. seventeen x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, headcanons, established relationship WARNINGS. implied arguments WORD COUNT. 462

requested by anon: In for a Soft hour 💜 Can you make Svt members reaction on reader cuddling a pillow/Plushie after a Fight? I'm Very thank full if you answer this 😁💙

notes: i would've made one for each member but... i was too tired while making this n wanted it to be quick jdslfkds and i haven't done a req or headcanon in a while so... enjoy anon <3 also idk if this is accurate i'm very Scatterbrained

seungcheol, joshua, wonwoo, seungkwan

simply cannot fathom the idea of the two of you going to bed without solving your lil argument that you had earlier. tries to sweetly coax you enough for you to face him (+ kinda melts seeing you so cute with your stuffed animal) and apologises for acting so irrational earlier and because he really hates fighting with you and doesn't want it to drag. the two of you end up making up right there, and now you both can fall asleep comfortably and happily. you both end up simultaneously cuddling each other and your stuffed animal when going to sleep dsjkflsd

mingyu, vernon, chan

feels bad. like reallyyyy bad for the argument earlier knowing that you both were just stressed out and tired and took it out on one another. but when he sees you laying on the bed with your back towards him and your arms wrapped around your stuffed animal, he can't help but kinda sulk. he knows that you're probably not in the mood to cuddle him but that honestly doesn't stop from him cuddling you. he's hesitant at first, then slowly lets his own arms come up from behind and wrap around you. he thinks you'll brush him away, but you don't, and you cuddle closer to him and with your stuffed animal. you both can talk and resolve things in the morning

junhui, soonyoung, seokmin

is lowkey losing his marbles. like you look soo cute cuddling your stuffed animal but he also feels a lil scared cuz he doesn't want to somehow escalate the argument even further by cuddling you out of habit. he tries to go to bed without having you in his arms but the thought of you being so in reach yet so out of reach hurts his poor heart. at some point he ends up falling asleep, but when he wakes up in the morning, your limbs are already entangled in one another like the argument never existed, and it brings a smile to his face <3

jeonghan, woozi, minghao

understands and lets you have your space (and is sorta also giving you the silent treatment as well). quietly crawls into bed right next to you and tries to go to sleep despite the heaviness in his chest. he also kinda knows that you aren't actually entirely asleep, but he doesn't say anything about it, just acknowledges the silence as this force to be reckoned with. just don't be surprised if some time in the middle of the night you wake up to the feeling of his hand cupping over yours, or his arm snaking around you, or his legs entangling with yours. even tho you're a lil mad at him it doesn't mean you're mad at the thought of him cuddling you :)

another note: this prob sounds repetitive but aaadkjsfhsf

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli

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qwimblenorrisstan · 2 months ago

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Meaningful Mistakes Pt. 3 | Azriel x Reader x Cassian

Summary: After the baby is born, your mates are bound to be a bit more territorial, and you a lot more tired.

Word Count: 672

Warnings: None!

A/N: this is barely even a drabble, but thanks to anon who requested this, I love writing for this cute lil couple!! hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Your mates were bound to be more territorial after the baby was born, Rhysand and Feyre had informed you as much.

You didn’t have much of a problem with that, except for the fact that it meant you couldn’t do much of anything. At all. Even today, when after weeks of being practically bed-bound because of your boys taking care of you and the baby, you’d insisted that you and your baby girl needed some fresh air.

“Tired? You should let me carry you.”

Cassian insisted for the umpteenth time as you walked through the bustling streets. His hand was in yours, and Azriel was sulking to your right, unable to hold your hand because you were holding the baby in that arm.

“I’m fine, Cass.”

He grumbled under his breath, pouting now like Az, but continued walking with you. Many people from the streets of Velaris knew Cassian and Azriel, and now, you. This, in turn, led to many people stopping to congratulate you. Mostly the women, or the older ones that had known the General and Spymaster for quite a long time. Most of the males were old and wise enough to keep their distance.

However, one Fae male that must not have heard to keep away from a newly mated pair, let alone a group that had just had a child, approached to give congratulations on this day.

“Hey, congrats on the kid-“

You nodded your head with a weary smile, as even if you tried to convince your mates that you weren’t tired, maybe you were. Just a little bit. And your ankles and calves were hurting, not to mention how sore your thighs still were from the birth.

A low snarl ripped from Azriel at the male getting a bit too close to you for comfort. Cassian bared his teeth, wings flaring behind him. The poor male didn’t seem to know why.

“Sorry, they’re…territorial.”

You said, pinching Azriel’s wing with your left hand after slipping it out of Cassian’s hand. He grumbled under his breath, and the male mumbled something while walking away. Your little girl, face still a bit smushed like all newborns, cooed and giggled at them, and both of their attention immediately went to her.

“Seriously, you two need to-“

You cut yourself off with a yawn, your finger idly rubbing your baby girl’s cheek as her hands went to try and clap in excitement, Azriel’s shadows swirling around her.

“Need to…”

You mumbled, trying to remember what you’d been saying. Azriel and Cassian met each other’s gazes, and Cassian gently took the baby from your arms, cradling her, while Azriel picked you up, mindful of your sore body. His shadows began rubbing into the sorest parts, relaxing your muscles and soothing them with their cool touch.

“You’re tired, love, let’s go home and rest.”

Azriel cooed softly to you as your eyes fluttered, he and Cassian began to walk down the streets to find a private area to winnow without bothering anyone. You could faintly hear Cassian growling at any males getting in the way of them, or getting a tiny bit too close to you, Az, or his little girl. The baby giggled in glee at every growl, seemingly very amused.

“No, no, I’m..fine..”

You mumbled, convincing no one. Az’s cool shadows wrapped around your little family, winnowing all of you back into the House of Wind, and conveniently right into your bedroom. Azriel laid you down on the bed, and within a moment you were out, breathing in a deep rhythm that drew a tiny yawn out of Az himself.

Cassian came up from behind him and gave him a little pat on the back, hand going up to ruffle his hair a bit. His other arm held their daughter.

“Get some rest, Az. I’ve got her.”

Before he could protest, Cassian gave him the gentlest kiss on the cheek he’d ever felt and left the room.

That was enough to convince Azriel, who promptly collapsed into bed alongside you.

Tags:

@fantasyandshit

@mybestfriendmademe

@cressidagrey

@tele86

#writers on tumblr #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian fluff #cassian x reader #Azriel x reader x Cassian #Azriel x Cassian x reader

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vaaaaaiolet · 24 days ago

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Sleep-deprived Leon's upstairs neighbor works late 'cause she's a singer on a deadline, and he's having none of it. He comes up with a wild solution to the problem in a moment of desperation, and he's surprised when you actually go along with it, but anything to get a full night's sleep, right? Then he finds himself wanting a bit more than camaraderie with you in the process.

f/m, romance, fluff, does this count as crack??? popstar reader w/ a twist, ID leon is USELESS w tech + lives under a ROCK, also you manic pixie dream girl a bit too close to the sun but it's ok bc ur cute LOL

word count: 2.6k // read this chapter on ao3

a/n: req fic + belated bday gift for my lovely 🍍 anon!! as usual i got carried away and butchered it. um. NOTHING makes sense just go w the vibes i beg you </3 pt. 2 coming out asap bc this fic will not leave me alone in the best way :)

chapter one

Rule of thumb: don’t bang on the first date.

Leon’s wrapping his pillow around his head like a pair of goddamn Beefs (or is Beets? those tacky, overpriced- oh, forget it) while his upstairs neighbor gives her bed a run for its money on a Friday night, at a blessed 9 PM no less.

Oh yeah. Her.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

R-rated suspicions aside, Leon tries hoping for the best. His new neighbor might just be an interior designer of the nocturnal sort. Sick of his previous rowdy, college kid-infested apartment building, he’d moved into this complex not too long ago thanks to a very politely-worded call to Hunnigan about open listings in quiet, senior citizen-friendly neighborhoods. Call him old, call him boring, but after a long day of running around saving humanity from the newest bioweapon to hit the market, all Leon ever wants to do these days is get a few winks of sleep. He’s pushing 30. Insomnia’s no fountain of youth, people.

Thump, thump-thump-thump.

New Girl upstairs seemed to have the same idea but with far more nefarious intent. She’d moved in at the same time as him, he’s sure – Leon saw a flash of her face a few days ago when she was lugging boxes of stuff into the elevator up to her floor. She’s the only sign of life from the 21st century he’s encountered since the day he came to sign his lease papers. Why?

Because Hunnigan had fulfilled his request to a T. Leon’s new apartment building is long-term care home adjacent.

Full of grandmas and grandpas who got about as loud as their record players, only leaving their homes to fetch the mail – telegrams by the wrinkles on some of them. It was perfect. Leon was positively thrilled when Eunice from Unit 202 very, very slowly, waved hello to him on his moving day.

THUMP-THUMP! THUMP-THUMP!

And then she happened.

Maybe he’s just a grumpy old man right where he belongs, in all his 29-and-a-half glory. But the pounding that girl is giving her bed with some frat boy right now is giving Leon the college dorm experience all over again. It takes him half an hour of tossing and turning in his sheets to throw on an old jacket, beeline to the elevator, punch the neon 3 button, and darken New Girl’s doorstep.

His turn now. A quick knock, knock is enough for Unit 304’s door to open a crack.

“Hey, I’m from downst- oh my God, are you decent?”

And you, standing at the door in a dress that’s more sheer than his disbelief, only tilt your head to go, “Huh?”

“Listen, I know tomorrow’s the weekend but I- shit,” his face burns, “could you keep it down, please? You guys are really loud and it’s late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You- you and whoever you’re with, could you not do this right now?” Leon croaks.

Your hands flail wildly in dismissal. “Oh no, that was just me jumping on my bed! Helps with my creative process,” you say, smiling weakly. “I didn’t know the floors were that thin, I’m sorry.”

Bullshit. “They are.” Leon grimaces, “And um, it’s fine if you guys are loud, just save it for when everyone’s asleep next time.”

A frown interrupts your smile. “I just said it was me. There’s no one else here, seriously.”

“So what’s with the getup?”

“The-” your eyes drift down to the near see-through of your dress and Leon gestures vaguely, as if you need more explanation to why he’s avoiding eye contact with your chest. “Oh, this?”

He nods.

“Creative process!” you chirp brightly.

“For what, pray tell?”

Curiously, that puts the wind out of your sails. Suddenly you having trouble meeting Leon’s eyes, lashes fluttering as you look up, down, anywhere that’s not his face.

“For school,” you finally make out, fingers wrapping around the edge of your door. “I’m a music major.”

Pianos and prancing on beds don’t exactly mix. He can’t help but squint at you. “And the jumping helps with…?”

“Getting past writer’s block!”

Back to bubbly with the ball in your court, you go so far as to open your door a little further to explain. Leon’s cheeks blaze as he tries his damndest to keep his eyes from drifting south.

“I read online that moving around helps with ideas, and I’m supposed to have a whole album written by the end of the week. I probably shouldn’t have procrastinated…” you trail off with a half-hearted chuckle, “so now I’m throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks, y’know?”

He hums. “You wanna be a singer?”

“Mhm!” Your updone hair bobs with you, reminding him a little of a bobblehead. It’s almost cute enough to make his AMs worthwhile.

“Then you better start singing somewhere else, sweetheart. The walls are just as thin as the floors.”

And Leon immediately turns his ass around to go back to sleep.

In hindsight, it might’ve been a little mean of him to leave like that. But his bed is just so heavenly, and with the sleep deprivation he’s been racking up lately, Leon’s half sure he just dreamed that entire exchange. There’s no way a girl like you in college – in her 20s, give or take – is seriously jumping on her bed on a Friday night for a homework assignment. That too in a dress fit for the club to add to the irony. Are all creatives this weird?

He pinches the bridge of his nose as the elevator descends, pushing aside his last glimpse of the glum expression he left you with in your doorway. So much for first impressions. But hey, you didn’t really make a great one either. He’ll call it even. Maybe get you a gift basket for chivalry’s sake.

He considers all this as he slips back under his blankets, finally, at 9:45 PM.

And then he hears a creeeaaak.

“Please,” Leon groans, jamming his pillow over his ears.

Thump…thump?

Nix the gift basket.

6:00 AM on Saturday finds Leon with his eyes wide open and glazed insomniac red.

His alarm blares as if to say, you actually thought you’d need to get woken up, didn’t you?

It’s a little patronizing. He teaches it a lesson by throwing it off his nightstand.

Sometime between 11 and 12 at night, you’d gotten bored of your bed and taken to something with wheels. An office chair is Leon’s best guess. You’d rolled across your floor all night, and the resulting clatter of plastic grating on hardwood had kept him awake until the sunrise. Hangovers were more pleasant than the night of sleep (or lack thereof) he’d just gotten, and Leon’s no wimp. He’s a man, goddamnit. A decorated government agent!

So he handles the problem at its source. Whips out his flip phone like a man, and makes a very important call.

A disgruntled female voice crackles through at the first ring. “May I remind you that this line’s only for emergencies, Leon?”

“It is! I need you to find me another apartment, Hunnigan, please,” Leon sits up, rubbing his eyes to plead his case to an unimpressed Ingrid Hunnigan. “My upstairs neighbor won’t let me sleep. The floors are thin as hell and she’s been moving around all night. It’s even worse than my last place.”

“Really? An old lady is giving you that hard of a time?”

“She’s college age — a singer — and when she starts singing for her homework all the time, I’m really not going to get any sleep. I’m begging you, Hunnigan. Get me out of here.”

“Strange.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Truly,” Hunnigan deadpans. “You know how hard of a time I had getting you into an apartment building only for people over 55, Leon?”

He winces, holding the phone a little further from his ears just in case.

“How many favors I had to cash in, strings I had to pull, all because you’re hopeless at navigating an apartment listing site, let alone anything on the Internet? Do you realize I had to do that in my personal time because your request would fall under illegal use of federal intelligence resources?”

Leon falters. “I didn’t-”

“So here’s what you’re going to do,” Hunnigan says shortly. “You are going right back to your neighbor and working out a solution like an adult.”

“But I already-”

“You’re solving this on your own, Leon. Figure something out because I know you can delegate. Got it?”

He really doesn’t. He’s only good at that outside of the US.

“Is that clear, Agent Kennedy?” Hunnigan repeats for semantic measure.

“Crystal,” Leon mopes, sapped of all hope when she ends the call with a ‘good luck’, just like back in Spain. A familiar routine.

He’s back in front of Unit 304 by 9:00 AM.

You open your door with a half-chewed yawn, wrapped in a robe and looking deceptively angelic, that is, if it weren’t for the immediate pinch your pretty brows take on when you grace him with a decidedly sour look.

“Up already?” Leon tries.

This time all he gets in response is a quick nod, a mouth parted in distaste.

Forward march, Kennedy.

“You were up past midnight. I heard you, y’know, on your chair. Kinda loud.”

“I’m not annoying you on purpose,” you sigh, tucking your arms into a tight cross over the fluff of your robe. “I just really have to turn my album in on time and I’m having crazy writer’s block. They told me the people here are quiet and easygoing. I haven’t had a single noise complaint so far except for you, did you know that?”

“That’s because everyone in this building either has hearing aids or doesn’t realize they need them yet,” Leon grits. “I don’t even know how you got in here, to be honest.”

“A sparkling letter of recommendation, thank you very much. And you?” You push up on your toes indignantly. “Are you just older than you look? ‘Cause you might need a pair of hearing aids yourself.”

Leon bites back a scoff. “Don’t need ‘em. I can hear you plain as day from below.”

Sirens are starting to blare in his head and it’s like he can feel Hunnigan glaring at him from her HQ in the sky. Aborting mission again isn’t an option. If Leon doesn’t fix things now, he’d be starting bad blood that might outlast the combined remaining lifespans of the building’s tenants. His salary could cover rent that long; his ego, not so much.

You’re about two seconds away from shutting your door in Leon’s face before he interrupts with a save pulled straight from his ass: “I’ll help you write your songs.”

So instead, you squawk, “What?”

He sticks the toe of his shoe in your doorjamb for insurance. Blurts, “I mean it. I’ll help you come up with ideas.”

“How on Earth would you do that?”

Great question. No better time than the present for the both of you to find out.

“You said moving around helps?” Leon repeats for you to confirm with a quizzical nod, “I’ll take you anywhere you want. Anywhere in the city, you name it, I’ve got a motorcycle I’ll get you there on. It’ll be a change of scenery. Just whatever you do, enough with the gymnastics at midnight.”

It’s a desperate lifeline, a creepy one now that he’s had more than two seconds to think about it, but a lifeline nonetheless.

And to his horror, all you do is stare.

The resulting silence feels like crystallizing amber. A clock ticks agonizingly from somewhere in your living room. Tick, tick, shit, he desponds. But thankfully, your laugh bubbles out not a moment too soon, sending a tsunami of relief down his shoulders.

“Gymnastics, really?” you snort, covering your mouth with a well-manicured hand.

“I’m serious.” Leon shoots for a winning smile. “But I have to ask, is working late also part of your creative process?”

Your eyes crinkle maybe, but you shake your head no.

“Then we’ll go whenever you’re free. Show you a few of my favorite spots, see if it speeds up your songwriting. Sound okay, sweetheart?”

“How about now?” you pipe up.

Leon coughs his splutter into something more dignified.

“You said whenever I was free! It’s a Saturday, you’re free,” you point a finger at his chest, “I’m free,” turn it back on yourself, “and I need to finish writing my album by, like, yesterday. This is perfect!” With a miniscule squeal, you disappear back into your apartment.

Leon’s left standing in your entryway wondering when his lifeline became a dynamite detonation cord.

“You haven’t even asked me my name,” he calls out to deaf ears. Cups his hands for effect because he can hear you flinging hangers onto the floor. “Don’t they teach you about stranger danger at school?”

“I’ll find out eventually!” floats back your worrying response.

You’re an efficient dresser, Leon gives you that. A thankfully normal one too at the dress and heels you rush back up to the door with. A large pair of cat-eye sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose makes Leon do a double take at the cloudy sky outside, but then again, maybe it’s another part of your creative process. Beyond his pay grade.

You adjust your sunnies with gusto, grin up at him when he gives you a curious look.

“Well, go on,” you say, pulling out your phone.

Leon blinks at the glowing rectangle.

“Number, name?” You tilt it as if you’re trying to entice a toddler. “I can’t just keep calling you Mr. Noise Complaint.”

“Aw, you’ve been telling your friends about me?” Leon chuckles at last, pulling out his flip phone and handing it to you.

And suddenly it’s your turn to stare at a piece of foreign technology.

You take your sweet time putting in your number. It’s very entertaining, the way the tip of your tongue sticks out the tiniest bit when you make a mistake and the sound of furious keypad backspacing follows right after. Leon’s no better, setting himself on your phone as “LOEN KEENAYD”, and with his pride bordering on hubris, he has no choice but to keep it that way.

“Really small backspace key,” he fibs when you peer at the gibberish in your contacts.

Your lip bite makes for a piss-poor job of hiding how funny it is.

“It’s Leon, by the way. Leon Kennedy. Apartment 204.”

You fix his name in half the time it took him to put it in. He holds his hand out for a shake, timeless enough, and you give it three businesslike pumps.

“I have to grab a spare helmet from my place, I’ll meet you down at the garage,” Leon promises.

You point at him before stepping into the elevator. “Either your idea works or I’ll have to work past midnight to get this album done and then you’ll really owe me, Leon.”

In another life, you could’ve been a CEO. You’ve certainly got the pointer finger for it.

Leon tips his chin in acknowledgment. “Whatever it takes to get back into your good graces, ma’am,” he grins.

That gets a cackle out of you as the elevator doors slide shut.

And he takes the stairs this time, waves good morning to Eunice in 215 on his way to pick up that helmet for you. It must be a good day, Leon thinks, sounding out your name in his phone’s contacts. Eunice even has a post- Great Depression era vinyl playing on her record player. Maybe it’s a sign to not be so glum about his situation. He’s finally fixing it, isn’t he?

So be it. A guy can dream. In Leon’s case, he’s hoping he gets eight hours by Monday.

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