#I asked the artist them being like feeling good because I missed them so much

[oacest]

Hi I would like to delve deeper into the oasis lore and was wondering if you have any book recs ?

I read that the supersonic book (containing all the interviews from the doc) is quiet extensive, and obvi from the sources themselves, but maybe you have other Recs that you found interesting?

we were delighted to get this ask, bc yes yes YES we DO have loads of opinions on the oasis books! Be aware that most of these cover sort of the same time period (my spirit mourns for an in-depth book dealing with the mid-to-late aughts). Presumably every publishing house in the UK circa 1996 was offering book deals to randos if they heard the name "Oasis", but these are the best ones (there are, if you can believe it, many more):

The Supersonic interviews are a definite rec -- they're exhaustive, cover way more than the doc suggests, and feature a lot more voices too. The editing job is astounding. Definitely be aware while reading that the interviews were conducted in 2015; with Oasis especially, facts and feelings change depending on time, mood, the wind, whether one is hungover, etc

Brothers from childhood to Oasis by Paul Gallagher. If one never reads any other book on Oasis, they should read this. In fact, no one is permitted to have an opinion on Noel or Liam without having read it. Paul has his blindspots, as one would expect with any sibling, but he also ofc knows his brothers and what makes them tick in a way no one else on the planet does, so!

Oasis: what's the story? by Ian Robertson. This one is somewhat controversial; the author was a bodyguard/security coordinator for Oasis and people understandably have opinions on that. Imo he's a good enough writer that he has a very clear authorial voice and perspective, which makes any worry about being fed lies moot so long as one has a brain. I appreciate he also takes some artistic risks in this book. Also, regardless of his flaws as a man or employee lol, he has a keen, at times painfully empathetic read on Liam specifically. iirc he was the only person who wrote about Oasis in those early years who had a front row seat to Liam's voice/throat problems, which lends a somewhat Cassandraic air to the whole book.......

Getting high: the adventures of Oasis by Paolo Hewitt. Oh, Paolo. What can we say. You have to read this one because it covers so much ground, just be aware it's badly written and the author is quite biased towards Noel. (I say this as a Noelist myself)

Was There Then: A Photographic Journey by Jill Furmanovsky. This is a photography book (and a fucking beautiful one) but it also has a TON of text background. Critically, it offers a perspective on the band/brothers missing from all the rest in this list -- that is, the view and impressions of two women who worked closely with the band (Jill herself and Daniela Soave, a music journalist)

Oasis, definitely by Tim Abbot. This one had a lot of personality and abbot was a creation guy so he knew the band pretty well.

Take Me There: Oasis' Story by Paul Mathur. Mathur was a Melody Maker journalist who followed them around in the early years. He had a pretty fair take on them.

The Truth: my life as Oasis's drummer by Tony McCarroll. So, obviously Tony hates Noel, like. A lot. You have to approach this book like you're giving a hostile witness a cross examination lol but THAT SAID, he does cover stuff missing from other books like pre-deal Oasis.

[shibanagame]

Flash Thompson and Venom commission art by Ariel Olivetti, 2020

[ayyy-pee]

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone. 

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t. 

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass. 

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be. 

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests. 

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words. 

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: You’re plagued by the kid who lives in your neighborhood, the kid you know has a crush on you. You left town, you lived your life without him, and now you’re staring at him face to face after years. Something about him has changed and now you can’t help but want him back.

Square Filled: art student au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

As soon as the last bell at school rings, you race off campus to start the walk home. It’s not a far walk but you enjoy the silence you get from it. Your house is filled with little brothers and sisters and it’s hard to get a moment of peace. Your parents do the best they can but you know it’s hard for them. You’re the oldest so you’re expected to help out which is why you also enjoy your time alone.

You walk around the corner and notice the sixth house down from yours with the garage open. You’re not sure how you feel but something washes over you knowing what’s going to come next. Maybe it’s annoyance or irritation or indifference but the same thing happens every single time you walk home from school.

The only kid that lives there, Spencer Reid, loves to come out and walk with you the rest of the way to your house. He’s a nice kid but that’s all he is--a kid. He’s two years older than you are but you’re much taller than he is. If he is going to get a growth spurt, he’s getting it late in life or maybe his family are just short people. He’s not enrolled in your school because he’s mega smart and needs higher education to stimulate his brain.

You slip past his house in hopes you can enjoy the rest of your walk in silence but you hear the garage door slam shut and footsteps padding down the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N! Almost missed you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you shake your head.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine. It’s just school.”

“Today was my first day of college and it was exhilarating. I have to admit, I wish you were there. Or I wish I was enrolled in your high school like all the other normal kids. At least we’d be together.”

You knew he had a crush on you after the first conversation you ever had with him. He called you pretty and vowed he’d walk with you to protect you against predators. It was cute at first but not you’re interested in someone like him. Like you said, he’s nice and has the potential of being a good boyfriend but he’s short and you don’t go for short boys.

“Sure, Spencer.”

“Listen, my mom gave me some money and I wanted to see this new French film that’s playing across town. Do you think you’d want to maybe go with me?”

Never has he ever had the balls to ask you out. Now that he has, you need to put a stop to this. He’ll get over the crush and you won’t be humiliated every time you go out in public. Does that make you selfish? Maybe. Does that make you a douche? Definitely. You stop outside of your house and look down at Spencer who has a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Spencer, listen, you’re a nice kid but it’s never going to happen between us.” Spencer’s face falls but he doesn’t say anything. “Grow over six feet and then we’ll talk, okay?”

You meant that as a joke but you don’t stick around to see if he laughs. That’s the last time you ever saw Spencer Reid.

Now

Today is the day. You’re given the opportunity to feature your art in one of the most successful art galleries in the country. You studied at Princeton and got a degree in fine arts before interning for known artist Benjamin Hale. He’s so successful that he has hundreds of galleries across America with dozens more across the world. He was impressed with your portfolio and offered to let you study underneath him while creating your artwork in private.

He offered you a chance to showcase your work in one of his new galleries. According to him, he needs new blood in this gallery and you’re the perfect fit for it. Your speciality is portraits, realism, and photorealism. Your favorite things to draw are people but there is something about being in nature and drawing what God put on this Earth. You have an eye for making your paintings look real and raw, and you’re able to capture people’s emotions henceforth the realism part of your art.

You only have about a dozen works put up in your small corner of the gallery but you’re proud of it all. You might not sell anything tonight and that’s okay. When you got the word out that the gallery was going to open, people agreed to come once they saw free food and wine was going to be handed out. Still, you appreciate everyone coming.

The place is packed mostly for Benjamin’s work but you see some people enjoying your work. You’re in the back room getting more wine for the servers when one of them joins you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Lori. I’ve just gotten the box of wine for you guys.”

“I just came back here to tell you that someone just bought all of your things.” You’re so shocked that you spring up but hit your head on the corner of a shelf. You yelp in pain and rub the sore area before backing out of the dusty corner. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did you just say?”

“Someone bought all of your work.”

You don’t wait to hear what else she has to say. You’re already out the door and rushing into the main room. You look to your section but don’t see anyone lingering around. You’re not paying attention to where you’re walking when you almost run into someone. The man grabs your shoulders to prevent you from falling and lets out a chuckle.

“Are you okay?”

Wait you know that voice. You look up at the man towering over six feet tall. Damn, he grew up.

“Spencer?”

“So, you do remember me.”

He lets go of your shoulders and allows you to take a step back from him. Damn, not only did he grow but he grew more handsome since the last time you saw him. Well, he was fifteen the last time you saw him but still.

“How could I forget the little boy who followed me for two years?”

“Yeah, I kind of had a crush on you,” he chuckles.

Oh, he even has a beautiful smile. Damn, I really was a dick to him back then. You try to ignore the pang of sadness at his use of “had” and not “have”.

“I know you did. I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

“Looking for someone?” he asks before you have a chance to leave his side.

“Yeah, someone bought everything I have out.”

“It was me.”

You pause and turn to look at him. He has a slight smirk on his face, and something in your head clicks into place. You look at him up and down and notice how he’s trying hard not to be overly confident in his decision.

“So, what, you got older and taller and now you think you’re hot shit?”

Spencer shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the one looking up, not me.” Your jaw drops several inches at his remark. “So, can we talk now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me to grow over six feet and we’ll talk. Well, I’m over six feet now. Will you let me take you out?”

You have no clue what to say to that because your mind is reeling from the last thing he said. Someone calls his name and you both see a black man, two blondes, and a brunette waving him over. They point to their watches which means he is either late or they have to go. He digs in his pocket and produces a business card. Only it’s not a business card. He’s in the fucking FBI.

“How about this?” He hands the card to you. “Call me when I can pick this stuff up and maybe we’ll talk then.”

He leaves your side and joins his friend group without another look at you. Is it shallow to want him now? Maybe. Are you going to try like hell to make up for lost time? Definitely.

x

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[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[grlsbstshot]

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of 'loved em and left em' behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter Synopsis: Jameson makes a late night appearance in his ex's life after a year apart. Warnings: Smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness infidelity mentions, explicit language (mild dirty talk), unprotected sex, daddy kink (very much so), unintentional breath play, dirty talking, creampie Word Count: 6.7k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists. There will be alternating POVs between our two leads.

Chapter I: Real Games

[ blockdt unless horny ] : wya?

imani rolled her eyes and tossed the phone back across the couch. of course jameson decided that after a year of not seeing one another, he'd reach out NOW. a year after he broke her heart and ruined their three year relationship, he decided to contact her. with three letters? pathetic. even more pathetic was the fact that she picked the phone back up...and thought of a response.

jameson lucas was like a drug to her. when they met, he was cocky but never without reason. he pursued her relentlessly and it didn't take long until they were everywhere together. the son of a r&b legend, jameson took his own path into music. they just fit each other. imani's own career was in its early stages but she took off like a rocket. soon enough, they were the first names called in their fields. especially when they used their love affair to inspire music. they took a hit of each other and it was nonstop. he knew all he had to do was get his foot in the door and she'd be gone. but imani was determined not to play his game this time. he was almost out of her system. she'd get rid of him for good now.

[ imani ] : why do you care? [ blockdt unless horny ] : i miss you. that better? [ imani ] : no. it's still not explaining what the fuck you want [ blockdt unless horny ] : if i'm looking for you and i want to see you. what do you think i want? [ imani ] : sex? got it. okay, not interested [ blockdt unless horny ] : if i wanted to fuck, i wouldn't have a problem finding somebody to do that with. i want to see you because i miss you. am i being clear enough? [ imani ] : lmfao yeah i guess you wouldn't. i'm not dumb. you want something. [ blockdt unless horny ] : you. i want you. i am literally saying what i want. [ imani ] : and why should i give you access to me? [ blockdt unless horny ] : because i'm asking? begging, really. because i love you? [ imani ] : love me? let's be fucking real, jameson [ blockdt unless horny ] : if i don't love you, i don't love nobody, mani. you not tired of fighting yet? [ imani ] : lmfaoooo you're a fucking joke. you don't cheat on the person you love. [ blockdt unless horny ] : i made a mistake. that doesn't change the fact that i love you. i know we'll never be together again because you don't trust me but what am i supposed to do with the shit i feel? [ imani ] : stop saying you love me. idk maybe you need to live with that shit. i'm doing perfectly fine without you. [ blockdt unless horny ] : okay

jameson exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself. he knew deep in his heart that getting in touch with imani had been a mistake. their relationship came crashing down after his infidelity. a night with a woman he shouldn't have been with spiraled. guilt-ridden, he had confessed the next day then spent months trying to get her back. when his efforts failed and she'd gotten a quarterback as her next man -- jameson had moved on. he'd had another girlfriend for a few months but imani hadn't left his mind. he watched every instagram post with an eager eye but it wasn't like he could avoid her. imani st. cirie was r&b's favorite lover girl. her lyrics were captions more often than his own. he could feel her scolding him with every record release but he listened anyway. the two of them played a game where they pretended not to care or notice one another...but in the dark of night, his finger always hovered over that button to call her. even as another woman lay in his bed. sometimes he fought the urge to press it but most of the time he failed -- and got her voicemail. he wrote songs for her, keeping the object of his affection nameless but their fans could connect the dots. he wasn't over her and never would be.

now his bed was empty and he allowed hope to carry him away. they were both single for the first time in a year. maybe now was the time to work it out? imani's texts quickly shut the idea down. he was losing her and any minute, she'd block him. jameson shuffled uncomfortably in the front seat of his mercedes benz. his gaze strayed up to the gates of her home, wondering if she could see him and knew how atrociously down bad he was. his phone beeped on his lap and he peered down in surprise. she responded ?

[ imani ] : now the cat got your fuckin tongue? [ jameson ] : what would you like me to say to that, imani? nothing, right? [ imani ] : it's just so funny to me. why should i give you what you want? [ jameson ] : why are you asking me questions you really don't care about the answer to? you miss me too. you want to see me too. you love me too. so why are we doing this? [ imani ] : i do want an answer. all that's true but you know it's not good for us to see each other. [ jameson ] : i know, baby. i know you deserve better than this. i just miss you. let me see you for ten minutes. [ imani ] : no. [ jameson ] : baby, please. i swear to god i'll leave after that. [ imani ] : fine. i'm at home. [ jameson ]: i'm outside

imani stared down at her phone with wide eyes, in shock as if she wasn't the one who just texted the words 'fine. i'm at home'. she dropped her phone and jumped off her couch, hands over her mouth. "shit, shit, shit." the woman muttered behind her palms. what the hell was she going to do now? she hadn't expected herself to invite him over and she sure as fuck didn't expect him to be sitting outside.

she took a second more to panic before sprinting up her stairs and down the hall into her bedroom. she tugged her t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her shorts followed as she dug into her drawer for another outfit. something that said 'i'm not thinking about you, bitch! but you think i'm cute?' she ended up with a cropped sweatsuit. it showed the tiniest bit of skin and was still comfortable. she didn't bother trying to wrestle with her hair. she left it in a ponytail and practically broke her neck going to brush her teeth.

her doorbell hadn't rung but she could feel the moment he was in front of her home. an electric undercurrent made her body tense. she finished in the bathroom and forced herself to take slow, measured steps back down to the first floor. she wouldn't be seen trying to look her best for him. he was only visiting for ten minutes anyway.

she was crazy for agreeing with this. she knew she should have left the conversation alone but she couldn't help herself. everything that jameson said was true. she missed him. she loved him. she wanted to see him...and imani hated herself for it. yet there she was opening the door for him. "hey." she managed to utter uninterestedly, taking her time before she met his gaze. when she did, she could have choked on her damn spit.

to his mother and god be all the fucking glory...he was beautiful.

it hadn't been as if she hadn't seen his face since they split. he'd released an album, won three grammys for it, and embarked on a very public relationship with a co-star from that little comedic show he was doing. but seeing him up close and personal again? insane. imani grasped the doorknob tightly to keep herself from moving toward him.

freshly braided cornrows lined his scalp and met at the back of his head. she couldn't see the tattoo at the back of his neck but she knew it was there. she had traced her nails across it often enough. it was the soundwave of his first platinum single. he'd been so proud of it. he had numerous other tattoos but that was the one she loved the most. his warm, golden brown skin that she'd kissed and licked so much that she knew every inch of it practically glowed. he had shaved his beard down to a goatee. it framed full lips that could do the most devilish things to her. he lifted his long, incredibly agile, fingers to give her a wave and it broke her out of the spell she was under.

"hey. you got a timer going?" he asked her, humor evident in his tone but she was too distracted by the sound of his voice. deep, soothing, commanding. imani abruptly turned away from the door and stopped in her living room, folding her arms over her chest. the sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could leave.

"i thought you would have it since you said you were only staying for ten minutes." they both knew that he often made promises that he couldn't keep but she wanted to see how long he'd keep up with the charade. imani crossed one leg over the other as she peered at him. why did he have to be so fine? maybe if he wasn't attractive, things would be easier.

"would rather spend my time looking at you than watching a clock." he told her softly, lowering himself onto the same couch as her. as close as he could get. jameson leaned back against the cushions, settling comfortably. he didn't say anything else for a few moments, one hand patting at his chest lightly. "i feel better seeing you." he admitted lowly. "i know you think i'm full of shit...but that's true. i miss you when i'm not with you. i only feel better when i'm right here."

imani sighed softly. she could feel herself crack at the confession but she refused to go down without a fight. "you just wasted two of your minutes." her stony expression didn't hold up so she chose to look away, not responding again. she just didn't know how to. instead, she slightly shifted so she wasn't as close to him. the perfect storm was brewing between them and she had to decide if she was strong enough to withstand it. "is that all you came over here for? we both know you're just gonna get bored with me, cheat, and then leave again. quit while you're behind."

"i'm okay with whatever you want to do." jameson told her, knowing that the day was coming when she would get tired of this and cut him out for good. he'd have no choice but to let her go. but today wasn't that day. he could tell that even though she was sick of his shit, she didn't mean that they should cut things off. and being the man he was...he was glad. instead of answering her question, jameson was quiet. "but i was never bored of you. i swear."

he didn't quite know why they never seemed to get things right. he drifted away from her and then couldn't stand it so he came right back. she got pissed at him and told him to fuck off but then let him come back. it was crazy but it was them. "you know what you mean to me." he said softly, pulling his hand from his pocket to lift his hand. he brushed his thumb against her cheek, tilting his head to watch her expression. "don't you?"

when imani turned to meet his gaze, he knew it hadn't been wrong to contact her. it had been a year but the same energy was between them. he watched her try to pull herself again, try to pull the hardass out and build the wall back up between them. that was the thing about loving someone you knew like the back of your hand -- you saw everything. even the shit they didn't want you to see. "enough with the bullshit, jameson."

literally no other woman could have him open like she did. he spent years sniffing after her. and when he cheated, he spent months begging. he'd never begged a woman for anything. but he knew he'd get down on his knees for her each and every time. "i fucked you over and i regret it everyday." he said softly, pulling his hand from her. "i never loved anybody before i saw you. i can't prove to you it's not bullshit but i swear on everything...you are the love of my life."

it was the one thing he had never told her and he knew saying it shifted things for him emotionally. but damn it, he was running out of answers. "i can't breathe unless i know you're a phone call away. i can barely fucking function if i go too long without seeing you. you are everything." 

silence lapsed between them as they both processed that there was some kind of breakthrough happening. their communication had been better in bed than anywhere else but jameson knew he'd strip as many layers as he could to get down to the heart of it all. the longer they went without speaking, the more he wondered what she was thinking.

"you hurt me, jameson. you do that shit every time and I let you." she said, looking into his eyes. "i don't know why i fuckin' let you do it. but i do." she moved from her spot, positioning herself in his lap. jameson made room for her, wrapping his arms around her waist. the two fell into tandem -- as if they hadn't spent any time apart at all. imani straddled his lap, he could see the regret in her face but he couldn't bring himself to let her ponder on it. he lifted his head and pressed the gentlest kiss to the corner of her mouth. she melted against him and he heard her whisper against his ear. "just don't promise me shit this time. i don't want to hear any lies."

jameson knew he should be a better man and let her be happy with someone else. but he couldn't find it in himself. "okay, baby." what else could he say? he was a piece of shit. "just...don't give up on me." he said softly, surprising himself with how much he meant the words. "i need you. ain't no me without you." his hand pressed against the small of her back, fingertips stroking against her spine as he sighed. "my ten minutes are up, i think. give me a kiss goodnight."

there it was. she had let him just waltz back into her fucking life. folded quicker than a cheap umbrella in a hurricane. a few apologies, kisses, and touches -- imani was partially disgusted with herself. she was relieved to see she wasn't alone in her addiction though. he clung to her body like a man who hadn't been touched in an eternity even though she knew that was far from the truth. maybe she couldn't leave him alone but she could establish a set of boundaries. not lying seemed easy enough.

she sighed as he relaxed into her body. her arms wrapped rightly around his neck and she placed a kiss on his forehead. "i guess you can stay a little longer." imani slipped her hand under his chin, bringing his lips to hers. that familiar feeling washed over her just from the feel of his lips.

imani could feel him smile against her lips and she couldn't help but nip against his lower lip to settle his ego. jameson gave a lingering groan at the contact. it'd been so long since she'd touched him but every single time, it felt like coming home. "mm. mm-uh." he exhaled, breaking the kiss and shaking his head as he swiftly rose from the couch. imani went up with him, thinking quickly and wrapping her legs around his waist. "i can't stay. i gotta go." he muttered, "i promised i'd leave after ten minutes. i just said i wouldn't lie to you."

it was obvious he didn't want to go. if it hadn't been obvious from the way he kept leaning into her, his body begging for those little kisses from her -- it was obvious when he rose from the couch. he braced his hands underneath her, fingers sprawling across her ass. imani was pressed against him, the evidence of what he wanted to do pressed against her thigh. he couldn't lie to her even if he wanted to. "i'm gonna put you down...in a minute." he mumbled, burying his face against the crook of her neck.

suddenly, she didn't want to talk. she didn't want to think of the shit he'd done to her, the way he'd broken her heart. all she wanted to do was feel. That's what she wanted to focus on right now. "no, no, no." she murmured, shaking her head. "this is a promise you can break. it's okay." she placed her hand on the back of his neck. her acrylics grazed his skin -- claiming him once again. imani left a trail of kisses against his neck to his earlobe then sucked it into her mouth. "you're not leaving." she told him in a demanding whisper.

imani pressed herself to him, nails grazing the skin at the back of his neck, and he felt himself break out in chills. the slight pressure there pleased him. his arms tightened around her as he sighed softly. imani pulled back and he saw the smirk gracing her lips. she knew. she knew he was weak for her and knew exactly how to get what she wanted from him. nobody knew him better than her -- whatever she might think of their relationship, she got him in a way nobody else did. she knew exactly what made him tick and she proved it just then. jameson didn't bother to vocally agree. he just began to walk through her living room, headed to the stairs to get to her bedroom. 

"i hate your house sometimes." he huffed as he shifted her in his arms, tossing her onto his shoulder. she gave a short yell of surprise at the move, her hands pressed to his lower back as he carried her up the stairs. the couch wasn't big enough for what he wanted to do with her. "i can't even fuck you on these uncomfortable ass stairs."

"you don't think so?" she asked. "i don't know. that sounds like a challenge to me." the palm of his hand swatted towards her ass, the stinging in his palm probably not as intense as the one she felt. "a challenge for both of us to break our necks." he walked up the stairs easily, her weight against his shoulder going unnoticed. jameson didn't even bother to answer her question any further. he was sure it'd be uncomfortable but he was also sure he'd fuck her anywhere he could. it was the exact reason he walked down her hallway and took the first left he saw. it wasn't the direction of her bedroom...but it was the closest one to them.

even as the heat and tension spiraled between them, he managed to keep his senses alert enough to flip the light switch. in the brightness of the spare bedroom, jameson carefully lowered imani from his shoulder, standing with her next to the bed. for a moment as he placed her onto the bed. he hadn't been lying when he said he'd rather look at her than anything else. he watched as she struggled to get out of the sweatsuit. she tugged her arms free but seemed too jittery to completely get undressed.

jameson began to move closer...leaving her no choice but to fall backward onto the bed. she began to crawl up it, watching him the whole time. "you impatient, mama?" he asked her, a grin gracing his full lips. imani nodded, meeting his gaze. he dropped his hands to her hips, fingertips grazing against the band of her sweatpants. without a word, he gently pulled them over the curve of her ass then down legs. "me too." he confessed. before she could say anything, he was kneeling in front of her. "show me you missed me." jameson said softly, kissing her thigh.

he saw the moment it clicked in her mind what he wanted from her. her hand moved between her legs and jameson spread her thighs greedily, not wanting to miss a moment. they clicked into their typical roles when it came to sex so quickly that he was practically moving on autopilot. he talked to her like he was still her man, like no time had passed at all. imani's fingers parted her folds with ease, wetness sticking to her fingers. she let out a hushed moan as her fingers pressed into her pussy.

some games he and imani played were painful. some pissed him off. some were even amusing. but the best kind of games were the ones where they drove each other crazy. he watched her play along with him -- following his command with ease. "i forgot how pretty she gets when you're turned on." he murmured, slowly pulling his own sweatshirt over his head. jameson tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. "spread. let me see it all. make me remember." he was pleased when imani whimpered softly and did as he said. fingertips parted her folds, exposing her clit to him as her legs parted further as well.

he didn't have any charming shit to say, nothing smooth or seductive. all he knew was that he wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. so jameson descended to the bed, settling himself between her legs. his hand reached out for her own, gently grasping her fingers to pull them to his mouth. he sucked at her digits, carefully pulling each from his mouth to savor the taste of her until he tasted nothing but her skin. both of his hands came to her thighs, pulling her further down the bed and toward his mouth. jameson pressed a kiss to her clit before his tongue pressed to her folds. no sooner had he slid his tongue between her lips did he groan, happy to be home in a sense. and then he went to work.

imani couldn't believe how gone she allowed herself to be for jameson. the woman she was a few months ago would be sickened to see her writhing across a bed, doing his bidding. that thought should have been enough to make her push him away but they were silenced with the kiss to her clit. her back arched, the shock of pleasure bringing a cry from her lips.

the only thing that stopped her from pulling at those big ass ears to stop him and demand he fuck her right then was the fact that he owed her. for every moment he pissed her off or disappointed her, he owed her this pleasure as recompense.

he unwound one arm from around her leg -- pressing his fingers into her. imani lifted his head to watch as her pussy enveloped his digits, pulling and squeezing. he pressed his fingers deeper, harder -- wanting to see how she would react. eventually, he settled into a familiar rhythm. his index and middle finger delving deeply into her, his thumb lazily teasing against her ass. jameson leaned in again, closing his mouth over her clit as he ran his tongue back and forth...back and forth, timing the movement with that of his thumb. he kept it up until arousal soaked his tongue and knew he swallowed it down with glee because he groaned every single time.

her senses were already overloaded. She didn't like the power that jameson had over her. from his slightest touch, she was putty in his hands. "fuck, jameson." she whimpered. her hands palmed the back of his head, fingertips clinging to his braids, pussy grinding against his face. she wasn't going to last long and she hated that. hated him for it. "baby, wait." it hit her like a cramp to the stomach and imani jackknifed up from the bed, one hand pressed to the bed behind her to keep her upright. "i'ma cum, baby." she whimpered. before he could do anything else, her body jerked and her eyes shut close tightly.

she had prepared for him to be right where he was for a while. but it was going to be over before she knew it. jameson picked up his pace and added another finger, at her confession. she was sure he didn't even need the warning but even with her eyes closed, she could feel him watching her -- pleasure written all over her face. "let me see." he urged her own. "give me my shit."

her body jerked and imani felt him slow down. three fingers pressed into her, a thumb pressed to her clit, and another one teasing at her ass -- it was too much. her legs shut tightly over his hands as he pulled the orgasm free. it hit her hard enough to make her thigh shake. imani thrust herself against his fingers, praying he wouldn't stop. and he didn't. as much as she wanted, he gave it to her. she was breathless by the time her hips stopped arching up, begging for more.

only when she came down did she realize he was speaking to her.

"i missed my greedy pussy." "get what you want, baby. take it." "you better keep this energy the same when i get up."

every word brought a moan from her lips and jolt from her hips. imani watched as he pulled his hands free, sucked on his fingers, and stood from the bed. the two didn't exchange a word as she watched him undress. first went his shirt and then his sweatpants. she hadn't even noticed when he took his damn shoes off. his boxers followed next and...behold. a thing of fucking beauty. his dick bobbed freely, fully erect, and she had the urge to taste him. she wanted him sliding between her lips and down her throat the way he used to but she didn't move. she only watched him climb back onto the bed and settled between her legs. then he hesitated.

"fuck." jameson muttered, "baby...i didn't bring shit with me." he told her quietly. imani genuinely felt fear in the moment. fear he would pull away and get up. she wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him from pulling away even as he continued speaking. "please tell me you have a couple here." imani parted her legs wider, pouting up at him. "you really didn't bring anything?" she repeated, still not processing it. jameson shook his head, his hands pressed to her hips as he kissed her neck and mumbled his apologies. in the moment, she really didn't give a fuck. "it's okay." she whispered. her hand slipped between them and wrapped her hands around his dick. she moved her hips forward to slowly guide him inside of her. she would think about the consequences later. all she knew was that she wanted him NOW.

jameson knew how these things went with imani. they always ended up here one way or another. he cursed himself for not bringing protection. but it didn't matter — they were both desperate for one another. he froze when she reached for him, his breath trapped in his throat at the feel of her hand. he only exhaled sharply when she widened her legs and pressed him inside.

the last time they had sex without protection had been when they were together. now, they were...well, complicated. but he couldn't deny that it felt right. it's why he didn't pull away. "you sure?" he asked her, lust making his speech slurred. even before she nodded her head, he gave a short, gentle thrust — enveloping himself in her entirely. "oh my god -- you feel so good, daddy." she whispered against his ear. "i'm daddy already? i like hearing my baby say that."

their eyes met as he eased deeper into her. imani's hands found his back and jameson fought off a smile as she replied to him. "you never stopped being daddy." she said lowly. He was incomparable to anyone else. despite what happened between them, she still could acknowledge that he was the only one that could make her feel like this. imani sealed their fate when she arched her back, lifted her hips, and told him that she needed him. jameson wanted to be wanted. he wanted to be needed. and he could tell from the sound of her voice that she meant it -- she didn't just want to get off, she meant it. she needed him.

jameson moved his hand from her hips to the small of her back, keeping her hips lifted and pressed against his own. he tested their position -- slowly pulling out. his gaze dropped to watch the movement, a groan leaving his lips as he saw how she coated him in her arousal. as turned on as he was, he still found the time to joke. "don't come so fast this time.", he teased her, his hips moving forward to fill her again. "we're just getting started."

he laughed out loud when her blissed out face turned into a frown. she opened her mouth -- likely to tell him to shut the fuck up -- and he silenced her with a sharp thrust. any insult turned into a moan. "i'm playin, i'm playin." amusement filtering into his tone as he moved his hand from her hip, fingertips gliding down her leg to grasp her thigh. jameson shifted her leg around his waist, picking it up higher so it rested against his back as he slowly fucked her. once he got her leg readjusted, he ran his thumb against her lower lip, his eyes lowered to watch where they connected. "suck."

her brow was still furrowed as they rocked together. it was almost as if she was deciding if she wanted to curse him out but she opened her mouth and took his thumb between her lips. the more precise his movements, the harder it became for her to keep his thumb in her mouth. he didn't think it was possible but it felt like she became even wetter after his command. imani playfully swirled her tongue around his finger and jameson had to close his eyes for a brief second -- lust making his abdomen clench. "shit, mani. oh my -- fuck." jameson panted, slowly pulling his thumb from her mouth. he let it trail across her lower lip before leaning in to kiss her circle his tongue around a nipple. he pressed his body to hers, hips rocking as he wedged his hand between them.

the bedroom was bright and he could see everything -- a blessing, he figured. he dropped his head, looking between their bodies, and made sure he was pressing his wet thumb against her clit. jameson pressed gently, circling there with ease. he was multi-tasking pretty damn well. he could hear his thighs making contact with hers, the squelching between them as he drove himself deeply into her, sucking and gently biting at her nipple.

"jamie. oh baby..." imani hummed, unable to focus on anything besides the sound of her pussy loudly welcoming her lover home. he slid in and out with precision, angling his hips in the exact way to drive her crazy. her moans and screams accompanied the sound of her love. "you're gonna make me -- i'ma cum again." she whimpered, locking her legs around his thighs.

"this my pussy, ain't it?" imani nodded so fast that he was sure she'd cause a sprain in her neck. "then act like it. give me that shit." he knew she was reacting to what he was doing and saying but jameson could hardly hear imani. he was in his own little world, grazing his teeth against her nipple. he kept his thumb pressed to her clit as he kept up the pace of his hips. when he lifted his head, he found that he didn't have much of anything to say. he was in a daze. he heard himself moan, unashamed of the fact that she knew how far gone he was over her.

"i swear to god...i fucking love you." he muttered, eyes drifting closed as he quickly reached out for her leg, pulling it from around his waist to extend. he pressed it to his shoulder, both hands moving to her hips to pull her onto his length harder. all pretenses of taking things slow were out the window. he was fucking her now, his thumb shifting from pressing to quick circles against her clit. "ooh fuck! daddy, i love you too. i swear." she panted.

he could feel her fighting it. she fluttered over him, shaking in his grasp. she didn't want to make this as easy as the first orgasm she experienced but jameson didn't have a problem working for it. her body shifted again with her leg on his shoulder. He picked up his pace and the speed of his thumb. "sh-iiii-t, fuck me daddy. just like that!" imani clawed at his back and tightened her walls around him. her hands grasp at his ass, firm and full in her hands.

he liked the way she called out for him. but he liked the way she told him she loved him. the words had an effect on him. he grunted, gritting his teeth as he tried to rein himself in. it sent chills up his spine and he couldn't shake the desire to hear the words again. jameson slowed down when he should have kept the same pace. "like that?" he asked imani, his hand slowly moving from between her legs and up her abdomen. "yes! yes b-baby." she stuttered. her hands left his body and found the sheets, gripping them tightly as she blinked up at him. it was like she couldn't ground herself no matter what she held on to. good. he didn't want her sane at all. jameson could tell that she wouldn't last much longer.

his other hand caressed her calf, his head turning to press kisses to her leg. he moved slowly, twisting his hips and biting back another moan. it's even better than what he was doing before. how the fuck could she do that without even trying? she made his head spin half the fucking time and he was still in awe of her. "tell me you love me again." he asked her quietly.

she didn't even hesitate to repeat it. "i love you, baby." mani hissed. "i love you so fuckin' much." her eyes shut and she seized so hard that it was almost as if her body froze. she didn't get to warn him that time. her back arched and her eyes fluttered shut. he could feel her holding her breath. he didn't slack up, lifting his hand to slap down against her clit. her body flinched but still, she didn't release her breath. jameson dropped her her leg from his shoulder to give her a moment of rest. "breathe, mani." he commanded. no sooner than he spoke did he feel her let go. she inhaled sharply, whimpering and moaning out as she did so. nobody could tell him this woman didn't belong to him. the evidence was in the way she let him have his way and her essence covering both their thighs.

she moaned and convulsed around him, wringing a groan from his throat. jameson lowered his body to hers, kissing imani deeply. his tongue slipping between her lips as she clung to him. it was his turn to collapse under the pressure of pleasure. "how you want me, baby?" he asked her between kisses, his release nearing the more he pressed into her. she shook her head as if she didn't understand him and jameson held off with a grunt. "where you want this nut, mani? tell daddy." he was asking for permission and holding off until he got it. even if it killed him.

her voice got caught in her throat and finally, she managed to croak out a response. "inside." one word, the last word she should have said to him. they both knew that. she soaked his dick, the wet spot under them expanding each time he pressed into her. it practically spurted from her. she was spent, he knew she had very little left to give him so now it was time for her to take.

her hands lifted to frame his face, her lips pressed to his cheek, and jameson allowed himself to relax into her. he felt the thrill of lust race down his spine, pulling back only to bury his face in the crook of her neck. he thrust into her roughly, his body losing the sensuous sense of coordination he'd used to get her off. there was no focus or gameplan, desire was driving him now.

he whispered words against her neck, mindless praise about how good she felt. how beautiful she was. how much he loved her. he whispered until the words turned into moans. his hips shuddered and then he came. one hand against her hip, the other over her head -- clenched around the sheets. jameson sagged against her, pressing kisses to imani's shoulder as his hand caressed her hip.

post-nut clarity was a bitch. she had given the man permission to do what he wanted with her body and only now -- when he sagged against her -- did it hit her. her unfaithful, untrustworthy ex had come into her home, hit her with some bullshit about love, and she fell on top of his dick. he breathed heavily against her skin, sleepily pressing kisses to her neck. as much as he pissed her off, she ran her hand up and down his back on instinct. "i really do love you." she heard him say.

despite the fact that they exchanged 'i love you' several times while fucking, it took coming on his dick a few times to remember that she didn't believe him anymore. "mhm." she hummed, patting his shoulder. "i gotta clean up." jameson took the hint and pulled out, surprising imani when he placed his hand against her abdomen. "stay here. i got it." she was silent as he left the room, not even watching his ass as he walked away. she was disappointed in herself. even though her thighs and pussy ached, her clit practically tingled, and her eyes felt heavy with exhaustion -- was it worth going on this damn rollercoaster with jameson again?

he returned to the room with a wet towel. neither of them said a word as he went through the motions of cleaning between her thighs. he even rolled her out of the wet spot that she had been unable to escape. she expected him to take the same care with himself but he didn't. once he was done with the towel, he tossed it aside. the air between them had changed. she could feel it and knew he did too.

"mani." "get out." "...baby, we don't have to do it like that. we can start over." "i don't want to start over with you. i wanted to cum and i did that. so now you can get the fuck out of my house."

imani watched the words impact him and knew he was trying to decide if he believed her or not. she slowly sat up, hating that her body still trembled while she was trying to be strong. "get out, jameson." part of her was pleased that he seemed to give up in the moment. she watched him redress mournfully. they didn't trade words. he was fully dressed and she still sat on the bed, undressed.

"i'll call you." "don't bother."

despite the heat in her words, jameson still leaned in to kiss her. she let him do so, telling herself it was easier than to shove him away. when he finally turned to leave the room, imani let her mask slip. she fell back onto the bed, breath shuddering. she had done the right thing. fucking him was a mistake but she could bounce back. she didn't have to let him back into her life anymore. that chapter of her life was over.

We hope you guys like the start of Neon Lights. If not, please keep it to yourself. No, I'm kidding. Constructive criticism is very welcome!

[bellaveux]

hi! could you please do one about reader x wanda on college where reader cheats on her boyfriend with wanda but wanda genuinely loves reader so much that she can’t help but want more?

DREAMING OF YOU | wanda maximoff x reader

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: angst w/ happy ending, fluff, smut

summary: while being constantly ignored by your boyfriend, wanda decides to keep you company for the night and eventually, for the rest of the weeks that follow, wanting more than just sex with you and vows to show you the kind of love you truly deserve.

content warnings: minors dni! angst with happy ending, some fluff, college au!wanda maximoff x reader, artist!reader, wanda is in love, cheating, mentions of drinking, toxic boyfriend named tyler bc i didn’t know what else to name him, one smut scene; top!wanda, bottom!reader, oral and fingering (r receiving), praise kink

word count: 12.9k

note: i’m so sorry for the long wait, it was not supposed to take a whole month for me to write :( i also did not mean for this to be so long, i kind of got carried away, but i hope you like it!!

There used to be a time when your boyfriend would always tell you that he loved you, no matter what the conversation or situation was. You would always ask him why he did certain things for you; give you flowers, take you out to dinner, wanting to do everything with you, or even things like fight with you, annoy you. He would always say ‘Because, I love you,’ no matter what. And, you missed those times. You missed when he felt like he was a part of you when you were his top priority as he was yours. Now, somewhere down the road, you lost all of that with him. He only has the time to take you to parties, as a sort of accessory to keep by his side, then refuses to talk to you, and ignores you half of the time. 

You never liked the parties your boyfriend always dragged you to. They were loud, too crowded for your taste and your boyfriend always ended up finding some kind of excuse to leave you alone all by yourself as he mingled around. You feel lost and disconnected in places like this while your boyfriend revels in the chaos of social interactions, all while seemingly drowning himself in beer and alcohol. 

Your likeness for him had slowly dwindled down over time, and you wondered what had happened between the two of you for him to change so much from the man you used to be so fond of. 

And, no, Tyler didn’t always use to be such a jerk to you. In the beginning, he was kind, and gentle and seemed to be interested in whatever you were interested in. He was the kind to buy you flowers when he would think of you, take you on romantic dates in the city, and tell you he loved you every day. You liked him in the beginning, maybe even fell in love with him at some point—well, you couldn’t remember what that felt like with him anymore. 

Now, he barely even replies to your texts, answers your calls, ignores you when you try to talk to him, and leaves you alone at a party full of people you don’t recognize, just for him to go and play beer pong and chug an unhealthy amount of beer with the other guys on the football team. He even lets these random girls feel up on him and openly flirt with him from time to time now, forgetting all about the girl he dragged along with him, who was now glaring at him from across the room. He doesn’t even do anything to stop them, which only fuels your anger even more. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to him being this way. This behavior had gotten quite frequent as time went on, and you’ve always thought about breaking up with him. But, each time, he’d fool you with those sweet words and apologies, and tell you he’d be good for you, do better for you, tell you he loved you, and tell you that he wouldn’t know what to do without you. 

And, for some reason, you always fell for it.

You don’t know if it’s because you so desperately want to cling to the past — the past that you remember being so good and lovely. The times when he treated you right was like a dream and you always wanted to believe it could be that way again. Somehow. Because, you liked him. At least, you did then. It was hard to know because everything felt awkward, everything felt insincere. You knew that when the next morning comes, he’ll buy you flowers once again, tell you how sorry he was for accidentally leaving you, and give you that lame excuse that he couldn’t find you in that crowd of people. 

“I wanna leave, Tyler,” you told him, after tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to you and glared, stepping away from the circle of people that wrapped around the beer pong table, “Are you fucking kidding me? We just got here. Fuck. Go find something to do. I’ll take you home later.”

Truthfully, you were over it. You didn’t even bother talking back about it anyway, having done so plenty of times already and it always had the same outcome. 

After a while, you found yourself in the kitchen of the sorority house, holding your third cup of some cheap alcohol you found and poured for yourself, not really sure of what else you could do but drink. The living room had that lingering smell of weed and warm bodies, and it was beginning to hurt your head the longer you stood in there, making you retreat to the back of the house where the kitchen was. The fresh smell of some brownies in the oven filled the air, and it was much better for your head than everything else outside of this room. They were probably weed brownies, but they smelled better than what was out there. 

The thought of leaving by yourself had crossed your mind several times already, wondering if your boyfriend would even notice if you’d be gone. Who are you kidding? He wouldn’t. You liked to think he would sometimes—that he’d rush right after you when you stepped out the door, grab you by the wrist, and ask where you were going without him as if he cared. But, that would’ve been too good to be true. 

And, you were too caught up in your thoughts to have noticed the figure that walked up next to you.

Wanda leaned over against the counter, standing quite close to you, nudging your shoulder lightly. You could smell that faint scent of alcohol from her lips even though she hadn’t spoken yet. She wore a big suit jacket over a plain shirt that fit loosely on her and held a red solo cup of her own, shaking it slightly as if she was checking if there was anything still in there like she couldn’t remember if she had drank what was in her cup yet. 

Wanda saw you the moment you stepped into the sorority house, always cautiously watching the door for whoever walked in. After all, she lived here. She practically had her eyes on you all night, first noticing that bored look on your face when you walked in with that jerk you called your boyfriend. Then, she saw the rising anger fuming in your eyes when he walked away and left you alone to go hang out with his friends and other girls that he didn’t seem to mind. 

She never really understood what you saw in him. From all of the stories she’s heard from mutual friends to what she has seen now, he was a complete asshole. Sure, when she met you for the first time, you were a happy couple, and he was good to you that time ago. But tonight, it was different. He was different to you and it only seemed to further her opinion of him. 

It was maddening—the way he treated you. Wanda always found herself caught in a bittersweet daydream, one where she yearned to trade places with him, to be the one who could treat you with the love and care you truly deserved.

She had always loved you. From the moment you two met in your first year of college, Wanda had always loved you. With every interaction, every shared laugh, and every stolen glance, her feelings for you only deepened, growing into an unshakeable love that blossomed silently within her. You were perfect in her eyes; you were beautiful, kind-hearted, and talented, but you failed to recognize the fact that you deserved way better than what that stupid boyfriend of yours does for you. The love Wanda held for you became a quiet force that fueled her determination to be there for you, to support you, even if it meant remaining in the shadows.

And, deep down, you’ve feel as if you had always felt it. That love she had for you. You felt it when she would look at you, when she talked to you, and at first, you couldn’t tell what it was. She was a private woman, always so reserved, and never really dated properly within her time in college, other than a few flings and hookups here and there. 

But you saw it firsthand each time she smiled at you. 

Undeterred, Wanda angled her body towards you, the corners of her mouth turning upward in a determined smile. She positioned herself delicately, her face mere inches away from yours, so that you could hear her easily under the booming music, “What are you doing here alone?” 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, taking a sip from your cup, not even bothering to look up at her. “Just felt too crowded in there.”

Wanda nodded and glanced out of the doorway, the first floor of the house practically flooding with people left and right. She noticed that solemn look on your face when you answered your question.

“Isn’t that Tyler outside?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. She watched you nod, your eyes staring down into the liquid in your cup.“Shouldn’t you be out there with him?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you sighed and shook your head, “No, he’s… He’s playing. I wouldn’t be much help… It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Wanda countered, the levels of her own annoyance rising. “He’s being a shitty boyfriend.”

You didn’t say anything else and instead chewed on your bottom lip as you let her words sink in. He was, indeed, a shitty boyfriend, but hearing it out of someone else’s mouth felt bitter. Like you had to defend him in some way even though he treats you like shit. You knew that Wanda's assessment held a grain of truth, maybe a lot more than a grain, but your heart stubbornly clung to the remnants of love and loyalty you still felt for him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, it’s fine,” you tell her, immediately shaking your head as you glance out of the kitchen window, seeing your boyfriend down his drink in the backyard. “He’s just… busy.”

Wanda glanced out the window once more, eyes landing on your boyfriend. He was cheering, having won the same stupid game he was playing since he got here for the third time already, and he was probably drunk out of his mind right now, clearly not caring about the woman he had brought along with him. That woman being you. 

And she could never understand it. 

Wanda turned away and looked over at you. You stared down at your shoes out of boredom, seemingly waiting for something to happen at least. You wondered when your boyfriend would notice the fact that you’re even still here, waiting for the past hour and a half for him. But, every time you looked at him, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?” Wanda leaned over and asked, scratching the back of her neck. “There’s less people upstairs… And it’s quiet in my room.”

Wanda didn’t know if it was the tiny bit of alcohol she had talking for her, but she couldn’t help but ask—not when someone as beautiful as you stood alone in her kitchen. 

“Your room?”

You took a moment to look past her shoulder again and over to the man you called your boyfriend, only to see him cheering on in front of the beer pong table with some other woman leaning close to him on his side. A sigh fell past your lips before turning back to look at Wanda. 

As your gaze shifted from the window to meet Wanda's eyes, a sudden hush fell upon you. Your heart skipped a beat as you found yourself caught in the vortex of an unwavering stare, one filled with undeniable affection. She was looking at you the entire time. She looked at you like you were the only one there—as if every person, every object, every sound had faded into the background, leaving only the two of you inside this house. An unexpected wave of shyness washed over you, a blush creeping up your cheeks, wondering about what you should say next. 

The gravity of Wanda's invitation to her room weighed heavily upon your conscience, knowing that accepting would lead you down an unfaithful path. A sense of moral obligation tugged at your heart, reminding her of the commitment you made to your boyfriend, who had now abandoned you once again. The knowledge weighed heavily on your heart, like an anchor that tugged at your sense of loyalty. You knew the dangerous allure that waited for you in her room. You very well understood the consequences, and how your heart might sway towards infidelity if you surrendered yourself completely to Wanda. 

With each passing second, your internal struggle intensified. But, why were you so worried about loyalty when the man you once loved seemed to have none for you? You recognized the injustice of your situation, feeling a bitter taste of resentment rise within you as you thought of your boyfriend's indiscretions, allowing himself to be swayed by the company of random women at a party. It was a betrayal in its own right—a crack in the foundation of your relationship.

You decided you didn’t want to see him anymore tonight. And Wanda had the power to do that for you. 

“Lead the way,” you said.

The woman’s eyes before you lit up at the sound of your words and with a tender smile, Wanda reached out, her hand extending towards you, a silent invitation for her to take you away from everything that worried you. You slipped your hand into hers, and with a gentle yet steady grip, her fingers interlaced with yours, beginning to pull you away and up the stairs. 

Wanda maneuvered through the crowd, sidestepping intoxicated individuals who seemed oblivious to the world beyond their own indulgence. Laughter and music washed over you as you reached the second floor and down the hall toward Wanda’s room. 

Your senses heightened as Wanda let you step into her private space, and you found herself instinctively pausing to take in your surroundings. Wanda made sure to not let your hand go, her thumb soothing over the back of your hand as you looked around. She stepped up behind you, gently resting her other hand on your hip as she pressed her front to your back softly. Your eyes swept across the room, drinking in the carefully curated collection of treasures that adorned each shelf and corner. The gentle hum of the music playing downstairs was muffled by the thick walls of Wanda’s room.

“Do you play?” You ask, eyes settling up the guitar by the side of her nightstand.

“Hmm, a bit,” she smiled as you raised your eyebrows, impressed at the fact. “I can show you any time you want. I can teach you.”

Her fingers brushed along the side of your waist, dancing along the fabric of your dress slightly as if she were forming guitar chords. Eventually, you let Wanda’s hands turn you around to face her, the soft scent of lavender filling the air as she leaned into you. 

“You look so pretty tonight, (Y/n),” she whispered, shamelessly staring at your lips.

Her gaze shifted from your mouth and into your eyes, and there you saw the gentle look she held solely for you. Wanda gently lifted the hand she held, guiding your fingertips to her lips, pressing light kisses against your knuckles. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“You already are,” you told her, the corners of your lips threatening to curve upwards.

Wanda smiled in return and brought her other hand up from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek and letting her thumb ghost over your bottom lip, “I mean… here.”

Her fingers trailed down to your jaw, “And right here.” To your neck, “And here.” Then, to your collarbone, “And… here.”

You sighed at the feeling of her feathery touches, closing your eyes as you relaxed in her hands. 

“Can I?” She repeated.

And for a moment, you took a second to look at the moment before you, your cheeks getting warm from Wanda’s actions. The warmth of her breath mingled with the sweet touch of her lips against your fingertips as she waited patiently for your answer for the second time tonight. As the words hung in the air, Wanda's gaze remained fixed on you, captivated by the emotions flickering across your face. In that moment, you appeared more enchanting to her than ever, having you so close to her for the first time, wanting to kiss those lips she’d been dreaming about for so long. 

“Yes, please,” you said. 

Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you, and softly pressed her lips against yours as she moaned. Every brush and hum of your lips sent shivers down Wanda's spine. Time became a distant concept as you lost yourself in her kisses. 

She slowly led you towards her bed, lips still pressed to yours. She had waited, with hope and uncertainty, for this moment to come. And finally, it was here. She’d show you. She’d show you how well she’d take care of you—how much better she could be than that boyfriend of yours. She’d give you everything you deserve. She’d prove it to you—change your mind, if possible, and have her be the only one to have and love you from now on.

Wanda pulled back after laying you down on her bed, staring down at you. She settled herself in between your legs and sighed at the feeling of your soft thighs under her hands. The sight of lips parting to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down, and your hair all over her pillows drove her crazy. Fuck. 

“Are you sure about this?” Wanda asked.

“Please.” You nodded, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeezing them, “I want you, Wanda.”

Once she was positive that you were positive, Wanda pulled her shirt over off, shuffled closer to you, and gently brought your hands up above your head. She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against your lips once more before traveling down to litter soft kisses against your jaw and your neck. Her body hovered over yours as you squirmed underneath her touches, whining slightly as she sucked on your skin. 

“Wait, Wanda,” you called out and she immediately stopped to look at you, patiently waiting for whatever you had to say. “Don’t leave any marks.” 

Wanda blinked, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her chest. She was excited to mark you, litter hickeys all over your skin as a reminder that you were hers for the night. 

But she only bit her lip and nodded in return, “I won’t.”

After a beat, Wanda started kissing you once again. This time, her hands traveled downwards, running them along your thighs and up to where they met the hem of your velvety dress. She pushed the fabric upwards, your skin meeting the cold air inch by inch. Wanda was quick to provide warmth, squeezing the softness of your push thighs. 

Her kisses eventually made their way down to the valley of your breasts, letting one of her hands grope your tits. Wanda groaned into your body as you let your hands run through her red hair, tugging at them slightly when she squeezed your tit with her palms. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered against you.

Getting to worship you like this, manifesting your true desires to her, and her alone, felt like a constant dream. She had always imagined what it would be like to see you like this; a hot mess underneath her, moaning for her to touch you. And now that it was here, she never wanted to let it go. 

She’d imagine all the ways, all the positions she’d take you in, and make sure to take good care of you both always. She couldn’t wait to make you feel good. God, it was driving her insane. She couldn’t wait to have you. She wanted to make you see how much better she would be for you. And if there was one thing she wanted more than this; it was time. She wanted this to last forever. She wanted to eliminate all of the chances that could make you slip away from her grasp. 

But you were here now, and she vowed to make it the best you’ve had with the time she was dealt with. 

Her hands squeezed your thighs slightly as she stared down, “Spread those legs for me, sweetheart?” 

Wanda kneeled and leaned down the moment your knees parted, the sight of your drenched laced panties coming into view from underneath your dress. Without a second thought, Wanda pressed the pads of her index and middle finger against the soaked fabric. With half-lidded eyes, she couldn’t help but lean down, pressing her nose against your clothed pussy.

“How are you this perfect?” Wanda sighed against your cunt, her fingers moving the fabric to the side to look at your wetness. 

“Wanda…”

She looked up from in between your legs and licked her lips eagerly, “Yes, baby?”

“Hurry, please,” you whined. You couldn’t wait anymore. “I need you.”

Wanda felt her knees go weak when she heard those words. The sound of your voice, her name coming from your mouth, your hands in her hair… It was all too, perfect—you were so perfect.

After moments of admiring the sight of you in her bed, Wanda finally hooked her thumbs under your panties and dragged them slowly down your legs, making sure you were watching as she did so. The moment they came off, Wanda dove head first in between your legs, dragging the flat of her tongue through your folds. Firm and long licks switched into quick, fast kitten licks against your clit that had your thighs shaking around her head in a matter of seconds. You threaded your hands into her hair, moaning at the suddenness of her attack against your cunt. You dripped your sweet juices onto her tongue, causing her to moan softly against your clit, sending vibrations through your body. 

“Tastes so fucking good, baby.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wanda rolled her eyes to the back of her head, the taste of heaven filling her mouth. She moaned, lips and chin covered in her spit and your slick as she continued to eat you out. 

“Wanda!” You whined as she wrapped her mouth around your clit and sucked. 

The sight of your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she introduced her fingers into the mix was something she wanted to see over and over and over again. She carefully prodded your entrance with her middle finger, sucking onto your clit gently, teasing you by slipping barely an inch into you then pulling back out to rub you softly. As she did so, she could feel your hips buck and your legs tense up around her head as she hummed against your clit with a smile on her face. 

You were soaking wet, dripping your juices all over the covers of her bed. Carefully, she slipped a single finger into you all the way down to her knuckle. She then curled it, emitting the loudest whine you let out for her tonight. She continued to curl her finger over and over, occasionally giving your clit some attention, sucking slightly and licking it gently as your orgasm started to build. 

“Mmmph, fuck, Wanda, I—"

Her green eyes watched as you withered against her bed, because of her mouth, to taste you like this, and hear your delicious moans fall past your lips. She slipped a second finger into you, your velvety walls wrapping around her digits, coating them with your slick as you moaned into her pillow and pulled at the sheets. 

“That’s it, (Y/n),” she stared up in awe as she watched your head fall back into the pillow, moaning at the feeling of her digits moving inside of your pussy. “Keep on making those noises for me, beautiful.”

Her two fingers that were swallowed inside your warmth began to speed up the moment she wrapped her lips around your clit once more, and sucked as hard as she could. You screamed into her pillow, trying to close your legs shut, engulfing her head with your plush thighs. Wanda decided that this was the best way to go; suffocating between your legs with the taste of your juices on her tongue. 

Soon, your voice faded out and your moans became more like gasps and hiccups for air. Wanda closed her eyes, her mouth pulling away to move up your body, resting her lips against your neck as her breath fans across your skin. You whined and clawed at her back deliciously as Wanda pumped and pumped her fingers in and out of you at a faster pace. She could hear all of your juices squelching down there because of her fingers and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes back and moan at the sounds filling her room. She felt as if she was in heaven. 

Wanda’s eyes, her pupils blown out from lust and darkened in desire didn’t help either, as the wetness between your legs only seemed to pool more and more as she fucked into you.

“I’m gonna cum, Wanda—“

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” She whispered in your ear, grunting against the side of your face as she pumped into you harder with her thumb pressing harshly in circles against your clit. 

Your orgasm hit hard, a sharp cry coming from your throat as you came, arching your back as Wanda slowed her movements. The sound of your cry sent shock waves straight down to her own core, and her eagerness to move inside of you, pressing against that spot in your pussy caused you to gasp and cry out again, shaking violently as you came around her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda groaned against your neck, breathing heavily against you as you trembled in her bed. God, she wished she could make love to you forever. 

And knowing that she couldn’t, Wanda made use of the time she had left for the rest of the night and fucked you for as time would allow her until the two of you grew tired and passed out on her bed. 

Wanda held you close, pulling her blankets over you, naked bodies pressed together as you slept for the rest of the night. She savored the precious moments the two of you shared, knowing that her time with you was fleeting and she might not get a chance as good as this. She took some time to watch as you slept for a bit, her heart swelling with the feeling of you against her. It felt perfect, like you were made to fit right into her arms. 

But a bittersweet reality loomed over Wanda's thoughts, a reminder that you belonged to another, your heart already spoken for by a distant boyfriend. The one person she envied, deeming him unworthy of your love. She wondered what it would be like to claim the entirety of your heart, to be the one who could provide solace and security for you in every waking moment, and not just for tonight. 

Wanda's eyes traced the delicate curve of your cheek, her fingertips brushing against the soft strands of your hair. With a tender touch, she brushed her lips against your forehead, pressing a small kiss on your skin before falling asleep herself, while listening to the soft sound of your breathing. 

She wished that this was forever. And she wished you wanted her the same way she wanted you. 

A soft rustling sound reached Wanda’s ears, like the delicate whisper of fabric against fabric. Fluttering her eyes open slowly, Wanda could feel the subtle shift of the mattress, the gentle weight redistribution that accompanied your movement. Through half-closed eyes, Wanda's gaze settled upon your silhouette as you leaned down to pick your clothes up. You were in nothing but your underwear and you sat there for a second to look down at your phone, the glow of the screen casting gently upon your face. 

“Hey,” Wanda whispered softly, propping herself up on one of her elbows, eyes still struggling to keep open.

You looked up in surprise, turning to see her rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, “Hey…”

“What’re you…” Wanda yawned and ran a hand through her hair. “What’re you doing? Are you leaving?”

There was a slight pout on her lips that you didn’t fail to notice. You watched her eyes lazily dart to the digital clock on her nightstand, furrowing her eyebrows slightly before turning her drowsy gaze away to look at you again.

“It’s six in the morning… on a Saturday,” she said as if it was obvious. 

“I know,” you nodded and looked down at your phone, the screen completely filled with texts and missed calls from that boyfriend of yours. “I just… I think I should really get going, Wanda.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Oh.”

Wanda sighed and sat up properly, grabbing her shirt from the floor to put on. A very big part of her wanted to ask you to stay, over and over again, so that she could wrap her arms around you, underneath the covers, have you lay your head on her chest, and sleep peacefully with you for as long as she could. 

But there was a slim chance you’d take that offer.

“I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, fixing your dress as you stood up from her bed. “I really don’t live that far.”

Truthfully, you did live quite a few ways away, but you wanted to sort out everything that was running through your head, and the time it would take to walk to your apartment might just let you do that. 

Wanda bit her lip, wondering if she had done something wrong. She thought that maybe you were regretting the night before, thinking that one of the best nights she’s ever lived through was possibly a mistake in your eyes. 

She hoped you didn’t think that. 

“Are you sure?” Wanda grabbed her keys from her desk, just in case you change your mind. “I’m not tired.”

“I’m positive, Wanda,” you smiled lightly, knowing very well she wanted to back to sleep. “It’s okay.”

As you gathered your belongings, your movements deliberate yet tinged with a touch of haste, Wanda's gaze lingered upon you, committing every detail to memory. The way your fingers deftly secured a strand of hair behind your ear, the determined set of your jaw as you walked towards the door, the fleeting glances you stole in Wanda's direction—each moment etched itself in Wanda’s mind. 

Time seemed to stretch as Wanda observed your preparations, each passing second amplifying the ache within her. She longed to reach out, to intertwine her fingers with yours and convince you to stay for a little while longer. 

But the choice, ultimately, rested with you, and Wanda knew that she had to honor that.

“Wait,” she called out suddenly, her tone infused with a soft concern that you couldn't ignore, just as you had placed a hand on the doorknob. “One second.”

You watched her step away, rushing over to her closet near the corner of her room, then pulling out some brown jacket. With a tender smile, Wanda approached you, her hands enveloped in the folds of her own jacket.

"Here," Wanda murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she offered the jacket to you. "It's probably cold out there." 

There was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hidden message that spoke of the lengths she would go to protect and care for you, even in the smallest ways. Your eyes widened slightly, surprised yet touched by Wanda's gesture. A myriad of emotions flickered across your face—gratitude, a touch of longing, and a hint of reluctance. You hesitated for a moment, torn between accepting Wanda's offering and the weight of your own conflicted feelings.

“If you’re not going to let me drive you… at least take this,” Wanda said, sensing your inner struggle. “You can return it whenever. Or don’t. Whichever is fine.”

Your hand trembled ever so slightly as you reached out and accepted the jacket. The fabric felt warm and comforting against your skin, as though it held a piece of Wanda's essence within its fibers.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of gratitude and unspoken emotions. 

Wanda watched as you slipped into her jacket carefully, letting it fall gracefully upon your shoulders. It was a tad bit loose on you, and Wanda only found it adorable, nonetheless. It was her first time seeing you in one of her clothes and she had to bite back that smile that was threatening to show on her face. With a gentle touch, Wanda adjusted the collar of the jacket, ensuring it provided the utmost comfort and warmth for you. 

You left soon after, leaving Wanda alone in the silence of her room. 

The crisp air brushed against your cheeks, its touch a gentle reminder of the outside world. After walking out of the neighborhood, the city streets unfolded before you as you ventured forth, enveloped in Wanda's jacket. It was warm, you thought, like her. Wanda was warm. You felt her warmth the night before as she held you delicately like she was afraid of breaking you. 

The weight of your actions pressed upon you, the guilt of infidelity intertwining with the intoxicating sensations that Wanda had awakened within you. Thoughts of your boyfriend, once a source of comfort and affection, mingled with memories of last night.

As you walked, the city whispered its secrets. The laughter of strangers, the busy morning road full of people heading into work in the early morning, the flickering lights of cafes and bars, and the intertwining streets became a chorus of reflections, mirroring the complexity of your emotions. 

You wondered what your boyfriend was up to now, probably sleeping, and if he even thought of the possibility of you cheating on him. Would he even care at this point? You had always been a loyal girlfriend before your relationship had started crumbling, always being there for him as much as you could, trying to make him happy, just as he did for you. But, now, everything seemed to be thrown away, and it was like you didn’t even know him anymore. 

Instead, you let your thoughts shift to Wanda—sweet and gentle Wanda. You couldn’t help but compare your boyfriend to her. In the course of a single night, Wanda had unraveled layers within you that had remained untouched for so long.

As you finally reached your apartment, you stood before the threshold, your heart heavy with the weight of your choices. With a deep breath, you stepped inside, the door closing behind you. The echoes of the city receded, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echoes of conflicting emotions. You can’t help but think of the night before when Wanda showered you with that love and affection you’ve been craving. It was all you could think about. 

And in this moment, you felt that you missed Wanda more than you did your boyfriend. 

The entire month came around quickly, and the world around you sprang back to life, bustling with the rhythms of college life. The campus hummed with the energy of students making their way to their classes. As you made your way to the art building, you found yourself clutching a bouquet of vibrant flowers, another peace offering from your boyfriend, a gesture meant to make amends for doing something that hurt your feelings. Again. It was typical.

Yet, you didn’t feel anything as you looked at the flowers. The colors of the flowers seemed muted, the petals lacking the vibrancy that you craved. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, a sense of disconnection that overshadowed any gratitude you should have felt. You couldn't shake the nagging sensation that something essential was missing.

And Wanda felt the same thing, if not, more. God, she missed you the moment you slipped out of her arms that morning. Just the thought of you in her bed, moaning her name just like you did that night sent her into orbit. She wanted you all over again. She needed you. And she just couldn’t help herself. Not when she got the taste of what it would be like to have you in that way. You were addicting. She wanted more. So much more. 

So, then, it happened again. And again. And again.

For the past month, you’ve betrayed your boyfriend, seeking solace and love in the arms of Wanda. Every stolen moment, every secret rendezvous, ignited a passionate flame within you that you had never experienced before. She made love to you every week that passed. You’ve been having frequent late nights in Wanda's room, hidden within the walls of the sorority house. She made love to you every week that passed, stole you away from your classes to make out with you in secret, wanting to have her hands all over you as much as she could. A lot of the time, it would happen on nights when your boyfriend would drag you to another party and he was too caught up to notice that you’d disappear, stolen away by Wanda so that she could keep you all to herself. 

On one hand, you felt guilty. But on the other hand, your heart yearned for Wanda and her touches, her gentle words, and the way she looked at you. With Wanda, you felt seen, heard, and cherished in a way you had never experienced before.

As your mind wandered through the labyrinth of your thoughts, everything around you seemed to fade into a blur of colors and shapes. But just as you were lost in the depths of your reverie, a soft but distinct knock echoed through your ears, jolting your senses.

“What are you painting?”

You snapped out of your trance and took in your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, your art class, your final class of the day, had ended, and the studio was empty. Startled, your gaze shifted abruptly towards the door frame behind you, where a familiar figure stood, their presence bringing an instant surge of warmth to your heart. It was Wanda, the one who had occupied your thoughts so incessantly. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded. 

“What are you doing here?” You stood quickly, eyes flickering with a sense of surprise and worry.

“I missed you.”

You rushed out of your seat, quickly making your way over to where she stood. Wanda shifted under your gaze the moment you reached behind her to close the studio door before grabbing her arm and pulling her further into the room in case anyone saw her. Caught off guard by the sudden pull, Wanda stumbled slightly, her attention instantly captured by the sight of you.

You stood before her, clad in an artist's apron, tiny smudges of paint adorning your cheeks and hands. Your shirt, with its sleeves carefully folded, revealed glimpses of the same colors that lived on your canvas. And Wanda couldn’t help but smile at you.

“What are you smiling about?” You rolled your eyes, shyly tucking your hair behind your ear as you turned around to avoid her stare.

Wanda shook her head but kept the smile on her face, following closely behind you as you sat back down on the stool in front of your easel, “Nothing.”

“Seriously,” you say, rolling your eyes before picking the paintbrush up from your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Wanda struggled to find an excuse, “I was walking by and thought I’d come see you… just to see what you were up to.”

It wasn’t a total lie. But she missed you so much that she practically ran across the whole campus just to get to this building. And to be honest, she couldn't stop missing you if she tried. A month has passed since you left her bedroom that night, and the following weeks spent sneaking around with you almost felt both unsettling and heavenly to her—she had you, but at the same time, she didn’t. And, she hated it. 

In truth, Wanda's last class was located on the other side of the campus, far from the art studio. But the distance mattered little to her. She had to see you, and now that she did, fighting the urge to touch you was practically unbearable.

“I’m working on my final piece,” you told her, staring down at the palette box on the wooden table, using a palette knife to mix your oils. “It’s just some finishing touches. It won’t dry soon enough if I do a thicker layer… even though I should, but it has to be done by next Wednesday…”

You went on rambling quietly about what else you needed to do as if you were not only talking to her but also reminding yourself, which was cute, Wanda thought. She listened intently, slowly making her way closer behind you, peeking over your shoulder with a curious smile as her hand slowly rested against your hip. 

“What’s on Wednesday?” She asked, her front now pressed against your back as you continued to paint. 

Your breath hitched at the contact, but you made no move to back away. She was warm—and you learned that you loved that about her. You could feel her face next to yours, closely observing each stroke of your brush, watching how your fingers danced over the canvas.

“Well, it’s due Wednesday and there’s, uh,” you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling nervous and fuzzy in your chest knowing she was so close to you. “An exhibit. It’s on Friday, actually, but they need to finish preparing for it by Thursday. The art professors are choosing some students to showcase their portfolios at the museum down the road. It’s funded by the university.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “And you got chosen as one of the artists? Out the whole art department?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Don’t make it a big deal—“

“But it is a big deal!” Wanda turned her head to look at you, her eyes watching your features closely. “It’s amazing. Really.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched in your throat as you turned to face Wanda, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, causing you to pull your head back slightly. Your eyes widened, taking in the breathtaking proximity of your faces, your breaths mingling in the shared space in between. And you began to notice things you’ve never really taken the time to admire.

Wanda's bright green eyes, like emerald gems, sparkled with a mixture of affection and curiosity. The strands of her tousled red hair tumbled slightly, probably from wind from outside, framing her features with an effortless charm. You drank in the sight of Wanda, committing every line and curve to your memory.

“I think you’re amazing,” Wanda whispered, her eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips.

You watched her eyes as she did so, your cheeks flushing slightly—usually because of the fact that she always wanted to kiss you. 

Your voice trembled with a mix of uncertainty and longing as she began, “Wanda, wait… I don’t think we should—“

But before you could complete your sentence, Wanda tilted her head and closed the gap, her lips meeting yours in a gentle, yet fervent, kiss. Your initial protest was lost in the softness of Wanda's lips against your own as your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda's lips, warm and tender, spoke volumes of the love and adoration she held for you, and you couldn’t help but kiss her back. 

The kiss deepened, Wanda running her tongue along your bottom lip, wrapping her arms, and running her hands around your waist from behind you as you welcomed her into your mouth with a soft moan. She had been wanting to kiss you again since the last time she saw you, and now that it was finally here, it felt like a dream come true. 

You made out with Wanda until you felt like you were about to faint. You pulled away to catch your breath, keeping Wanda still by holding her shoulders in place as she continued to chase for your lips.

“Wanda,” you breathed, your mind filling itself with conflicting thoughts. 

“No one’s going to see,” she tried to reassure you, her lips brushing against yours.

“T-That’s not what I’m worried about,” A sigh falls from your mouth, turning your head away from her before she could lean back in.

Wanda's eyes tried to search yours, filled with a mixture of determination and longing, wanting nothing more than to press her lips against your mouth over and over again. Her voice trembled with a blend of frustration and vulnerability as she asked, “Then, what are you worried about?”

“I-I’ve been wanting to talk to you. This whole month with you… It’s been amazing. You’ve been perfect. Truly. But, I… I don’t know if this is a good idea… anymore… and I’m still with Tyler,” you finally let out, struggling to find the right words to say.

She paused, suddenly feeling tense after listening to you. 

“Then, break up with him,” she said softly, eyes gazing into yours, concentrating on what you had to say. 

“Wanda…”

“You said it’s been amazing. I don’t…” She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows for a split second. “I don’t understand why this isn’t a good idea anymore. I don’t understand why you won’t break up with him. Do you even still like him? Do you not like me?”

You stood from your seat and walked a couple of paces away from her. “Of course, I like you.”

Wanda clenched her jaw, watching you carefully as you ran your hand through your hair, “You know what I mean.”

And for a moment, you don’t answer. It wasn’t because you weren’t sure of what the answer was, it was because of how sure you were. Wanda had given you so much love in one month and within this hour than Tyler could’ve given you in the past year. You couldn’t love Wanda even if you were tired. 

You closed your eyes, and sighed, “I do, Wanda.”

“Then, why are you still with him?”

“I don’t—I don’t know…” You stammered, frustration washing over your entire face. “I-I’ve been with him for so long and I’ve seen all of the good and the bad and I just can’t stop thinking about things like… what if he changes? I want to believe that he can, and lying to him constantly is starting to take a toll on me.”

“How long are you going to hold on to that ‘what if’? Hm? It’s been a month and he still hasn’t done anything to make you happy! He’s not just going to change overnight and besides, you’ve been constantly trying to talk to him about what’s wrong or what’s bothering but he doesn’t even seem to care!” She yelled, shaking her head slightly, “And what if he never changes? What if he keeps treating you like this? What then?”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you listened to Wanda’s voice, tinged with a mixture of heartbreak and determination. Love, fear, loyalty, and doubt waged a fierce internal war within you. You knew deep down that Wanda was right, that your relationship with him was eroding your own happiness.

“Well, what are you asking me to do?” Wanda asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I-I don’t know—“

“If you’re going to ask me to just be friends with you, I’m not doing it,” she said, shaking her head, the thought of it waking her heart. “I can’t… I can’t just be friends with you.”

Your eyes softened at her words, “Wanda…”

“And, I know it’s scary. I know… It’s not going to be easy. I know you really liked him at some point back then, and that it’s hurting you that he’s like this,” Wanda said with a heavy heart as she watched the first of your tears run down your face. It tore her apart to be the one to make you cry, but she knew that you needed to hear it. “But, I really like you, too. And, I want to do things right with you. I want to take you out on dates and share the things I have with you. I want to kiss you. So many times. I want to worship you. I want to give you all the things you deserve. But, I don’t want to do any of that while you’re suffocating yourself in this relationship... You’re not happy with him, (Y/n). Not like you are with me.”

Your gaze faltered, torn between the love you felt for Wanda and the lingering ties that bound you to a toxic relationship. Fear and uncertainty swirled within you, clouding your judgment and eclipsing the clarity of your own desires. 

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows again, her gaze landing on the flowers on the table, “Are these from him?”

The fact that you don’t say anything else answers Wanda’s question. She nodded, pain filling her chest as she stared at your back. Feeling like you ripped her heart right out of her, jealousy filled her veins and she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door. 

“He’s a dick, (Y/n),” she started, halting in her tracks before she could walk out. “Love isn’t about hiding behind a bouquet of flowers to avoid talking to you. It’s not about waiting to see if things get better when all he does is give you a five-dollar bouquet as his way to apologize. He should be on his knees begging for your forgiveness. Because, if I were him, I’d do everything and anything to make sure you’re happy. I hope you know that.”

Then, she left.

You don’t see her for the next several days, not after that argument. She doesn’t text or call you and she doesn’t visit the art building anymore. 

Days turned into nights, and you found yourself anxiously waiting for a message, a call, or any form of contact from Wanda. But the silence remained unbroken, leaving you to question the depth of the chasm that had grown between you. Your heart longed for Wanda's presence, for the sound of her voice, and the comfort of her embrace. 

You replayed the argument over and over in your mind, dissecting every word exchanged and every emotion unleashed. You understood Wanda's frustration, her desire to be together with you, free from the toxicity that clung to your current relationship. And yet, fear had clouded your judgment, chaining you to a life that no longer brought you happiness. 

The nights turned into weeks, and your heart grew heavier with each passing moment. You yearned for the sound of Wanda's laughter, the warmth of her smile, and the unwavering support she had always offered for you. The absence of her presence was a constant reminder of the choice you had made and the potential consequences of that choice. Two weeks had passed since the argument, and the silence that lingered between the two of you weighed heavily on your spirit.

And soon, Friday came: the night of the exhibit. A mixture of excitement and nervousness coursed through your veins. The gallery buzzed with activity, the air thick with the scent of anticipation. Your artwork adorned the walls along with several other students, each stroke of your brush conveying emotions you had kept hidden for so long.

As the guests began to trickle in, your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of strangers. Each passing moment filled you with a sense of anticipation. You wondered if Wanda would come, and if she remembered it. The murmurs and laughter of the attendees swirled around you, blending into an indistinct background noise.

As the minutes ticked away, each second seemed to stretch into eternity. Your heart raced, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. And then, in the midst of your restless thoughts, about an hour into the exhibit, a figure appeared at the entrance of the gallery. Wanda's presence filled the room, her vibrant aura commanding attention.

You approached her, but you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of conflict etched upon her face. Wanda's eyes, usually filled with a gentle glow, held a mixture of hope and trepidation. It was clear that she had taken a risk by attending the exhibit, despite the wounds of your recent disagreement.

The room seemed to quiet around the two of you as you inched your way closer, as if the universe recognized the significance of this moment. Your heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and remorse, realizing the depth of Wanda's love and her willingness to be there for you, even when it felt like she hadn’t spoken to you in ages. 

Wordlessly, you stood beside Wanda, your shoulders almost touching, as you both gazed at the art that surrounded them. As the colors of your artwork danced across the gallery walls, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that perhaps forgiveness and second chances were possible. And standing beside her, Wanda silently promised to be there, ready to support and love you, no matter the outcome.

“You came,” you breathed out, once you were close enough for her to hear. “You… you didn’t have to.”

Wanda turned at the sound of your voice, taking a moment to admire the way you looked tonight. The sight of you only made her curse under her breath, questioning why you had to look so damn good all the time. 

“Of course, I came,” she said, subtle eyes skimming over the dress that wrapped around your curves. “I wouldn’t miss it. But, I am a little bit late… I didn’t know when it was starting.”

Your eyebrows twitched upwards as you listened to her words, pursing your lips as a way to hide the pain you were feeling in your chest, “No, it’s okay. I–I’m glad you’re here. I’m really happy you’re here.”

You hadn't expected Wanda to come, not after the fight and the painful silence that had ensued for the past two weeks. But she came anyway, to one of the most important nights you had been preparing for throughout the year and you were beyond grateful. You could kiss her right now. 

But the pain you felt in your chest mostly stemmed from the fact that seeing Wanda here tonight made you recall what had happened between you two in the art studio. For the whole week, you thought you wouldn’t see her again, and it hurt to think that when that was all you wanted. 

And not only that, but you were also disappointed in the fact that you couldn’t see Tyler anywhere. You wondered if he was going to come tonight, or if he even remembered. But, that doesn’t even matter to you anymore. It hurt, of course, but it was a typical feeling you grew tired of. She was right. And deep down, even though you chose to do the opposite of what she said, you knew she was, too. You felt guilty for hurting Wanda, and for trying to believe in your boyfriend when she had been telling you from the start that he wasn’t going to change. 

“Um,” you started, trying to find the words to say. “How do you like it so far? The exhibit? Did you get to walk around a bit?”

Wanda smiled lightly, noticing that this was your way to have a conversation with her, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s amazing. Everyone did a great job. You’re all really talented.”

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, turning away to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Your paintings are breathtaking, (Y/n),” she said, her eyes tracing the strokes of your artwork with admiration. “Almost just as stunning as their maker.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging her shoulder a bit. You knew it was a way for her to lighten up the mood on a night that was so important to you. 

“I’m serious,” Wanda smiled gently. “You look beautiful. Really. That dress… You’re stunning.”

A blush tinted your cheeks as she glanced down at your attire, a mixture of gratitude and unease evident in your expression. "Thank you, Wanda."

You were grateful. You really were. Tears of appreciation welled up in your eyes, reflecting the flickering lights of the gallery, as you thought about Wanda. You felt as if you didn't deserve Wanda's unwavering support, but you also couldn't deny the overwhelming gratitude you felt.

While your eyes occasionally darted to your phone, a sense of resignation had settled within you. You had sent countless messages to your boyfriend, seeking his whereabouts and wondering about his presence, but with each unanswered text, the realization began to crystallize in your heart. He would never change for you. He would never prioritize your happiness or love you the way you deserved.

As your eyes swept over the crowd, you struggled to find your boyfriend anywhere. His absence spoke volumes, a stark reminder of the shortcomings of your relationship and the love that had dwindled over time. But, Wanda's presence radiated with unwavering support and affection, reminding you of the love she had found in the midst of chaos. 

“(Y/n)!” Another student called out for you. “Professor is looking for you. Some other teachers are asking about one of your paintings.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” you told her, biting your lip as you turned back around to face Wanda. “I… I have to go. But, if it’s okay, do you think you could… I’m allowed to leave in about thirty minutes—The students just need to be here for the opening since that’s when all of the critics and important art people and professors come in… And the gallery stays open for the rest of the night anyway, but after that, I’m free to go… So I was wondering if you could… I mean, if you even want to—”

“Yeah, I-I’ll wait for you,” she said with a smile, nodding her head eagerly without a second thought, interrupting your adorable ramble before you could even ask your question. 

You had to fight a smile that was slowly making its way onto your face, “Okay, I-I’ll find you.”

Reluctantly, you stepped away to find your professor, who gestured toward a group of important art figures gathered nearby. You made your way towards them, your mind divided between the conversation that awaited you and Wanda. With each stolen glance, you couldn't help but notice the softness in Wanda's features, the way her eyes shimmered with a mix of emotions that mirrored her own.

Engaging in polite conversation with the art professionals, your attention wavered, your thoughts constantly drifting back to Wanda. You wanted to go back to her. As you listened intently to the conversation before you, your eyes would inevitably wander back to Wanda, who moved quietly, her every gesture captivating and graceful as she looked around

Yet, you knew that this conversation with your professor held importance for your artistic future. So, you remained present, exchanging pleasantries and discussing your work, all the while feeling the pull of your emotions toward Wanda, who appeared lost in your own thoughts as she explored the gallery.

When the conversation drew to a close, your professor commended you on your talent and potential, expressing a desire to further support your artistic journey. Grateful for the recognition, you excused yourself, your steps immediately directing themselves toward Wanda, who stood near a captivating sculpture. Your heart quickened as you made your way through the bustling gallery, your mind consumed with conflicting emotions. 

But before you could reach her, your eyes caught the sight of a familiar man standing passed the glass doors of the gallery. He stood out by the entrance, a bouquet in his palm as he was about to step into the building. 

Without wasting another second, you rushed over to where he stood, to try and keep him out because you felt that he didn’t belong here anymore. 

“What are you doing here?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

“(Y/n)! I’m so sorry for being late. I-I got caught up with work. You know how it is, and—and I couldn’t find the building and there was so much traffic when I was driving here,” Tyler said, muttering excuses after excuses. He held out the bouquet, his expression filled with contrived sincerity, “These are for you. I know how much you like them—”

“Tyler, I don’t want the flowers,” You shook your head, not even batting an eyelash at the way his arms dropped to the side after you said that sentence, gripping the plastic of the bouquet tightly in his hand. “I don’t want you here. I want you to leave.”

Confusion flickered across Tyler's face, quickly replaced by defensiveness. “What? I just fucking got here. I-I came to support you—”

“I am not going to do this with you again,” You rolled your eyes and glanced to the side, too furious to even look at him.

"Do what?"

“This, Tyler. I’m done. I’m done embarrassing myself. I’m tired you of treating me like shit. I can’t believe I spent so long trying to believe you’d change for me, but I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m done,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes.

Anger flashed across his face, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What the fuck are you talking about? We've been together for years. We can work through this. It’s just a rough patch."

“No, Tyler. It isn’t. I’ve already tried talking to you about this! So many times! But you just ignore me, you don’t talk to me, you don’t pay any attention to me, you flirt with everyone else and all you do for me is buy me so many goddamn flowers like they mean something for you!”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned to look away.

“I’m unbelievable? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, you are! You’re always so fucking boring! Always sitting alone at parties, always wanting to leave early, and you never want to go out—“

“How is this my fault?” You cried out in frustration. “You… You don’t even love me anymore.”

“What, and you do?”

The argument spilled onto the streets, voices raised and emotions running high. Your heart ached as the realization hit you with crushing force—this was the end. The end of a relationship that had long been tainted by neglect, disrespect, and a lack of true connection.

“I’m not doing this again, Tyler. We’re done. You can go find some other girl to give those stupid flowers to. Because, it’s not going to be me.”

Without saying more, you stepped back into the gallery and rushed through the gallery, heading straight into the office room where you kept your things. You closed the door behind you, tears streaming down your face. You leaned against the table, your body trembling with both relief and sadness. The echoes of the breakup reverberated in your mind, reminding you of the pain you had endured and the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders.

As you allowed yourself to surrender to your emotions, you were unaware that Wanda had been watching when you ran into the room, seeing the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks as you walked. But she waited. Wanda understood the need for you to process your feelings in private, respecting your space while patiently waiting for you. 

Minutes passed and you wiped away your tears, taking deep breaths to steady your trembling form. You decided that you felt like the building was suffocating you and that you needed to leave, but you remembered Wanda. With each passing moment, your heart began to steady and you slowly grabbed your things before heading out again. You knew that your decision to break away from Tyler was the right one, even if it meant venturing into unknown territory with Wanda. 

As you finally gathered the strength to leave the room, you slowly opened the door, your eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the gallery once again. And there, standing just a few steps away, was Wanda. She gave you a small smile as you slowly made your way towards her. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” Wanda watched as you tried to avoid her eyes as a way to hide the fact that you were crying. But she saw right through you.

You finally spoke, your voice trembled slightly, "I, um, think I need to get out of here, away from all this... everything. I know I asked you to wait—."

“No, it’s okay,” Wanda nodded immediately, her expression filled with empathy. "I’ll drive you home."

And normally, you’d protest and say you can go alone instead, but Wanda made no room for you to argue when she already started making her way towards the doors. Your eyes flickered with gratitude as you leaned into Wanda's presence, following closely behind her. 

You stepped outside, the cool night air embracing the both of you as Wanda led you to her car. She opened the door for you, gesturing for you to slide into the passenger seat. You settled into the seat, glancing at Wanda as she made her way into her own, your eyes shimmering with vulnerability. Starting the engine, Wanda guided the car onto the open road of the city, leaving the gallery and its lingering shadows in the rearview mirror. The world outside the windows slowly became a blur of city lights and passing landscapes as time passed. 

The drive was quiet. The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as she drove you home in a comforting silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, getting lost in your own thoughts. But Wanda stole glances at you whenever she could, her eyes tracing the delicate curve of your profile, sitting so pretty in the passenger seat of her car. You wore a jacket over that gorgeous dress you wore, and every fiber of Wanda's being yearned to reach out, to hold your hand, or put hers over your thigh. 

But she restrained herself. 

The car eventually glided to a stop in front of your apartment, the engine purring into silence. Wanda turned off the ignition and her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she spoke softly. 

“We’re here,” she said, rubbing her hands against her jeans nervously. 

You pulled yourself out of your trance the moment her words reached your ears, glancing out the window for a moment before looking back at her. She was waiting. You met Wanda's gaze, a flicker of a smile gracing your lips. She was waiting. You nodded once again, but you didn’t move to get out or anything. 

Instead, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Wanda's eyes widened, eyebrows twitching in surprise, her initial shock giving way to a glimmer of hope that danced in the depths of her gaze. A gentle smile curved Wanda's lips, the subtlest of nods conveying her agreement, even fighting the urge to say ‘please.’

“Yeah.”

It was quiet when she entered your apartment, following behind in soft footsteps as you led her through your front door. She’s never really been inside before—all the secret nights you spent with her were in the comfort of her own room in the sorority house. She liked having you in her bed. Then again, she would love to be in yours, if you’d let her. 

The air felt heavy with unspoken words, tension lingering from the events that had unfolded at the gallery. She followed closely behind you, her footsteps light and cautious as you led her down the hall to your kitchen. The atmosphere in the apartment seemed hushed, almost as if it was holding its breath, mirroring the uncertainty that lingered in Wanda's mind. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she could say, how she could comfort you, or how to even begin talking to you. 

Leaning against the kitchen table, Wanda's gaze fixed upon your back, watching your every move as you prepared tea for her. Nervous anticipation coursed through her veins, a gentle thrum of excitement filling her chest as she stared at you. She found herself entranced by the sight of you before her. The dress hugged you in all of the right spots, every line and curve fitting you perfectly. And Wanda couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly the fabric draped over your frame, molding itself to you, as if it had been designed with you in mind. Wanda didn’t know how long she was staring. Her eyes traced the gentle sway of your hips as you reached for a teacup, and she wanted nothing more than to pull you close to her.

“I broke up with him,” you blurted out suddenly. 

Lost in her admiration, Wanda's breath hitched ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, pulling her out of her trance. 

“I-I feel more relieved than sad actually… It’s like… I don’t know,” you sighed. “Should I be feeling guilty for being happy that we broke up? I feel like should be crying right now, but I feel… thankful.”

Wanda watched as you continued to make two cups of tea, your back turned to her, listening to your words carefully. 

“I just don’t know if it’s okay for me to…”

You sighed again, and even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Wanda had a feeling she knew what you were going to say. She could sense the guilt and uncertainty that weighed heavily on your mind, knowing all too well the thoughts that plagued her.

Just as you were about to voice out the rest of your thoughts, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, holding you softly as her front pressed against your back, “Is this okay?”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, and Wanda wonders if she should pull away and keep her distance until you decide what you feel is right or wrong. But her thoughts dissipated when she felt you nod. She sighed in relief, letting her eyes flutter closed as she brought her head down to your shoulder, kissing your skin there. 

“I heard,” she started, mumbling into your shoulder so quietly that you almost didn’t hear. “When Tyler came. I just… I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything.”

You stayed quiet as she spoke, slowly stirring the tea in the mug in front of you. Gently, she slipped her hand into yours, intertwining her fingers softly with yours before bringing it up to her face to kiss the back of your hand.

“I’m proud of you. Really. I am,” she said, rubbing the pad of her thumb along your skin.

“You were right,” You sighed and smiled gently, using your hands to run them over hers, the ones that rested against your stomach, holding you close against her, “I knew you were right. But, I should’ve listened to you sooner… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” she said, shaking her head against your back. “I knew you were nervous about it. And that you were scared… I knew. But I pressured you about it anyway, even though I knew you weren’t ready yet.”

You turned around to look at her, your hands landing on her shoulders, “Wanda—“

“I would have waited either way. I already have been. I would still wait for you if you need me too,” she said, more sincerely than you’d ever heard anyone say anything before. “I would do anything.”

You stood there, your heart momentarily caught off guard by the surge of emotions that flooded your being. Wanda's words lingered in your mind, filled with a depth of sincerity that you had never experienced before. The toxic grip that your ex-boyfriend had held on your heart suddenly seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming love you felt from just looking into Wanda’s eyes alone. You smiled sadly, slightly mad at yourself for not dropping everything to be with her sooner. 

Bringing your hand up to her face, you smoothed your thumb over her cheek as a way to calm her down, “You don’t have to wait anymore, Wanda.”

Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise and hope. She searched your gaze, her heart pounding with anticipation, trying to find any signs of regret or disapproval. 

“Please tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” she breathed, waiting for the response that would shape the path ahead. But as she looked into your eyes, she saw something that sparked joy within her.

You brought a second hand up to cup her face and leaned in to press your lips against her cheek. She closed her eyes at the contact, the soft kiss did well to erupt butterflies in her stomach. Wanda sighed and dropped her head to hide her face against your neck after you kissed her, her breath tickling your skin slightly as her grip around your waist grew tighter. The corners of her own lips curved up into a smile that she 

couldn’t fight, a soft chuckle bubbling in her throat as she breathed you in.

“Do you really want this with me?”

“I love you,” you said, more certain than ever, watching as Wanda’s breath hitched at the sounds of your words. You smiled needily, entirely in love and filled with so many emotions you couldn’t contain them all at once. “I want everything with you.”

It was finally here—the moment when she could finally call you hers. Heart pounding, she reached her arms around you again keeping herself in your embrace and wanting to be as close as possible to you.

She hid her face again by tucking it into the side of your neck, nuzzling as close as she could, “I can’t stop smiling.”

Gently scratching the nape of Wanda’s neck to grab her attention, you urged her to bring her head back up. But the moment she did, you felt her lips press against yours. Her patience had worn thin, wanting to taste you after what felt like forever of not being close to you, not being able to touch you, hold you, or kiss you. Wanda sighed into the kiss, her hands sliding to the small of your back to pull you impossibly close to her while you let yours run through her hair. She moaned into your mouth when you tugged on it slightly.

Wanda smiled against your lips, thinking about all the ways she would love you, treasure you, unlike him. Her mind wandered in between the time she kissed you, the addicting taste of you on her tongue was making her feel weak in her knees. She found her hands slowly traveling down to your hips, then lower and lower, up until they rested on the lowest part of your back, her fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress. 

“What are you doing?” You pulled back with a giggle, looking at her, acting innocently curious.

“Kissing you,” she said, dragging her lips along the skin under your jaw, kissing you softly there as you tilted your head to the side to give her more space. “Can I help you out of this dress? Please?”

You shuddered at the sound of her low voice, your hands gripping her shoulders like your life depended on it. You nodded, about to say yes, but Wanda was quick to put her mouth on yours the second you opened it, slipping her tongue past your lips. 

The entire night she had to see your figure so beautifully displayed in this little black dress and ignore it. But it was damn near impossible now with you so close and moaning into her mouth. Wanda was at a loss for words. She just didn’t know how to say it. Everything was perfect now. You were perfect. The way the straps of your dress fell off your shoulders was perfect. The way you smelled and tasted. The way that Wanda could call you hers now, keep you all to herself.

And finally, her chest heaved only for a moment before she chose what to do and you closed your eyes and welcomed something you had long dreamed of. 

— navigation!

[cecilyv]

Graffiti on my body

(buck/tommy, 9-1-1, mini-fic)

Sometimes being multiple time zones away from @liminalmemories21 sucks, and sometimes you have a vision, you write up the basics, and you wake up to a moment of joy. Today we both got to say, "Good morning to me; and yes, exactly."

++

Tommy’s body has always been utilitarian; built and nourished for what could it do, how far it could be pushed. As much as he thought about it at all, he vaguely considered what it needed — food, water, exercise. Mostly it was a nuisance that never did enough, never as much as he wanted, as his superiors wanted — so he focused on how he could build it to hold more, help more, save more.

But now, wrapped in Evan’s sheets, bolstered by Evan’s body, he wonders, maybe for the first time, what his body wants, what his body can accept, what his body can give. Evan’s hands make him question what he’s been missing, what he could have been wanting, asking for. He wants to see what Evan sees; he wants to look down and see more than a job, a soldier, a firefighter. 

Evan touches him like nobody else ever has — there's desire and hunger, and those he's used to. He’s seen them before; maybe not to this degree, and that’s a trip all of its own.  But Evan touches him with wonder, too — like he's precious, like he could be hurt and Evan wants to keep him safe. Nobody's ever touched him like that. 

Evan lays with his head on Tommy’s chest, drawing on his skin with his finger, intricate swirls and whorls, tracing a pattern that Tommy can't see, but Evan clearly can because it's the same each time  — wants to ask what it is, but also doesn't, just feels it, lets it sink in until he can almost trace it himself. He lies there and takes it, skin still sensitive, flushed and slightly sweaty and, over time, he realizes he needs it, he wants it — Evan marking his place, claiming what’s his.

When he looks down at his skin later, he can almost see the love that Evan has inscribed into his skin. 

And one day, when Evan’s on a 48 and Tommy’s just lying in bed, he traces one of Evan’s favorite spots, the one he always goes back to — and he wouldn’t say he’s impulsive; he’d argue that he has good instincts— he pulls on his clothes and goes to the local tattoo parlor. He stands in parade rest, staring at the art on the wall, abstract colors and details and designs that he doesn’t understand but knows are beautiful. When she asks if she can help, he tries to explain what he wants but he can’t get it quite right. She looks at him with exasperation, with pity, and tells him to come back when he’s sure about what he wants; she doesn’t want him to regret his decisions. 

He leaves, buys a pen and when Evan gets home, when they’re lying in bed again and Evan starts absentmindedly tracing the pattern on his skin, he reaches into a drawer and pulls out the pen and hands it to Evan, and tells him, he wants to see what Evan sees, he wants to wear his mark, he wants to be covered in Evan.

And he goes back to the artist the next day, with Evan sketched on his skin and she examines Tommy in a new way, like he’s a work of art, like he’s changed, improved, special. She sees what Evan sees. 

And Tommy points at the design on his hip, just below his scar, and the woman tilts her head, consideringly, just breathes, “Yes.”

And he lies there and lets her permanently etch Evan onto his skin.

Evan’s eyes go wide when he sees it. “You,” he swallows, voice hoarse, “…show me. “

He knows it was actually pretty impulsive, that they haven’t really been dating long enough for tattoos. But he also knows he won’t regret it if they break up. It’ll break his heart — in so fast he can’t feel the bottom anymore — but he won’t regret it.

“I like the way you see me,” he says simply.

[therealcocoshady]

The Eras of Eminem as a Dad

A/N : Ok guys. I’m ovulating and I just can’t stop thinking of what it would be like to have Marshall’s baby in different eras. 🥹 I have said it before and I’ll say it again : this man is the ultimate baby daddy !!! Tell me what Dad you’d think he would be haha. I’m going feral over the thought of having a baby with this fine specimen of a man !!!

1999 - 2004 : The debut era

* His career is just taking off, and it’s definitely a bad time. It’s hard enough for him to be able to be there for Hailie and deal with all the coparenting issues with Kim. I can see him freaking out over the news of your pregnancy.

* However, his new success and the money he is starting to make allows him to be in a more positive mindset than the one he was in when he had his first child. He always wanted to be able to provide and now, he can actually see it happening. It drives him to work even harder.

* He is not able to be very present throughout your pregnancy, but whenever you get to see him, he melts at the sight of your belly.

* He’s not home too often but he calls whenever he can, telling you how much he misses you, asking how you’re feeling.

* When the baby is born he is virtually unable to shut up about them. He talks about them all the time in interviews and it’s endearing.

* He tours a lot, he’s always on the move and, frankly, there’s a possibility that he’d miss the birth. God knows his life is hectic. But he absolutely makes it up to you and the baby and he tries to be there for every important moment of his children’s life.

2005-2009 : hiatus

* In this era, he was going through so much… I think it’s just as well that he didn’t get anyone pregnant.

* He’s got a lot on his plate. Between rehab, relapsing, Proof’s death…. If he learns about you being pregnant, he absolutely loses it.

* He’s not really present, mentally speaking. He’s there but not really there. You feel really lonely in your pregnancy.

* That being said, he tries to be a good father. He absolutely loves you and the baby, and it is one of the reasons he is fighting so hard to get sober. Fatherhood and his love for his kids is the trigger to him realizing he needs to get help because he wants to be there for them.

2009-2013 : Comeback era

* In this era, he is healthy and he has a more positive outlook on life. He is comfortable with his success, he has conquered a lot of demons…

* He focuses a lot on making good music so he’s busy. Him being so involved in his work makes you nervous when you tell him about your pregnancy.

* He’s really happy though. He is sober, happy to make music again and he gets to have a baby with the woman he loves ? He feels like the luckiest man in the world.

* He makes adjustments to his schedule to be able to be productive and be there for you and your child at the same time. He tries his best but he’s under a lot of pressure, though.

* Of course, family comes first. He was given a second chance at life and he will not be making the same mistakes.

* Speaking of mistakes, he’s certainly learned from the past decade and he wouldn’t be so open about his family life in interviews. He would tell the world he is a father again, share the baby’s name but quickly shut down questions about it in interviews.

2014-2018 : Maturity era

* Sort of the same as the previous era.

* I feel like it would be the one where he is most likely to be 100% happy and at peace with the idea of welcoming a baby. Maybe having actually tried for it ?

* In this era, he has matured a lot as an artist and as a person. He’s had to deal with a lot of criticism regarding his work and he has become really wary of social media and how weird fans can get about him and his personal life.

* If it were up to him, he wouldn’t say anything and keep his family life a secret. Maybe that’s exactly what he does.

* Your growing family is what keeps him going. He wants to make you proud. Family life keeps him grounded and he hold on tight.

* He is definitely emotional. His emotions are very raw. The songs he writes about you, your family and the baby are gut-wrenching. He is baring his soul, trying to be the best version of himself.

* He is very protective of you and the baby. It’s hard enough when criticism about his music get to him but if someone mentions your name or the baby’s ? He will go to war. Careers will be lost.

* Tours are much much shorter in this era, because he doesn’t care for it as much and because his ultimate priority is being their for his children.

2020-Present Day : Current era

* This man is in his fifties, he is secure, it’s all about hip-hop and he makes the music he wants, and does promo how he wants. Media appearances are more rare, performances are sparse…

* He’s in a good place mentally but being and « older dad » does something to him. It makes him kind of freak out when you discuss the topic of children. He knows he’d be a good father, he is able to be present and provide. But the perspective of doing it all over again ? He definitely freaks out a little.

* Your relationship, your pregnancy and even the baby’s existence are almost a secret. He has never been more secretive about his personal life.

* He is happier than ever with you and your little family. He does things however he wants and though he loves music it’s not his priority.

* He’s all about family and football. And sometimes he raps.

* I think present era is the one in which he is more likely to raise a little brat who gets spoiled to much. The GOAT title is secured, he’s wealthy, his other kids are grown up… the eldest went to public school and were encouraged to live a normal life but it might be different for the baby.

* He is so paranoid about people harassing his baby that it’s Nannies instead of daycare, private school instead of public one…

* And as if often happens when people have kids later in life : he is much more lenient. He will always insist on respect and manners but that baby has him wrapped around their finger and they probably won’t hear the word « no » from him too often.

[hellodropbear]

Drawing.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

this is based off two requests so I hope you enjoy!

please keep sending requests I’m loving writing them :)

~~~~~~

Elena was with Camila when it happened, completely unaware of what was happening down on the training pitch. 

She had been drawing all day, a new hobby she had picked up, trying to copy Mapi as she sketched in her notepad. 

And as usual, Isabel wanted to be just like her Mami, so she had picked up a dropped pencil and started drawing on a receipt she found on the floor. 

Ingrid would have thought she had found the new Picasso, the way Mapi was cheering. 

"My baby is an artist!" It was the first time Isabel had drawn without being prompted. It was a circle on the receipt, with lots of lines in the middle, but Mapi couldn't have been prouder. 

Isabel lived off Mapi's pride so she told Camila she wanted to practice her drawing that day and they had done just that, sat in the same spot - shaded from the sun but still outside - and drawing since she had been dropped off. 

Isabel had just finished a drawing when it happened, although she had no idea, holding up the page and waving it in front of her babysitter to see. 

"It's me! And Mami and Ingrid!" She pointed at the yellow blob with four legs. "And this is the puppy I want! I asked santa for a puppy this year, Camila."

Camila smiled, staring at the page intently. 

"It's so good, Isabel! You're getting so good!"

She smiled proudly, trying to stop herself from grinning to much but entirely unable to shake off how good she felt from the praise. 

"Thank you, Camila." She replied quietly, swinging her legs beneath her on the seat. "Your drawing is good too!"

The blonde looked down at her own piece of paper, somehow the cat she had been drawing was worse than the toddler's sketch of her family. She laughed, shaking her head. 

"Not as good as yours though."

Isabel blushed awkwardly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to lie. 

"We are both good." She nodded, proud of her decision to say that. 

~~~~~~

Mapi had fallen harshly, hitting the ground with a deafening thud after landing awkwardly on her knee. 

The scream she released was almost chilling and the training field fell silent immediately, time stopping as the medics raced over to the groaning defender. 

It was the most pain she had ever been in, physically, and she had given birth to a full child not long ago. It was excruciating and she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping down her cheeks and onto the grass. 

She winced as they poked and prodded at her knee, quickly coming to the conclusion that she would not be walking off the pitch and getting out the stretcher to get her to the medical room. 

It was as she was being lifted that she saw both Ingrid and Alexia standing over her, worry etched deep into their features. Their worry made Mapi feel sick to her stomach, because it meant there was actually something wrong. 

It wasn't just in her head like she had been silently praying for. It was real. 

The prospect of missing out on another chunk of her career was almost sickening, and the thought of having to go through that intensive physiotherapy program after a knee injury was almost worse. 

But nobody had mentioned an acl yet, so she thought she was ok. 

Surely there aren't many other serious knee injuries that can take you out for so long, right?

Except Frido had a knee surgery not three months ago and she is far off her return. And there are so many other people who have had knee injuries that aren't acls - injuries that have forced them to retire. 

She banished the word from her mind as soon as it appeared. It wouldn't be that bad, surely?

But as much as she tried, the thought that it might be the end simply would not leave her brain, taunting her as she became more and more hysterical in the physio bed. 

It was only when she was loaded up into the ambulance that she began to question the whereabouts of her daughter, wondering why she hadn't been brought over as soon as Mapi had asked. 

The staff said they would sort it out, only one of them stepping into the ambulance with Mapi, the rest hanging back at the facility as the ambulance drove away, an inconsolable Mapi laying in the back. 

"It's just a knee, please, just go back and get Isabel!" 

They had shaken their heads, apologising and telling her that she would see the toddler soon. 

~~~~~~

She was confused when it was Alexia who accompanied Ingrid to come get her, because usually Mapi was the first person she saw when their training was over and they could go home. 

She was confused by the look on their faces, almost anxious, both looking sad. 

"Hey Is." Alexia ruffled her hair as she put her pencils down, observing the pictures in front of her. 

"Where's Mami? I want to show her my drawings!"

She brandished two of the pieces of paper towards the blonde, who smiled sadly and knelt down beside her goddaughter. 

"Mami fell over in training today." 

Isabel frowned. 

"Mami always falls over! It's so silly, Ale, she's always on the ground!" 

Her frown was quickly replaced by giggles, picturing her mother falling over all the time, something she would usually laugh about after the game. 

Alexia nodded, her smile diminishing. 

"It was a bad fall, Is, Mami had to go to the hospital."

The toddler's face switched again, back to her frown. The hospital is big and scary, where you go when you're really really sick or really really injured. 

People die in the hospital, when they're sick enough to be taken there. 

Her lip trembled. 

"Is Mami dying?" 

She started to whimper and Alexia was quick to draw her into a hug. 

"No! No, Mami is going to be ok, Isa, she just has a sore knee! She will be completely fine soon, she just wants to see you."

Isabel nodded, sniffling quietly. 

"Can we see Mami?"

She looked up at Ingrid behind Alexia, who nodded easily. 

"That's where we're going now, Is. We're going to see Mami."

Camila, who had been busily packing away their drawing tools, said a quick goodbye to the trio, smiling as Ingrid thanked her and walking out, waving goodbye to Isabel as she was hoisted onto Alexia's hip. 

The toddler was quiet as they drove across the city, her fingers tight around the pieces of paper that Camila had left on the table as she stared out the window until the car parked. 

Her spare hand was used to grip onto Ingrid's as they got out of the car, walking into the big and crowded building. They had to wait for a bit before they could see Mapi, so Isabel sat herself on Ingrid's lap, relishing in the comfort that the Norwegian's arms gave her as she held her close. 

Her hand remained tight in Ingrid's as they were finally allowed to go see Mapi, slowly trailing behind as Alexia opened the door. 

But Mapi only had eyes for her daughter, lighting up slightly as she spotted the curly brunette head tucked away behind Ingrid's leg. 

"Isabel, come here." She smiled as the little face popped out from behind the leg, looking around anxiously before stepping forward and hesitantly standing beside Mapi's bed. 

It was when she was lifted up to sit beside Mapi that she started crying, big and terrified sobs wracking her entire body. 

It was so scary for someone so little, seeing her mother so sad and weak in the hospital bed, her usually bright features dulled and her usually enthusiastic voice more sullen. 

The hospital was so big and the room was smelly. Mapi was sick and there was nothing Isabel could do about it.

So she cried into her mother's arms, scared about what was going to happen and scared about where she was. 

"It's ok, it's ok." Mapi tried to reassure her daughter. "I'll be ok, Is. it'll all be ok."

It was a few minutes before Isabel calmed down, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, holding out the little drawings she had chosen to bring. 

"You did more drawings?"

Mapi smiled excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning about to open all her presents. 

Isabel nodded, pointing at the first one. 

"Me and you, and Ingrid." She pointed at the yellow blob again. "My doggy."

The Spaniard shook her head, smiling and planting a kiss on the top of Isabel's head. 

"What about Bagheera?"

Isabel shrugged. 

"My doggy is more important."

Ingrid, on the other side of the room was taking deep and controlled breaths, much to Alexia's amusement. 

Maybe a month ago now, they had been on their daily walk in the park and Isabel had seen a little puppy, a baby golden retriever and had fallen in love. 

Thankfully, the owner was nice and allowed the toddler to pet her dog, but Ingrid had stood there with silent frustration on her face because unlike Mapi, she knew they were going to have to deal with a dog obsessed three year old for the foreseeable future. 

And she was right, because every day since, Isabel had asked over and over when she was going to get her puppy, even writing it in her note to santa as Ingrid had been her scribe, silently fuming at the inane request. 

But while the Norwegian had been reasonable and realistic, Mapi had been overly enthusiastic at the idea of a new puppy running around the apartment, clearly forgetting that they had an excited toddler and cat to deal with already.

They had taken the argument to training, Ingrid shooting daggers at her girlfriend as she complained about Ingrid stealing Isabel's childhood happiness by refusing the puppy, targeting the younger girls when she was asking who thought a golden retriever would be a good idea. 

The brunette didn't want Isabel to be sad, but she just didn’t think it was a good idea.

Mapi on the other hand thought a puppy would be the best possible addition to their family. 

"Your doggy is so important." The Spaniard pointedly smiled at Ingrid, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

~~~~~~

Isabel was happy in Mapi's lap as the doctors returned with the news. 

Mapi was even more happy to have her daughter to hold onto as she received the news that she absolutely did not want to hear. 

She allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes, before wiping them and smiling. 

Nobody has died, she realised. Everyone she loves is alright, everyone she loves is happy. 

Since the death of her best friend, Mapi has found that her reaction to bad news has become a lot more positive, learning to look on the bright side. 

There's always a silver lining to every cloud, no matter how dark. 

The dark cloud that came with Luis' death came with a blindingly bright silver lining - her baby daughter. 

This injury would no doubt come with one too, but she has to give it time to figure out exactly what that might be. 

Because everyone is ok. 

Everything will be ok. 

And when Isabel stood up beside her, bending down to wrap her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek and wiping away the singular stray tear, she realised that she had everything she possibly needed right there. 

Alexia could see that too. She knew Mapi would be ok which is why she felt it was alright for her to leave, to go home. 

Unlike last time she was in that bed, the centre back was happy. She had Isabel, she had Ingrid. She had what she needed and it was so clear how appreciative she was of her two girls. 

So Alexia placed a kiss on Mapi's head, gave Isabel a cuddle and Ingrid a hug and she drove back home, disappointed with the news but perfectly certain that her best friend would be alright. 

Mapi was allowed home that night, so long as she used her crutches until the surgery in two days. It meant not really moving except to go to the bathroom and to move between her bedroom and the lounge room but they would make do. 

Ingrid could live upstairs in the Spaniard's apartment for a bit to make sure Isabel was alright. To look after Mapi who wouldn't be able to look after herself. 

"Ok, Is. Mami has to be careful with her crutches now." Ingrid took the toddler's hand, using her spare hand to help Mapi up and onto the crutches. 

Isabel looked on wearily. It was weird, seeing that her Mami couldn't really walk. The toddler had always seen her mother as such a strong and brave woman, it was hard to see her so helpless. 

Her face remained downtrodden until Mapi used the end of one of her crutches to softly nudge the back of Isabel's head, smiling and winking when the toddler turned around in shock. 

"Mami!" She giggled softly, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth to hide the laughs. 

"What? I didn't do anything!" 

She laughed more, shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid's leg. 

"Mami is so silly, Ingrid!" 

The Norwegian chuckled, agreeing with a nod. 

~~~~~~

It was only the second time that Isabel had slept over at Ingrid's place, the last time was when Mapi had driven all the way to Zaragoza overnight just to surprise her father on father's day.

She liked it though because there was no spare room which meant she could sleep in Ingrid's bed with Ingrid all night.

And after the scary day, she was in desperate need of some serious cuddles.

They had to wake up early in the morning for the surgery but Isabel had fallen asleep in the car journey there, only waking up in Ingrid's arms once they had entered the hospital.

Mapi was back in that hospital gown, her face void of piercings and the little beaded necklaces that they had made together a few months ago. She forced a weak smile on her face as Isabel looked at her, trying to reassure her daughter that she was ok, that everything would be ok soon.

The toddler wasn't convinced, burying her head in Ingrid's neck and mumbling incoherently about being scared.

She remained put in the Norwegian's arms as her mother was rolled into the operating room and as they waited for the doctor to bring them the good news once it was all done.

Even when Mapi was back in the regular hospital room, she clung onto Ingrid, worried that she would hurt her mother even more if she touched her.

But when she woke up, all Mapi wanted was to see her daughter, to see she was ok.

"My lion cub." She mumbled groggily, her eyes only half open but able to see where Isabel was sat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Come here, Is. I missed you."

Dutifully, the child walked over to her bedside, hesitantly placing her hand in Mapi's outstretched one.

"Hello Mami." She frowned at her mother's pale complexion, quickly retracting her hand from her mother's cold one.

"Hey, hey. Come back, Is. I'm alright, see! Just a bit tired, that's all."

She looked up uncertainly, watching as Mapi shuffled over and patted the space beside her.

"Here, come on. I need my girl." She smiled down at Isabel, who bit her lip and slowly climbed up onto the bed.

"I love you Mami." She lay her head on Mapi's chest, her legs to the side of her. "I don't like that you're sick."

Mapi just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"I don't like that I'm sick either, Is. I love you too."

Isabel smiled easily, her worries squashed as Mapi drifted back to sleep.

Ingrid joined them quickly after Mapi fell asleep, sitting on the armchair on her other side and promptly falling asleep with her hand holding Mapi's arm, clearly exhausted from the stress of the day.

Isabel wasn't far behind, drifting off easily in the safety of Ingrid and Mapi.

It was what the Spaniard woke up to not long later, both of her girls right there with her, fast asleep but somehow still comforting her, still reassuring her that everything would be alright.

It was the first time she had been in a hospital bed but so sure that everything would be ok.

As long as she had her two girls, everything would be perfectly fine. 

She remained certain as she said goodbye to them later that evening, watching as Isabel held Ingrid's hand tightly as they walked out of the room and headed home. 

And Isabel was sure that everything would be alright later that night, warm in Ingrid's arms as they both wondered how Mapi was doing. 

~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for the whole family. 

Ingrid was hovering, so Mapi told her to go back to her apartment for the night. She regretted it of course, she missed the Norwegian as soon as the door closed behind her. 

Isabel didn't know what to do now that her routine had changed so much. 

There was no more going to training because she could just stay home with Mapi. 

Except her mother had just had a surgery and was exhausted, always sleeping and if she wasn't sleeping she was too tired to move, too tired to entertain Isabel, no matter how hard she tried. 

There were no more bedtime stories or bedtime cuddles. Mapi couldn't move enough to get off the sofa, let alone down onto the floor of Isabel's room where she used to kneel. 

Instead, the toddler got her cuddles on the sofa and Ingrid would tuck her in and read the story. 

But Ingrid's Spanish wasn't very good, and her voices weren't as funny as Mapi's. 

She struggled to sleep for the first few nights, feeling worried, feeling sad. 

Mapi struggled to sleep because she had been sleeping all day and when night fell she was suddenly overcome with an intense guilt that she couldn't care for herself or her child; that Isabel had to sit around all day just playing with the cat for entertainment. 

The toddler tried the bedroom first, expecting to see Mapi and Ingrid asleep in there like usual. Her lion was in her arms, ready to curl up between them and fall fast asleep, comforted by their warm bodies. 

But the bed was empty and made perfectly, so she continued down into the lounge room where she had said goodnight to Mapi a few hours earlier. 

She didn't expect for Mapi to still be lying on the sofa and she didn't expect her to be wide awake, staring straight ahead in the distance. 

"Mami." Isabel got her attention, the Spaniard's eyes immediately softening as they fell on her daughter.

"Hey Is. Come here.” She patted the sofa beside her, noticing the toddler's hesitancy. 

She nodded, smiling weakly and running over to jump up on the sofa, immediately snuggling into Mapi's side. 

"What are you doing awake, my lion cub?" 

She wrapped her arm around Isabel's small form, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Couldn't sleep, Mami." Her voice was quiet, muffled by the fabric of Mapi's shirt. 

"It's alright. You can sleep right here with me."

The child fell asleep quickly and Mapi wasn't far behind. 

It was how Ingrid found them the next morning, wrapped up in each others arms on the sofa.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, she quickly began cleaning up around the house, putting everything away before getting started on some breakfast. 

Isabel woke up first, the scent of pancakes cooking enough to rouse her, her eyes snapping over to the kitchen where Ingrid was stood, her back facing the toddler. 

"Ingrid!" She smiled softly, unwrapping her body from Mapi's arm and hopping off the sofa, walking over towards the Norwegian who spun around at the sound of the toddler’s voice.

"Morning Is. Sleep well?"

She shook her head, leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Couldn't sleep, so Mami helped me."

The Norwegian frowned, using her spare hand to stroke Isabel's head. 

"That's nice of her. Do you want the first pancake?"

She nodded easily, grinning as the small pancake was handed to her and eating it quickly. 

"Should I wake up Mami for breakfast?"

Ingrid hesitated, softly shaking her head after a moments thought. 

"No, Mami is still tired. We can make her some pancakes when she wakes up and I'll let you decorate them with the fruits that she likes, alright?"

Isabel nodded sadly, resting her head on Ingrid's leg and palming the hem of her shorts. 

"When will Mami be better?"

"Soon, Is. She'll be better soon."

~~~~~~

Isabel was relatively quiet as she ate her pancakes, barely consuming half of them before she pushed the plate back to Ingrid who stood up and took it, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

She was worried about her, to be honest, and had half a mind to take her to training and get Camila to watch her. 

Mapi was a good mother, that was never a doubt, but Ingrid began to question whether it was good for Isabel to stay inside all day with her as she fell in and out of sleep, unable to get up from the sofa without help. 

But bringing up that issue to the Spaniard would send her down a long spiral of self doubt and upset, so she made the decision to leave it, instead deciding to just come back as soon as training was over and seeing what she could do. 

The problem was, as Mapi woke up and Ingrid tried to leave, Isabel seemed set on going with the Norwegian, her backpack full of colouring and some snacks she gathered from the cupboard, her shoes on and her bedroom tidy. 

"Is, you're staying here today, staying here with Mami." Ingrid knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "And you'll be good for her and give her all the cuddles she needs until I get back in a few hours, alright?"

She shook her head, frowning. 

"I draw! With Camila!" 

Mapi sighed quietly from the sofa, intervening. 

"Camila's not there today because you can stay at home with me!" She mustered on a smile and Isabel looked up at her, nodding sadly. 

"Ingrid will be right back after training though, you're not stuck here with me for too long."

The Norwegian could practically hear Mapi's heart break, she was already thrown deep into the pool of self-consciousness and doubt. It was as if a single word could change her whole perspective and Ingrid had seen the clear flip over and over again. 

And the self-doubts that Mapi carried would never be understood or accepted by Ingrid, who spent every day trying to subtly prove to her that she was a good mother, that Isabel loved her. 

This incident wouldn't support all the progress she's made. 

"Is, go give Mami a hug alright? I'll be back soon." Ingrid smoothed out the toddler's hair, nudging her softly towards the sofa and watching as the child jumped on and lay down, resting her head on Mapi's shirt. 

The Spaniard's arm snaked back around the child, her spare hand waving at Ingrid as she walked out the door, her attention turning back to her daughter on her lap as soon as the door was closed. 

"I'm sorry I'm not very fun at the moment, Is. And I'm sorry that we can't go to training like usual, I know how much you like your days with Camila."

Isabel nodded, shrugging. 

"It's ok, Mami, you didn't fall over on purpose." She leant further into her mother's arm. "You don't have to be sad though, I don't like when you're sad."

"I don't like being sad either! But it's ok because when you're around, I'm always happy." She smiled softly. "You make me so happy, my lion cub."

"You make me happy too, Mami. Even when you can't play with me!" 

She giggled and Mapi knew exactly where she was going. 

"But when I get my doggy you won't have to play with me because I can play with her. Or him. I can play with my doggy."

The Spaniard smiled, running her hands through her daughter's hair and humming quietly. 

"You still have to convince Ingrid on that one."

Isabel huffed in a way that was entirely too serious for a 3 year old. 

"I don't know why... why doesn't Ingrid want a doggy?"

"She thinks you're enough work as it is, my lion."

She looked up, completely outraged. 

"I'm not work! I am a good girl, even Ingrid told me that!"

Mapi just laughed, adjusting her position on the sofa. 

"How about you run and grab your pens and paper and I can show you how to do some drawings today?"

The toddler's face switched from outrage to excitement in a split second as she bounced down from the sofa, running to her room and grabbing her supplies. 

She was used to drawing with Camila who tried her best, but was not very good at all. Getting to draw with her Mami, who was the best drawer that Isabel had ever seen was a novelty and the way she practically bounced back to the sofa emphasised just how excited she was. 

It was how Ingrid found them when she got home, Isabel wedged in an entirely uncomfortable position on Mapi's lap but it didn't look like she could care less - she was completely enthralled by Mapi's drawing of a puppy on the paper, her own pen and paper long discarded on the sofa beside her. 

Isabel's eyes lit up as the door opened, immediately beckoning Ingrid over, completely disregarding her post-training exhaustion and discomfort. 

"Ingrid! Look at Mami's drawing! It's a doggy."

The Norwegian shook her head, walking over to the duo on the sofa and sitting down beside them.

"It's a good puppy, isn't it!"

She nodded, looking over at Mapi with a glint in her eyes.

"I was thinking on the way home." She paused, her eyes flicking between the mother and daughter, each of them wearing equal expressions of suspense and interest.

"I think that you've been so good, Is, since Mami got hurt."

Mapi started to understand where this was going, a smile growing on her face while Isabel remained completely in suspense.

"I think that you've shown to us that you're responsible and I think you've shown us that you deserve a dog too."

The child's face lit up immediately and she almost knocked Mapi over with the speed she threw herself out of her position and right into Ingrid.

"I'm getting a doggy!"

~~~~~~

It was the three month anniversary of Mapi injuring her knee.

Christmas had come and gone, and Isabel had tried desperately hard to hide her disappointment when a puppy hadn't shown up in her stocking.

They had wanted to give it to her then, but couldn't justify taking it to Zaragoza for Christmas, nor could they justify buying a puppy right before their trip to Norway for new years.

Ingrid also hadn't wanted to buy a puppy when Mapi was still on crutches, still not entirely able to look after her child alone, let alone a new dog as well. Ingrid was mostly around, but the away trips would be almost impossible with a dog and a toddler if Mapi still could not walk.

So Isabel had been surprised and excited by her other gifts, things that had been used to death already. The thought of a dog never really left her brain, but she managed to push it to the side as she opened her Christmas presents and ate the Christmas food that her Grandmother had provided.

But now it was March. It was finally getting warmer and Mapi was finally returning to the pitch for training.

Off the pitch, she was completely recovered, back to kneeling by Isabel's bed every night for bedtime stories and cuddles, back to running around with the toddler on their (almost) daily walks to the park.

Ingrid had dressed her this morning, making sure her favourite dog shirt was clean the night before, sliding it over her head with a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulling her crazy morning hair back into braids.

The toddler had pointed down at the dog on her shirt, babbling in an incoherent mix of Spanish and Norwegian about how much she loved dogs.

Ingrid could only smother down her grin, thinking about the hidden stash of dog toys and supplies they had been building over the past couple of months - shoved into the ensuite of the master bedroom.

Not a week after she had agreed to buying a dog, Ingrid had signed her name on an obscure package addressed to Mapi, watching on with amusement as the Spaniard opened it up and admired the leash and dog bed that had arrived.

She was bored, apparently, sat at home alone and unable to participate in the walks that Ingrid was taking Isabel on. The boredom materialised as online shopping and she had guiltily admitted to Ingrid that she was expecting a whole lot of packages in the next few weeks.

They had kept an eye out for ads advertising golden retriever puppies, almost giving up when it seemed impossible to find one anywhere.

But three weeks ago, Mapi's mother had seen an ad up in her hometown and immediately sent it off to the couple and the next day, they had confirmed their purchase of a brand new golden retriever.

The Spaniard collected it from Zaragoza alone, under the guise of visiting home to clean out her old bedroom - an excursion that she was sure Isabel would have zero interest in attending.

The dog had been left with Alexia over night and they were surprising the toddler that day in the park.

And the little girl had absolutely no idea what would be awaiting her at the end of her walk.

~~~~~~

Isabel swung her arms happily between Mapi and Ingrid, a grin on her face as she chattered excitedly to Mapi about what she and Ingrid had gotten up to yesterday, explaining her experience of drinking a hot chocolate in such depth that Mapi wondered how long she had been concocting this story.

They stopped in at a small café for lunch on the way, trying to stall their walk so Alexia would be there before them and also so they wouldn't have to try feed her when she was inevitably excited about her brand new puppy that she had been thinking about for months.

But the anticipation was worth it as soon as she saw her godmother holding a lead that was attached to a little golden puppy, running around excitedly with it's ball.

The expression on Isabel's face was worth more than anything they had ever brought, her entire face lifting up, a smile that showed off her complete set of teeth as she spun around to look at her mother and Ingrid.

"Mami, Ingrid, is that-" It was like she didn't want to tempt fate by asking the question, just in case the dog wasn't hers.

She didn't think they would have done that to her, not in the slightest.

"Ale has your new puppy, Is. You can go say hello."

But the child didn't run to the puppy immediately as the couple had expected, instead charging into her mother first, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard and thanking her over and over again, moving to do the same to Ingrid not long after.

"Of you go, Is, go meet your puppy!" Ingrid grinned as she nudged her away, watching on with joy as the toddler practically sprinted down to the puppy who immediately jumped up onto her, covering her face with wet kisses.

"I think we made the right decision." Mapi looked at Ingrid hesitantly, aware that this still wasn't ideal for the Norwegian.

But the expression on the brunettes face said something completely different, a huge smile stuck on her face as she watched Isabel squeal with delight at her new dog, the happiest she had ever seen her.

"No, Maria, this was the right decision. Definitely."

Mapi beamed, leaning into her girlfriend's side and wrapping her arm around Ingrid's waist.

"She's so happy."

Alexia approached them not long after, her hand still holding onto the leash.

"I believe this is yours now." She smiled, holding it out to Mapi. "I can't believe anyone tried to deny her of this."

Mapi rolled her eyes, grabbing the leash, completely sick and tired of Alexia's argument about how dogs are so much better than cats.

"Is loves Bagheera too, she's just a dog person."

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head.

"No goddaughter of mine will ever be a cat person."

They continued to watch Isabel with the puppy right until she walked back over to her three adults, the dog following dutifully behind her.

"Mami, I want to call her Baloo, Bagheera's friend! Can I call her Baloo?"

Mapi smiled easily, using her spare hand to stroke her daughter's head.

"Of course you can call her Baloo, I love it."

~~~~~~

alright hope you enjoyed!

(I may or may not have given up on editing this after five minutes so it’ll probably be edited in the morning)

let me know what you think and let me know what else you want to see

have a good day!!

[trafficblrpositivityproject]

The queue is empty right now! After several hundred asks, I am all out! (✨0✨)

I would like to send out a thank you from me to all of you. Thank you all for helping me out with this project and uplifting other members of the fan base. Thank you for sharing this blog’s introductory post and helping me on my mission. Thanks to everyone who has sent in asks about me and this project. This blog literally cannot function without the help and love from all of you, so I thank you for helping me keep it running so far!

This project will continue for as long as you are willing to send in asks to it! If you have been thinking of submitting an ask, now is the time!

If you want some ideas, here are things you can send asks about.

• Your favorite artists and writers, of course! You are all very good at this so far. If you want to specifically highlight certain pieces or art or writing, go ahead! I will not take links or imbedded images—I do not want to be reposting or accidentally open the door for people to send me spam links—but if you want to describe them, that would be fine.

• Creators of less “popular” types of media like cosplay, songs, collages and web weaves, textiles, and anything else I’m missing! These art forms do not always get as much attention, so all the more reason to send them love!

• Your favorite theorists and analysts! Share about your favorite theories as well, and why you like them!

• Your friends! “My friend [URL] is really cool” is a very good ask! Not everyone submitted here needs to be a creator, or be here because they’re a creator. I do not want people to think that this blog is just for people who are “famous,” anyone can submit asks about anyone for any reason.

• Similar, people who have supported you. Friends who brought you into the series, people who regularly leave nice tags and engage with your work. Send some love back to the people who have been cheering you on!

• Events and zines! The fandom could not survive without the work of event weeks/months and zines. And I definitely do not mind being free advertising for the events and zines you all are in ;)

• Former members of the fandom who are no longer active or have moved fandoms. If they used to enjoy life series and have since moved on, they still count.

And I will remind you I am perfectly happy to take submissions on people with a degree or two of separation from trafficblr. Hermitblr and Empiresblr accounts, or bloggers posting about other overlapping SMPs and series like POW and MCC. Or participants in fan made Life Series. As long as there is some sort of overlap, I will not be fact checking.

Repeating the same person who has already been submitted is also fine. If you wanted to send me the same person every single day for a month I would not stop you. Just keep your ask positive and include fewer than 5 people, and we are golden.

All I want is to make this fandom a little more positive. I thank you all again so much for helping me so far, and if this is as far as I go, I will feel very satisfied with how we have done.

Thank you again, everyone, from the ferryman! <3

[arinzu]

My Headcannons for Yoichi Isagi, Rin itoshi and Alexis Ness💕

Part 1 l part 2

Might not be accurate

💗💗💗

Yoichi Isagi :

✿He took a photo once of his hair slick back and his fan went absolutely feral.

✿He time to time stalks Rin to observe what he does.

✿Isagi probably stares at the ceiling when he's about to sleep and think about all of the opportunities he missed.

✿If he played any other sports it would be chess, since his vision is great for mental games.

✿Tbh is he was a sin he would be greed/gluttony.

✿If he could ask anything from his parents, it would be to have a little sis.

✿Does skin, body and hair care every few days.

✿Swears in videos games often. Those little brats think they're so gOoD but once isagi finishes his puzzle he'll devour them

✿Tried to hit Kaiser in the head with the ball after a practice match, but Noel Noah was there

✿Gossips with kurona and hiori about kaiser and ness, It's perfect since kurona doesn't know what they're doing but hiori has a lot of dirt on them.

Boyfriend Headcannons💤

♡Plays football w/ u and teaches you by beating you, not even to destroy your self esteem.

♡ such a sweetheart while you are on your menstrual cycle (if you're a girl)

♡ gossip about every teammate with you, like a whole book of players he wants to gossip to you about

♡ once you were sick, he drove to the local store at 2 am just for you. He's so sweet.

♡ Cooks very well like he'll cook food decently

♡ Not that toxic? Maybe that's probably up for debate

♡tells you about his problems like it's the national news to be discuss

♡ Has that romantic playlist he made just for you and him to enjoy.

♡Due to being in blue lock he hasn't texted you often so in return he tries to send gifts every month

♡ Calls you darling and sweetheart multiple times a day

Rin itoshi

✿Drools in his sleep (Me too Rin)

✿I feel like he'll stand awkwardly in a party not even interacting with anyone

✿Is good at cleaning, not barou level but up there

✿Perfect grammar, also TOP at his English

✿Never uses any gen-z/alpha slangs or any type of slang infact

✿Dry ass texter...

✿Gets really weirded out by any of his THOSE fangirls/fanboys... Like wdym you wanna have the reproduction LIKE HE'S ONLY 16

✿Knows knife play at some point, don't ask him why (he doesn't know)

✿Artistic in secret... Like he'll paint the beach or anything that shows the happy times of him and sae

✿Gets nightmares of that day... (Pretty sure everyone has that headcannon by now)

Boyfriend Headcannons💤

♡Cuddles every time he gets a chance with you. That kinda prevents him from getting those dreams....

♡ even if he's not as romantic as the others, you guys still go on weekly dates and THEY are expensive or just casual date like movie date🫶

♡After getting traumatized by sae, he almost broke up with you, Thank goodness, that you manage to make him snap out of it.

♡ After getting convinced by your and his parents he went to couple counseling and saw his mistakes

♡One of his favorite things to do with you is Playing football, I mean two things he loves in one? Count him in!

♡ Bring extra clothes with him whenever you're around, just in case it gets cold and he doesn't need to give you his hoodie.

♡Does not have much of a soft spot for you BUT, his eyes sparkle whenever he sees you like the good old times

♡ Almost made you cry when you both were on a movie date, it was those scary ahh movies that you don't know what's coming next.

♡Has a separate Love notebook from his early days of middle school that he reads when he misses you.

♡Calls you lukewarm as a word of affection when he sees you

Alexis ness

✿Would probably be in good terms with isagi if it didn't end like this

✿Has a mental breakdown every few days because of kaiser paying too much attention to isagi

✿Makes Kaiser a birthday cake every year and even bought him EXPENSIVE stuff from his hometown

✿Keeps the magician outfit he had when he was just a child, he cherish it like it's the most valuable thing in the whole universe

✿Would be friends w/ Charles if they interacted more, I mean like opposite friends, Ya'k

✿If richer than his awful siblings back home, if not then... It's because of the plot.

✿If he didn't met kaiser he'll probably be better than what he is now.

✿Has surprisingly good fashion taste, It's better than most blue lockers I can tell you

✿Has that changing color book lamp at the side of his bed he use when he's upset or just sad

✿He would like science if it weren't for the fact of his childhood

Boyfriend Headcannons 💕

♡Is actually quite the gentleman to you and your family members, since he a very toxic household

♡Always makes your favorite dish, if he doesn't know the recipes he'll find it by your guardian/ by how you like it.

♡Gives you a lot of gifts, I MEAN A LOT like everyday you'll find things that you enjoy at your doorstep

♡Due to being away from blue lock, he gets awfully jealous of the boys around you. Even if it's just a friend

♡Husband material frfr

♡ Punch a dude that was making you uncomfortable, and then ran with you to flee the scene.

♡Prefers the value of affection than the materialistic value of a gift you give him

♡ Loves being the small spoon but if you want, he can be the big spoon, anything for his precious angel.

♡Yandere tendency!!! Whether a girl or boy, he will get jealous if you spend more attention on them than him!

♡Call you angel or any kind of German words of affection, he will use it

That's it y'all💋

Thank you for reading this! It too me longer than expected!

So thank you for staying till the end even tho it was just 3 blue lock characters!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

can we have villain kenji dating headcanons please😞🙏

Oh boy...well, I can try

Villain! Kenji x Fem reader

Mentions of blood, fighting (not with you), and death/character death (not you), you being morally grey...and Kenji being a simp.

He's a complete sweetheart to you and WORSHIPS the ground you walk on. Ever heard of a feminist nut-case? It's him. He respects you wholeheartedly and sees you for you because his mama raised him right.

Super gentle and a soft-talker with you. You're...actually the ONLY person he's like this around. To everyone else, arrogant prick x10 on a regular basis.

He likes to cuddle you after a long day and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear. "I missed you so much" "I love you so much, baby" "stay with me, please" cue the cutest goo goo eyes you've ever seen. How could you say no to him?

This man doesn't know when to stop gifting so whenever he even THINKS about something you would like you better prepare for there to be a box of whatever product it is on your doorstep.

Gamer girl? New gaming equipment in your favorite color. Book girl? New books on your doorstep. Baker, artist, crafter? All of it on your doorstep.

You ask for something? Consider it done. You LOOK at something in the mall? It's yours.

If he thinks a certain outfit would look good on you or he finds a certain candy, you like? All yours...just please don't leave him.

Ken lets you ride on his motorcycle from time to time. He prefers you in the back with your arms wrapped around him because it's a comforting feeling, not to mention safe. But if you want, he'll let you sit in the front but it's rare.

A guy cat-called you once while Kenji was there with you. Yeah uh...that guy was sent to the hospital. It was the first time you've ever seen him so...angry. You've heard rumors of Kenji's temper but seeing as he was so sweet to you, you just thought the rumors were just...rumors.

That was until you literally had to pull him off the guy so he wouldn't kill him. Seriously, he was strangling him after punching him in the face 10 times.

It was...kind of hot to be fair.

Kenji's hair was disheveled, his nose bleeding, and a fiery look in his eyes. And you found his act of rage a little sweet. If he was willing to strangle a guy for just catcalling you, what would he do if a guy touched you?

You then realized you found a good guy who's willing to stand up for you! Albeit a bit crazy, but still a good guy.

After his anger went away, the soft side of him came back and apologized to you profusely.

"I- I'm so sorry baby, p- please don't leave! Y- You were never supposed to see that side of me, shit! I'm a good guy I promise I am! He...he just, he deserved it! He shouldn't have been talking to you like that! You're a princess to me baby, a queen! And you deserve to be treated like one...please don't leave me..."

He meant every word of it girl...every. last. word. Especially the "don't leave me" parts.

Before you came along, Kenji was alone. So utterly alone. His beloved mother was dead. His father....ugh (don't even get him started on that). No friends or relatives to talk to or come by. One-night stands didn't do anything except a couple seconds of bliss.

So, like I said, so completely and utterly alone.

But when you came along...you changed that. An angel from the heavens that chose him to spend their time with.

This man would let the world burn if it meant to save your life. He doesn't like people very much anyway.

He introduced you to Lillith, his black IBM female boa. Let's pretend you like snakes.

Snake ahead, TRIGGER WARNING

You find her absolutely adorable and sweet. She likes you a lot too! You let her hang around your neck or arm when Kenji brings her too your dates or when you hang out at his house.

Kenji loves that his two favorite girls are getting along. He has many pictures of you two chilling in his phone and looks at them from time to time to actually feel something other than anger or nothing while he's out.

You brought back a light in him that he thought had died a long time ago. A reason to live...well, apart from baseball, killing Kaiju's, and ruining his father's legacy of course.

Fancy dining places are a must. You can't blame the man for want to wine and dine you...and showing you off to the press a little bit.

Hmmm...you found it odd that the guy that cat-called you hasn't pressed charges or uttered a peep about what ken did to him. You understood why the news hadn't caught footage of the incident tho.

It happened late at night when you and Kenji were coming out of a bar. It had been raining that night and most of the lights went out due to the water getting to the electricity.

So, it would be hard for the cameras to pick up faces very well due to the darkness and most of them circuiting out too.

But it was so strange...nothing from him.

You got your answer when you turned the news on though.

The guy that cat-called you was found dead in a trash bin next to the EXACT same bar you had your date with Kenji. Ishima Agama was his name.

He seemed to have suffered horrible lacerations, burns, severed limbs, and much other nasty things.

His death...didn't bother you though. You figured Kenji must've done it. I mean...who else would've done it? It only happened two weeks after Kenji pummeled him, and it was in the exact same place it beat his ass.

You always trusted your gut and your gut says it's Kenji. But instead of seeing this as a red flag, you saw it as a green one!

He killed for you just because of a cat-calling degenerate. That's the nicest thing a guy has ever done for you!

After dating for about a year or so, he told you that he was Ultraman! Which...is the coolest freaking thing ever!

He saved Japan from Kaiju's countless of times! So, what if his methods were a little violent? The Kaiju's were too. That's how violent animals were supposed to be treated right? Either with sedatives or brute force.

He was so confused as to why you were so cool with it but as you explained your reasons...he knew you were a keeper.

After that little adventure he introduced you to the idea of Kaiju meat. Something Kenji has tailored to him and a few other rich people (let's pretend Kaiju's don't have radiation). Turns out the KDF also sells a few cutlets of meat to a few rich folks who want a taste of a rare "delicacy" meat.

It's actually quite good when it's cooked and served right, better that wagyu.

Sooo, yeah, you two lovebirds get along great!

His anger issues, arrogance, or murderous tendencies to affect you because you love him for who he is...and for the fact that he never acts that way toward you.

That's all I've got, if you guys want anything more specific, lmk!

[mellosdrawings]

I'm feeling like rambling about AI on main, ignore me if it's not your cup of tea.

So a while ago, I did check out those art prompts AI, because when I pester about something, I like to know what I'm rambling about. I like to do a minimum of research and, if possible, try the thing out before making my opinion. For AI art, my opinion was already pretty solid, but I still wanted to check it out.

I found a free prompt stuff online, asked it a super easy prompt, and asked for a handful of different images. Just to see.

The prompt was [character tripping]. Really. Super easy, right? I wanted the thing to have as much liberty as possible.

It's not just that though. I chose this prompt because it is something I did in art school. Our teacher would give us simple prompts, and we would have to draw doodles in 5 minutes or less. Imagine a class of 15 exhausted art students full of caffeine being told to draw someone tripping.

The 15 art students' results? Little boys tripping over tree roots, teenage girls falling while rollskating, business men tripping on their papers and burning themselves with coffee, old ladies cracking a hip, comical falls backwards with a leg up, realistic falls forward with pained expressions, etc etc.

See, our fast doodles weren't any better than AI anatomically speaking. We were missing hands and our faces were distorted and a foot was bigger than another, things that are also common with AI. But the DIVERSITY. I remember being flabbergasted by it. We all had the same prompt, but none of us drew the same thing. I remember drawing the good old banana peel slip from the old comics I read when I was a kid. My best friend drew a kid falling in mud.

We did several prompts like that as training, and I always loved to see what everybody was doing, because it was always so different.

Now, here was the AI result: 5 anime girls in a running position at an angle, making shocked pikachu faces. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. The angle and the running poses were the only things that changed, and even then just slightly.

The AI only did 5 times the same stuff. Art style changed a bit from one to the other, but always the same vibe, always the same composition, and always that godsdamned shocked pikachu face. It was very underwhelming.

I don't care about perfect anatomy and lighting. But I care about creativity. I love seeing things that I would never have thought to do myself. And the AI didn't provide that at all. Coz AI has no creativity whatsoever. If you don't further your prompt to be very specific, it will just reheat the same bland stuff again and again. It's just boring.

I have a lot of grievances about AI. Art theft, environmental blunder, artists being paid even less than they already were (as if people and companies suggesting to pay us in visibility wasn't bad enough). But even on an emotional level there's nothing. Yes, it's great to see one's character/idea brought to life when one cannot draw. But it'll be the blandest stuff ever. That's just a shame.

[x-ghostslovie-x]

I have an idea ✋ Logan with a artistic partner. Whether they are a dancer, singer, whatever. He would be the MOST supportive man ever. He'd go to every performance, every gallery showing, you name it he's there. The whole "That's my partner" to a random stranger thing

Ooo I love this!

Logan Howlett With A Singer / Song Writer S/O Headcannons

I ended up writing this as headcannons. I wrote this with a fem reader in mind (I'm female), but I'm pretty sure this could be read as gn as well. I also wrote this to fit any version of Logan. Hope you like it 🩷

Logan never misses a performance.

He loved hearing your voice.

Whether that be talking or singing, he could listen to you all day every day.

Watching you come alive on stage and seeing you smile is the highlight of his day.

The second best thing is when you run over to him when the show is over and it's time to go home, you always give him the biggest hug and he loves it so much.

He owns all of your albums.

Absolutely will not let you give them to him for free.

HE IS BUYING THEM no exceptions.

He know how how hard you work, not only on writing the songs in the first place but also actually bringing them to life in the recording studio.

Speaking of the studio, he feels like he is in heaven when you invite him to watch you record your singing. It's so raw, he adores the emotion you put into your songs.

He is so incredibly proud of you.

Logan smiles so much at your shows and just being with you in general. Even when you're not singing or on stage, he can't help it.

He's never been this happy before.

Logan will absolutely brag to the person standing next to him, saying,"That's my partner!"

His nickname specifically for you is Nightingale because of your sweet singing voice.

Other nicknames include angel, princess, baby, babydoll, sweetheart and darlin

You tend to talk Logan down after he's had a nightmare.

You're very good at grounding him.

Sometimes, when Logan has had a particularly bad nightmare, he will ask you to sing for him and how could you refuse.

✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️ ✨️

I wrote a little thing that fits in with these headcannons. Reader sings to Logan after he's had a nightmare.

[arminsumi]

so happy you're writing for gojo and getou!! You make my day fr <3

Thinking of ex getou hc... he annoyingly drapes himself over you like your not broken up, still brings you lunch and snacks when he knows your craving them, hugs you for way too long Infront of other men until you break and take him again <33

He would not be afraid of being toxic if it ment getting you back

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒꒱ ex-boyfriend

GETO x f.reader

A/N: i am in pieces at the word choice 'drapes' 😩 thank you for your request — so happy i can make your day 💗 i kinda... wrote an excessive amount srry if i deviated a bit i was in a real suguru state of mind

♪ NOW PLAYING: don't blame me, your love made me crazy

Wc: >900

Overview; Suguru just can't let you go. His mad love reels you back into his arms.

Content; fluff, (ex.bf) headcanons

Warnings; light toxicity, light obsessiveness/possessiveness (?), jealousy, he doesn't let you leave

arminsumi's library

— He is the definition of the "I'm not her ex" ex-boyfriend. Anyone who asks "Did you two split?" will be met with a firm "No. We're just working things out." from Geto before you can even open your mouth to speak.

— Soft, good-smelling, and good-looking; his aura permeates through the air of your apartment as soon as he walks in. He unashamedly invited himself over and said "Aren't you lonely without me? C'mon admit it. I'll make some tea, do you want? Okay then, I'll make you one anyways."

— Behind those abyssal eyes are all his unchanged feelings for you; his one and only. He can't move on. You have a death grip on his mind; he thinks about you in the shower, on the road, walking to the store, while shopping. Daydreams of you are plastered throughout his routines.

— He engulfs you in a consuming hug and peers down at you with a tender look. He's so much bigger than you; the broadness of his shoulders are laughable in comparison to yours. "Missed you, baby." he says, usually pressing a kiss to your cheek (smirking when you swat him away like a fly), and he says that a lot; you can feel the weight in each word.

— Of course... when in front of other men, his hugs seem to get clingier. Heavier. Longer. More possessive. He hangs on your body as if he's the clothes on your back. His scent lingers on you.

— Still lends you his oversized T-shirts and insists that you wear them before heading out for coffee with your coworker, Gojo. Asks for 'proof' pics that you really are wearing his shirt.

— He calls you by the nickname you always favored, the one that had the power to weaken your knees to the point of falling to them. Paired with that silken, dangerously attractive voice and the yearning glint in his eyes, you're a goner.

— He's always been able to read you like an unravelling scroll. As if you're a painting and he's an artist, he knows every brush stroke that creates an artwork like you.

So when you push him away, he knows that you actually want him to hold you tight. When you tell him to give up, you actually want him to try harder. And when you shakily answer no to his inquiry about "Do you still feel for me?" he knows you actually mean yes.

— Leans in to whisper something in your ear when you've got company or guests over at a party. He loves forming a barrier of intimacy between you and him in a public setting; he thinks that they should all witness how capable he still is of flustering you. His heart lurches when you react to his whispers with the same swooning smile as you did in high school.

— He pops up at your workplace, "I got you your favorite." he says with a smooth smile that you instantly succumb to.

— He selfishly drags you back into his arms like Hades mythically dragged Persephone back into the underworld.

— You want to move on from him ? Nope, not happening. He's dead set, completely determined, to dig his way back into your heart.

— Needles of jealousy prick his chest when he sees you laughing because of someone else. He can't stand that, not even for a second, so he invades the conversation and plucks you out of it like you're a gemstone lost among rocks in a dirty river.

"Let's go." he says, "Go where?" you ask, but he whisks you away without answering.

— Honest to god, if he could snatch you away and trap you in a castle, he would. In fact, he can, minus the castle — but his penthouse will have to do 🤷‍♀️

A few lavish invitations to dinner at his place lead to you sleeping over like how you used to. It's all part of his grand scheme. "Baby, come back to me." he murmurs into your hair. "This house is so cold without you."

— Come the morning, you're readying yourself to leave for coffee with your coworker again. Stupid Sunday tradition, Geto hated it. No, he despised it; it made his head spin with anger.

"I've got to go... Suguru?" He blocks your path down the hallway, his silhouette giving hint to his serious frown. It's dark in the hallway, but not darker than his eyes.

"You're not gonna let me leave, are you?"

"No." He admits heavily. "Come on, don't look at me like that; I love you. You'll be safe here. You know what, tomorrow I'll make you your favorite for breakfast, doesn't that sound nice?"

— All these sweet words are said in a smooth, murmuring voice... while his veiny hands firmly plant on the front door and force it shut with a startling bang after you attempted to open it.

"Stay." he demands in a threatening, low voice. "Please?" he lightens it at the end, aware of how scary that probably sounded.

— He's wrapping you around his finger like how he did in the beginning. You coil around his life until, without realizing soon enough, you're back in it.

— Just like that, his love ensnares you once more, and you're happily trapped in his big strong arms.