#Maybe I will bc there's more of a time disconnect but like. I want to be scared not laugh and side w the killers idk man

[lights-at-night]

i might be shot but tbh i think fiction podcasts have an issue with racial representation

[butteryunlikelylady]

it was never my life to live and he didn’t fall for the real me… he fell for an accessory and thought he could just change the label while things stayed the same

[thecherrygod]

/

[kurthorton-moving]

feeling very 🧍‍♂️ may not be around for a bit

[termagax]

anyways. i feel like ive said this before but i think that wouldve been a bigger concern of his when he was younger and was trying to think abt how he was gonna like. live in the world. well and then the world exploded and he decided he could do whatever he wants forever and started larping as his fursona and i think hes chill about it now. like i think hes okay.

[windupaidoneus]

now some people may not like to hear it but even the worst people who exist are still people & there is no human being who has More right than others to decide whether others deserve to live or die (does not mean i personally condemn murder in self defense or anything of the sort or killing fascists or whatever i'm just saying as a baseline This Is How it Is) & this is why the death penalty is not a good thing no matter how good & trustworthy the people in any government might be. people on average also deserve the chance to learn to do better. & no, someone who's been forcefed propaganda their entire life will not let go of that deeply entrenched mindset so easily, it's not particularly unrealistic & it absolutely sucks to deal with but in the context of tangibly working toward world peace it's also not an issue to try & help such people both in material ways & in helping them learn better rather than cut them down or abandon them to a grim fate. all this to say that's why i don't think garlemald is written badly, as unpleasant as the experience might be. walks off the stage

[zoekrystall]

Just ranting abt horror tropes and how I am picky

Love how that layout change kicked me more into spooky mood again but man I fucking hate how much ableism is in horror movies. I forgot why I don't watch horror movies at like all since forever but adore horror in gen until I searched for ones without any ableist shit in them. If it isn't physical seen as creepy it's the narcissist/sociopath/psychopath villain trope and I want to start strangling producers. The last one I watched was skinamarink and that was like my first one in forever next to an old japanese one like two three years ago w a friend. Will prob rewatch otgw and some classic horror movies. Maybe when focus watch some anime w horror elements. Since like. Getting me to be scared is anyways hard nowadays I consume horror games all year round (albeit only through let's plays). Also idk if it just seems like that or if I got bad luck there but a lot I did want to check out bc of people saying how oh so brutal they are always got rape scenes when I checked which is an immediate no and I just I'm tired man. Also yes I like survival horror I like resident evil silent hill ofc I like a lot of horror game classics but like. Those aren't creepy imo. Those don't evoke the same fear. I want psychological fucked up horror cmon. Gore is cool and I do enjoy it but less in a creepy more in a "yay! ♡" way like sometimes murder makes me feral like an animal. Which is anything but being scared. Like I want to be the one murdering them I want to sink my teeth in and violently shake my head! If you can understand german the youtuber corrupted got pretty much the same taste as me. Back to movies and shows I think the problems also is I just prefer games way more. It's so different just watching people being in a situation vs having to control them maybe even having choices to dif endings and all (even just watching a let's player evokes it enough). Fear and hunger is amazing! 1 and 2! I watched the vods by cdawgva and the game has a neat story characters designs etc. But like. In regs to scary is it not what I exactly want. I bet if I would play myself would I dislike it bc I hate fighting and all. I think bc it touches on the psyche n all is it one I def like more but ig it's more the worldbuilding than the game itself? And then it's for me a yknow horror game but not a scary game. Idk how to explain it maybe a scary game is also just not possible for me and if that is the case then I mean? Fear and hunger nailed it a lot I think. I think I start to analyze automatically more than just let myself be spooked without my brain constantly thinking abt the setting. I mean I like a lot of horror rpg maker games bc of the story setting n all. I think I just enjoy what I enjoy but man is it a shame to only be scared once in a full moon nowadays. I think the suspense is v important? Joey said on a trash taste ep I watched yesterday how a lot of japanese movies nail it w you think there will be smth but then there's nothing so you are constantly on your guard. Maybe that's why if I do I usually watch japanese horror movies. Ik I def don't like when the hard stuff like immediately drops. Def hard to pick my horror taste apart oof.

[somewhereincairparavel]

just thinking about how Jason grace had his entire life molded from the day he was born, nothing in his life was authentic, even his own name was an offering to appease a goddess.

he also died being so distant from everyone he knew (don't get me wrong, I know he was friends with the 7, but If I'm being realistic here and go by canon, only Leo and Nico were actually "close" with Jason, and maybe Percy a bit) I mean, Annabeth took a long time to warm up to Jason and didn't trust him, Hazel never quite forgave jason for mistrusting nico (I'm still a lil bitter about this one lol bc she easily forgave Leo simply bc he's Sammy's great grandkid, and Leo's kinda the one who initiated the suspicion in the first place yet she got so mad at Jason for simply laying out the arguments and exerting caution?? Yeah I know she was upset that her brother was in danger but she never even gave Jason a chance even after nicos rescue, I'm not tryna blame Leo or anything but I think they BOTH should've been forgiven equally, esp since Jason's encouragement in house of hades fuelled nico to break out of his shell), Frank saw of Jason as more of a hero and looked up to him (still avenged his death tho so big W), Piper dumped him and canonically was outwardly bitchy/a little hostile to him after the breakup.

EVEN coach hedge and mellie were such jerks to him bc they assumed HE dumped Piper. Still wished Piper made it clear to them that the break up wasn't Jason's fault but ofc she didnt. TOA Piper is such an L

He never saw Leo again and never got to spend the summer with Nico in camp half blood like he planned to. His dad is a jackass and didn't shed a single tear at his death, his sister had her own life and he felt like she didn't need him anymore.

Reyna, Jason's childhood friend grew distant from him bc of her romantic feelings + the whole Venus mess (which is no fault of her's tho, mind you)

He never felt "at home" in camp Jupiter even after he got his memory back because all he did over there was military duties.

I don't think he got his full memory back properly either because, Percy had the gorgons blood but he didn't. I'm speculating this because he still felt very disconnected to Camp Jupiter and Rome.

He never got to do what he wanted, and even if he succeeded in defeating Caligula, jason STILL never would've gotten freedom, since he promised the minor gods that he'd build temples on their behalfs, and was Prontifex Maximus. He made a diorama and everything.

His Greek friends never made it to his funeral. They never got to say goodbye.

and as Apollo noted, he died with his fingers pointing, like he was still telling them all to escape without him. His chest was spewing out blood and jason still plucked up the energy to tell tempest to get Apollo and Piper to safety.

Jason Grace was born a Roman soldier, and died a Roman soldier, full circle. He never became a grandpa to his and piper's grandchildren like he wanted to.

[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!

[pyrodolls]

yandere kung lao I’m begginf,,,,

self aware! yandere kung lao x reader pt.1

warnings: mk1 story mode spoilers, obsessiveness, gender neutral reader, ooc kung lao, self aware kung lao

summary: kung lao is aware he is in a video game, and he just loves you so much. he just wishes he didn’t have to be behind a screen.

a/n: anon im so sorry it took me a bit to get to this, anyways i decided to mix it up and make kung lao self aware bc i thought my yandere hcs were getting too repetitive and i am also a diehard SAGAU fan. (also sorry for my mini break, finals week is crazy man.)

part 2

- kung lao *hated* being stuck behind a screen. behind a stupid wall. away from you.

- you were just a regular mortal kombat fan. when mortal kombat 1 was announced, you were just so excited to get your hands on the game.

- you watched playthroughs before you could buy the game, and you were so happy when you found out that you could play as kung lao in the first chapter of story mode.

- when you got your hands on the game, you noticed that every time he had a funny one-liner in the story mode, he would look at the camera and wink. that’s weird… he didn’t do that in the playthroughs you watched… but oh well, it’s probably nothing.

- in the final battle you even chose to play as kung lao out of all the fighters. he was surprisingly easy to use, and his moves seemed to hit even harder than usual and the fights would be over in a blink of an eye. maybe he was buffed just for the fights?

- and when you finished the story mode and checked out all the skins and rewards you got, you noticed that you somehow had all of kung lao’s stuff unlocked. all of his palettes, skins, brutalities, etc. everything. you owned all of it. even the ones that weren’t out yet.

- you thought it was just a glitch, so you shut your device down and restarted it. but when you opened it again, his stuff was still there.

- and it got even weirder. when you tried to practice, the game only let you use kung lao. for some reason, you couldn’t use any other fighter. you couldn’t even use any kameo other than kung lao.

- he was still your favorite character and all, but that was weird. you tried to exit out of the game and restart it again, but it wouldn’t shut down. the game stayed on. it was frozen on kung lao. and he seemed to just stare at you. as if he knew you were there.

- you were starting to get creeped out, so you completely powered off your device and decided to leave it disconnected overnight.

- but over that little period of time, even though it was only a few hours to you, it felt like an eternity for kung lao.

- he felt hurt. a bit betrayed, even. did you not like him anymore? was he not enough for you? he gave you everything he could. he did everything he could to show his love for you, since he cannot communicate any other way.

- without you playing the game, he felt nothing. he couldn’t feel your warmth. it was nothing but a cold, dark space. he needed you. he needed you to always be with him. even if he couldn’t communicate with you, he’d figure something out.

- that’s why he was changing the coding of the game. he had to always be on your screen, or at least give you hints that he was self aware. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you weren’t looking at him. if you weren’t using him all the time.

- what do you mean you want to main johnny cage? or raiden? or even syzoth? what do they have that kung lao doesn’t?

- you liked the powerful fighters? no worries, he can just nerf everyone else and completely manipulate the coding of the game so he has the best damage.

- you thought the other fighters were more attractive than him? he’ll change the game so their designs were ruined and less pleasing to your eye.

- he would mend himself to your liking. he just needed you to use him. please make him feel important and useful. make him feel worthy of being your main. your favorite.

- if anyone became your favorite instead of him, he would go ballistic. he would rethink his entire existence. he’s so strong, and funny, and easy to use. so why would you choose anyone else? what’s wrong with him? is he not enough for you?

- if kung lao found out you wanted to start using a different fighter, he would erase them from the game. they would be nowhere to be found. their image in the game would be warped into a bunch of blurry pixels.

- if he has to erase the entire kast of fighters, he will. he needs your love. he needs your attention. if he isn’t your favorite, then what is the point of his existence in the game?

- kung lao needs you. and you need him too. why can’t you see that? he’s done everything he could to gain your approval. he was already so great, but he changed himself for you. accept him. please.

- the last thing he would resort to is bringing you in the game with him. what better way to stay by your side, than force you into the world of mortal kombat?

- at first, he didn’t exactly like the thought of taking away your freedom, but the more he thought about it the more he craved your company. why stay behind your screen when he can just bring you with him? now, you don’t have to turn your device on and off! he’s not going anywhere. and you aren’t either.

[the-moon-files]

So I have tried to request this prompt from someone else but I don't think their blog is that active anymore. If your willing I'd love to request the following.

Prompt: Reader is bisexual and gender neutral.

Reader is considered fairly attractive and gets flirted with pretty often by basically whoever gender wise. And maybe reader and Zelda even end up flirting a little bit. Reader would have a similar lackadaisical flirty personality as Warriors has.

I wanted to see how each of The Chain would react to this with the context of them having secret feelings for the reader.

2nd official request, woo look at me go 🏃💨

Sun: Gender-neutral Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Zelda (Assuming they meant BOTW), + the classic Chain of Links <3

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, mild typical loz violence, Mildly Suggestive, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

so i like to think that modern flirting is radically different than their medieval flirting,

like mayyybbeee Wild can handle it, but even then, they have royalty/knights still, so hes still gettin flustered lol

and i like to think u learned that difference the first time Wars complimented ur new/strange modern fit, and u returned the energy?? except 10x stronger (to them)??

youve played the player, and beat him at his own game, the Captain of the knights is sputtering and shit LMAO

(he said smth like, “their beauty is god-like in this otherworldly clothing“ and YOU said smth like he’d “thank you, youd look better in my bed than in armor 👉 😎 👉 ” lmao)

funniest part is, bc its so natural, i can see u immediately shooting off smth and forgetting it instantly, much to the Links collective shock 😭

u go to towns and notice theres always 1 hero around to steer u away from shopkeepers, townsppl, etc so u wont flirt w/them LMAO

(when u finally notice, u just, “ohh i get it now, so im only allowed to flirt with someone named Link, ohhh, okayy” and they just, “NO we didnt say that-!” “No its just their bold flirtations are not for the weak of heart-!” “Yes.” “CAPTAIN-”)

the only one who they cant steer u away from is Zelda.

afterall, they kinda have to inform the Princess/now Queen of the kingdom, whats going on w/them traveling with Link (Wild) around time and space

the sheikah tablet had been disconnecting + reconnecting to Purah’s both fascination and worry

so as theyre invited to eat dinner and explain in the rebuilding castle, everyone’s absorbed in shadow talk or smth, and u can see Zelda’s struggling to follow along, u just casually bring it back to her, as she’s also trying to write notes and theyve moved on too quickly w/o her

“wowww, all these men and not a single one’s gonna offer the lady any, ‘hi, hello, how is the most beautiful girl in the world today?’ “

and the gapingggg from the links shut them right up, while Zelda goes all pink and coughs, and agrees that they should move on to more chill topics lol

and u can crack anybody tbh, Zelda giggles at ur compliments all the time, even in work mode, u can deffo get Wars to blush to his ears, and even Time to look away first in a flirty + staring contest lol

Legend might actually put his hands up like he’s prepared to fight u anytime u try to flirt at him when its just you two, before he realizes what hes doing and stops LMAO

oh and u absolutely get a lot of mileage out of that one lol

the best reactions have gotta be, in order of most to least extreme: Hyrule, Sky, Wild, Four, Legend, Twilight, Wars, Time

Rulie, Sky, Wild and Four fall into that classic, shocked-heart-eyes, full blush up to their pointy ears, etc category when u get them,

they are also very easy to get lmao

Four is the best at recovery, or ducking away, but if its the Colors, its this type of obvious lol, w/the obvious ones like Red and Blue, Green takes a little more to break, and tbh Vio could go toe-to-toe w/u better than Wars tbh before he crumbles under the pressure lol

Legend, Twi, Wars, and Time faces may not change a lot, bc theyre trying to save it lmao, but the way their cheeks go pink and ears twitch is how u know ur gettting to them (along w/legend’s defensive reaction to getting cornered LMAO)

Twi has caved and covered his face w/his hands before lmao

one day youll get Time to break more than an ear twitch, and looking away, One Day.

(Wind is in fact, having the time of his life, watching you absolutely hilariously wreck these otherwise v serious heroes, hes glad u got them to finally relax a little, but also its hilarious seeing Wars and Legend red faces, and occasionally stealing Wild’s tablet to take funny pics of them all to blackmail later lol)

☆

idk how good that was, as im kinda bust at flirty banter between characters, so i hope this suffices ur need to flirt w/everyone lol

also i feel i should apologize for not rlly including pronouns? it just kinda comes w/writing reader stories to put them in 2nd person to both make intimacy for readers w/their little avatar im controlling for them, and to purposefully remove the need for gendered pronouns :/

so im sorry i couldnt quite figure out how to make it where “they/them” got used much, i promise i love all pronouns, its just a skill issue tbh lmao

btw

send any prayers, blessings, or good vibes u got my way tomorrow bc im getting wisdom teeth surgery and i am intimidated✨

ill post more asks (i have multiple asks!! <33) after im lying in bed lamenting my painful fate,

mostly just worried ill react badly to the drugs, also the idea of being knocked out during surgery is a little scary so what can i say

have a great weekend guys!! thanks for reading if u did :)

Peace out,

🌙

[p0rk-guts]

He's finally done I think. WOAW! Radio demon time!!!

Okay time for comparison + breakdown rant ^ - ^ another SUPER long one I had a lot to say about this silly guy

ALRIGHT. So. Atp all that can be said has been said about Alastor but I'll gloss over it anyhow. Grossly historically inaccurate hair and clothing. Invisible deer theming. One of the main reasons he's got one of the most clowned on designs in the show is bc he's a pretty good representation of the worst it has to offer. He's absurdly red and has the waspiest waist in town. Also gotta zero in on the coat for a second bc I find it incredibly stupid that he went to that tailor bc of his coat being ripped and then left the shop with the exact same torn coat on oh goddd that felt like a complete joke who wrote this

Also his "redesign" was pointless. He stayed pretty much entirely the same except his colors got pinker and grosser and now he has this?? White trim on his lapels??? Even less 1930's accurate and it only serves to hurt the pallate in my eyes. It's the only spot of white on his entire design, it doesn't appear anywhere else so it throws it all off. And it's so bright. Is it supposed to be a focal point?? His tits????

Anyways onto my guy who I love so very deeply. I'm pretty sure sepia film was outdated by the 1930s but I gave him a palette inspired by it to emphasize how dated and stuck in old ways he is. Added blood red accents bc. Well. Cannibal murderer. Also bc I redid the sin colors so red is wrath and it seems like a fitting sin to pair him with.

After looking into 1930's men's fashion a tiny bit (thanks anon, this video was helpful!) and gave him a double breasted coat but wider and pointier so he looks a little less like just some normal guy and really emphasize how prideful and egotistical he is. "Ooo look at me I'm super big and imposing and powerfulll". I think it's a fun character trait of his. Definitely keeping it.

I liked him wearing gloves bc I feel like he wouldn't like getting his hands directly dirty and would always be covered when committing his murders. Maybe he's a germaphobe even. "I can excuse murder but I draw the line at dried blood on my skin". Also the gloves being white would contrast really well with blood so. Love that

I gave him a long tie to free him from the Vivziepop bow tie uniform and a fedora to add to the 1930's vibe and serve as something that can occasionally obscure his face in shadow. His glasses are also opaque and I imagine his eyes would rarely be shown if ever to make him seem more inhuman and off-putting, disconnecting him from personhood a bit. Wanted to add to that with his smiling mouth never opening and just being a static grin that can only occasionally widen or lessen, his voice cracking out of his "speaker" with fuzzy radio static. Seen multiple ppl use that idea and it always eats

I love Alastor's silly theatric nature (primarily in the pilot) and I'd probably keep it, but I'd add a layer of uncanny-ness to him where when he's not putting on his silly jovial facade, he gives off an unnerving vibe. Trying to appear approachable and charming and pleasant to lure people in before he's revealed to be less than human. Loveee thattt

I love Alastor being a deer. Predator becoming prey (animal) + "prey animal" lulling people into a false sense of security before striking. Love it. We should be CAPITALIZING ON IT❗So I gave him deer like legs, visible deer hooves, and more readable deer ears + the ham radio tower antenna antlers (sorry 4 calling them horns 💀)

Tried to make it a little more obvious that he's a mixed man of color by giving him dark wavy hair and the faintest hint of lip definition Viv uses in her style. I think it works. He's still not dark skinned tho

LASTLY the mic. Also not an original idea as I've seen tons of others turn it into a carbon mic but turned into a pentagram shape and I love the idea a lotttt so I joined the crew.

AND THAT DOES IT!!!! hope u like him as much as I do hehe. Just 1 supplemental doodle this time sorry :/ showing off how his face is probably obscured most of the time. He's. So hard to draw. I'm just bad at men but I'm tryinggggg guys

Alsoooo I've already finished the drawings for Niffty, Angel, and Husk! Once I've finished their breakdowns I'll add em right to the queue, and then I'll make a post with all of the main 6 together :3

[highvern]

Teach Me V

Hands on

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: fingering, mastubation, dom!reader, spitting, ass play, doggy style, facial, sex tape. Dokyeom with a praise kink pt. 2 (he's a good boy :c), unfortunately we have reached the actual angst. Poor DK gets his shit rocked :/// and everyone is upset

Length: ~7.6k

Note: picking up right where we left off in part 4 so go back and read, honestly every thing bc nothing will make any sort of sense. i think this is the longest part so far which is BANANAS but a lot needed to happen before the final part. ANYWAY! leave comments or silly tags in the reblogs, I read every single one obsessively

and because bennie aka @miniseokminnies is the number one lover of this couple, i'm giving them a shoutout for being the absolute sweetest

read more here

“Then go lock the door.”

Dokyeom nearly knocks himself out in the scramble for the door, catching himself before he can fully topple into the floor head first. You’d laugh if you weren’t just as desperate. 

With a quiet click he launches over the end of the other bed, tackling you back into the mattress to reconnect your mouths. 

Sweltering drags of sharp teeth bruise your lips, puffing them into a delicious swell before his tongue soothes them back down. If you had all the time in the world, you’d stay right where you are, bracketed beneath his arms and crushed beneath his hips. 

The damp chill of sweat blooms under your clothes, anticipating the next delicious roll of friction between your legs. Dokyeom delivers eagerly, lewdly curling his crotch against yours, echoing your moans of depravity.

“Wait,” you murmur into his mouth, stealing another searing kiss. “I haven’t told you the–” another pass of his tongue, “rules” and his teeth, “yet.”

Dokyeom moves back an inch when your finger digs into his breast bone uncomfortably. The down turn of his mouth tells you he hasn’t heard a word since “lock the door.”

“Rules, Kyeomie.”

A childish whine leaves his lips, clearly having no interest in whatever you're about to tell him as he dives back down for more kisses. His mouth drops in shock as the warm skin of your palm covers the lower half of his face. You fling it away when the wet pass of his tongue across the crease between your fingers nearly makes you falter.

“Rules?” Dokyeom eyes you skeptically from above. You wouldn’t be surprised if he stomps his foot and throws a full tantrum on the floor in the next few minutes.

“Mhmm,” you confirm, eyes dropping to follow your fingers tracing down his chest. When you brush the waistband of his pants, you look back up at Dokyeom as he stutters a breath. “Rules.”

In typical fashion, Dokyeom tries to distract you from things he doesn’t like, hoping they’re forgotten under nips of teeth and the heat of his body burning into yours. Pressing into your space, he drops his elbows to the mattress on either side of your head to leer over you. 

You forget how broad he is sometimes, but you're reminded now by the way he eclipses your view beyond his shoulders before he swoops for the kill, sucking your lower lip between his own.

Indulging in the peace of a good makeout, you let him think he’s got you where he wants you. And for a second, Dokyeom does; eager to fold you in half and give you his cock. But this is your prize and reward. Maybe you should save one of them, but patience has never been one of your good qualities. 

Slowly snaking your fingers up his neck, tickling his jaw before raking your nails through the short strands of hair at the base of his scalp. Gentle touches make him cocky, enticing him to drop more of his weight and shuffle you up towards the pillows.

A firm tug disconnects him, causing Dokyeom to yelp in surprise.

“Rule number one, I’m in charge.” You start, brushing over the patch of hair you just pulled on to calm the sensitive skin. “Rule two, no touching unless I say so.”

“I don’t like these rules.” He mumbles, pouting once again.

Laying back on the bed completely, you entice him with honey eyes and a sweet smile. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you do whatever you want. Next time.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Within reason.” You agree, shrugging your shoulders lazily. 

“And if I’m not?”

You scramble to think of a punishment, not expecting him to call your bluff so suddenly. 

“I’ll rub one out in the shower and you can listen at the door.”

Dokyeom huffs at the idea, “That’s not fair!”

“You said you’d give me whatever I want. And this is my prize for winning.” 

“Will you let me…”

“If you behave you can come anywhere you want. And I want a video of it.”

“Fuck, okay.” he nods. “What do you want me to do?”

“Take off your clothes.”

Rising to stand before you, he pulls the hem of his sweater up to reveal the soft trail of hair leading beneath his pants. When he notices you're not moving, Dokyeom cocks his head sideways. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you gonna take yours off too?”

“Hmmm, it's kinda cold. Maybe later.”

“You’re mean.”

Batting away his hand attempting to snake up your shirt, you motion for him to start again. “Yeah, yeah. Now drop ‘em.”

Standing between your spread legs, Dokyeom fists the neck of his sweatshirt. Each inch the worn navy fabric rises unveils another stretch of warm skin and clenching muscles. His stomach ripples deliciously, before his chest tightens as well. When his arms come free, he not so subtly raises them above his head in a laze stretch, monitoring your face for a reaction. 

Shaking your head, you bite back a laugh at his ridiculousness. When he spins to flash his butt as his thumbs dip into the waist of his pants, chin turning over his shoulder as his mouth puckers before one of his hands covers it, you can’t control it any longer. 

He laughs too, happily dissolving the tension in the room. 

Sweatpants hit the floor with a quiet thunk, his underwear remaining on his hips. Raising your eyebrow in a challenge, Dokyeom steps back into your space. He’s half hard under the black fabric, bulge prominent already. 

“Underwear too.”

He keeps climbing over you, pressing you back into the blanket. “Maybe later, it’s cold.”

“Kyeomie, you’re not being good.” You chide, cupping him softly in a loose fist as you rut the heel of your hand against him.

To his credit, Dokyeom tries to play it cool. But the red tips of his ears and stutter of lungs do all the talking he’s refusing to. Lending a helping hand, you free him from the cling of his boxers before digging the pad of your thumb into the weeping tip of his cock.

Bare from head to toe, you lean back to drink your fill of the sight before you. The shy twist of his lips is a laughable contrast to the rest of his body. Strong arms, hard chest, thick thighs, and a beautiful cock hardening to full mast under your gaze.

Fuck. You think with a harsh swallow.

Pulling your eyes away from ogling his body to glance at his face, you find him already watching you. Eager for your next move. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, cock twitching at the idea.

“Show me how.”

With your permission he begins palming his cock, spreading the sheen of pre-cum down the rigid shaft. But it’s not enough to fend off the unpleasant friction. 

Dokyeom’s breath labors under the twist of his wrist, flushing tip nearly purple. 

Throwing to the poor man a bone, you nudge his hand away from his cock and towards your mouth, spitting lewdly into his palm before leading it back where it was. Not one to waste time, he quickly squeezes a tight grip, hips rushing forward to work through his fist as his other hand drops to fondle his balls. On a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, Dokyeom sings a throaty groan to the ceiling as his head tips back.

Dokyeom is beautiful. Neck elongated, throat bobbing over his own obnoxiously loud grunts. Beads of perspiration slip from his temple, racing down his neck to etch a path across his chest. The shoddy lamp in the corner is bright enough to highlight the heat on his cheeks that spreads from the tips of his ears to his dusky nipples. 

There's too much to look at, but the way his stomach sucks in as his wrist twists across his head makes you feel breathless. And the vein that you love to trace with your tongue rises, webbing from his cock up to the trail of hair dusty his abdomen strings you out as much as Dokyeom feels.

You’d fucked him enough to know when he’s about to cross the point of no return. It starts with a whimpered “baby,” and a few desperate “please”s, then Dokyeom’s muscles pull tight like a frozen rubber band, more than ready to snap under the pressure.

You sit forward, close enough to feel the aura of heat cloaking his body. “Are you gonna cum?”

Dokyeom tries to deny it, shaking his head clumsily before a whimper rips from behind his teeth.

“Stop.”

Chest glistening in the light, Dokyeom gives himself one last tug before he steadying his breathing for what’s next. When you stand, the coarse fabric of your sweater covering your stomach rasping against his sensitive cock as you step into his space, he curls into the friction before calming again. Dokyeom watches you down the slope of his nose, eyes scanning your face for any betrayal of your thoughts. Your cheeks are hot, and no doubt your pupils are dilated like his but you don’t smile or crinkle your nose teasingly. Just a simple low lidded stare as you assess him.

Dokyeom’s shiver has nothing to do with the chilly air seeping into the room.

“Sit on the bed.”

A beat passess, a vague challenge against your authority, but he steps around you and takes his place at the edge of the red and blue quilt. Legs wide, arms behind him to prop him up; cheekily cocking an eyebrow.

“Start again.”

Not waiting for you to change your mind, he picks up right where he left off, finding his rhythm with ease.

But you can’t have that.

So you fall to your knees between his spread legs, eye level with Dokyeom’s cock, allowing your hands to squeeze the cords of muscle flexing around his thighs, nails biting into the bulging flesh. The sting of pain is rewarded with a squeeze of his fist around the puffy head of his cock, leaking a gooey pearl of cum for you to lick away.

Dokyeom tries to chase the brief touch but fails when you lean back out of reach. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah.” He stutters, eyes heavy as he focuses on how incredibly close and incredibly far from his cock you are.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

He nods hopefully.

“Ask nicely.”

When he fails to respond, you dig flex your fingers still on his thighs, nails leaving crescents near the crease of his hip in warning. 

A warning to who, you have no idea since Dokyeom squeezes the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming. 

“P–please.”

“I am, silly.”

You spot the indignant frustration bloom on his face, tears welling in his eyes as you tell him to beg for every last drop of satisfaction. And to rub salt in the wood, you flash our best innocent smile.

“Want your mouth.”

“My mouth? Like this?” You leave a cheap kiss on his knee.

“On my cock.”

“Oh so like this.” The same kiss on his tip, pre-cum sticking to your lips as you dive away before you can fold and give him more.

“No,” he whines, frustrated, muscles in his thighs jumping.

Dokyeom hasn’t stopped his hand, but he’s loosened his grip to stave off his organism. Teasing himself, helping you torture and edge him.

“You have to tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you, baby.”

“I can’t—,” he cries “please just—”

You wanted Dokyeom whining and needy, to string him out till he can barely think straight. And you have, but you overestimated how long it’d take. And how long you’d be able to deny yourself any pleasure either.

Rising to your feet, you loom over him. “Take off my pants.” You command, busy with removing your sweater.

Eager for the possibility of relief, Dokyeom jams you panties and underwear around your ankles swiftly. His tongue tracks along the crease above your thigh where it becomes your torso, rough palms squeezing and spreading your ass harshly as he reaches behind to press you closer.

You don’t bother with unclasping your bra, ripping it overhead along with your undershirt in haste to be naked. Scrambling for his face, you suck him into a sloppy kiss before tripping over the fabric snaring your legs and tackling him to the bed.

“You’re so fucking hot” He hisses into your mouth, bucking into your fist as you play with his cock, thumb harsh against his weep slit.

“Remember our deal.” You pant, reminding both of you what’d been agreed on outside the door.

Dokyeom sighs, the back of his head hitting the bed to observe your nude body above him. Enraptured by the endless stretches of skin. “Whatever you say.” 

A few minutes of mindless groping grants you both a reprieve. Dokyeom wedges his thigh between your legs, flexing as you grind against him, soaking him with each pitiful pass, his hands splayed wide across the meat of your ass to assist.

Two of his fingers catch on your entrance, dipping in lightly, waiting for your protest. But when your hips lift to search for firm contact, Dokyeom stuffs you full, stretching you to hopefully take his now neglected cock leaking just below his belly button.

Working up to a third finger, you ride his hand as your clit wears against the friction of his leg. Dokyeom busies his mouth with your neck, a constellation of teeth marks and bruises staining the sensitive stretch of skin. 

It almost better than fucking him. Giving freedom to the supernova building in your core, tickling the nerves of your extremities in a tease. Everything is tight; the muscles cinching his finger as he curves them, your lungs screaming for air, even the squeeze of your eyes leaves a collage of colors and static across your vision.

The sting across your scalp as Dokyeom pulls your hair, forcing your face out of hiding over his shoulder, sends a painful mewl in between you. 

He watches your mouth hang open, eyes rounding under the furl of your eyebrows. Dokyeom gives another tug when your forehead tips forward, his tongue catching your squeak of shock.

“Please cum, fuck please.” He begs into your mouth, breathy as he presses his fingers gloved inside you a fraction harder before adding his pinky. “Need it, please baby.”

His hand slips down to hold your chin between the curve of his thumb and index finger, drooling as you bite his thumb between your teeth. 

“C’mon baby,” Dokyeom grunts, rocking you forward from the gusto of his other hand. “Let me make you come.”

Wrecked moans fill the silence, breaking the band in your gut to free fall over the edge. You land on his chest as your arms give out, muscles spasming under the flood of endorphins bolting through your veins. Dokyeom doesn’t stop, arm flexing as he works through your high, a pornographic squelch echoing with each press. Darkness consumes you, floating through space as you cry from delectable torture, hips canting into overstimulation.

Squeezing your thighs together tightly, Dokyeom tries to work through the sudden barrier but stops when you bite his shoulder painfully. 

“Too much,” you whine, voice horse.

Panting in unison, you only rest for a moment before returning to your plan. Damn Dokyeom’s fingers for distracting you so easily.

Rolling to your side, he follows, waiting with baited breath at your next move.

Technically, he broke the rules. It’d been to your benefit, but misbehavior nonetheless. If you were cruel, you’d send him to the bathroom to take care of himself. But your orgasm only made you want Dokyeom’s cock more. 

You feel him crowding over you, a smatter of gentle kisses peppering your face, his thumb working against a knot in your thigh from being on top for so long. You don’t focus on the sticky discomfort between your thighs, or else you’ll be tempted to have his mouth there next and you know you’re already operating on borrowed time.

Opening your eyes, you find his brown ones staring back. He looks a little afraid.

Good.

“Kyeomie,” you chide, tutting at him.

“Come on!” he protests, mouth dropping in shock.

“You broke the rules.”

“Baby, please don’t do this to me.”

Drama queen to his core, Dokyeom won’t stop to see your failure at hiding a smirk. He riles himself up without your help, pretending to be upset was just too easy of an option.

Shaking your head disappointedly, you move to sit up. “You said you’d listen.”

“I promise I’ll be good!” He whines, slinking to the floor between your legs, hands clenched together in front of him. His cock is solid as steel, head nearing purple under the need to release. 

“Promises, promises.” You sigh.

“Do you want me to cry? Because I will. If that’s what it takes.” 

He starts rapidly blinking, trying to draw up a reserve of tears, only stopped by the press of your foot against his chest.

“Stop.” You bark, the bite from the laugh hiding in the back of your throat.

You don’t see his expression as you twist onto your stomach, rising to your knees, chest pressed in the bed to give a salacious arch to your spine.

A draft curls around your exposed cunt, causing you to squeeze and forcing more arousal to drip down your legs.

“Shit,” Dokyeom murmurs behind you.

Turning to watch him over your shoulder, you wait until he meets your heated gaze. “Make me cry, Kyeom.”

Nodding like a bobble head, Dokyeom rises, pressing into you swiftly. Sheathing himself to the hilt, he wastes no time before retreating to come back once more.

The pace is bruising, knocking the wind from your lungs. He’s so deep you swear you can feel him in the back of your throat.

‘Make me cry’ is vague enough he hesitates, afraid of breaking the rules despite the wet groans shaking in his chest.

“Touch me, Kyeomie.” You bawl, drooling on to the patchwork quilt below you.

A sting on your ass is the first blow, followed by two more. The snaps against your skin leave a hot mark behind, encouraging you to whine for more as a cold sweat clings to your spine.

“So tight, shit.” Dokyeom bites between his teeth, folding over your back to suck on your neck.

He brushes the spot he’s only ever found with his fingers, sending you into a spiral, springing tears in your eyes.

“Right there,” you pant, “fuck don’t stop.”

The headboard knocks against the wall in time with his thrusts, one knee landing on the bed to give him more leverage to fill you deeper. Dokyeom’s breath puffs against the side of your face, uneven like he’s been punched in the gut.

Ripping one of his hands away from your side, you bring his hand around your neck, eager to feel his long fingers collar you. There’s a tentative quake before Dokyeom delivers a gentle possessive squeeze, rushing to you when you choke on a noise somewhere between a groan and a sob.

You devolve into a symphony of primal grunts. Tearing himself from your back, Dokyeom twists the hand around your throat back into the hair at the base of your spine, the other hand dropping to spread your ass apart. Something wet lands on your puckered hole, his thumb grazing your rim with the added lubrication.

You realize he spit on you.

“Fuck Kyeomie, do that again.” You squeal, delighted by another swat of his hand as he gives you what you ask for.

When he whines “Gonna cum.” you stop him with a hand against his stomach.

“Please, can’t,” He whimpers, curling his hips once more, staying flush with the meat of your ass as he rocks inside you.

Eyes tight to savor the stretch, you swallow the desire to give in down with the knowledge something better waits on the other side of your demand. “Kyeomie stop.”

And with herculean effort, he steps back, soaked cock threatening to drip on the carpet as your hole tightens in mourning.

“Where’s my phone?” You ask, collapsing forward to catch your breath.

Dokyeom crouches down for your forgotten pants, searching the pockets before he finds the device.

“Here.”

Entering your passcode, you open your camera app and set it to video before passing it back.

“Wha—”

“You were good.” You explain, slipping to the floor like smoke. The hard floor stings into your knees once again before taking him in your mouth.

A series of gurgled noises flee his chest, but you open your eyes to see the camera about a foot above you, catching the way your lips stretch around his cock, your fist taking what your mouth can’t. The combination of pre-cum, saliva and your arousal floods your mouth, excess pushed out of your lips and drooling down your chin. You manage to get him settled in your throat after a few passes, delivering a harsh such on the upstroke that has Dokyeom batting you away, jacking off over your face as ropes of white land haphazardly. 

Mouth open wide and pink tongue extended, the familiar musky tang flares through your taste buds. Thankfully Dokyeom attempts to aim away from your eyes, albeit sloppily. You feel the hot stickiness across the bridge of your nose, dripping down the apples of your cheeks as it keeps coming with every slick squelch of his hand.

Thoroughly spent, he taps the head against your lips, urging you to suck him in one last time. Flashing your eyes open, you meet his over the edge of your phone as you kitten lick the sensitive head. Chasing his hips when he steps away, Dokyeom lets the camera get every angle of the magnificent mess he made before brushing his fingers across the dip of your chin, panting as you lave against them in place of his cock before smiling up at him shyly. With one last lick to your lips, he cuts the recording and tosses your phone on the bed.

“How was—”

Your question dies on your lips as Dokyeom claims them, ignore the sticky cum now drying on your face. Dragging you to stand, he pushes one hand into your hair, the other circling your waist as he tastes his spend on your tongue.

Only the desperate need for oxygen pulls you apart.

Struggling to catch your breath, his saccharine grin is a stark contrast to your activities a moment ago.

Ushering you into the cramped bathroom to clean away the mess, you find yourself in the too small stall, firmly snared in Dokyeom’s arms. Peppering endless kisses up and down the curve of your shoulder, he noses behind your ear when you hum pleasantly in his hold as he gives a firm squeeze.

But the water begins to chill before long, prompting you to wiggle free which isn’t really free at all in the compact stall. You keep him at bay with hands full of shampoo, working his hair into a faux Mohawk full of perfumed bubbles. Returning your generosity, Dokyeom soaks a washcloth in a comical amount of the cheap body wash sitting in the corner before swiping the sudsy fabric over your skin. He's surprisingly thorough, methodically working up your arms and down your chest in loose circles, focusing on your breasts before you tsk at him with a smile. A twirl of his fingers prompts you to turn so he can focus on your back. When he drops to his knees to finish, he shoulders apart your legs, dropping his mouth against the cleft between your ass and your thigh.

One hand finds your exhausted cunt, the thick gloss of fluids clinging to your folds despite your time under the hot spray of the shower head. You wait with baited breath as Dokyeom silently works, his middle and pointer finger parting your lips, forcing you on the balls of your feet when he grazes your sensitive clit. A nudge against your leg has you spinning to face him, mouth dropping open as he lifts a leg over one of his stronger shoulders to get a better look.

And then, as if a spell is broken, he drops a kiss to your hip before continuing with his rag, foamy soap lacing your legs.

“All clean.” He decrees, rising to meet you with another peck on your parted lips.

Now lukewarm water rinses away the evidence of his efforts. Still dumbfounded, you let him guide you from the stall, patting you down with a scratchy towel before wrapping his own around his waist. 

Watching each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth, skin still damp and glowing in the steam, you make an attractive pair. Exhausted, but fitting together like two perfect puzzle pieces.

The bathroom should only fit one person at a time, so the two of you are practically on top of one another as you shuffle back and forth between the sink. Dokyeom has the bright idea to lift you to the counter, standing between your legs as he watches you apply your skincare.

He’s already finished his business, but he refuses to leave your side. “What’s that do?”

“Lotion.” You respond, patting it across your face.

“Can I have some?”

“Sure.”

Grabbing the bottle to pump some in his hands, you return to find his eyes closed, offering you his face. Puffing a breath of amusement, you dab a few dots across his skin before gently massaging it in. Tracing the curve of his eye socket, down to his cheek bones, the sharp edge of his jaw. When you brush his chin, you curve two fingers around the bone, pulling him forward to meet your lips.

And the way he looks at you when his eyes open after you separate hurts. Hurts so much you slipe down from the counter, fleeing the suffocating tension of the bathroom to return to the real world of the bedroom. 

“Are you okay?” Dokyeom asks, following after you.

“Yeah!” You agree too loudly, digging around your bag for something to sleep in. “Just got lightheaded for a second.”

You know he doesn’t believe you when he mutters a skeptical, “Okay.” 

Donning a pair of boxers and a long sleeve that may or may not belong to the man behind you, you hop into bed next to him, praying he won’t hear the staccato beat of your heart.

Curling around your back, Dokyeom spoons you from behind as you both face the windows to watch the storm ragging on outside. A bolt of lightning webs through the black clouds, reflecting off the murky lake sloshing in the wind.

Despite your earlier nap, you're spent both mentally and physically. The gentle woosh of Dokyeom’s breath lulls you back across the bridge to sleep.

—

A sudden shake of the bed wakes you. The room is pitch black. Dokyeoms body is still behind you but he’s whisper-shouting at whatever the source of disturbance is. A teary whine informs you Soonyoung has decided to put himself to bed. In the wrong bed.

“Dude, get up.” Dokyeom groans, twisting to push the older man off the mattress.

You burrow further under the comforter, face squashed in the fluffy pillow under your head.

A disgusting sniffle responds, before Soonyoung moans. “You’re my best friend.”

“Thank you but you’re gonna wake her up.”

Everything is happening like you're below water, their voices muffled and miles away but you’re rising to the surface fast. If Soonyoung is the reason you can’t fall back to sleep later, you’ll wring his neck.

“Oh wouldn’t wanna inconvenience your girlfriend. Do you know how many times I’ve been woken up by you two?”

“Shut up.” A swift smack rings into the silence, followed by more drunk tears.

You feel something, or rather someone, wiggling between you and Dokyeom. Turning over to face the intruder, you open your eyes to the dark room and the shadow of Soonyoung a few inches from your face. Red as a tomato and eyes struggling to remain open.

“Hey! Hey, Y/N.” Each call punctuated with a poke to your ribs.

Huffing an exhausted breath, you humor Soonyoung in hopes he goes away. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“Do you like Dokyeom?”

You’re certainly awake now. “Huh?”

“He likes you.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dokyeom yells behind, trying to snake his hand over Soonyoung’s mouth.

“I’m just speaking the facts!” Soonyoung protests.

The waft of alcohol hangs around your face as Dokyeom successfully drags his friend from the bed. They’re wrestling on the ground in the narrow strip of floor between beds, jostling you with their roughhousing. 

Having reached your limit, fueled further by Soonyoung’s ill timed remarks, you snap. “Girls you’re both pretty, now can we please go to bed?”

“Fine.” 

“FINE.”

Cocooning in the blanket, you wiggle to the opposite edge of the mattress, as far away from the chaos as you can manage. The springs on the other side of the room squeak under Soonyoung’s weight as he flops down bonelessly, bouncing twice before he settles.

Once Dokyeom is satisfied he won’t get up, you feel the dip behind you as he shuffles under the covers.

Several uncomfortable inches separate your bodies as Soonyoung begins to snore.

Minutes pass, your heart thudding in your ears, breath uncomfortably labored. 

This was a bad idea. A string of bad ideas actually. Partnering with Dokyeom in lab, agreeing to go to the frat party at the beginning of the semester. Kissing him a few weeks later, taking his virginity. Hooking up with him again and again. Letting him hold you like he was more than a friend. Letting him kiss and touch as he pleased, doing the same. Spending the night. Driving up to this cabin and pretending it all meant more than it really did.

If Dokyeom liked you, he would have said something by now. He doesn’t stop talking unless he’s sleeping or eating, and both of those instances are more loose guidelines than strict rules. He wears his heart on his sleeve so if he felt anything for you beyond mutually shared sexual attraction you’d know.

And the way he reacted to Soonyoung’s declaration proves he doesn’t. 

There’d never been a promise of something more. You were his fuck buddy and chemistry partner. Romance and dating never came up. Nevermind the fact you hadn’t entertained another guy all year and Dokyeom never mentions other girls. Only awkwardly laughing when someone boldly approaches him, gently rejecting them with stuttered reasons why he isn’t interested.

Sometimes you think he’s looking at you to step in and say something, but it’s just a convenient excuse to not hurt someone’s feelings.

And because you’re selfish, you come up with a solution.

You’ll enjoy the next two days, bury your heart deep in your chest and pretend nothings changed in the ripples of tonight. When you return to campus Monday afternoon, whatever feelings you may have will be left behind in this room to wither in the darkness. Dokyeom will go back to being the cute guy you’re partnered with in chemistry and that’ll be that. No more hookups, no more movie nights on his couch, and certainly no more parties where alcohol will convince you to fold on your plan.

So you might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Dokyeom jumps when you turn around and snuggle into his back, nose following the valley of his spine as your arm curls around his waist to rest on the soft skin of his stomach. A few chirps of the crickets outside the window pass before you feel his fingers twine with your own, pulling your connected hands to his mouth, dropping a gentle press of lips on your knuckles.

And somehow it makes everything worse.

—

Sunday morning, you wake with determination and indulgent kisses to Dokyeom’s sleeping face.

But day one of your flawless plan comes with unforeseen road bumps. 

Once you finally manage to slip from bed, batting away the arms of your still dreaming lover, you find your phone flooded with a collection of pictures courtesy of Seungkwan. Snaps of you next to Dokyeom, laughing in time with mouths wide and chins tipped back. A few of you in his lap, watching the chaos of a drunk game night as he watches you, face relaxed and lips turned into a soft grin. And one picture of him staring out the living room window into the front yard illuminated with the high noon sun, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. 

Roadbump two boils down to your nativity.

After deciding to freely enjoy whatever Dokyeom has to offer for forty eight hours, he’s turned everything up to a hundred. Back hugs when you’re washing a dirty coffee cup in the kitchen sink, disgustingly cartoonish kisses where he can land them, his hands burning into your skin at every chance. Which are more frequent than you’d imagine considering he doesn’t let you out of his sight all morning.

His presence is intoxicating, sweet the same way the first warm breeze in spring is. But instead of drumming up new blooms, all he leaves is confusion.

Soonyoung’s slip off tongue doesn’t come up again but there's palpable tension between the two of them. The usual twin laughs silent as they avoid one another like the plague.

But the subtle apology comes when Soonyoung mentions the jacuzzi on the porch in passing when Dokyeom runs to the restroom.

“If you and DK wanna use it, I’ll keep everyone else out.”

Smiling as if he didn’t cause the thick anxiety in your gut, you thank him.

Luckily, the hot tub is conveniently covered by a tin awning, the echoing pitter patter of the sky falling around you as you both sink into the steamy water, string lights crossing above provide a warm glow.

Even if Soonyoung hadn’t agreed to be referee, no else is dumb enough to risk the cold snap settling in the air; despite the reprieve of the soothing jets and steaming water.

Thighs caging Dokyeom’s own as you rest in his lap, facing him. Hands busy at the sides of his neck, thumb massaging the tight knots of muscle along his shoulders, following the beads of steam that cling to his skin, trailing down to pool in his collar bone. 

Content washes through your bones. Here, in his arms, all alone. Touching just to touch, the way couples do simply because they can.

And it drives you mad.

“Minnie?”

Dokyeom hums in response, continuing to trail his nose around the curve of your jaw, feathering fleeting kisses in his travels.

“What are we doing?”

Lifting to your temple, he whispers “What do you mean?”

What did you mean? The question came out before you realized what was happening, so high on conflicting emotions you’d lost your carefully crafted control. But it’s too late now.

“Why’d you invite me?” You clarify, hooking your chin over his shoulder to avoid looking at his face.

“Because I like having you around.” 

He says it with mild disbelief, like you asked what color the sky is. 

“That’s it?”

“I don’t—,” he pauses. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. I just thought...”

“You thought what?”

Shaking your head, you lock yourself behind the vault door again. “Nothing, it's stupid.”

But Dokyeom isn’t willing to let you run away so easily. Gently lifting your chin till you’re out of his neck, he waits until you look at him before asking again.

“Tell me. Please?”

“I just thought maybe you invited me for a reason.” You grumble, burning under his inquisitive stare.

“I mean I did.” he swallows, thumb caressing the soft dip beneath your chin absentmindly. “I missed you.”

His confession melts your resolve slightly. But it’s not enough. 

“Is that it?”

“What else is there?”

Any part of you that softened in the last minute tenses again. You got your answer. 

“You’re right.” Your voice is hollow. 

Dokyeom senses it immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You're upset.”

“I’m fine.” But your voice says you’re clearly not.

“Talk to me.” He begs in a tiny voice you wouldn’t think someone as loud and bright as him would be capable of, fingers tangling with your own beneath the water.

All of it leaves a bitter taste coating your mouth like oil.

“Do you like me?”

He flounders at your sudden boldness, “Do I— what?”

“You don’t.”

“I didn’t say that!” He objects, distressed from the bite of your words.

“Well Soonyoung did and you couldn’t have shut him down faster!”

“Because it’s none of his business!”

“Then whose is it?”

“Well, do you like me?”

“I asked first!”

“I asked second!”

“God you’re such a fucking child!”

Dokyeom stands up, dumping you from his lap into the water unceremoniously.

Swiping at the water caught in your eyes as you surface, you scream. “What the fuck?”

“Oh I’m sorry! I’m just sooo childish I didn’t think about it!” He huffs, already wrapping a towel around his waist as he stomps into the house. A trail of wet footprints glistening in the lights behind him.

Through the glass sliding door, you see dozens of heads turn to follow him up the stairs. And when he disappears down the hallway at the top, they all turn to see you. Alone. Tears trickling down your face to blend with the beads of water.

—

Seungkwan comes to your rescue. Swaddling you in a large beach towel before ushering you to his room, eyes daring anyone to step in his way. The walk is filled with long awkward silence, everyone watching intently, curious as to what happened on the back porch.

Depositing you on his bed, Seungkwan leaves you to yourself with a promise to return soon. Snot drips from your nose, vision blurred as you fight to stifle your pathetic sniffles, face burning as you wipe the mess away over and over again with the edge of the towel. 

You take to focusing on your surroundings. The room is decorated in the same garish collection of bears and tartan as Dokyeom’s. But it only houses one measily twin bed, a long cherry stained dresser hugging alone the wall, and an air mattress pushed into the corner next to the closet. Seungkwan’s roommate is unknown to you but you’d bet money it’s Vernon’s black duffle in the corner.

Shivering in your bikini and towel, you remain on the bed as you turn to look out the window. Focusing on the different cars peppering the front lawn and driveway, your own blocked in by a black SUV. 

You’ll ask Seungkwan to find the owner so they can move it. No intention of staying further into the morning than you have to.

*

On the opposite end of the house, Soonyoung listens dutifully as Dokyeom paces the limited floor space in their room. 

“...and she wants to say I’m childish! Me!”

Soonyoung knows it’s in his best interest to act surprised, disgusted by the insult. But one person stormed through the house dripping water everywhere, and the other was nearly carried while she cried because of said first person. 

He also realizes that this entire incident can be traced back to himself so stays quiet.

“I don’t even know why I asked her here in the first place.”

“What happened?”

Dokyeom looks at Soonyoung as if he forgot he was present at all. “What?”

“I thought you two were having fun?”

“We were. And then she asked if I liked her and before I could say anything she jumped down my throat.”

“Did she say if she liked you back?”

“No, but she obviously doesn’t.”

“I don’t know dude, she was crying pretty hard when Seungkwan brought her inside.”

As if the news shocks him like an ice bath, Dokyeom flinches before asking “She was crying?”

“Yeah she—”

The crack of the door hitting the wall silences Soonyoung. Seungkwan stands in the threshold, face eerily calm but body clenched.

“You piece of shit!” is all the warning Dokyeom gets before Seungkwan is on him.

Dokyeom is a victim of his own shock, allowing Seungkwan to put him in a headlock before he has a chance to blink. 

They crash onto the bed next to Soonyoung, attempting to grapple one another as Soonyoung works to pry them apart.

“What the fuck!” Dokyeom’s voice shakes as Seungkwan snakes his arms around his neck.

“My best friend is crying her heart out in my room because of you.”

Dokyeom manages to evade, getting Seungkwan underneath him. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Bull shit!”

“STOP!” Soonyoung bellows, using a tone he rarely thinks himself capable of. The one his mom used just before she lost her shit from him and his sister fighting.

He pins them with a glare, ripping his roommate back by the collar of his sweater. “You sit the fuck down.” Then he’s on Seungkwan who watches him with a wide mouth, “You take her bag to your room.”

To their credit, they both listen. Seungkwan snatches your bag up, slamming the door so hard it rattles on its hinges as he exits. Dokyeom fumes but sits, watching the older man as plants himself on the opposite mattress once again with a hand scrubbing down his face.

“Do you like her?”

Dokyeom looks uncomfortable but answers. “Yes.”

“And you think she doesn’t like you?”

Another pause. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she—,” Dokyeom flounders, hands flailing to provide some intangible explanation. 

Much to other’s doubts, Soonyoung is smarter than that.

“Because she drove almost three hours to be here? Because you guys giggle like idiots whenever you’re together?”

Dokyeom collapses backwards, head bouncing against the mattress before he sullenly sighs. “She just sees me as a friend.”

“Weirdly enough, her and Seungkwan are friends and she isn’t all over him.”

“That’s different!”

“Why?”

“If she liked me, she would have said something.”

“Maybe you’re just not listening.”

—

Seungkwan returns to his room, met with red rimmed eyes and damp cheeks as you watch him from the end of his bed. The beach towel he left you in is soaking wet, providing little protection from the mountain air that seeps through the seal in the window.

“I brought your stuff.” Seungkwan says gently, disturbed by your silence.

You notice his clothes are wrinkled, and his hair is a mess. But when you open your mouth to ask what happened, a fresh batch of tears enter the space between you.

Approaching you like a frightened animal, he pulls you into a comforting hug. “I’m sorry.”

The shoulder of Seungkwan’s long sleeve dampens like the towel as you shake. “I can’t believe he’d—.”

“It’s okay.” He coos, hand stroking the back of your head.

A few hours later, you rest on your back, bundled under the quilt of the twin bed. You’re freezing despite the layers of clothing you’d worn, curious why you hadn’t felt this cold the other night. Even when the answer is obvious you don’t dwell.

Seungkwan snores on the air mattress, whispering something undecipherable in his sleep; apparently Vernon agreed to sleep elsewhere for the night. Whether it was of his own volition or under a direct threat, you're thankful no else has to see you like this. 

Closing your eyes, you try to break the barrier of sleep. You need to be up in a few hours, and god knows leaving the sanctuary of this cramped room will be exhausting enough.

—

Five in the morning on a long weekend should be a time of peace and quiet. Birds chirping into the calmness of the early dawn, dew cling to the grass in an effort to hide from the sun.

But a slip down one of the slick wooden steps sends you to your ass with a loud thud.  No harm, no foul. Just a sore tailbone and another coal in the fire of your annoyance.

Closing your eyes to compose yourself, lest you scream like you’ve wanted to since last night. Several deep calming breaths, in through your nose out through your mouth, before you rise.

And at the bottom of the steps sits another reason to scream.

Dokyeom looks like shit, for lack of a better word. Hair tangled, dark locks flat in some areas and defying gravity in others. His face blotchy, eyes rimmed red with sullen dark circles curving along the top of his cheek bones, like he hasn’t slept a wink. Even his clothes are a mess, the collar of his crew neck stretched more than it was before.

All to say, he is a mirror image of you.

Staring at one another like two startled deer, you rise to your feet before tilting your chin defyingly.

Crying in front of everyone had been enough embarrassment. The next time you lose control will be in the privacy of your car as you drive back to campus, where you can wail until you lose your voice.

“Hi,” he croaks.

Ignoring him, you descend the remaining stairs, aiming to breeze past. But Dokyeom steps in your way and waits till you look up at him again.

“I’m sorry.”

Seconds tick past and neither of you break the staring contest. Grinding your teeth, you try to side step Dokyeom again but he’s right there.

“Can we talk?”

Talking is the last thing you want to do. More tears are welling behind your eyes with each beat of your heart, and if you open your mouth it’ll say whatever it takes for him to hold you again. 

This time when you push against his shoulder, Dokyeom lets you go. 

And you hate the part of you that wishes he didn’t.

[twilghtkoo]

gimme gimme!

pairings. haechan x (f) reader

genre. FLUFF! established relationship

warnings. implications to sex towards the end, haechan being so fucking >_< in this one (do y’all understand??)

note. again,, inspired by this tiktok SOMEONE HELP ME FROM MY IMAGINATION AND THOUGHTS BC THIS W HAECHAN ????

—

haechan is home with you, but not really for a good reason. he’s exempt from his schedules due to health reasons so he’s instructed to stay home and get some well needed rest. but you’re glad that he’s with you and under your watch.

both of you are on your couch, your back against the arm rest and your legs thrown over haechan’s lap as he’s watching a youtube video on the tv. his arm is slung behind you resting on the couch as his other arm is resting on your thighs, occasionally giving your thigh a squeeze with his hand. you’re on your tablet reading a book you’ve been excited to read that a friend had recommended to you.

this is what your days have consisted of, just you two in your apartment. either glued on the couch snuggled together or talking about anything in your kitchen and laughing or in your bed getting lost in each others warmth. of course, you do leave the house in the morning for classes and come back before dinner, haechan awaiting upon your arrival at the entrance of your front door with open arms and his bright smile.

you tap your tablet’s screen to turn to the next page before looking up at your boyfriend who’s focused on the youtube video that’s playing on your tv. you poke his tummy which makes him twitch underneath you, he grabs your finger to stop you from poking him again.

“what?” he asks, staring down at you with curious eyes.

you pucker your lips expectantly, as your eyes stare at his lips and back to his gaze.

the side of his lips turn upwards slightly, releasing your finger to take a hold of your chin as he places his lips on yours. when he disconnects from your lips he makes a dramatic ‘mwah’ sound.

he smiles down at you, his hand that’s behind you holds the back of your head as he softly pushes it towards him to kiss your forehead. “cute,” he mumbles, before going back to watching the tv.

but you want more.

you poke his tummy again, with your lips puckered.

and he leans down pecking your lips twice, humming in content. he can never get enough of your lips.

instead of poking him again, you make a small pouty noise and poking with your lips.

“you’re being really fucking cute right now.” he tells you in a low voice. but he doesn’t dismiss you because he kisses you again except his lips linger on yours a bit longer. you drop your tablet onto your lap and both your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you pull closer to you. as if you both weren’t already glued together.

“i can’t help it that i love you so much.” you mumble against his lips, and you open your eyes slightly during the kiss and haechan’s eyes are closed and his long eyelashes are glazing his cheeks and his lips are longing for yours. his face drunk off of lust for you.

“say it again,” he smirks, yearning for your affectionate words that hold so much love in it his heart feels like it could explode.

you raise your eyebrows. “what, that i love you so much?”

his eyes are staring at your lips when you say the words, nodding his head.

“i love you so much, my love.” you tell him strongly, puckering your lips again.

and with a sly smile he wastes no time in closing the distance between you, once again, meeting your lips with his.

“this is usually the other way around.” he states, implying that it’s usually him being all lovey dovey with you and not the other way around. in no way is he complaining though. he’s enjoying every second of this.

you hum, “perhaps it’s the way you woke me up this morning with my favorite iced coffee from my favorite place.”

he fake pouts, “am i only an iced coffee supplier to you?” he’s wiping away fake tears with his finger. 

you shake your head, giggling. “kidding, maybe. but i do really just love you and want to show you.” you answer truthfully. 

“show me, eh?” wiggling his eyebrows. “let’s say we go for round two of what we did last night?” as he trails his hands up and down your thighs, the tip of his fingers grazing dangerously to where aches for him.

you take your chance and sit yourself up right, straddling his lap, your tablet falling off your lap and somewhere on the floor but you don’t care. “take me.” he wastes no time in securing you in his arms and lifting both of you off the couch, rushing towards your shared bedroom. 

—

taglist! @haechanswaifu @flower-lise @kimsubin05 @neoteez01 @hiraarri @xuzixushi @jaehyunsjasmine @notbeforelong @kpoploverxx-12 @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @coolkimchiijoy16 @pockyandme @btsizlyfe @mrkklee @sou7thside @ghostlydolly @galasticpurpl3 @haechh @strawberfur @n0hyuck @daisydam @meom-nakamoto @renjunspring @bruisedbagel @rcsjunie @sunflowerhae @pirateswithfairytales @ranthom__ @haebragi @miriamxsworld @hyuckrec @miss-bear @yesohhsehun fill out the form to be added or send an ask/message to be removed!! :D

[sugawarassoulmate]

okok im back with incel!kenma

whats even worse is if you really can’t tell if you’re a guy or a girl, the type of person that gives gender envy. if you have longer hair he just assumes your like him and can’t be bothered to cut it.

OKAY THIS THOUGHT JUST HIT ME MID TYPING! YOU’RE THE BITCH NERD!/LOSER!KURO CANT STOP TALKING ABOUT. THERES TWO MAYBE THREE WAYS HE CAN FIND OUT ITS YOU.

also ik this isn’t one of your hcs for kuro but nerd/loser!kuro x mean!goth!gf but maybe you’re not mean to him but everyone else, people even look at him the wrong way and you have them absolutely terrified. and during your face chats with him you never have your makeup or you daily clothes on. normally just bare faced and in something of kuros. surpising how he didn’t pick up kuros old nekoma jersey

number one: maybe kuro posts a picture of you on his story possibly at your pc playing with incel!kenma. or it could be one of the spicy mirror pictures you made him post because why the hell is the dumb bitch from class feeling up on your man for. maybe you even rant to kenma about this dumb bitch who can’t keep her hands to herself, and why the fuck is she touching a taken man. (okay i think incel!kenma is misogynistic but not homophobic because why the fuck would anyone want to deal with some needy whore constantly.) but that rant solidifies the thought that you are infact a guy maybe not one who hates women on the same level as he does but a man nonetheless. but once kuro posted that picture he figured it out and was disgusted.

number 2: kuro is at your house studying, so to keep your boredom at bay you hop online with kenma, it’s about two hours in when he hears a knock shuffling in the back ground followed by the sound of someone falling onto your bed when he asked about it your response is casual “oh its just my boyfriend.” and he doesn’t pick at it anymore. but then the mic catches a familiar voice in the background. “pretty girl when are you gonna be done, i want to take a nap with you” you give a hum in response to his question. “alright bro gotta leave after this round, so we have to win don’t wanna lose the last match of the day.” obviously you land up losing because kenma can’t get his pretty little head around the fact that he couldn’t tell you were some fucking bitch, you never told him either so that makes you a fucking liar (even tho he didn’t ask). when the game disconnects he’s seething.

number three: this is the worst option really kuro begs him to come hang out with him at his girlfriend, he swears up and down that she’s not the type of woman he’d hate. promises that they have a lot of the same interests. maybe he sends a picture of you cosplaying as one of his favorite characters but that just lowers his opinion, in the photo he can’t even tell its you though. so he’s even more confused when he meets you guys at the arcade. he cautiously calls you by your in game name and you respond with a smile and respond with your irl name. he’s genuinely not sure how to react. not just bc you’re the person he’s been gaming with for almost a year, but with your thick ass platforms you’re just as talk as kuro if not taller. you literally look down at him, can he even talk shit about a bitch like you with out getting his as beat.

anyway this drug out for way longer than intended. but yeah incel!kenma making assumptions and being totally wrong. how funny would it be if he had a crush on kuros gf

bestie.....my beloved......all of the options just sound so amazing to me omg *kisses u*

the absolute torture incel!kenma has to go through upon finding out that 1) his favorite gaming buddy is a disgusting female, 2) she's dating his best friend and somehow he never knew, and 3) she's so fucking hot that kenma can't stop picturing her face every time he rubs one out.

and you just won't let him live you're so fucking mean to him that kenma can't even get a word in when you're roasting him. the only thing that reels you in is kuroo's soft, pleading voice asking you to be nice.

kenma's embarrassed that his friend has become such a simp but fuck if he didn't wish he was on the receiving end of your sweet words.

[lesbianrobin]

waking the witch behind the scenes EXCLUSIVE

first of all: this fic started off with a prompt about eddie struggling to hide his magic from buck while said magic constantly Did Things for buck bc eddie just loves him so much. so for the next few paragraphs, keep in mind that the central idea here is eddie essentially attempting to hide his love.

i've seen and enjoyed a few different witch eddie fics and i think they're all so cool!! and i noticed that in most magic eddie fics, the magic is a Family Thing, but more specifically, it's a Diaz Family Thing. and we here at lesbianrobin hq are #feminists so obviously my next thought was, well, what if it's matrilineal? the idea of a "witch" is heavily gendered, and when i started thinking about this fic i was initially gonna take a lot of inspiration from charmed, so i thought it might be neat to make the magic something from his mother's side.

once i decided on that, it occurred to me that the only family we ever see or even really hear about is from the diaz side. eddie is close with his dad's side of the family, but we don't really know anything about his mother's side besides a vague ethnic heritage, so i was like, well, what if they don't really Have much family on that side? and from that came the idea of eddie being isolated in his magic, lacking guidance and support. pretty much all we know about helena's family is that she has some swedish heritage, though there's no telling how far back.

to recap: we have eddie, isolated in his magic. vaguely scandinavian heritage. i start looking into old norse religion and stumble upon seiðr, a type of magic traditionally practiced by women wherein male practitioners were viewed as effeminate and maybe gay. all of which coalesces into eddie's magic essentially being a manifestation of his sexuality and everything else that fails to live up to his parents' expectations.

so. eddie hides his magic. eddie conceptualizes his magic as something separate from himself. eddie disconnects himself so thoroughly from his magic that it operates against his will, that he can't even feel it. magic is gay 🫶🏻

buck knows that eddie is magically doing these little things for him. he complains about the coffee on purpose so that eddie will conjure him good coffee. and it works! yay for bratty whiny buck!

eddie's prophetic dream about his and buck's first time twists every sensation into something negative and overwhelming due to The Repression. he's terrified of coming out and really accepting and acting upon his feelings; once he actually does it, it isn't scary anymore.

the way we never were: american families and the nostalgia trap by stephanie coontz is a great book and very accessible to a general audience! also, BLK & Bold coffee is really good. i am giving buck my exact taste. don't worry about it.

i have some Thoughts about how exactly buck realized eddie has magic, how he and chris started talking about it, and the various times that buck Knew eddie was doing some magic shit and just pretended to be oblivious. however! i'm gonna hang on to those in case i ever want to write a prequel.

aaaand finally: i don't know where the hell that proposal came from. the spirit of eddie dies possessed me.

ok that's it for now love u all hugs and kisses 🫶🏻 bye