#and i suppose if there was a reasonable amount of time between each and a lot of ppl were able to leave

[highdefhoetry]

a clash of sword and flame.

cw: nsfw!!! mmf, competitive threesome, penetration (penis in vagina), doggy style, missionary, blow job/facefucking, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampies, spanking, hair pulling, praise, body worship, fingersucking, fingering, g-spot stimulation, multiple orgasms, biting/marking, possessive zoro, pussydrunk sanji

summary: zoro and sanji find out you've been fucking them both. a competition ensues, with you smack dab in the middle.

You were in trouble. Big trouble. And no amount of sweet talking or sugar coating could get you out of this situation. 

Your eyes dart back and forth between your two furious crew mates - Sanji, who was half naked in bed next to you, clutching the white sheets in tight fists, and Zoro, fully clothed and standing in front of the closed door with his arms crossed and his face twisted into a scowl. Both looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, silently fuming as a thick and palpable tension wafted through the air. 

It was a well kept secret. Or so you thought. Only Nami and Robin were privy to your midnight visits to the kitchen and your early morning calls to the crow’s nest. You had made sure of that. There was no reason anyone else on the crew needed to know that you were secretly fucking two of your crewmates. Hell would break loose, knowing how intense the rivalry was between those two. 

But even the best kept secrets eventually came to light. And the consequence of your sex-driven decisions was staring you right in the face.

“Tch... you can’t be serious…” the swordsman sneered, shooting daggers at the blonde. “I can’t believe you fell for the shitty cook’s bullshit.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Sanji stumbles to his feet while struggling to pull up his briefs, his erection still visible through the white fabric. 

“She's smarter than that,” Zoro storms towards him until they’re both neck and neck. “She knows she can do better than a perverted cook who can't keep it in his pants.”

“Oh, so you think you’re better than me?!”

“I don’t think I’m better than you. I know I am.”

This is bad. Really bad. The two of them always bicker and argue, but they might actually kill each other this time if you don’t do something about it. You pull the thin bed sheets up to your chest, hiding your nude form underneath, and stand up to try and get between them. You created this mess, you had to at least try to stop it from escalating any further.

“Guys, don’t fight…” you try to reason with them, but your words go unheard as their argument continues.

“At least I know how to treat a lady! A brute like you has no concept of chivalry or romance!”

“I don’t need any damn chivalry,” a smirk creeps up Zoro’s face, twisting his expression into one of manic rage. “And I don’t need to smooth talk a woman to get laid.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Sanji’s voice falls, the quiet tone a stark contrast to the previous screaming and yelling. He tears his eyes away from Zoro and looks at you with both passion and scorn in his gaze. It breaks your heart, seeing him this way. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.

But strangely, it doesn’t last. Something shifts in his gaze, encompassing his body as he breaks away from the argument.

He returns to the bed, gently taking your fingers and leaving soft kisses from the back of your hand and up the rest of your arm. It happens so fast you don’t have time to protest, succumbing to his embrace as he wraps his arm around the small of your back. His soft hands glide across your skin, caressing every sensitive nerve with the most delicate touch he can muster. A fluttered moan escapes when his lips reach your neck and shoulders. You close your eyes, then open them again when you feel Zoro’s sharp glare boring into you. He watches on in shock, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“A beautiful lady like her needs to be worshiped properly… something an ape like you could never do,” Sanji’s sweet words flutter in your ears, making you shiver as he leaves a trail of soft kisses across your skin. “Ma chérie, tu n'as pas besoin d'un imbécile comme lui.”

Zoro mutters something about “stupid fancy French bullshit” as you try to suppress your moans, melting at the praise Sanji is showering over you. It’s what you love most about fucking him; he treats you like a goddess, devoting himself entirely to your pleasure. You truly feel like he’s become your lover, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in this moment.

But you’re suddenly reminded of the other’s presence when you’re pulled toward the other side of the bed and into a strong pair of arms. Zoro holds you tightly, muscles bulging as he wraps himself around your frame. He’s shirtless, and his black pants are laying on the ground beside the bed, leaving him in his boxers. You feel his erection press against your back and instinctively rub your ass against it. Just how he likes.

“You’re not doing it right,” he grunts, glaring at a shocked-looking Sanji while he pushes you onto your stomach. You start to say something, but you’re silenced when his rough, calloused hands take hold of your thighs and spread them out, pulling your hips back onto his while his tip pushes into your hole.

You cry out when his cock starts pumping inside you, slamming into your walls at an incredible pace. Your teeth sink into the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure as the swordsman fucks you deeply, passionately, right in front of the cook. He grunts quietly, letting out short, labored breaths while enjoying the feeling of your walls clenching around his shaft.

“She’s not some… delicate little flower…” he grumbles in between strokes. “You need… to fuck her… properly…”

It was rough and intense, as it always was when you fucked Zoro. But you couldn’t get enough of it. You loved the way he’d manhandle you, tossing you around like a doll into whatever position he wanted. You’d melt when he told you how tight you were, how fucking good it felt to be inside you, how you had the best ass in the Grand Line. He spanks you a couple times, grinning when he hears the surprised little noises you make from the unexpected impact. His fingers run through your hair, then grasp a clump of your locks before pulling back tightly. Your head moves back, forcing you to look Sanji in the eyes as he watches Zoro fuck you into a dizzying headspace. He gawks at you wide-eyed, cheeks pink and cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth.

“Sanji…!” you gasp, earning another spank from Zoro.

“You’re mine, got it?” he sneers into your ear, tugging your hair a little harder. “Say it nice and loud so the shitty cook can hear it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Good. Say it again.”

“I’m yours!” you cry out, feeling Zoro’s cock throb inside you. He speeds up, the steady pumping turning into a wild, frenzied rhythm that is so intense you start seeing stars. Then finally, he explodes inside you, filling your hole with comforting warmth. You can feel him throbbing as he holds your hips, making sure he’s emptied every drop of cum inside you. Making sure Sanji knows who you belong to.

You lay down on your stomach, skin damp with sweat and flushed with heat. But you don’t get to rest for long. You’re pulled into another firm pair of arms that flip you onto your back, forcing you to look your French lover in the eyes despite your guilty conscience telling you to hide. Your eyes dart away, but when a gentle hand takes your chin and pulls it towards him, you bashfully meet his gaze. You expected anger, sadness, resentment… but all you see reflected in those eyes is worry and concern. 

“Ma cœur…” he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, cradling your cheek in his other hand. “Are you alright? Did that idiot hurt you?”

He runs a hand down your chest, flicking your nipples before caressing the soft, supple skin underneath. He gently gropes your breast, coaxing moans and other little sounds from your parted lips before running down your stomach and between your thighs. His fingers play with your clit, teasing it by massaging the hood of your clit. Your moans become louder, your body becomes more desperate for release. Sanji pushes a finger inside you, despite your hole still slick with Zoro’s cum, and curls against your walls until you erupt in an intense orgasm that causes your legs to shake. Zoro had brought you to the peak, but Sanji had pushed you over the edge.

Your cry of pleasure is so loud it makes your throat feel hoarse. Satisfied, Sanji smirks and pulls down his white briefs. It was his turn now. He enters you slowly, carefully, and calmly, asking every now and then, “Does it feel good? Am I going too fast? Are you alright, ma amour?” 

You nod and spread your legs, inviting him in.

His strokes are longer, deeper, more controlled. His dick pulsates within you, the slight curve of his shaft hitting your walls perfectly and spurring you towards another orgasm. He holds your legs at his sides, gazing deeply into your eyes without tearing them away for a moment. You’ve never felt so seen, so vulnerable. You almost forget there’s another person there with you.

It’s not long before you cum again, this time a little harder than before. Sanji cums shortly after, having kept himself in control until this moment. Ladies always came first. That was something he lived by, a motto that made sex with him all the more satisfying. You smile up at him, mirroring back the affectionate grin he’s giving you from above. He fills you with his own cum, pumping into you a few more times as if he was trying to shove his own seed past Zoro’s. He wasn’t going to let the swordsman one-up him. It was his own way of claiming you. 

You’re only given a small respite before the next round. A strong pair of hands grips your ankles and yanks you towards the other side of the bed. Zoro locks eyes with you, brows furrowed in displeasure as he takes in your blissed out expression. He leans forward and kisses you intensely, biting your lower lip while his tongue presses against yours. His teeth sink into your neck, leaving bite marks down to your collar bones prominent enough to see. He’s mid-bite when Sanji crawls on top and pushes him off. The blonde looks pissed as he notes the marks on your skin.

“You’re like a damn animal!” he yells, once again butting heads with the surly swordsman. “This is no way to treat a lady!”

“She likes it, you moron!” Zoro spits back, forehead pressed against Sanji’s. 

“Guys, please…!” You try to placate them, but it only ends with each man taking hold of your hands and pinning them down on the bed next to you.

“I made her cum, twice,” Sanji notes while planting his lips onto your wrist. “How many times did she cum with you, mosshead? Oh, right. Zero.”

“I can make her cum just fine, curlybrow,” Zoro sneers, lacing his rough fingers with yours while nipping at your neck. 

“Oh, yeah?!”

“Yeah,” he says with a smirk.

You feel another pair of fingers push inside your hole and dig into your walls, seeking out the ribbed spot he knows will make you scream. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and within seconds you’ve reached another climax, an orgasm brought about by his expert hands and the steady way he’s pumping them inside you. He pulls them out and sticks them in your mouth, letting you suck the cum off his chapped skin. You see him smile as he watches your lips encompass his hands. Focused entirely on the feel of his fingers in your mouth, you shudder when you suddenly feel a soft, wet tongue lapping at your clit. And when you look down, you see a mop of blonde hair in between your legs, Sanji’s soft hands holding each of your thighs. He eats you out, his lips kissing and licking every part of your mound. His tongue darts in between your folds, circles around your clit, tastes the entrance of your hole and the puffy lips around it. Still dripping with both sets of cum, he licks that up too, tasting the sweet mixture of you and his arch rival. 

You arch your back and throw back your head, giving him further access to you. He buries his face in your pussy, inhaling the scent while eating you fervently, as if you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted. But as you’re enjoying yourself, something forces your lips apart and shoves itself inside your mouth. The taste of dick and sweat fills your senses. Instinctively, your lips wrap around Zoro’s shaft and take in his massive cock, lips sliding up and down before letting your tongue linger on his tip. The swordsman groans with every soft movement, carefully pumping in and out of your mouth and speeding up only when he’s sure you’re ready to deep throat him. You open your jaw wider, signaling that you’re ready, and within moments he cradles both of your cheeks in hand and fucks into your mouth with ferver. 

The next orgasm shocks your system, sending electric waves through every nerve. You cry out hoarsely, high pitched notes warbling through the air that are muffled by the thick cock in your mouth. The taste of salty cum fills your senses as Zoro finishes; the warmth slides down your throat when you swallow it whole. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath. Sanji tears himself away from your pussy, looking at you with a completely blissed out expression before collapsing beside you. The swordsman lays at your other side, squishing you between the two men on a bed that’s only just big enough for the three of you. 

“...Stupid shitty cook…” Zoro grumbles, pulling you into his chest. You can feel his racing heartbeat as your skin presses against his, sticky with sweat and other fluids. He glares at the blonde, who’s finally coming to his senses enough to argue with him again.

“Damn mosshead…” Sanji returns his scowl before grabbing your arm and pulling you against him. His heart is pound against his chest, a steady beat beneath flushed red skin. 

You look over at Sanji, then back at a now snoozing Zoro who still has his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you possessively. You hear quiet snoring from behind, and look to see that Sanji has fallen asleep, as well. 

You wondered what this meant for the three of you, if you’d wake up to another round of bickering or if the two of them had come to some sort of silent conclusion. Your own heart races as you consider the future, a selfish part of you hoping this wasn’t just a one time thing despite knowing the trouble it had caused. 

When your own eyelids start to close, you decide that the matter can wait until morning. You’re exhausted, and it would take more than the promise of treasure to tear you away from the two men you loved most in this world.

[jeonscatalyst]

What difference do you think we would have gotten to see if it wasn't jk with jm but let's say tae? I'm only using tae as an example cause he's the same age as jimin so the 95-97 remains there and the "dynamics change because of age" reason wouldn't be there. Or else i would have used other members as an example

TK bicker too, jungkook was teasing tae (Basically when vmk are together it's fixed that one of them is going to get ganged up by the other two, happens with TK-Jm, Jkk-TH, Vmin-JK so that's a given. He was considerate of tae as well given he was asking him to join when tae was on the phone or when he said to let's eat near tae even before he knew tae was unwell. It's of course basic manners to make ur supposed guest feel involved and they both did. he also said jeju was better because tae was there so i was just wondering what difference would it have made in the show if it was a TK show. like we obviously would have gotten them enjoying their time doing all the activities and I'm sure they know how to hangout without a third party involved so i kinda don't see much difference so it would be nice to see a different pov.

Hi anon,

I think we can only try to imagine how different things would have been if it was just Jk and Tae because we unfortunately have rarely seen just the two of them interacting for that long without other people as buffers and the few times we did get to see them together without any other members like the Taekook Carnation Vlive of 2020 and their joint instagram Live last year, it wasn’t really anything to write home about in my opinion.

Pre 2016 taekook together would have been pure comedy gold in my opinion because those two were hilarious and so much fun together when they were younger. They had amazing chemistry and knew how to go with the flow with each other so well but I don’t think things remained the same after they grew up and matured over the years. I think that biggest thing which made them to be able to relate to each other so much was not there as much anymore so things became a little strained.

Taekook can definitely hang out with each other without other people but I don’t think they can do it for as long as Jimin and Jungkook do it. Take AYS episodes 3-5 for example. Things were so much fun when the three guys had all those fun activities to do on the first day. They had climbing, racing, motorbike riding, it was so entertaining to watch all 3 of them having so much fun and just running around like 5 year olds but look at what happened the moment those fun physical activities were done. Tae was literally almost always on his phone and barely interacted with Jikook. While at the restaurants jikook were the ones always talking with each other while tae was either on his phone or was quiet. Even back at home after their day’s activities, he usually went to bed much earlier than Jimin and Jungkook while these two stayed up and just found fun in whatever silly thing they were doing. This, is the difference between taekook and Jikook.

When there is physical activity which they consider fun, taekook gel so well and could be so interesting to watch but one of them tends to lose some interest after a while or gets tired and retires while one is still in the mood to play around. This doesn’t happen with Jikook. Jikook don’t necessarily need a lot of physical fun activities to have fun together because they know how to create their own fun in any situation they are in. They know how to talk and laugh about the most random things, they have an insane amount of inside jokes, and more often than not, you would see them making decisions on what to do together. They also don’t always feel the need to fill the silence with noise. They are very capable of just being by each other without saying or doing much and would not feel bored but when you look at how tae was in episode 4 and 5 after the physical activities (plus his neck pain) it isn’t hard to see that he probably had, had enough. So imagine the show with just taekook in a situation like this. Tae probably spending alot of time on his phone, taekook barely saying anything to each other while eating at restaurants, Tae wanting to go to bed way earlier than Jk who is still hyper and just wants to play around and when you add to the fact that both of them are not big talkers, then you can imagine what it would be like.

Jimin is very good at starting and holding conversations and keeping things interesting with words. I don’t think Tae is good at this and Jk isn’t either but the thing is, when Jk is with Jimin, he talks more, he is such a yapper around Jimin but he is quieter with Tae probably because Tae doesn’t talk much either.

I can see how him being with Jikook in Jeju might have made things better because at the end of the day, things are always more fun with more people. There’s more laughter, more fun ideas etc so I think that is what Jk meant and Jimin too said he was able to run around like a kid again thanks to Tae. Jimin and Jungkook are the two who like doing more mundane and probably “boring” things together. They have always liked staying up late at nights doing the most unserious things together and it is so much fun for them while taekook are the ones who actually like doing fun recreational activities together. Jimin and Jungkook could be locked up together in an empty room and they would still find something fun to do. That is the difference anon.

Bottom line here is that Jk, Jimin and Taehyung are all friends. They all love and care about each other. Jk loves Tae and he loves Jimin too, he is also very close to both of them but Jk just relates or gels with both of them in very different ways. Just because they are all close doesn’t mean they have the exact same kind of closeness with each other. There are certain things that Jungkook might feel are better with Tae and others that he feels are better with Jimin. I think Jungkook prefers doing the extra fun outdoor activities with Taehyung, while he enjoys the more mundane or subtle things with Jimin. He just likes talking with Jimin, being silly with him, or just doing nothing with him. So with Jimin and Jungkook we would probably still see them doing just fine with little to no activity but with Taehyung and Jungkook, we probably need activities to actually see them gel well with each other. That is what I think the difference would be anon, based on everything I know about them and also what we saw on AYS.

Taekook actually don’t bicker much and based on what I have seen, one person usually gets upset when some jokes/ teasing gets too far. Think of Tae straight up getting upset and telling Jk not to take things too far when Jk joked about him being weak or how tae got mad and Jimin made Jk apologize back in 2019 when Tae was trying to say something during a Live but Jk told him that what he was about to say wasn’t important at that moment. Taekook are not used to bickering with each other like Jikook are so while Jikook would laugh about certain things when they joke with each other, Taekook wouldn’t. So you cannot even compare taekook bickering to Jikook’s. Jikook have been used to roasting each other since their rookie days, it is fun for them.

These are just my opinions though anon. Other people might see things differently.

[honeyoats]

reading no man’s land is just like. i want to track down a lawyer who specializes in constitutional law and have them react to this

[ode2rin]

Rin thinks you’re pretty. 

No, scratch that; it was far too inadequate to describe you that way. If he were to be utterly honest, you were exquisitely, heartbreakingly beautiful, far more than his heart could contain.

You’re pretty when you spoke, when you said his name, when you smiled – oh God, don't even get him started on how your smile could brighten even the darkest of days. He was certain that a face like yours was meant for smiling, and it was even brighter when he was the reason behind it.

Right now, however, Rin finds it hard to look at your face when you’re like this – crying.

and it is even worse when he’s the source of it.

“Stop crying, dumbass,” he whispered, sighing. 

“Then stop getting into fights, you asshole,” you retorted back in between sobs.

Rin fell silent after your reply. He couldn't find the right words, not with your sobs filling the room and drowning his thoughts. He watched you as you applied a small amount of betadine to a cotton swab and wiped away your tears before turning to him.

“Take a seat. Let me clean that,” you offered, pertaining to the small cut o n his lip.

Rin took one long look at your face, and without a word, he moved to the corner of your bed, feeling the familiar dip of the mattress beneath him while you pulled the chair beside your table and placed it in front of him.

He'd been here countless times before. Growing up with your mothers being best friends meant that you were practically childhood friends by default, and that also meant spending endless hours in each other's homes.

But this time was different from all the previous visits; it was the first time he was in your room, no longer just a close friend anymore. That reality and your crushing tears – they were consuming all corners of his thoughts.

You closed the gap between you two to get a better look at the swollen cut from a blow he had taken. You gently dabbed the swab around the wound and felt Rin's sharp intake of breath as you did so.

You began to reason, “This wouldn't happen if you could've just–”

“I don't want to hear it.”

You bit your lower lip and tears started swelling again in the corner of your eyes. Rin was nothing if not so fucking stubborn– that you knew since childhood, but you wished he could put it aside for a moment and truly listen to you.

“Okay,” you coldly said, conceding and turning your focus on cleaning his wound.

Rin wanted to pummel his own self in the ground because of the passing hurt that graced your eyes from how he cut you off. A sniff escaped you and Rin physically felt his heart contract.

What was he supposed to do? Stand by and let those damn assholes make lewd comments about you? There was no way in hell he would just let it slide.

This wasn't the first time Rin had taken matters into his own hands when it came to you. Since third grade, Rin had taken his mom's words about looking after you to heart. And it had always been that way, even back when he was hellbent in denying his feelings. Not an ounce of rationality graces his mind when it comes to you, so you should've already known that he didn't have it in him to hold back.

He caught your hand and gently squeezed it. The gesture prompted you to look at him briefly before turning your gaze away, still hurt from his dismissal of your concern.

“I didn’t mean that,” he squeezes your hand again, “Look at me, please.”

You turned your head to meet your stubborn boyfriend. This time, you let the tears fall freely.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, sincere and uncharacteristically gentle, “Speak to me, y/n.”

“I just..” you sobbed, “I don’t like it when you get hurt. That’s all.”

“I don’t like it more when you get hurt,” he countered.

“It's just some stupid words from stupid people, Rin. They're not worth it.”

“But you are.”

Your heart raced at Rin's words. when you raise your gaze to seek his’, you are met with a pair of half-lidded teal eyes staring right into you.

“You’re the one who’s worth it.”

Rin's words lingered in the air, leaving you utterly speechless. You never expected him to utter something so heartfelt – after all, this was Itoshi Rin. A man capable of almost anything, yet kind words seemed to be an exception. Then again, this was Rin, the very same man who believed he wasn't adept at love and yet chose to lay his heart bare in your palms, albeit a bit stubbornly.

As you struggled to find words to express how much his words meant to you, Rin gently raised his hands to wipe away the lingering tears in your eyes. His fingers brushed against the loose strands of hair nearly covering your eyes, tucking them away with meticulous care. His touch was so gentle that it’s almost hard to believe it was the same hands who mercilessly struck two men hours ago.

His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer until you were almost seated on his right leg. The closeness made your heart swell, and you couldn't help but nestle into his warmth.

“Stop crying, please?” he murmured, “you’re getting your snot in my shirt.” 

Way to ruin a moment. “I hate you,” you jokingly scoff against his neck.

“No, you don’t,” he disagrees, so full of conviction it needed some humbling.

“You bet? No kisses,” you see him smirk at your declaration, “until that cut completely heals,” you added, wiping that smirk on his face.

A laugh escaped you at the sudden shift in his expression. gone was the challenged smirk and all that's left are furrowed brows and a subtle pout. 

How dare you take that away from him? Maybe you do hate him, Rin is convinced.

“Still worth it, baby?” you ribbed, seemingly enjoying his misery.

“Yes.” with you finally smiling? Absolutely. You’re smiling, and sometimes, it’s enough and more – even for Itoshi Rin.

note. ode2RIN comeback because of rinturn 2023 (I KNOW IT'S LATE)

[gimmethatagustd]

wanna watch a sex tape | kth (ft. pjm)

When Taehyung invited you over to watch a movie, you didn’t think the movie he had in mind would be your sex tape… And you definitely didn’t think his roommate would want to watch, too.

↳ pairing: taehyung x reader x jimin

↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | frenemies to lovers | strangers to lovers | smut | a lil bit of fluff

↳ wc/date: 6.9k | August 2023

↳ warnings: no pronouns/gendered language for oc except "pussy", namjoon has mono and it's not the album (hahahaaa), homemade pornography, Big Dick Tae, exhibitionism, humiliation kink (but it's like... unintentional? tae isn't mean or anything), handjob, blowjob, deepthroating, facefucking, crying, anal and vaginal fingering, unprotected anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, creampie, subspace, sub!reader, soft!dom tae, switch!jimin ig, an insane amount of lube like way too much, they're all arguing with each other the entire time, tae tries to deepthroat a camcorder

↳ notes: lol yeahhh soooo... idk what's up with me and threesomes lately, but, uhhh, i'm too embarrassed to proofread this so i'll do it later hkjds

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? up! - lil vada & donnysolo

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

“It’s just a movie,” he’d said. “What’s wrong with two friends watching a movie? It’s Netflix and chill in the most literal way, I promise,” he’d insisted. 

So why does Taehyung have pulled up what appears to be a video editing software instead of Netflix? 

You sit with your back against Taehyung’s headboard and your legs tucked beneath you while you watch him place his laptop on the bed in front of you. The moment he presses play, you feel all the blood drain from your body. 

“Kim Taehyung, turn that the fuck off!” you screech. You lunge forward to slap the space bar, effectively pausing the video. “Why? Why why why why why?” 

“You said I could pick the movie,” Taehyung says with a slight pout. 

“This is not a fucking movie!”  

There on the screen, with a fucking sepia filter, is a still of Taehyung’s fingers lodged deep between your thighs. The tendons and veins in his wrist and forearm pop to the surface from the thrusting motion. In the second it took to pause the video, you’d heard your own breathy moans blare from the laptop’s speakers.

This is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you in your entire life. Probably in anyone’s life! You’re living a nightmare. 

“You’re right, it’s not a movie,” Taehyung sighs. He leans back on his palms and lets his head loll to the side as he stares at you blankly, almost as if he’s bored. It’s enraging how hot he looks. “It’s just raw footage. I have a lot of edits to make before I could call it a movie. For starters, I already hate the filter.”

Ears and cheeks aflame with invisible heat, you dig your fingers into the bed’s fluffy comforter to prevent yourself from clawing Taehyung’s eyes out. He’s genuinely insufferable and has been for as long as you’ve known him. 

You don’t know how you keep finding yourself in these unfortunate situations with Taehyung. The first time, he provoked you. How could you have reasonably walked away from him at Hoseok’s party when it was in your own fucking apartment? After he fucked your pussy and took a photo when you came? What were you supposed to have done?! You’d already tried kicking him out. The little shit just wiggled his way under your skin and made you itch. 

The whole striptease thing hadn’t been your fault, either. Hoseok had a whole conversation with you about not “scaring away” his friends as if it’s somehow on you that his friends are all annoying. But you love Hoseok, no matter how difficult he makes your life sometimes, and you told yourself that you would do better to be nice. Helping Taehyung with his college photography assignment seemed like a nice way to hold out an olive branch to the asshole. How could you have known that it would end with, with, with a sex tape?

Because that’s what this is on Taehyung’s laptop. A fucking sex tape. 

You made a sex tape with Kim fucking Taehyung, the most infuriating man on the planet, and now you’re sitting on his bed while he explains his editing software like this is the most normal thing you could be doing on a Friday night. 

“Are you even listening?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. His fingers hover over the trackpad, posed to click on the video’s play button. 

You swat his hand away, and he yelps. 

“Stop it right now,” you snap. “We are not watching this.” 

You’re so embarrassed that your entire body is on fire. The skin at the nape of your neck prickles, and your stomach swoops so severely that you’re afraid you might pass out from how difficult it is to inhale. It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s previous look of irritation has morphed into something slimy and smug. 

Of course, the universe is never on your side. Assuming Taehyung will let this go is nothing more than a pipe dream. 

“You’re that upset about it?” Taehyung isn’t sincere when he asks. 

Using the arrow keys, he fast-forwards through the video. Despite your embarrassment, you can’t take your eyes off the frames as they quickly flash across the screen. Taehyung lingers momentarily on a part of the video that makes the heat in your face travel south. 

Most people look better in real life than in photos, but Taehyung is flawless no matter the circumstance. His sharp, dark eyes stare back at you through the screen. From the angle his head is tilted, his eyes have a narrowed, almost sleepy appearance as he looks through his eyelashes at the camera. You can only see the top half of his face because the lower half is buried between your thighs. 

You straighten your posture and clasp your hands in your lap. Forcing yourself to look away from the laptop is hard, and you hate yourself for being so affected by the image of Taehyung eating you out. It was a fluke. A mistake. Something fueled by lust and some weird desire for you to prove that… what? You could fuck him, and it mean nothing? 

“This is the best part.”

You don’t want to look again, but you do. It isn’t Taehyung’s comment that draws you toward the laptop once more, but another voice. Your own. 

“I liked you better when you were crying and begging for me like a good boy.” 

In the moment, you thought you’d been snappy and clever when you said that line – meant to be an insult more than anything. Listening to it now, you’re ashamed to hear something far more… suggestive to your tone. Had it really been like that? Or are you overanalyzing now?

“I can still be a good boy for you like this…”

Taehyung’s rough, fucked-out voice makes your entire body tense. It was fucking hot when he said it then, and hearing it again only confirms that, yes, it was fucking hot. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin and broken moans flood the room. Watching yourself on video is surreal, a version of you that you wouldn’t otherwise ever know. Most people live their entire lives without knowing what they look like when they’re having sex – not like this. And here you are, watching a version of you fuck yourself on Taehyung’s cock in the very bed you sit on right now. 

“Honestly, I’m offended that you don’t even appreciate how well I edited these shots. They all flow so seamlessly; didn’t you notice?” 

For some reason, the pout Taehyung wears tugs at your heart in a way you wish it wouldn’t. He just looks so genuine. 

“Taehyung,” you speak sternly, hoping you can set the tone for a more serious conversation. Even though your face isn’t in the video, you’re still a little nervous about what Taehyung will do with it. 

Another part of you is very turned on because the video is still playing, and even though you’re looking at Taehyung, you can see the movement out of the corner of your eye. It only gets worse when Taehyung’s moans grow louder. 

“Yeah?” 

Taehyung’s lips part slightly. You watch him run his tongue against the inside of his cheek with your heart hammering in your chest and heat pooling between your legs. Taehyung exhales in real life, the sound soft and shaky, at the exact moment he cums in the video. 

Whatever you were about to say evaporates from your mind like mist in the wind because he sounds so pretty. 

Fucking hell. 

“What?” Taehyung tries again to get an answer from you, but you can’t speak. 

By now, you’re thoroughly wet, to the point that your thighs feel damp from being pressed together. Your underwear is uncomfortable when you shift, and you wish you’d worn more than a pair of baggy basketball shorts. They go well with your cute cropped hoodie and the Nikes you left at Taehyung’s front door. At least they’re black, so there’s no chance your arousal will be seen through your clothes. 

The last thing you need is for Taehyung to know you’re turned on.

“Nothing,” you finally respond, tearing your gaze from his face. 

The new view is worse, though. You immediately look down and see the last frame of the video. Taehyung’s cock rests on your bare ass, cum splattered on your cheeks and lower back, his cock shiny and slick. You breathe in sharply and seal your fate because Taehyung immediately pounces on that tiny detail. 

“I know you liked it,” Taehyung goads, his pout morphing into the classic grin you’ve grown to both hate and love. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

You twist around to face him fully. “Listen here, you little piece of–” 

It’s like deja vu, really, how your eyes fall to look at the bulge in Taehyung’s pants. This time, he’s wearing light grey sweatpants that are a little tight in the crotch, showing a clear outline of his cock resting along his thigh. The fabric at the head of his cock is darker than the rest, a wet spot that has your body throbbing with desire. 

Perhaps from the attention, Taehyung’s cock kicks up, twitching in the confines of his sweats. He lets out a quiet, breathy laugh. 

“I’m listening.” 

Taehyung reaches over to squeeze your knee when you still don't speak. Slowly, he glides his hand up your thigh. Once he reaches the hem of your shorts, he lifts his gaze from where his hand is hot on your skin to your face. His eyes lock with yours as he slips his hand into the leg of your shorts and continues following the inside of your thigh. 

Despite Taehyung’s body heat, you shiver from his touch as he travels higher and higher. It tickles, but you bite your lip and force yourself to stay still. The only part of you that moves is your chest as you rapidly take shallow breaths. It does nothing to calm you down; if anything, it worsens everything. You’re working yourself up to the point that you’re gushing in your underwear.

Taehyung’s fingers trace along the elastic, and you know he can feel how soaked you are. His gaze weighs heavy on you, eyes dark and lidded. He presses his fingers against your underwear and drags them along your lips, lightly increasing his pressure to massage your clit. 

“Oh,” you let out with a gasp, digging your fingers into the comforter. You automatically open your legs further, allowing Taehyung better access. He continues rubbing your clit through your underwear, his movements too slow and light for your liking. “Taehyung…” 

“Hm?” He’s so fucking smug you want to slap him, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

“Just, fucking, just–” 

Your desperate request for him to just fucking finger you already is cut off by Taehyung’s bedroom door flying open. With an embarrassing scream, you practically leap off Taehyung’s bed. 

“Taehyungieeee! I was supposed to hang out with Namjoon hyung, but he canceled because he got fucking mono. Can you believe? Who gets mono at almost thirty years old? Seriously! I asked him who he’s been making out with, but he–” 

The dark-haired man stops midsentence with his jaw hanging off its hinges. Wide, unsuspecting eyes flit from your look of horror to the outline of Taehyung’s dick in his pants to Taehyung’s hand now resting on your knee. But what’s somehow the most embarrassing thing is that the man’s eyes eventually land on Taehyung’s laptop, where his dick and your ass are still on display. 

“Oh wow.” 

Taehyung lets out a long groan and lets his head roll backward. 

“This is exactly why I tell you to knock before you come in here.” 

“W-what!” The man sputters. “This is my fault?” 

After a moment of staring at the ceiling, Taehyung levels his gaze to stare at the man. “Did you knock?” 

The man looks pained when forced to say, “No…” 

You would rather die than be here right now. You watch the two men begin bickering about proper roommate etiquette because this is apparently Taehyung’s roommate, Jimin, who you didn’t know even existed. A convenient thing to leave out, right? Of course, Taehyung wouldn’t fucking tell you that there’s the possibility that someone might be in the apartment with you. 

“Well, what are you watching?” Jimin walks toward the bed to get a better look at Taehyung’s laptop. “Fuck, that guy’s cock is huge. What’s this on?” 

“Oh my god, Taehyung, make it go away!” You finally hiss, slapping Taehyung in the arm to make him do something.

Taehyung throws his head back in a fit of laughter, which makes you slap him even harder. 

“That’s me.” 

Jimin nearly chokes. “Excuse me?”

The look on Taehyung’s face is a mix of pride and mischief. He’s absolutely glowing, absorbing all the praise, even if it’s accidentally given. 

“That is my cock. And the ass…” Taehyung jabs his thumb in your direction, much to your displeasure. 

“Oh,” Jimin exclaims. “Your ass looks great.” 

“For fuck’s sake, I need to get out of here.” 

“No!” Taehyung reaches for your arm to keep you from getting up. “We haven’t even fully watched it yet.” 

You narrow your eyes and gesture in Jimin’s direction. Even if you wanted to watch the sex tape – which you definitely don’t – you can’t watch it with Taehyung’s roommate hovering over you like this. You don’t even understand why the guy is still here or how he and Taehyung can converse normally while Taehyung’s got a literal erection. 

Boys are so fucking weird. 

“Can I watch, too?” 

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. There’s no way, no fucking way. And yet Taehyung’s already nodding and scooting over for Jimin to sit on the other side of him. 

“I worked so hard on this, and it’s going unappreciated.” Taehyung glares at you. 

Before you can react, Taehyung has restarted the video. His hand migrates from your arm back down to your knee and squeezes lightly, maybe in an attempt to be comforting, but you’re already beginning to die inside from embarrassment. 

It doesn’t help that Jimin is gorgeous. You find yourself admiring him as he watches the video, which Taehyung has now turned on with full volume. Jimin’s eyes are glued to the screen. Occasionally, he makes little comments to praise Taehyung’s editing skills or point out how you and Taehyung have “great chemistry.” But the most intriguing part is when Jimin begins to squirm. 

It’s still early in the video, just after Taehyung starts eating you out, when you notice Jimin’s hand move to rest in his lap. It isn’t subtle how he adjusts his erection in his jeans, but he doesn’t know that you’re staring at him.

There’s something about knowing that this complete stranger is now hard because of watching your porn that rekindles the arousal buzzing inside you. It doesn’t help that Jimin and Taehyung are right; the video is hot. It’s ridiculously hot. 

Distracted, you don’t realize Taehyung’s attention is no longer on the video like Jimin’s is. Instead, he’s got his eyes on where his hand disappears into your shorts again. This time, he wiggles his fingers inside your underwear. 

The first press of his fingertips against your clit makes you moan, high-pitched and desperate. You immediately slap your hand over your mouth, and Taehyung chuckles. 

“Y’know, I was thinking…” Taehyung begins, noticing that Jimin’s now watching his fingers move in your shorts. “We should make another video.” 

“You should,” Jimin agrees immediately with a nod. It’s eager, without shame, and that alone makes your pussy throb for some reason. 

Are you into exhibitionism? Is that what this is? What the fuck is going on?

“No way,” you try to protest, but another moan comes from deep in your chest when Taehyung slips his middle finger inside you. 

“I could film it,” Jimin offers, as though finding a director is the issue. His chest rises rapidly as his pretty eyes roam your body. 

Just as before, you let your legs spread. By now, Taehyung isn’t trying to hide what he’s doing. He openly fingers you with his roommate sitting right there, watching. You lean back on your palms and let your head fall back when Taehyung squeezes your thigh with his other hand to hold you open. 

“Yeah, Chim, you film it,” Taehyung agrees. “Baby? Wanna do it now?” He slips a second finger inside you, and you think it’s unfair that he’s asking you this while fingers you because you’d probably do anything to get him to fuck you right now, whether you want to admit it or not. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss. “Fine.” 

With a grin, Taehyung removes his fingers from you. You want to complain, but he and Jimin are off the bed by the time you sit up again. You sit there, dumbfounded, as Taehyung heads to his closet. Jimin trails behind him, nodding at the instructions Taehyung gives him. 

The two return to the bed once they each have a camcorder. They’re smaller than the one Taehyung used before, sleeker, and more colorful compared to the all-black, more heavy-duty one from before. 

Taehyung sets his camera on the bed next to you while Jimin fiddles with his from where he stands at the edge of the bed. 

“Take your clothes off, baby.” 

You bite your lip at the term of endearment you’ve always told Taehyung not to call you, that he calls you anyway. This time, there’s something different about it. You watch him shred his clothes, tossing his t-shirt to the floor and then dropping his sweatpants. As you expected, he isn’t wearing underwear. The sight of his cock, so big and hard that it hangs heavy between his legs, makes you finally start moving. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you throw out just because you have to stay in character unless you want Taehyung to think you’re in love with him or something. 

But he grins like an idiot and kneels on the bed while he waits for you to strip. You thought it would be weird getting naked in front of a stranger, but excitement thrums through you as you think about Jimin’s eyes on you, filming you, while Taehyung fucks you. 

“Should we do introductions like they do in those casting videos?” Taehyung grins up at Jimin. 

The poor guy’s face is bright pink, and his forehead glistens with sweat. Nothing has even happened yet, but he’s completely hard and looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. His hands shake worse than yours had when Taheyung ate you out in the video. 

“Chim.” 

Jimin swallows but doesn’t speak. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung tries again. It seems like Taehyung has a knack for leaving people speechless. He moves to the edge of the bed, still on his knees, and leans forward slightly. Jimin must be too nervous to move because he stands completely still as Taehyung opens his mouth. 

You watch with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as Taehyung takes the flip screen of the camcorder into his mouth. All the while, he keeps his eyes locked on Jimin’s.

It’s so fucking hot you have to look away. 

Finally, something snaps. Jimin jerks backward, pulling the camera out of Taehyung’s mouth. 

“Tae!” He exclaims in disbelief, quickly using his sleeve to clean the screen. “What is wrong with you?” 

“If you wanna join us so bad, hurry up and take your clothes off.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your dick spoke for you.”  

Jimin takes his eyes off Taehyung to look at you. It’s an unspoken request you find yourself granting by nodding your head without even thinking. How could you deny a man that looks like that? Whatever happens, happens. But you know that you want them both if you can have them. The thought just never crossed your mind before. 

It seems that Taehyung has helped you learn a lot about yourself, like how you apparently get off on being embarrassed. 

“I don’t want to fuck you,” Jimin announces to Taehyung. He tries to look serious, but it’s hard not to laugh when his dick bobs from how quickly he tugged his jeans off his body. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to fuck you either; shut up.” 

You thought it would be awkward having Taehyung and Jimin in bed with you, and it is, sort of. Uncharted territory is scary, no matter what it is. It must be evident that you’re feeling this way because Taehyung reaches for you. He pulls you close by the back of the head, and you think the kiss will be rough and charged. Instead, it’s soft. He moves his lips with yours in a gentle rhythm, something meant to be grounding and comforting. His other hand cradles the side of your face, and his thumb caresses your cheek. 

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin’s comment makes you pull back from Taehyung. 

“No, we’re not.” 

“Thank you.”

You scowl at Taehyung, but he’s still wearing that grin that’s getting harder to hate. It slowly fades into something darker once Taehyung finally looks at your body, eyes lingering on how shiny and wet your thighs are from him fucking you with his fingers. 

Taehyung bites his lip, reaching for the camcorder on the bed beside you. 

“Let me record Jimin fucking your face, baby.” 

You and Jimin gasp simultaneously, immediately turning your heads to look at each other. Even though it’s clear that Jimin was invited into this to have sex with you, too, for some reason, you thought Taehyung would be greedier. You thought he wouldn’t want to share, didn’t expect that he’d be the one calling the shots. 

Then again, it isn’t that surprising. Hasn’t Taehyung always called the shots? Sure, you let him, but he was good at it. A director. He’s in his element, you realize. 

You quickly realize, once Jimin’s cock is down your throat, that Jimin is the greedy one. He kneels directly in front of where you sit on the bed and digs his fingers into the back of your head to hold you still as he fucks your throat. 

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. He kneels next to you, recording all the sloppy sounds and visuals of you messily gagging on Jimin’s cock while you jerk Taehyung off. 

Tears spill from your eyes as Jimin’s cock hits the back of your throat. You do your best to keep pumping Taehyung’s cock, but your rhythm falters. 

“Fuck, yes, swallow. Like that.” 

Jimin’s moans are different than Taehyung’s. While Taehyung’s moans are soft and deep, Jimin’s are high-pitched and erratic, coming in stunted waves rather than smooth like Taehyung’s. They sound pretty together, even if they’re so different. 

You can tell Jimin won’t last as long as Taehyung, though. He has to pull away from you very quickly, which is fine because you gasp for air, leaning forward slightly to catch your breath. 

“Don’t go so fucking hard,” Taehyung snaps once he sees your reaction. 

“Wha–” Jimin’s eyes grow wide. 

“I’m fine.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re genuinely okay. You pat Taehyung on the thigh to reassure him because, well, it’s kind of cute that he cared enough to chastise his friend like that. 

Taehyung reaches down to wipe the tears from your cheeks with a stern look that feels strange coming from him. “Let’s take care of you, okay, baby?” 

It’s soft, the way he talks to you. It isn’t for the cameras. 

“I wanna go first. You got your chance before,” Jimin whines.

“Why don’t you ask me then?” 

Jimin crosses his arms against his chest. “May I fuck you first?”

“Sure,” you say with a shrug. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but despite the annoyed look on his face, he flops backward onto the bed. The motion causes his cock to slap against his hip, and he groans, slightly rolling on his side. 

“See, stop being such a drama queen,” Jimin chides.

You let out a rather unattractive snort that makes Jimin grin. 

“I like him.”

“Shut up.” 

For once, Taehyung doesn’t have a witty comeback or a stupid smirk to flash your way. Instead, his face twists into something unpleasant. The expression quickly dissolves, and you almost feel like you’ve imagined it. 

Taehyung leans back on his elbows and looks down at where you settle between his legs. Even when Jimin moves to kneel behind you, Taehyung’s eyes never leave yours except to check the flipped screen of his camcorder. 

“Wait, use this.” Taehyung sits up, and his cock is suddenly very close to your face. He reaches over to open his nightstand drawer, nearly ripping the entire thing out. “A lot of it.” 

Something passes between Taehyung and Jimin’s hands. You only glimpse it, but between what you see and the sound of a cap popping open, you know it’s a half-empty bottle of lube that Jimin is now squeezing all over your ass.

“What the hell,” you hiss as the cool liquid drips down your thighs. “Might as well dump the whole fucking thing on me, shit.” 

You refuse to admit that it feels nice having Jimin massage the lube into your skin. It heats up quickly, and his hand easily glides across your muscles. You feel yourself sink forward, lifting your lower half to give Jimin more access. In the midst of how good Jimin’s hand feels, something cold and hard presses against your lower back.  

“If you ruin my camera, Jimin–” 

“That’s hyung to you.” 

“No fucking way.” 

Their banter would be cute if you didn’t have your ass in the air and Taehyung’s dick mere inches from your face. And maybe if you didn’t fucking hate Taehyung and weren’t wary of Jimin at best. 

“Are we gonna do something, or…?” 

Taehyung fluffs a pillow behind his head to keep him propped up so he’ll have a better shot for filming. 

“Yeah, put it in your mouth.” 

You roll your eyes because there Taehyung goes, bossing you around again, but something deep inside whispers that you fucking like it. Not that you would say it out loud. You can’t help how your pussy gushes over him, though. It’s a betrayal, honestly. 

“Say, please.” 

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you. “No.” 

You don’t have a chance to bitch him out because Jimin chooses that moment to slowly inch his cock inside of you. 

“Oh my god,” you moan with your lips brushing against the base of Taehyung’s cock. You rock back gently, helping Jimin ease into you.  

“So tight,” Jimin says once his hips are flat against your thighs and his cock is fully buried inside you.

“Right?” Taehyung murmurs. “You always feel so good.”  

It’s a bit difficult to bob your head along Taehyung’s cock when Jimin’s fucking into you like his life depends on it. The rhythm is all off, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind. He’s watching you with fucking stars in his eyes, hyperfocused on where your lips suckle the head of his cock. When you take more of him into your mouth, he switches the camcorder to his right hand and reaches out to you with his left. 

Taehyung runs his thumb along your upper lip, shallowly dipping into the corner of your mouth to feel how little space there is with your mouth full of his cock. 

“Don’t run away; you gotta take it,” Jimin grunts, squeezing your waist and pulling you back hard onto his cock. 

You want to snap at Jimin that it’s not your fault you keep getting lurched forward, but Taehyung’s letting out cute little whimpers from you rubbing your tongue against his slit, and you don’t want to do anything to make him stop. 

When you finally pull off Taehyung to breathe, a string of spit connects your lips to his shiny cock. 

“Can I fuck you in the ass, baby?” Taehyung practically hums the question, his voice already fucked out, deep and hoarse. “I think we need to diversify our portfolio.” 

At the question, Jimin slows down his thrusts until they’re shallow and don’t jostle you too severely.

You’re nodding before your brain can catch up to how your body reacts to Taehyung’s request. 

“Jimin?” 

“On it, boss.” 

You mean to groan in annoyance at how fucking corny they are – as if they’re actually trying to make this into a bad porno – but a moan comes out instead as Jimin slowly presses a generously lubed finger against your rim. 

“Have you done this before?” Jimin asks, working you open with one finger before moving on to a second.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, the sensation of Jimin’s cock still moving inside you while his fingers are in your ass enough to make you lose your mind. Even if you hadn’t fingered yourself before, the amount of lube Jimin poured all over your ass removes nearly all the friction and tension. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Taehyung groans in an almost frustrated tone. He reaches down to pump his cock since you’re virtually useless with Jimin’s fingers and cock moving inside of you simultaneously. 

“Oh my god, Jimin.” You bury your face in the inside of Taehyung’s thigh, biting down just to ground yourself.

“Shit, that hurts,” Taehyung hisses, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. 

Once Jimin has four fingers inside of you, he leans forward to get closer to ask you if you’re ready.

“Do you want us at the same time?”  

Something that almost sounds pained comes from Taehyung, a broken whimper you’ve never heard from him before. He squeezes his eyes shut and nods his head even though the question isn’t for him. 

“Please, fuck, Y/N, please say yes.” 

You can’t even appreciate hearing Taehyung beg because you’re desperate for this, too. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just, let’s go.” You get up, nearly slipping from all the lube that has dripped down onto your body and Taehyung’s. 

“I don’t understand how Taehyung ended up not doing any of the work,” Jimin grumbles as he helps you turn around. 

You’re hardly paying attention to the men’s bickering. They can do whatever weird bromance thing they’re doing, but you’re trying to get doubly dicked down. Cameras or not. 

You sit on Taehyung’s abdomen with your legs on either side of his thighs and face Jimin. Taehyung’s large hands squeeze your waist to lift you up while Jimin grabs Taehyung’s cock to guide the head to your rim. 

“I can’t believe I have to touch your dick,” Jimin adds to his list of grievances that you’re sure Taehyung will never hear the end of. 

Taehyung just laughs, causing your body to jiggle in his tight grip. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” 

Jimin grimaces. “I really don’t.” 

It’s surprising that the two have never done this before when it feels so natural for the three of you to fall into place like this. 

Eventually, Jimin lets go of Taehyung’s cock once the tip pushes inside you. Taehyung feels much bigger than you remember, and Jimin’s fingers certainly don’t compare. Luckily, Taehyung is gentle as he pushes past the ring of muscles. Thank god for the ridiculous amount of lube. It allows you to sink down on Taehyung’s cock with only mild discomfort at first. 

“Relax, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. His hands slide up to squeeze your tits, rubbing and pinching your nipples as you eventually slide fully onto his cock. 

“O-o-okay,” you stutter as Jimin kneels between you and Taehyung’s legs. 

Jimin’s slow as he eases his cock into your pussy, mindful of the pressure you will feel with both cocks inside you. He pauses when he’s halfway in to squeeze even more lube onto his cock, making sure there’s enough to drip down to Taehyung’s, too. 

“What are we filming, a fucking lube ad? What is this?” 

“Shh, baby, you’re gonna ruin the audio,” Taehyung scolds from behind you. 

Biting your lip, you watch Jimin’s face as he concentrates on sliding into you. He’s pretty, sweet even, but… he’s not Taehyung. 

“Wait.” 

Jimin’s bright eyes flit up to meet yours. Concern twists his features, making his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you okay?” 

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt? Did we not prep you enough?” Taehyung tries to sit up, but Jimin slaps his thigh.

“Stop moving!” 

“I just wanna know what’s going on!” 

Taehyung rubs comforting circles into your sides, sliding his thumbs down to trace your hip bones before running his palms back across your ribs. 

You shake your head and try not to think about what you’re going to say.

“I… I want to,” your face heats up, and you internally scold yourself for feeling the way you do. “I want Tae.” 

Your words are rushed, but Jimin seems to understand – perhaps even more than what you’ve let on because he gives you a small smile and eases out of you without any questions. 

“What?” Taehyung peers from around your body.  

“No assfucking for you, buddy. Better luck next time.” 

“Jimin!” It’s your turn to haul a slap, this one hard against Jimin’s arm. “I’m a person.”

At least Jimin has enough sense to appear bashful. Grabbing your arms, he helps you lift off of Taehyung. He guides you so you’ve got your knees on either side of Taehyung’s hips. 

When you straddle Taehyung, you press your palms to his chest and dig your fingers into his firm pecs. He’s gorgeous like this, skin smooth and tan. A few moles scatter his torso, like little flecks of chocolate that you suddenly realize you’ve missed out on having the chance to lick up. His cheeks are dusted a light pink, and his sweaty bangs are brushed away from his forehead. 

He’s gorgeous all the time, but especially like this. 

“See something you like?” 

You dig your nails into his skin, and Taehyung winces, but he maintains that stupid fucking sparkle of mischief in his eyes. 

“Shut up. Maybe.” 

Taehyung’s grin widens. It’s bright and lopsided, makes him look like an idiot, honestly, and your stomach swoops because, fuck, you’re so fucked. 

“Are you two lovebirds ready or what? My dick is starting to hurt.” 

Taehyung apparently thinks slapping your ass is the best way to respond to Jimin’s question. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guide Taehyung’s cock inside your pussy. The unholy amount of lube makes it easy for him to slip in, which is good because you need to focus on relaxing your body once you feel Jimin’s cock press against your rim. 

You’ve never had two dicks at once – god, it sounds insane when you think about it, even though you know plenty of people who have explored this side of their sexual fantasies. It just isn’t something you’d do, mainly because you’ve always been insecure and a little shy. The hardass exterior is a great wall you’ve built to hide from getting your heart broken, but of course, Taehyung has managed to fuck with all your plans. 

It’s a strange sensation once Jimin fully bottoms out. The three of you freeze, allowing your body to adjust. 

After a while, Taehyung grabs your ass, holding you open as he and Jimin slowly begin to rock into you. As it was when you were sucking Taehyung off, it’s a bit difficult to find the right rhythm at first. Taehyung and Jimin bicker back and forth about who should thrust first and who should pull back. Taehyung jostles you in his lap a few times, squeezing your thighs to adjust your legs against his hips when he isn’t kneading your ass. 

Jimin eventually pushes down on your back, pressing you against Taehyung to open your hips more. The action pushes your chest into Taehyung’s face, much to his amusement, because he immediately sucks one of your perky nipples into his mouth. 

“Oh god,” you moan, reaching out to squeeze Taehyung’s broad shoulders when he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue. His mouth is wet and warm, and your nipples have always been extra sensitive when you’re aroused. 

“Fuck, Tae, just, go now,” Jimin instructs through gritted teeth. 

Taehyung begins thrusting into you at a different tempo, knocking your heart into your throat because you can feel both of their cocks alternating thrusts inside of you now, both rubbing against each other between your walls. 

It’s embarrassing when the first wave of tears starts streaming down your face. You start babbling, hardly aware of what you’re saying because the pleasure is so intense it feels as though your brain completely short circuits. 

“Tae, Tae, oh my god, Taehyung,” you breathily chant into Taehyung’s ear. You can’t lean far forward because you have to keep your back arched for both Jimin and Taehyung to comfortably thrust into you. That frustrates you because you suddenly feel the need to be closer to Taehyung. It’s like everything inside of you will explode if you don’t. 

“Tae, I n-need y-y-you,” you sob. 

“Shhh, baby, we got you, okay? I got you.” Taehyung reaches up to lightly wrap his hand around your throat. It isn’t meant to choke you, just to comfort you with his presence since he can’t hold you against his chest. 

“Dropping?” Jimin asks as he pounds into you from behind. 

“Just sensitive, I think,” Taehyung responds for you, and it makes you warm to know that he knows you well enough to answer correctly.

His hand slides from your throat to hold your jaw. The position allows him to press his middle finger into your mouth. You immediately suck on it, finding comfort in it even as you continue to cry from the pleasure. 

“I’m gonna cum. Tae. I’m gonna cum.” 

Taehyung’s hand quickly drops to squeeze between your bodies. He rubs your clit, adding the extra sensation you need to finally push you over the edge. You cry out Taehyung’s name as you cum on both his and Jimin’s cocks, fingers digging into Taehyung’s pecs so hard that you worry you’ll draw blood. 

Jimin immediately cums, too, the feeling of your ass clenching around his cock proving too much for him. 

“Wait, wait,” he pleads until Taehyung stops moving. “Let me pull out.” 

You whimper when you feel Jimin ease out of you, your ass clenching and unclenching as your body adjusts. Now that only Taehyung is inside you, you collapse against his chest. Your lips find his neck and suck, making him shiver underneath you. 

“Can I move?” Taehyung asks, and you hum, too afraid to speak. 

Taehyung fucks into you harder than he had before. There’s something desperate about it, the way he chases his pleasure and can thrust at the speed he wants without needing to match with Jimin. You don’t even know what Jimin’s doing, probably cleaning himself up or filming you. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is how Taehyung moans your name as he thrusts into you. It’s sloppy and wet, something Taehyung appreciates. 

“You sound so good,” he moans into your ear. “Will you cum for me again?” 

You frantically nod your head, already almost there. 

“Just let go for me, okay? You can trust me.” 

It feels like more than just sex when he whispers it in your ear, another quiet promise meant for you and not the camera. 

You cum for a second time, this one accompanied by a silent scream that’s pressed into the crook of Taehyung’s sweaty neck. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Taehyung groans, squeezing you against his chest as he finally finds his release, too. 

You feel warm and gooey, none of your limbs cooperating when Taehyung tries to move you off him. Jimin has to help, and the two lay you on your back and get to work cleaning you up. It should be embarrassing, but you kind of like having two men doting on you. It’s nice, even if you’re still a little sticky from cum and lube, even after they’ve done their best to wipe your body down. 

Why haven’t you ever done this before? This is lovely. Men should be taking care of you. 

You smile at them, brain fuzzy and warm, when Jimin helps Taehyung tuck you into bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, caressing it lightly. 

“I’m barely holding on.” 

Jimin snorts and immediately turns his head away when Taehyung shoots him a death glare. 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” The nervousness in Taehyung’s voice is cute. 

“You’re cute.” 

Rather than say something smug, Taehyung covers his face with his hands. 

“We broke Y/N.” 

“What?” Jimin whips his head back around. “What, because you’re cute?” 

“Yes.” 

You use the rest of your strength to slap Taehyung in the thigh. “Oh, shut the fuck up before I kick your ass. Take the fucking compliment.” 

Taehyung peeks at you from between his fingers. “Fuck, you scared me for a second there.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Jimin stands up and stretches his arms out. “You’re both fucking drama queens.” 

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

----

some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

[ryescapades]

lover boy | kaiju no. 8

"𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬, 𝐬��� 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰."

— just them simply being down bad for you. (alt: what i think their primary love language is and how it’s expressed)

characters: hoshina soshiro, narumi gen, ichikawa reno x platoon leader gn!reader genre/warning: fluff fluff fluff, petnames (hoshina), whipped bois, the aforementioned love languages are not specifically stated (though it’s kinda obvious) a/n: u can actually tell which one is my favourite (none bcs i love them all sm ugh) also idk if it's actually canon that they do patrols in the defense force but for the sake of the plot it is canon k

being a platoon leader is a tiring job.

that's quite literally the simplest way to put it. you don't just get your unleashed combat power up to a certain level and march in to the battlefield fighting kaiju; you've got a bunch of soldiers put under your care and now you're responsible for their lives too. not to mention the amount of paperwork and reports you have to get done in a short span of time.

but for you, being a platoon leader particularly in the third division, working so closely alongside its vice captain, the defense force's ever so reputable strongest close-quarters combatant, feels like a whole other job entirely.

"and according to the keynotes i've gathered from my and ikaruga's reports, we've concluded the pattern of these attacks— are you even listening?" your hand halts from pointing out the important points on the document, eyes twitching slightly at the sight of hoshina soshiro, once again, spacing out.

"oh, sorry. what were you sayin', sweetheart?" the man sitting beside you asks, the alluring accent thick as his frustratingly attractive face is propped up by a hand on the table and he's smiling innocently at you like he didn't just disregard everything you've been explaining for the past ten minutes or so.

you resist the urge to facepalm, exasperation bubbling inside of you. "vice captain, please. if i have to call you out again while i carry on with these reports, i might just lose it." you deadpan.

hoshina laughs, fanged and all the more cheeky. "alright, alright. i'll focus now, i promise. so what is it about the attacks?" he questions, though he does not move from his position— his very close, very personal position where your thighs are nearly brushing against each other might you add— as he looks at you with his crimson eyes now opened.

initially, you’re supposed to be reporting all these stuff straight to captain ashiro. but the reason why hoshina had asked you to meet up and convey them to him first is honestly beyond your comprehension.

"...if we are to proceed, firstly please stop that." you mutter slowly, looking away with a huff.

"hm? whatever do you mean, darlin'?" he gives you another one of his charming grin.

you finally relent. "stop looking at me like that!" with a grumble, you succumb to the embarrassment as you cover your beet red face with the back of your hand.

you're fine with the nicknames. you are. but not the sweet, loving look he keeps sending your way. the way his sharp gaze would soften, full of warmth and affection reserved only for you, not caring that other people could see how enchanted he is by everything that is you to the point you're the only thing that matters in his eyes.

oh, he would've given you the world if only you'd so much as ask him to.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the unfamiliar wooden object resting in-between the many piles of books on your table does not go unnoticed by you.

your steps falter, making a second take before moving to grab the item. it's a carving of a raccoon. it's smooth to the touch, intricate and small enough to fit in your palm.

this is the third time this week, you think to yourself, eyes glinting in wonderment as a tiny smile makes its way on to your face.

three times you'd found a piece of object, something or the other just laying around in your working space, albeit they were hidden in places that are fairly easy to spot. maybe that's exactly the point; for it to be noticed even though it's supposedly meant to stay concealed.

hours later, you're sitting with your fellow platoon leaders in the meeting room as hasegawa briefs you on updates for the division's patrols, reports, trainings and the likes. you glance at the corner of the room where narumi gen is lounging in his chair, his console held in his hands as the faint sound of a video game fills the room.

as the meeting finally ends, you gather up your belongings before rushing out the door, trying to catch up to a certain captain with dual-toned hair.

"captain narumi!" you call out.

you see the way his back freezes for a second at your voice before he turns, giving you an easy grin. "well if it isn't our platoon leader y/n. why, did you need anything from your amazing captain?" he boasts.

this time you're ever so oblivious to the way his eyes twinkle, body relaxing at the sound of your responding laugh. "no, captain. just wanted to say good work for today! and i'll be doing patrol with you tomorrow so hopefully we can give it our best tomorrow as well." you chime.

he's about to reply when you add in, "also thank you for the raccoon carving, captain. though i'm kind of wondering why that animal specifically. but it's still cute so i guess it's the thought that counts."

at that narumi tenses, rosy irises darting away before he trips over his words, "y-you better not think anything of it! it just so happened that i came across that thing while i was on patrol yesterday." he grits, ears flushing red at the tips as he points a finger at your amused face almost accusingly.

it's the same reasoning— or rather, excuse— like the previous times.

"eh... is that so? well, i'm still thankful you decided to gift it to me." you reply, smiling so beautifully it almost had him falling to his knees and confessing about how much he adores you.

you don't know that, of course. what you also don't know is that the gift is extremely well-thought out by narumi (and so are the previous…trinkets, you’d call them). you'd once mentioned in passing that a raccoon reminds you so much of him, of how the dual-toned fur and its silliness resemble your captain so much.

and silly as he may be, he wouldn't pass up the chance of that you'd think of him whenever you look at the carving, just like how you occupy his mind almost every second of the day.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

that's sixteen headshots, seventeen, eighteen... your head continues to count the amount of targets you've shot down.

today you've taken it upon yourself to go to the shooting range, wanting to refine your gunning skills as the memory of the recent mission the third division had been assigned to flares in your mind.

vice-captain hoshina was right, the new recruits this year are an exceptionally talented bunch. they're something else alright, you ponder. but there's no way in hell you can afford to lose to these kids now. a grin grows on your face, your eyes never strayed from the moving targets in front of you.

"platoon leader y/n?" a familiar voice has you pausing from reloading your gun, swiveling your head to look to the side where the voice comes from.

"oh, officer reno! what are you doing here?" you ask, turning your body fully to face ichikawa as you put away your gun. you can only stare curiously as the silver-haired boy suddenly seems like he's blowing a fuse from how red his face has become.

he'll never get used to you calling him by his given name. it feels... intimate, somehow. or maybe he's just overthinking it, who knows. his admiration for you is probably too intense that it's making his brain all mushy.

"i-i should be the one asking you, senpai! it's been hours and it's so late already but you're still going at it?" he asks, making you blink a few times before you smirk teasingly after registering his words. "'still'? were you keeping tabs on me, reno?"

ichikawa blushes even harder, realizing what he just said. "i wasn't— that's not—yes?" he groans before sighing defeatedly as you laugh, feeling the fondness you've always held for him increases ever so slightly. "i was only joking, reno. no need to be so tense." you wave him off when you notice he's about to give an apologetic bow.

"so? is there anything that i can help you with?" you question with your head tilted to the side, a hand now resting on your hip. reno straightens up and takes in a deep breath. "i was hoping you're already done with your training. i, uh... i want to show you something, senpai."

a few minutes later, you find yourself following ichikawa as he leads the way, the two of you walking leisurely in the hallways of the tachikawa building. you slide your hands into the pockets of your uniform, taking note of the way his fists keep curling and uncurling, as if to relieve the strain his body holds.

the sight of the cafeteria greets you, and you make a confused noise at him as you enter the dining hall. the place is mostly dark, apart from the few dimly lit lamps hanging over your heads. "it's already closed at this hour, reno. if you're hungr- oh?" you halt in your steps when ichikawa moves to one of the long tables.

he's standing there, and in front of him there's two ceramic plates filled with a variety of food, each full to its edges. your eyes widen in surprise, looking up to see ichikawa rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"i figured you'd be staying in the range for quite a while... so i saved you some food, senpai. o-of course, if you're not hungry i can just keep these in the fridge for tomorrow or something- i don't, um... i didn’t know what food you'd like so i kind of just took some of everything...-"

you stop his nervous rambling with a hand on his shoulder. he sharply inhales, looking at you with his ears, cheeks, neck and everything in between burning hot. you ignore the way this lovely, endearing sight of him has your heart expanding almost to the point of combusting. "i'm definitely famished after all that training!" you chirp, saving him from his misery before approaching the table.

ichikawa smiles in relief, "i'm glad!" and then he tenses out of the blue, backing away a bit and bowing low to hide his embarrassment. "b-but please be assured i don't have any ulterior motive nor it's my intention to be unprofessional about it! i just thought i could be of a little help since you and the other senpai's are working so hard for us..." he clarifies, just realizing how inappropriate it'd be if somebody sees him acting so forward like this to you.

your sounding chuckle has him biting his lip, lifting his head to peer up at you. "i understand. well in that case," you move to grab a plate, pushing the other one to him with a pointed look. ichikawa's gaze light up in understanding.

"thank you for the food, reno." you say softly, sending him one last smile as you head towards the exit, leaving him to his own thoughts.

he'll work hard too. he'll work even harder than anyone else here. after all, there's no wall he wouldn't scale in order to become stronger. in order to fight alongside you, to be worthy of your equal.

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[melodic-haze]

h-hey 👯‍♀️😕😜🎀

Since you said in your other post that you wanted to write for either Miko or Ei, I HAD AN IDEA!!

What if Miko and fellow kitsune!Reader who start their breeding months (in january obviously) and have Ei volunteering herself to them not knowing that they can’t obviously be sated in just one day 🙄 (r.i.p her cunny)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: switch!Miko x sub!Ei x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader and Miko can shift what they want (specifically their genitals 😄), knotting and breeding (not really)

☆ — NOTES: You. YOUUUUUU. Are such a genius ily anon ty for this 🙏🙏🙏

Ohhhh this bitch REALLY fucked around and found out LOL I almost feel bad.......almost

Have to hand it to Ei though, she DID try to research before proposing the idea in the first place. Especially since this is set in the first year since she got out the PoE........but studying it obv won't be the same as the real thing LOL

You and Miko have fared relatively okay on your own—the two of you have ABSOLUTELY mated before to ease each other's heat but it always felt like something was missing. You both made sure to take procedures to make sure neither of you ever concieved a child after the process with the excuse of the two of you being way too busy to care for one but like. The actual main reason was that if you were to have a child, you both wanted to have the third piece of the puzzle there with you

Now that the third member of your polycule's back, your heats are STRONGER THAN EVER bc wtf she's acc here??? Ughfhghfhh neeeeeed......like do you get me I hope you do

It wasn't as if it was a normal discussion to have out in public (you both always talked about it indoors until neither of you needed to really talk ab it anymore from all the time spent w each other) but it was a nice picnic between the three of you; Ei's head was on Miko's thighs as she ate up yet ANOTHER skewer of tricolour dango while you were leaning on the latter's side when she brought it up

Ei cleared her throat with a slight tinge of nervousness, "Could I perhaps, ah.. assist the both of you in your mating period?"

You choked on the dango that you were about to swallow as you see Miko startle the slightest bit, nearly dropping her novel in the process.

When you managed to regain your composure (or at least a modicum of it), you could only rush out a simple "'scuse me?" as Miko placed her book down to the side with a raised brow.

Miko combed her fingers through Ei's hair as she questioned, "What brought this on, dear?"

"Well..." The Archon licked her lips as she slowly got her words out, "I've.. left you two for over five hundred years. And while I'm glad that you both had each other for company whenever the season hits, I cannot deny that.. well, I feel bad, I suppose."

"You feel bad," the shrine priestess mocked, which.. really, wasn't all that undeserved, despite the fact that she was mocking the nation's leader.

"For a lack of a better word, yes." She sits up and turns to the both of you, putting the now-empty skewer aside, "Now that I have returned from my admittedly self-imposed isolation, it would be remiss of me to.. avoid my duties as your lover."

"I don't mean to be rude, Your Excellency," you teased, "but do you even know what you're saying? You've been in the Plane of Euthymia for so long; I worry for your safety."

You hear the pink fox envoy let out a quiet snort of amusement for your slight condescension (all in good faith, of course) as Ei sighed, "I think you forget that I am not a fragile mortal who needs to be coddled—I can withstand brutal wars and come out victorious."

"Besides," she adds, "I have done a fair amount of research to refresh my knowledge. I assure you both that I can take whatever it is you give me."

Miko mused, "I thought you knew better than to rely on textbook information rather than actual experiment, Ei."

"You're trying much too hard to dissuade me from my offer."

"We both deserve to rib into you for at least a couple hundred years."

"Especially considering how we've been left to fend for ourselves..."

"I.. suppose I do deserve that. And I want to make amends for it all, starting with this. So.. will you let me help? Please?" She looked at the both of you with such sincerity despite the subject matter.

...

The fact that Raiden Ei herself was begging the two of you though...

The both of you jumped her sides with sharing grins, your ears flicking in sync as you let out your own laughs.

"You should hope that you don't regret that, Ei.."

"..Because we are rather.. insatiable."

Then comes the actual thing and ohhhhh girlie was NOT prepared

When I said your heats get worse bc of how Ei's back, I fucking MEAN IT. It's the fact that that familiar sweet smell isn't just a not-quite-forgotten memory for you two anymore that it's just driving you both abslutely NUTS

When she gets to you two she gets POUNCED ON and there is. Basically no break for her at all and foreplay is basically foreGONE atp tbh

Eat her cunt like a bitch STARVED it's like both you and Miko are competing and assisting each other at the same time like who can eat her out better, who can make her squirt, etc etc

SO MANY BITE MARKS ON HER HOLY SHIT like okay yes on you and Miko as well but both of you want to mark Ei EXTREMELY for all the time you've lost with her. The both of you wanna show both Ei and perhaps the entirety of Inazuma that archon is YOURS at the end of the day......at least, if the loud noises didn't give them enough of a hint 🤷‍♀️

You're so right anon rip Ei's cunny indeed bc both you and Miko ABUSE the living HELL out of it❗️❗️❗️ You do often have to personally pry Miko off when she's overstaying in the spot you're supposed to share 🫶🫶🫶🫶 just tell her she's being a VERY bad girl rn and she'll fold. Usually she wouldn't but the haze (lol) in her mind is sooo fucking thick she can't think straight and she can't think of the witty remarks she would've otherwise made :((( poor baby the only thing she wants to do is breed and get bred :(((((((

I need to spitroast her with Miko so very badly I'm ngl to you I neeeed I NEEEEED I need to see Ei being impaled on both ends, both sides basically slobbering

It'd be very messy and would 100% take so long before you finish but when you do, it's with your fellow kitsune's own pussy practically filled to the brim and Leaking as she's laid out and finally passed out as your hips are locked in on your Archon's own; you cumming inside of you for like the nth time and stuffing her full w a mix of both your and Miko's cum and essentially plugging it with an inflamed bulb :3

Whether Ei has a system that allows her to get pregnant or not, gen who knows.......but one thing's def for sure. Or like three things acc: one, you two are VERY clearly excited that your shared lover is finally back; two, turns out she absolutely LOVES being used and bred by her two partners; and three?

It was an unusually hard thing to do, waking up. Despite having an artifical body and being an archon that has faced true horrors and extreme exhaustion, she found herself absolutely spent from the marathon.. copulation.

Ei had hoped that her exhaustion meant that the two of you were much more tired than she was, even despite your inhumanity, and yet...

Her eyes couldn't help but flutter open as a sudden gasp left her lips—she sees you push into her roughly with a lust-addled look on your face. You were already inside her when she fell asleep, considering the animalistic knot that held the both of you together, but even when it had shrunk to a more.. manageable level, you still hadn't taken it out.

Then Ei looks slightly to the right and there she sees her pink-haired familiar, heavily breathing as she grinded her wet, hot pussy onto her thighs with such loud, obscene moans.

(If the Archon listened close enough, which she did, she would've noticed the slight growl to the sounds she made—such a sound was at its most clearest when she ducked down to press another bite mark on porcelain skin.)

She couldn't even utter a word to remark that she had just woken up, didn't even have the room to do anything to stop you before you started pounding away at her like your life depended on it.

..And she could. Really, she could. She wasn't the feared Raiden Shogun for nothing.

She could stop you if she wanted to.

If she wanted to.

But when she feels the residual fluids within her gush out as you essentially resculpt her insides over and over and over, when she feels the desperate whines that Miko lets out as she cums and covers her thigh in slick, well.

She finds that she doesn't really want to.

(And really, not only was it her fault for volunteering, but this is her responsibility as your lover.)

(She knew that, and she wasn't going to start shirking her responsibilities again.)

(Even if it costs her her mobility for a while. But it's fine, she can just do a lot of maintenance after.)

[random-thot-generator]

Try a Little Tenderness

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N

(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev. 

This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way. 

For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)

Word Count: 2777

It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.

[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten? 

Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.

[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.

[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.

He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.

You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.

“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.

“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“

“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”

He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.

“Wha’s that?”

“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”

Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.

“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.

You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.

And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.

“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”

You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.

He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.

He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.

“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”

You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.

You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”

Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?

Apparently, you did, at least to some extent. 

“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.

The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”

This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.

It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.

“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.

“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.

“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.

Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.

When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”

He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.

Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.

You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”

He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.

You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.

Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.

“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.

The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.

“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.

His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.

You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.

Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.

You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.

[lunarw0rks]

Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.

The Things We Say // 141 Drabble

Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.

Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n

A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.

⋘ » ☆ « ⋙

AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.

Price

One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.

Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.

His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?

The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.

He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.

❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.

John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.

But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.

To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.

John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.

—

❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.

❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.

What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.

In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞

—

The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.

His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.

❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.

The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.

His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.

John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 

Simon

Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.

It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.

❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.

Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.

❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 

Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.

He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.

It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.

He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?

❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.

—

Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.

Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.

You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.

Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.

Soap

Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.

❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.

He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.

He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.

The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.

❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.

You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.

❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.

Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.

He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.

You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.

❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.

❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.

You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.

Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.

—

It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.

❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.

❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.

Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.

If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.

With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.

The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.

All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.

Gaz

Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.

You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 

❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.

❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.

He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.

It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 

But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.

His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.

—

❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.

Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.

—

❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.

What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.

❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.

It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.

Alejandro

Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.

What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.

❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞

You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.

Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.

❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞

Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.

It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞

—

Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.

You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.

About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.

The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.

The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.

—

The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.

Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.

König

There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 

You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞

With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞

He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?

❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.

How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.

He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.

Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.

The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.

—

❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.

He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.

He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.

König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.

Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.

If you made it this far - THANK YOU!

[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!

[wettvagina]

ex for a reason

CONTAINS: p in v , infedility , pussy eating

ıllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllı

Chewing on your bottom lip, you tugged on the hem of your dress for the fifteenth time tonight, on your list of regrets, coming to this stupid college party was on the top of it, coming right after, was wearing this particular dress tonight.

The strapless black dress clung onto your skin, kissing the dip of your waist and curving at the wave of your ass, your boobs bounced with each step you took as you wondered around the house which was littered with swaying, half-concious bodies.

The dim lights were no assistance in finding your way to the exit, taking a sharp turn, you were met with a sliding glass door, with no ulterior motive, you slid the door open, finding yourself on a large, blustery balcony.

As you turned your head, your eyes met with those familiar, sultry green eyes, the eyes which transported your brain to a whole other location, taking you back in time forcing you to replay those woeing memories you made with the owner of those green eyes.

You found yourself stuck in place, as his green eyes traced down your body, you felt a sudden heat florish in your chest, making your heart drum. Your breath pace increased alongside your heartrate, causing your palms to moisten, you gulped before locking eyes with him, Eren Yeager, your ex-boyfriend.

You watched as his eyebrows raised and he took a step back, your body tensened and you attempted to exit, "Yo." his tempting voice spoke up, you kept your face straight, attempting to quickly manoeuvre yourself out of this situation.

"Hey." you plainly greet, Eren slowly walked up to you, as he did so, you took in his tall, healthy figure. As he approached you, you subconsciously stepped back, back hitting the transparent door behind you. Eren's lips twisted into somewhat of a smirk as he looked down at you.

"I've missed you."

Looking up at him, you just saw his sharp featured face, that face alone made you forget all the things he did to you. "Yeah?" you queried, "Look at you, fucking perfect." he admired, as you both locked eyes, you felt that heat within your body spread to your lower ograns, moistening the thin cloth of the thong you wore.

"You just keep getting hotter eachtime I see you." he disclosed, "How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?" his deep voice questioned, "You kept your hands from me when you were kissing that other girl." you managed to say, forming a weak barrier between you both using your limited amount of current self-respect.

"I've changed." Eren claimed, "Yeah?" you asked with a stern tone, "Yeah, you've changed too." Eren noted as he stared directly at your chest. "You're fucking nasty." you giggle, Eren used his large hands to rub your side, "I need you...so fucking bad." Eren murmured as his eyes looked into yours before he glanced down at your lips.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I'll do anything to make it up to you, baby." his sensuous voice ringed in your ear, "Well thats too bad, cuz' I hate you." you taunted, "Yeah? You hate me?" Eren spoke, his lips barely touching the skin of your neck, "That won't work, cuz' I'm in love with you." he said as he pressed his lips onto your neck.

Drawing his head back, his face was right in front of yours, you looked up at him, biting your bottom lip as you felt his strong arms hold you like he used to, as soon as your eyes dared to dart towards his lips, he took that as a signal to kiss you.

His lips basically fought with yours as you felt the eagerness in him be expressed with the way his soft lips moved on yours. His palms moved to the curve of your ass, grabbing it as he broke the kiss, "God, I missed you so much." he spoke before pressing his lips onto yours once again.

In one swift motion, Eren pulled the curtain in front the glass door, concealing everything transpiring on the balcony, using his muscular arms, he hoisted you onto him, grabbing you just below your ass, not breaking the kiss.

He placed you onto a lounge chair, as he got onto his knees on the ground, settling himself between your spread legs. "I'm gonna make things better, alright baby?" he promised as he parted your legs oncemore.

Pulling off your thong, and rolling your dress slightly higher, he licked his lips before making contact with your wet pussy, your clit was in proximity to his cold metal tongue piercing, upon the sudden perception, you looked down at him, slurping your juices as his bicep muslces stiffened as he held your legs apart.

"Fuckk, you gotta tongue piercing." you moaned, "Mhmm." he hummed into your pussy causing your knees to shake. As Eren's tongue guided down your wet lips your toes curled, his head shook to the side as he devoured your pussy.

Using his fingers, he jabbed at your deprived hole, with one final lick, he used his lips to suck at your bundle of nerves. With that, you came all over his fingers, soaking his entire hand. "Look at this, huh." his voice chimed, you bit your lip, looking down at him with needy eyes as your legs shook.

Using his tongue to wipe his fingers dry, he made you watch as he cleaned your juices off of him. Standing on his feet, he pulled you up, grabbing your face once you were to his level. He kissed you slowly with his wet lips, taking your hand into his, he guided your hand down to his crotch, making you feel how hard he was.

"What are you gonna do about it?" he whispered onto your lips, departing your lips from his, you looked at his lofty, trained figure, you pulled the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head.

You were faced with his tense, chiseled abs, switching your positions, now in front of him your directed him to sit on the chair you were once on. You dropped your core onto the tent in his pants, grinding yourself on him as you placed your hands on his chest, allowing yourself to move with more pressure and speed.

"Fuck." he cursed as he watched you grind onto him, "so fucking pretty." he whispered as his hands found themself on the curve of your ass. Discovering the zipper of his pants, you pulled it down with eagerness, yearning for the feeling of that lengthy, healthy-pink coloured dick that ensured an orgasm each time it was inside you.

As you slightly pulled down his pants and everything underneath it, his rigid cock sprung free, slapping your inner thigh upon liberation. "Fuck, you're so big." you praised as you stroked his shaft, before inserting it into your soaking core.

"Goddam." Eren breathlessly muttered, it was only the tip that was in so far, and your wetness was not much help getting his full length into you. His extensive,girthy cock stretched you out real good, you pressed your eyes shut, enduring the fugitive pain.

"God." you moaned upon feeling the sudden fullness, your knees pressed into the softness of the cushion of the chair you were on as you placed your hands on Eren's shoulders for stability.

"Fuck, bounce on it, princess." Eren urged, you used your knees to push yourself up, pulling yourself off of his length before dropping onto it again, the sudden friction of your walls to his dick sent goosebumps down your spine and produced loud moans.

Eren slouched into the chair, allowing himself to push his dick further up into you, with steady bounces you fucked yourself good on his dick as his shaft became coated with your juices. You arched your back moving your ass up and down as you moved in and out of him.

Eren groaned as beads of sweat dripped down his pecs and onto his carved abs, "Don't stop." Eren grunted, your own pleasure slowed you down from riding him at your full capability. Upon noticing, Eren used his hips to buck up into you, watching your breasts bounce in your dress as he wore out your pussy.

"You still hate me?" he questioned with a laugh as he dug his cock deep into you, "Huh? You still hate me?" he persisted, all you could do was moan as he drilled into you, Eren groaned loudly as he used his hand to squeeze your titties, still pounding up into you relentlessly.

"Oh fuck!" you yelped as the tight knot in your lower stomach became undone, you came for the second time, this time all over his dick. "Yeahh, who else can fuck you like this, huh?" Eren whinged, you inhaled and exhaled loudly as your orgasm faded out.

You hopped off his dick, scurrying to get your panties which were discarded on the floor, as you turned around you heard Eren's zipper and he stood to his feet. Bending over to slip on your thong, you felt him press himself against your ass, "You still hate me?" he iterated.

You felt his hands on your hips, and once your back pressed onto his chest he guided them around your waist, you twisted your head to the side, his jade eyes meeting yours.

Every wrong he ever did to you cancelled out, and you felt the same way he made you feel the day you met.

Tags: @dontcryskxawng @iheartjoaofelix79 @k-ine-e

[woso-dreamzzz]

End of the World II

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Summary: The World Cup tension

The next time you see Ma and Mammy in a room at the same time is at Ireland Camp.

You arrive with Ma, happy and smiling in your own shamrock green Ireland jersey and wave at the social media person who's recording everyone's arrival.

You're the littlest team member and Ma makes sure that you don't run ahead enough that she can't see you anymore. Ever since that day that you cried and got to go to Ma's early, you've been staying with her.

You still don't know what happened between her Mammy but you remember that night the tension between Ma and Caitlin so you suppose it must have to do with that.

It's fun being with Ma and you've really been missing her but you've also be missing Mammy too. It's an odd feeling because you know that if Ma sent you back to Mammy then you would start missing Ma more than Mammy and you're scared that you're always going to be wanting the one that you don't currently have.

But Ireland Camp is different.

It's better.

Now that Ma and Mammy have to be together all the time, maybe they'll remember how much they love each other and then Ma will move back in and you'll no longer have the weird icky feelings in your chest that you can't explain.

Mammy's already there and you pull away from Ma to crash into her. She looks shocked to see you smiling up at her but she squeezes you with just the right amount of pressure that you happily go boneless and let her pick you up.

"Hey, kiddo," She says, raining kisses onto your head to make you laugh.

"Missed you, Mammy!" You tell her, resting your head against her collarbone.

"I missed you too." She holds you for a few moments, just soaking in the weight of you in her arms. "Who are you rooming with this camp, kiddo? Me or Ma?"

The questions makes you frown and you pull away. Ma is standing a long way away from you both, not looking at Mammy at all.

"But...But...Sleep in the same room as Ma and Mammy."

They both wince and Ma says," Not this camp."

"No!" You say," Every camp!"

"Not this camp," Ma says again," Who do you want to room with?"

You don't answer. You don't do much actually. You just kind of go limp in Mammy's arms and hide your head in her neck.

Mammy sighs. "I'll take her, Ruesha. I haven't seen her in person for a little while. I'll look after her."

Ma and Mammy don't talk at all during Ireland camp unless it's about you. They don't even look like they want to be in the dining hall at the same time and you don't understand what's going on.

Ireland camp wasn't meant to be like this. Ma and Mammy were meant to be in the same room all the time and give each other kisses because they're in love and that's the whole reason they had you.

They're in love enough to want a baby together and that baby was you.

You don't know what's meant to happen to you if Ma and Mammy don't love each other anymore.

You try your absolute hardest to get them to hang out but the most they come to interacting outside of training is to hand you off to the other. No words are exchanged other than a polite nod or an explanation on what you've already had to eat.

They stay on completely opposite ends of the plane when you take the flight to Australia and you start crying when Ma glares at Mammy and then you cry even harder when Mammy sneers at Ma (though they both put it down to you being completely exhausted by the late night).

Ireland being at the World Cup is meant to make you feel all bouncy and happy but it's just the most horrible time in your life.

Ma and Mammy link up well on the pitch but off of it...It's like they don't even know each other. They don't talk. They don't do anything together and you miss old Ireland camp where Ma and Mammy were always together and they give you big kisses on both of your cheeks at the same time.

The only time they really, truly interact is an argument.

It's the game against Australia and Mammy wants you to walk out with her. She's the captain.

Ma, however, doesn't want you anywhere near the Australian team and so they argue about it.

Mammy ends up winning the argument because you ask Ma why you're not allowed to be near the Australians and she doesn't answer you besides saying that it's complicated.

So, you end up walking with Mammy and even though the World Cup hasn't been as fun as it should be, you're more than happy to sit on the bench with the rest of the Ireland girls to watch the match.

But, like everything that's happened since Ma and Mammy broke up, it goes downhill.

You're not quite sure what happened but all you know is that Ma is yelling at Caitlin and someone's holding her back from doing you don't know what.

It scares you a little bit and you cover your eyes tight. You didn't like Caitlin in your house but you didn't like Ma yelling at her either. It scares you a lot and you hide your face in your shirt and don't come out until the match is over, even when some of the girls try to coax you out with promises of food and drink.

The match ends with Ireland losing and you crying.

You're crying heavily and when Katie approaches, she knows it's not because she's just lost.

"I-I...Want to go home!" You say through your sobs, little chest heaving," Want to go home!"

"I know," Katie says. There's not much else she can say, not with Caitlin looking on in worry and Ruesha on the other side of the pitch signing shirts. "I know. We'll be home soon."

She wipes your eyes softly and kisses your head.

"I-I go home with you or Ma?"

"Who do you want to go home with?" She asks, drawing you into her arms," If you go home with Ma, you'll probably only see me every few weeks. If you go home with me then you'll have to be around Caitlin a little."

"Mammy?" You ask," Why does Ma hate Caitlin? Did she do something bad?"

"It's complicated."

"Ma says that too. Am I not allowed to know?"

"Well," Mammy says," It's not something that we should talk about until you're a bit older." She brushes hair out of your face.

You turn away from her. "Are you and Ma done forever?" You ask, a fresh wave of tears dripping down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby."

Your bottom lip trembles and you say again," I want to go home."

[minnillea]

OVERNIGHT STAY (Keegan P. Russ X Reader)

Wrote more for Keegan enemies to lovers style bc, yes. (5k words)

CW: MDNI!, explicit content ahead, NSFW, smut, soft dom Keegan (really sweet), sub fem reader, play fighting, love bites, overstimulation, nipple play, pet names, creampie, fingering, edging, unholy amount of teasing, basically really hot and heavy make out session, and aftercare<3

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･｡.

The sky was gloomy, and the wind dragged all types of scrap as you stood in the middle of no man’s land while Keegan and you bickered back and forth like usual.

“You should have let me drive.” He growls at you as he throws you a condescending look.

“Your driving is awful! Every time you take the wheel, I get some sort of near-death experience!” You snap back, returning his energy.

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be stuck here if it wasn’t because of your stupidity.” He says with a cocky smirk visible under his mask before both of you are interrupted.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Elias barks at both of you, clearly done with your antics. “I'm tired of this bullshit between you too!” He finishes inspecting the vehicle before sighing. “I’m sleeping in this thing….or what’s left of it. You two can go check that decrepit cabin over there; I don’t care where you dumbasses sleep. I don’t want to hear anything from you two!”Elias leers at both of you with irritation before speaking with an intimidating snarl. “You two better start getting along, or I’ll make your lives hell! Now get out of my sight; they’ll pick us up by the morning.” Elias walks away, leaving both of you in complete silence.

Keegan glares at you before he takes in a sharp breath and walks the other way.

You look around at the barren wasteland for a moment before you scoff and trail behind him into the little structure. He pushes the door, and the rusted hinges give away immediately.

“This is all your fault; I hope you are aware of that.” Keegan groans as you step into the cabin and set a little lamp on a nightstand.

You huff before speaking in a mocking tone. “Don’t blame me just because you have no self-control.”

“And you take things way too far,” Keegan snaps back. “You always think you’re right."

You noticed the passage of time reflected in the small house, and it makes you wonder where the past inhabitants could be or if they survived.

“I’m not full of myself, unlike you.” You say raising a brow.

"Oh yeah, and you're an angel?" Keegan says sarcastically. “All that flirting with the commander and Hesh, like you're all that.”

“That’s not flirting- ” You scoff offended, he’s clearly trying to get under your skin.

“Whatever you say, princess.” Keegan crosses his arms over his chest and scowls at you. “There's only one bed, and I’m definitely sleeping on it, so you better keep your distance.”

You look at him with disdain as you shake the sheets and prep the bed.

Keegan goes to the foot of the bed and takes his backpack off, throwing it onto a chair in the corner. He then plops down on the bed and puts his hands behind his head.

You sigh before you go to change into something you can sleep in. Since no one is supposed to be around here, you figured you'd get comfortable. “Unbelievable, this is so dumb. Elias could have let one of us sleep in the vehicle, and that way no one suffers more than necessary.” You mumble under your breath.

"Yeah, I agree with you for once. It's awful. He probably wants to make us miserable and get back at us…or he really thinks he can force us to get along." Keegan rolls onto his side, facing away from you but keeping a guarded eye. He takes off his gear and shirt and throws them on the chair too. “You know, if you would stop running your mouth for five seconds, we wouldn't hate each other so much.”

Keegan was the type of person to only speak when necessary, but for some reason he was always eager to piss you off.

“For someone so quiet, you really can’t help yourself around me, huh? I’m just defending myself from your little attacks.” You spat back as you finished putting on some shorts and a comfy top.

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me, sweetheart.” He says in a mocking manner before chuckling with arrogance.

You roll your eyes with a sigh in response as you set your bag down before turning around. “………. don’t tell me you sleep shirtless.”

“Why? You don't like it?” Keegan chuckles lightly, then turns his upper body to face you. “You're one to talk; you aren’t wearing anything underneath that. I can tell.” Keegan lifts an eyebrow at you, smirking a little under the mask.

You cover yourself with your hands, embarrassed, as you look away to avoid meeting his icy eyes. “That’s because sleeping with a bra is uncomfortable!”

“And what about bras during the day time?” He teases. Keegan rolls over to face the other way. A small smirk plays at the corners of his mouth; he’s waiting for a reaction.

Your face contorts. “You little—I sometimes forget to put it back on, okay! Why are you even looking there in the first place?!”

Keegan laughs loudly and rolls over to look at you again. “Come on, you do it on purpose.” He sits up in bed and leans over so he’s eye-level with you. His eyebrow raises suggestively as he looks you up and down.

You throw the shirt you were wearing a second ago at his face to block his view. “I don’t jackass.” You say with irritation and embarrassment present in your tone.

“I bet you don't, princess.” Keegan chuckles once more. He lets the shirt hit his face with a stoic look before he rolls his eyes and pushes it away. Keegan stretches out across the bed, spreading out his arms and legs for a second before removing his mask. “Are you ready to sleep, or are you going to nag me all night long?”

“I’d like to torture you all night, but I need sleep too.” You say unamused as you hop on your side of the bed and turn off the lamp.

Keegan looks at you with a smirk. He watches you climb into bed for a moment before he finally turns back to face the other way and lays down.

"Good, I hope you have nightmares," he says as he closes his eyes and rolls over onto his stomach. Keegan doesn't speak or move again, but his breathing is somewhat shallow and rapid.

“How sweet of you~ ” You mock, rolling your eyes and hugging onto a pillow.

Keegan remains silent for several minutes until he finally groans and turns onto his back. He stretches like a cat, groaning all the while, and then he places a hand on the side of his head.

Keegan lifts his head and sits up to look at you, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares down at you with those piercing blue eyes of his.

You open an eye and try to ignore how good he looks right now, the moonlight coming through the window letting you see him perfectly. “What? You wanna fight?” You say in a mocking tone.

Keegan grins at you before kicking off the blankets and launching himself onto you. “Yeah, I do wanna fight, and I'll win, too.” The muscles on his arms and chest flex as he leans forward and tackles you to the bed to pin you down.

“Hey! Hmph!” You yelp in surprise as you try to fight back. Funnily enough, it’s not the first time you guys engage in play fighting out of spite, but this time he really caught you off guard.

“Give up” Keegan says, his voice low and teasing. He holds you below him, trapping you between his body and the bed. It's impossible to move. Keegan uses his hands to hold your arms down at your sides. He smirks and leans down closer to your face. “C'mon, surrender.”

You scoff before sticking out your tongue in defiance.

Keegan laughs and leans closer so that your faces are only a couple inches apart. He stares into your eyes deeply. “That's not going to help you; you are so childish.” He looks at you with a smirk. His eyes searching into yours. “What's the matter...can't handle me?” He mocks you as you struggle; you can feel his breath on your face.

Your cheeks grow hot as you glare at him. “You are a jerk!”

Keegan smiles and moves his face close enough so that your noses are almost touching. “I'm the jerk, huh?” He speaks with his husky voice as he stares you down. He holds that position for just a moment before he leans in and presses his lips against yours. He pulls you into a tight, passionate kiss.

Your eyes widen as you yelp softly.

Keegan continues to kiss you deeply, running his hands over your body. The feeling of your skin is intoxicating.

You feel yourself melting into him. His touch is unlike anything you've ever felt before.

Keegan breaks the kiss for a while but doesn't move away. Your mouth and his collide for a moment longer before he pulls away. His chest heaves with each breath.

You're both breathless.

You look up at him with doe eyes and slightly parted lips, speechless.

Keegan looks down at you with a mischievous smile. He runs a hand through his luscious hair before he speaks in a sultry tone. “You know, you're not as feisty as I thought. One kiss, and you turned into mush.”

You glower at him in response as you speak between your teeth. “You play so dirty.”

Keegan grins. “You can't tell me you don't like it," he says in a low whisper. "I can feel you trembling in excitement."

You look up at him coyly before looking away by turning your head to the side, embarrassed, and shutting your eyes in the process.

Keegan leans over and takes your chin, forcing you to look at him again. Those beautiful hunter eyes of his bore into yours. “Come on, look at me.”

He leans in towards your face again, and you see his eyes slowly close. Then your mouths come together again in another hot, heavy kiss. Keegan's hand reaches into the back of your hair as you moan softly. He grips at it and pulls you closer to his lips without inflicting any pain. Your tongues play together as Keegan takes control of the kiss and explores all over your mouth. He keeps his hold on you as he slowly pushes his knee more in between your tangled legs. He deepens the kiss even further, holding you close as his breath becomes raspy and he groans softly.

The sensation is overwhelming.

You place one of your hands on his shoulder as the other slithers its way up to be pressed up against his chest. You let little noises out, getting lost in it all as you no longer even remember why you were both arguing.

Keegan keeps kissing you for several more minutes before finally pulling back again. He looks at you, breathing somewhat heavily, before he speaks with a growl. “God, I want you. I can't wait another second." Keegan doesn't wait for a reply. He pulls you closer and rolls you over, so you get on all fours before he hovers on top of you.

You turn your head to look at him with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes.

Keegan lowers himself down onto you and pushes his body against yours, making your back arch and your chest get squished against the bed. He pins your arms down on the bed. Keegan can feel every inch of your soft body. He kisses down your neck and slowly starts working his way down as he holds your body tightly against his.

You groan slightly in response as he bites your neck abruptly. “D-dammit Keegan…”

Keegan kisses your bare shoulders and down the curve of your spine, making you shriver. He takes his time. Keegan grins at your protest, but he doesn't stop. He holds you tight against him as he slowly pulls your shirt upward, leaving your back exposed. He runs his hand lightly across your chest, making you moan softly. Keegan stops moving and keeps himself pressed against you. You can hear every breath he takes; his lips hover closely over your skin as he can feel you grow impatient. He then rests his head on your shoulder to speak softly beside your ear. “Just wait,” he whispers. “It's going to be worth it.” Keegan's hand moves down your body, and he grabs the waistband of your shorts. He starts to slowly pull them down your thighs, leaving them bunched around your knees and exposing your soft flesh. Keegan kisses up your bare back again as he playfully fondles your soft butt. He then proceeds to bite at the skin on your shoulder and then licks the spot with his tongue. You can feel him breathing against you as he continues kissing and biting your skin.

You turn your head again to get a better look at him.

Keegan leans down, and his mouth meets yours again, kissing you deeply.

You moan softly as you press your butt against him playfully, asking for more.

Keegan moves on top of you completely, his weight pressing down on your back. You can feel his excitement pressing against you.

He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him. His mouth moves back to your ear again, and he makes a soft sound. “Tell me what is it. What do you want? Tell me what you really want.” Keegan's voice is barely more than a whisper. His breath tickles your skin as you lie under him on the bed.

“I want you…” You say with a hint of desperation as you keep moving your hips to rub against him.

Keegan's breath catches in the back of his throat at your actions. His eyes dilate slightly before he presses his hips harder against you. He groans softly and kisses your neck again as he moves his hand to grab onto your breast. He starts to grind against you too, his hips pressing into yours.

You can feel a pool of arousal leaking from between your thighs as you can’t wait anymore.

Keegan sits back up on the bed, pulling his belt off, accompanied by a rustling sound, before throwing it away from him. His eyes flicker over your body, and his breathing quickens when he sees how wet you are. “Oh, would you look at that?” He says with amusement dripping off his sly tone. I could eat you up right now. He grins at you, his voice husky and full of desire. Keegan sees you trying to peek, so he flips you around so your back is against the bed before he throws your clothes to the side. He climbs between your legs. Your bare back is against the soft sheets. He leans down over you, his hands on either side of your body, with your legs spread open. His piercing gaze over your beautiful figure before meeting your eyes again.

The intensity of this moment unmistakably hangs in the air.

You bring your hands up to cover your chest shyly before biting into the nail of your thumb as your eyes trail down his body with curiosity. You also take the moment to carefully look at the tattoos on him.

Keegan glances at you, noticing the way you're looking at him. He smirks and runs his hand up your knee to your upper thigh. His fingers lightly glide across your bare skin. Keegan moves his hand towards your inner thigh as his eyes drop down to your soaking cunt. He slides his thumb as he presses onto your sensitive bud, agonizing slowly before he introduces two fingers together and gradually opens them teasingly as he takes a look at the dripping slick.

Your breath hitches as a result of his actions.

Keegan leans closer to you again, his body hovering over yours as he whispers lowly. "God, you're driving me insane.” He presses his lips onto yours hungrily.

You can feel the subtle way he toys with your sensitive clit as his other hand grabs onto your waist.

Keegan is breathing slowly and deeply. His hot breath brushes against your skin.

You can feel his fingertips making their way into you again with a squelch.

Keegan takes his sweet time touching you. You feel the warm and tight sensation of his fingers teasing your sweet spot. After a while, you are so close. It seems as if he is holding his breath and carefully studying you.

You yelp and tense up a little as you look at him with pleading eyes.

Then, suddenly, Keegan stops.

You whine out, frustrated at the loss of movement.

Keegan lifts himself up slightly and moves his fingers away from you and into his mouth, tasting your arousal with a breathy growl. He looks down at you and chuckles quietly before smiling. “So impatient. I guess I’m going to have to teach you how to wait…. I think you're more than ready.” He looks down at you. There's something in his eyes that you don't think you've ever seen before.

“It’s very late.” You mumble in your defense before being forced to shut up by him slowly pushing his aching cock into you.

He angles himself perfectly before his tongue slides into your mouth. Keegan presses into you until you're fully pinned with a hand holding your wrists over your head.

(“This asshole! I had a point.”) You think before your thoughts slowly fade away as you squirm and moan loudly into him.

Keegan keeps slowly moving into you; his movements slow and steady. It's almost as if he is savoring every single moment of this. As his tongue caresses yours, you feel his chest heaving, and your bodies are squished against each other. His hand is resting on your hip as the other goes to hold your chin up.

You close your eyes and give into the moment, allowing him to take over your body.

Keegan bottoms out and starts a steady but slow pace. His lips are still pressed against you as his tongue explores your mouth.

Keegan's other hand moves up your body, lightly caressing your skin in the way.

You have your eyes closed shut, and move your hands up to hold onto his shoulders with a muffled moan, digging your nails into them.

Keegan groans when you dig into his flesh as he kneads one of your breasts with a hand before rolling your sensitive perky nipple in between his fingers.

You can only sense him in this moment, his breath against your skin, the vibration of his groans, his touch. It's as if you're both drowning in your own intense need for one another.

He speeds up slightly, bringing his rhythm to the perfect pace. Your back arches beneath him, almost instinctively as you moan. Keegan kisses down your neck and moves his mouth down to your chest to suck on your other hard nipple. You can feel his hot breath as he continues kissing you, and his hand begins to make its way down your body.

You are quickly reduced to a moaning mess, and you tremble as your eyes start to tear up. Keegan chuckles when he hears the way in which you moan and then kisses your collarbone. His fingers meet your clit, and he quickly pinches it softly.

Keegan keeps kissing you deeply and relentlessly, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and his thumb rubs circles on your clit slowly.

You start to get very loud, which causes him to find a way to shush you just in case.

Keegan's other hand goes to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck and gently applying pressure. There's a certain intensity to it, but he's still tender with each touch. The way you are moaning and writhing below him is like a drug. Every sound you make sends a wave of pleasure throughout his body.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and it’s making him go crazy. Keegan's mouth leaves yours, and he starts to kiss down your chest. His tongue works every inch of the skin there. His hand releases the hold it has on your throat. He kisses from the center of your chest all the way down to your stomach. Keegan's breath is heavy, and he sounds almost as if he is in a daze. His fingers press into the skin of your hip, leaving marks, even though he is trying his best to be gentle.

The tears pool in your eyes as you look directly into his, too lost in pleasure.

Keegan looks down at you. Your hair is disheveled, and your lips are slightly red as he continues moving his hands all over your body. Every touch and every stroke of his fingers makes you shiver.

The look in Keegan's eyes is almost obsessive. He's drinking in every part of you.

“F-fuck.” You say overwhelmed by how full you feel, accompanied by a series of whimpers.

Keegan doesn't stop moving. His gaze is focused on your body as your tits bounce up and down.

You feel his warm breath on your skin as he bites your ear. He then leans down and kisses you deeply. You whine as your eyes roll back before they are shut tightly. You dig your nails into him hard enough to draw blood.

Keegan brings his hand up to hold you by your wrists again. Your arms rest on the bed, on top of your head, and your legs are still wrapped around him, squeezing him harder. He bites your shoulder softly in a playful way to get back at you, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers keep moving over your weak spots.

You pant heavily as you moan, completely dumbed down by this point.

Keegan presses his lips against your shoulder, where he bit you. Your body is still tightly pinned beneath him. Your skin under his touch is hot and sensitive by now. He moves one hand to your lips and lightly brushes them with his thumb. He notices your lips are trembling, and you can't get enough of his touch. Keegan looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. You feel as if you could lose yourself in those eyes right now.

You take his finger in between your lips and lewdly suck on it as he moves against your body. You can hear a low rumble in his throat as his breath quickens.

Keegan slowly starts to pick up the pace. His hand rests on your hip as the other softly tucks one of your nipples. His mouth meets yours again, his kiss growing more aggressive and he pushes more against you. His lips never leaving yours.

You squirm and moan loudly, feeling like you’ll lose your mind.

Keegan's kisses become more urgent and desperate.

You feel as if you're being drowned by stimulation.

Every touch, every kiss, and every breath coming from him is being picked up by you.

You can't think of anything else but him. You whine helplessly as you raise one of your hands and find a way to his, grabbing onto it tightly and interlocking your fingers with his. [I’m sorry this is so lewd] He growls and squeezes your hand in return. His mouth leaves yours, and he presses his lips against your neck before you feel his teeth just barely touching your skin.

You feel overwhelmed, as your senses are totally flooded.

Keegan's other hand still has a hold of your hip, his fingers pressing against it tightly.

You yelp and squeeze around him tighter, feeling like you are about to snap. “Hah! K-Keegan! I’m- “

Keegan chuckles as he presses his teeth harder onto your neck, holding you by your hip against him as he thrusts into you.

You can’t help it, and you quickly come undone with a whine, dragging him over the edge as well.

Keegan’s body jerks forward slightly as he lets out a breathy grunt and hot strings of cum spurt inside of you. “Goddammit”

You shake violently and wail out as he finishes riding his high with a couple of thrusts while your face contorts in pleasure.

His hand is still intertwined with yours tightly. Keegan exhales sharply as his body relaxes; his breathing is heavy and agitated. He gives you a quick peck on the forehead before slowly moving to sit up. He takes a really good look at your beautiful, fucked out form for a second before he gently wipes some of your tears away with his hand. His eyes seem so different and tender now. “You were so loud.” He mocks you with a smirk.

You pant heavily with a pouty face as you tremble slightly. “What? You t-think Elias could have heard?” You say breathlessly, almost giggling.

Keegan chuckles, his eyes calm, as he makes sure you are okay. He playfully rubs his thumb on your waist and moves his lips to meet yours yet again in a sweet, tender kiss before pulling back. “Good question. Hmmm~ I guess we'll find out when the sun is up. But for now, I think we should sleep. We're going on a mission soon, so we need our rest.” Keegan leans back again. He's using one arm to hold himself up, and the other arm is wrapping around your waist, his fingers slowly rubbing across your skin before he pulls out to scoop you up and roll onto his back.

You catch your breath as you melt into his arms comfortably before speaking softly in a playful tone. “I don’t think this is what Elias had in mind when he told us to get along.”

Keegan grins as you can feel his comforting heartbeat from there. “But in the end, I'd say we got along just fine. A little too much, maybe." He chuckles lowly.

He's patting your head tenderly and soothing you to sleep. Keegan is still pressed close to you, his chest rising and falling with every breath. His eyes slowly roam around the room for a moment, scanning it, before settling back down on your already sleeping form.

Eventually, he closes his eyes as well, and his body relaxes with his arms wrapped around you in a warm hug.

It’s really early in the morning, and he wakes up first. You were now facing down, nuzzling his chest.

Keegan opens his eyes and looks down at you, his lips curled up in a smirk. He caresses your hair with his hand before speaking with that husky voice of his. “Hey, sleepyhead.” Keegan rubs his thumb on your cheek gently to wake you up as he speaks to you softly. “You need to wake up soon. We gotta leave this place, remember?”

Your eyes slowly flutter open, and you look up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Morning, darlin’. " He keeps rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Get up before Elias comes in here and sees you like this.” He mocks.

You groan softly, wanting to sleep a little more, but you end up slowly sitting up with your hair looking puffy as you try to keep your eyes open.

Keegan chuckles and gently taps your chin with his finger to keep you awake. He looks over at you as you sit up. Keegan is still lying down and still has his arm around you.

“We don't have much time. We should head out now before Elias comes in here and chews us out.”Keegan's eyes look over your body, and he sees the love marks over your bare shoulders and neck as you are partially wrapped by the sheets. “And also, you might want to put some clothes on.” He raised a brow.

You quickly grow embarrassed as you realize you are naked and try to cover yourself better.

Keegan hands you your bag with clothes and chuckles in a playful tone. “Don't worry, I've seen it all.” He then turns to get himself geared up and give you space.

You pout at him before sliding into your uniform and fixing your hair. After you hop out of bed to be met by your wobbly legs.

He's putting on his belt when you get up, and he shakes his head playfully once he sees you wobbling. “What’s all that about?” He raises a brow again.

“Nothing….” You say putting on your shoes shyly.

“Don't you give me that. You almost fell over a second ago.” He laughs and finishes putting on his gear.

“I just tripped over something.” You blatantly lie before tying your boots.

“Oh really? What did you trip over?” Keegan is just teasing you a bit as he finishes putting on his helmet and fixing his mask. He stands up in front of you, searching for his shoes.

“…..your shoe” You lie again as you stand up and try to stretch to ease the aching you are feeling.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Are you all good to walk?” He asks as he grabs your shoulder briefly.

“Of course, I just tripped on a shoe.” You say defensively as you stand up straight.

“A shoe, right…” Keegan raises a brow in curiosity, and his eyes glance downward. His gaze quickly darts back up to your face.

“You forgot your bra.” He smirks slightly under the mask.

You had forgotten to put your bra on since you were feeling so sleepy.

You turn away, embarrassed, before removing your shirt and putting the bra around you as you try to clasp it from behind. You were out of it. “Ugh, of course I did.” You mumble under your breath.

He laughs softly and moves behind you. “Let me help. There, much better.” He pats your shoulder playfully. “Now let's go before Elias thinks we murdered each other during the night.”

You nod, put your shirt back on, and grab your things before giving him a warm smile and stepping out into the wasteland.

Keegan is a few steps behind you as he puts his rifle in place, but he keeps looking over at you repeatedly to make sure that you aren't tripping for any reason.

You see Elias sitting by the broken vehicle as he barks orders into his mic.

Shortly after he is done, he looks up at both of you walking towards him. “Oh, great, you guys didn’t behead each other last night; this is progress; I was about to drag your asses in here.”

Keegan chuckles and throws you a playful side glance. “It was a close one, though,” he says with a smirk visible under his mask. Elias rolls his eyes before your ride arrives.

[starswguru]

❝ castaways ; 명재현

𖥻 pairing: loser!myung jaehyung x female reader

𖥻 contains: rockstar!au, childhood best friends to lovers

𖥻 warnings: inspired by 5sos "try hard" + "heartbreak girl" / english is not my first language so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings, and i also forgot to proofread so i'm sorry in advance everyone

word count — 2.4k

synopsis — you and jaehyun had been friends ever since you could remember, supporting and caring for each other. but little did you know that the boy you saw as the personification of a soulmate found in a friendship, saw you as the most perfect muse for all the songs he had ever written. you didn't know it yet, but jaehyun was doing his absolute best to make you see his true feelings.

🎀

IT was no secret that looking back to your whole life, you’d lived more years being friends with jaehyun than not. it was natural — for the both of you — to share memories, habits, tastes, experiences, or whatever it was with the other; more natural even than doing so with your families. myung had always been there for you and you had always been there for him. always.

however, for a little over two years now, the two of you have not been able to see each other as often as you used to in the past. between you getting into university and him chasing his dream in the music industry, the necessary sacrifices took more from your individual lives than your teenage fantasies could’ve ever predicted when you were in high school.

the weather that afternoon was warmer than the usual autumn days and you couldn’t help but smile thinking that perhaps even nature knew that two halves of the same soul were about to meet again for the first time in eight months or so and was happy that this encounter was going to take place. there was a light breeze running through the city, refreshing the anticipation inside of you and making your hair dance with movements worthy of the highest class of ballet as you opened the heavy dark-wood door before you.

your eyes wandered around the ambience, looking for those large round dark of his you could recognize anywhere, no matter how much time had passed. “sometimes i swear i can see stars reflecting on your eyes, hyun”, you said one time when you were younger right after your first ever heartbreak and your best friend came to your rescue on the parking lot where your former boyfriend left you; jaehyun picked up the tiny broken pieces of your crushed heart only to somehow find a way to glue them back together until you found the strength to heal by yourself, and the musician never asked for anything in return, because that was who he was in the end. it didn’t take long before you smiled from ear to ear at the sight of him.

“hi, jae!” the excitement in your voice was noticeable to anyone close to the table at the almost empty café you were supposed to meet. “you look different. what did you do?”

the boy, at least you thought it was still the same boy you’ve known since childhood, let out a faint laugh as he hugged you tightly against his body, a good amount of centimetres taller than yours. just like he always used to do, jaehyun cupped your face with his right hand — the soft hand, the only one that should touch you, in his mind — and caressed it before messing up your hair while laughing a little more. “you noticed, didn’t ya?”

before you could answer anything properly, your attention was immediately drawn not only to the edge of the brunette’s lips but also to his left ear, and a confused frown took over your face. “is that a lip ring? and you got an industrial! jaehyun, you cut your hair!”

“but do you like it?” he asked raising his eyebrows in a split second before focusing on the menu. the music lover didn’t have the courage to say the real reasons as to why he did all that, at least not at that moment, but the biggest parts of his heart were praying that you enjoyed the modifications to his appearance like his heart was telling him you would, simply because his heart knew you better than his conscious mind did.

“i mean, yeah i do… it makes you look even more of a rockstar now, hyun, you don’t look like the good mama’s boy you always looked like.” with a chuckle, you decided to copy his moves, and turn your gaze back to the menu, even though you already knew what you’d order anyways.

jaehyun opened a smirk but that kind of good humor didn’t reach his dark eyes. he was twenty years old, over fifteen years had passed since the first day he ever saw you before him and the agony of suppressing the deep and unique feelings the musician had towards his best friend had been eating him alive for the majority of those fifteen years; living twenty-four months without having you as close to him as before was the trigger to make the myung open his eyes to the reality he tried to ignore so badly. all he ever wanted was for you to actually pay attention to the lyrics he wrote, to understand that everything you needed to have your heart in a safe and respectful place was to give it to him; ever since he was fourteen years old, jaehyun’s birthday wish when blowing the candles was always the same: for you to love him the same way he loved you. despite the depth and complexity of his feelings, the singer decided to keep it cool for a little longer; the last thing he wanted at that moment was to unconsciously push you away by bombarding you with all the words bottled up inside his heart since the very first day.

“so how’s school?” he asked once the waiter left you two alone after taking your orders. genuine concern and interest filled every word that came out of your best friend’s mouth, as there was no scenario in this world where jaehyun wouldn’t be worried about you.

you shrugged, looking away. “could be better, to be honest. the classes this last semester were three times harder than the previous one… it caught me off-guard.”

the kind-eyed man offered comfort with his speech, which warmed your heart a little bit more: no matter how much time passed or how much jaehyun changed his appearance, he was still the clumsy kid you met at kindergarten and defended from the other mean boys. in an attempt to take your mind off the stress that tool such a heavy tool on you, he playfully asked if at least there was anyone interesting in that fancy university you got yourself into — even though there was also shy and scared anticipation of his part towards your answer, as the thought of you, his muse, his best friend, his soulmate, being in love with someone who didn’t know you nearly as well as he did or that was willing to go the extra mile for you like he was, made his heart sink. even more so when you nodded.

“i mean, yeah… but it’s not going well. at least not like it used to. i haven’t talked to him in over a week or so, since we had this major argument and i needed to catch a break from that behaviour.”

myung watched uneasily when you played with your fingers, trying to escape his gaze. “why didn’t you tell me that, dove?”

“i didn’t want to trouble you with my petty problems, jaehyun. you need to focus on the band and making it out of here.”

when finally your eyes met his dark ones, the musician felt his blood freeze for a second. there was something different in the way you were looking at him, something he wasn’t used to suddenly was making those marvellous eyes of yours look a thousand times more special than normal. myung jaehyun couldn’t tell right there and then — because he was petrified by his own tornado of thoughts and feelings — but your cheeks were burning with a pink shade of embarrassment, only it was because you didn’t really know what to say or do as this was the first time you met your best friend after admitting to yourself that those feelings of care and affection towards him were due to something a lot stronger than just friendship.

“c’mon, y/n… you could never trouble me, dove.” jaehyun chuckled and took your hands between his with such gentleness that your heart began to race faster than any race car. “i’m here for you, okay?”

the following couple of hours went flying by like those leaves in the wind outside the café. your mind was blank and your thoughts, numb, as you tried as hard as you could to not let it show just how confused you were with everything taking over your judgement towards that friendship. you were scared to ruin it and you were terrified of the idea of not having jaehyun around anymore because of something dumb or did or said; but at the same time, much like him although you didn’t know it, your heart ached just from imagining what it would be like if you jumped off that cliff and confessed your feelings.

before you even realised it, the both of you were outside. the hot coffee from before didn’t really do much to keep you from feeling a shiver down your spine as a stronger breeze hit you colder than the ones from before; instead, jaehyun’s embrace felt like a personal fireplace. you couldn’t help but smile with that comparison, but even more so when he asked if would like to see what the studio looked like — with such invitation, the myung hoped it would create a nice setting for him to show you the newest song he wrote. if destiny decided that was the last melody jaehyun were to play to you, then he would do so with an undying smile.

the place was a little dark: deeper shades of brown and grey all around the walls and furniture but the acoustic panels were black and the only form of lighting came either from the computer screens and mixing consoles or from the few led lights on the ceiling above you. it smelled like cigarettes and scented candles in there, but you were too mesmerized by the fact of being in a recording studio for the first time in your life to pay attention to such details. as for jaehyun, he thought the studio was too small, too simple for you to be this enchanted by it, but your excitement brought joy to his heart and it felt like this was heaven for him; you with him in the one place he worked so hard to make his dream come true was what life should be like. this felt natural, and he only prayed that after that night, it would truly be like that forever.

“do you like it, dove?” the brunette asked, biting his lower lip while playing with his ear piercings.

“it’s so cool, hyun! look at all this stuff! what does this button do?” with sparkling eyes, you sat by the mixing consoles and bombarded your friend with a thousand questions per second. laughing, he only shrugged and rested his weight on the headrest above you.

“i don’t really know. taesan knows more about this than i do, i just stick with the guitar.” liar. jaehyun loved to produce as well, but he didn’t want to sound cocky to you so he decided to hold his tongue.

before the boy could say anything to keep you from pressing any buttons you didn’t know what they were for, your finger gently hit one of those and it triggered a recording from the night before. jaehyun had forgotten about it, but before leaving the studio, he didn’t delete the recording of him playing the acoustic guitar and singing the first song he had ever written about you; as the words came out on the speakers, the shame and fear paralyzed him so badly the guitarist couldn’t even stop it from playing anymore. his eyes were closed shut and he didn’t see how a smile took over your lips, that grew with every note because your mind was interpreting the lyrics and you understood what the song was about.

butterflies started a rampage on your stomach and your hands covered your face out of shyness, but the reality was that you felt like the teen version of yourself all over again in a matter of minutes.

“it’s beautiful, jae” you whispered by the time the song ended and you tried as hard as you could not to cry. “tell me about it”

those big, brown eyes you knew like the palm of your hand now stared at you with a feeling you had never seen before. you could feel every breath that escaped your lungs, every beat of your heart pounding against your chest, and every droplet of sweat that ran down your temples like a mustang crossing the grasslands. the entire universe had stopped for that brief moment to watch what would become of these two best friends who were exhausted of hiding their true feelings for one another; with jaehyun’s eyes tracing every little inch of your angel-like face, the repeating recording in the background was nothing compared to the symphony of two unaware hearts colliding into each other. how could you know he felt this way? how come jaehyun never did anything to show you the love prints engraved inside his heart god knew how long? worse than that: why didn’t you see your own feelings before?

“i can’t… i’ve waited too long to say this and now i can’t. i can’t say it with you looking at me like that, dove.” he whispered back and with a trembling hand, touched your face with just his thumb, scared that the roughness on the skin of his hand could scar a perfect face like yours. tears were forming in his eyes as the frustration of being incapable of confessing everything to the love of his life consumed jaehyun on the inside.

“then i’ll say it first: i love you, myung jaehyun.”

caressing his puffy red cheeks, the loving words slipped out of your mouth with such ease it scared you for a quick moment but as you repeated them back to him like a mantra, bringing his face closer to yours every time you did, the weight that had been destroying your shoulders and crushing your heart for the past year was finally gone and all you could think of was how gentle of a soul the boy you fell in love with had.

“i’ve loved you since the very first day, dove… i’ve waited fifteen years to be honoured with the privilege of being the one holding your heart. i swear i won’t ever drop it. your heart is safe with me, your love is safe with me.”

[boxturret]

One Tenth Scale Mata Nui

Mata Nui is a cool place, but did you ever feel that it was a bit...big for what it was?

The official maps put the island at 357 kio long, which if you take to be a stand in for kilometres¹, would make the island 357 kilometres long.

This lines up roughly with what we can see in the concept art: they say that Mata Nui is around the size of Denmark, the real measurement being 368km, and it matches with what we see in the Mata Nui Rising cgi video.

So that's all well and good, Mata Nui is 357km long, the GSR itself is 3300km tall, all hunky-dory, as long as you ignore some guy named Greggory yelling about how the robot is actually much bigger, but its fine to ignore him.

But now, actually consider what this means. Denmark is by no means a small country, it has a population of 6 million and would take hours to drive across by car on modern roads. Now that isn't an issue really, but in most media depicting the island its shown to be a place that can be traversed by foot or on animal back in a reasonable time frame.

But now let us look at this earlier map:

Initially the most interesting thing to me on this map was the 3rd measurement: the height of the Mangai volcano²

Now on the one hand, this was cool, now I know how tall to make the volcano, on the other hand... 23km seems pretty big.

It is. 23km is higher than Olympus Mons, the largest known volcano in the solar system, standing at only 21.9km. So that's pretty big. This made me start thinking about how far various things are apart and how long it would actually take and using some very VERY generous numbers I started plotting out how long it would take to actually get from place to place.

It wasn't very pretty. In the Mata Nui Online Game it would have taken Takua roughly 5 hours to walk from the beach to Ta-Koro, and another 18 to get to Onu-Koro using the highway. Now this would be fine in an epic like Lord of the Rings, but in Bionicle Mata Nui is consistently treated as a place people can pretty quickly get around on.

The Toa are running all over the place and bumping in to each other. Kopaka getting in to the Caldera at the top of the Mangai volcano isn't the equivalent of climbing 3 Mt Everests in a row, its just something he does [correction: It wasn't the caldera, but a lava pool half way up the mountain, so just 1.5 Mt Everests]. Takua travels all over the island in a pretty small amount of time, unless we're supposed to insert day long journeys in between every screen transition.

But then I noticed something. Something very interesting.

Now lets look at the two keys for the sizes on the released and the early map:

Seems pretty consistent, the sizes of the island are the same, a Toa is 1.6 bio on both (incidentally a real Toa figure is approximately 16cm tall), everything seems to match.

But then I counted the zeroes.

The old map has a kio being not 1000 bio, but 100!

You can even see it on the other version of the map.

Now this is incredibly interesting! This shrinks Mata Nui to 1/10th of its commonly accepted size! It goes from being the size of Denmark to being the size of the Isle of Man.

Which....really works a lot better! This turns Takua's trip from the beach from a 5 hour hike to a short half hour walk. This turns the cable car to Mt Ihu from a massive 70km mega structure to something that's dwarfed by real world constructions.

I don't think this is a mistake either, looking at the details of the map.

You have much finer details, such as these ice shelves collapsing in to small icebergs, whereas on the full sized map some of the larger chunks of ice are kilometres across.

One of the major things it includes are the mesas that can bee seen in many of the promotional renders set in Le-Wahi which are nowhere to be seen on the final map. At this 1/10 scale the plateaus seen would match up well with the massive mesas seen in monument valley in terms of size, but with the final size they would be absolutely massive (10 times as big if you can believe it!)

So suffice to say, I don't think this is just a case of a zero being dropped, it really seems to line up with the level of detail on this earlier map.

But what does this do to the GSR? I hear you cry, well it varies. Going by the earlier numbers it would simply be 1/10th the size, so 330km tall instead of 3300km, so still very large, but depending on the size relationship between the robot and the island it could be as "small" as 180km

The island in this picture is roughly the same size as normal, just covers more of the GSR. The final GSR's head is so proportionately tiny compared to its body that the Mata Nui island had to be very small to cover it. But in any case, a robot "only" 180km tall standing up is still going to tower over anything, its many times higher than airplanes fly, its taller than most clouds, really it would be quite consistent with this render:

So, in conclusion, an earlier concept of the island of Mata Nui has it being 1/10 of the size of the final, and that size seems to work better with what we see in various media from the time, and works better with the story.

Personally this is what I'll be going with in terms of the scale of the island going forward, as it really fits with my vision of the setting and works well with all the story and media from that time.

¹-I don't care about someone saying a bio is 4.375966487787¾ feet, feet aren't real and neither are you. ²-Mt Ihu is NOT the highest point on the island, the GSR isn't Pinocchio with a big pointy nose, this has never been reflected in any visual media.

thank you for reading/have a nice day

Update: I have made a companion post with many renders of George visiting places on the island to hopefully better illustrate the scale.