#he wants to be remembered for what he Was (a genuine artist who loved his craft)

[theflyingfeeling]

Robin was interviewed in the morning television earlier today and oh god I want to hug him 🥺

and not only because his (porko-like) leopard print jacket looked so cosy and soft

[idolpyre]

headcanon &. destiny

⠀ ⠀★  send  headcanon  +  a  word  and  i’ll  write  a  blurb  about  it  !!

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀whenever i think of minjun, i immediately think of the quote :

" this was always going to happen. she's been dead since the beginning. "

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀just because i think his destiny has been sealed ever since the day his father died. minjun was destined to follow him into the grave. maybe he stood a chance, his career was already dying enough, so maybe he didn't have to go with it but — his fate was definitely set in stone as soon as jiwoon had joined no spin. this is how he'd die. and there was nothing minjun could do but blame himself for whatever jiwoon had become, unaware that there was a darkness within that boy long before minjun even met him, that he couldn't have helped him if he tried.

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀it also makes me think of this beautiful reply eggy ( @allkilled / @obituaried if ur not following them literally what's the point ??? ) wrote for me that to this day still FLOORS me because it just !!! it fits everything that became of minjun !!

" and what can I say of you? Burned too bright before you made it? Your soft heart ate you alive from the inside out, and the industry swallowed you up long before I could sink my teeth into you. "

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀minjun has been dead since the beginning, has been a victim of the industry long before he was jiwoon's. he was destined to burn as bright as his fleeting career had, a supernova for the masses to witness in all of his glory. he can only hope that his destiny has left a long lasting impression on those that supported him, that his fans think of him and feel warmth, and that they remember him for what he was, and not what he became.

[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!

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (3/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: unprotected & proctected sex, smut, angst, fluff, sexual tension, feeling of guilt, unprofessional behavior ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name. You can read this as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

They spent the next few days on set together with the other actors in a very pleasant atmosphere. He genuinely liked Daemon – he played the Princess's stepfather and had an incredible charisma that outshone everyone in every scene he appeared in.

He watched him intently from the sidelines, trying to remember his facial expressions and his reactions, wanting to use this later in his role.

To his satisfaction and relief, he could call his relationship with Rhaenys warm. She always smiled broadly at the sight of him and ran over to talk to him between scenes they weren't filming together, sometimes bringing him a sandwich or coffee from the vending machine.

"– you have to eat something – you can't survive on acting alone –" She said regretfully, and he shrugged his shoulders, biting into a sandwich with lettuce, tomato, cheese, pickles and sauce.

He had already forgotten about his eye patch and wasn't taking it off, not wanting to step out of character.

The day was fast approaching when they were to shoot the scene in which the Prince and his niece escape from the library together and spend their first night with each other.

It wasn't his first sex scene, but he had never played it with someone he cared about in any way, and her inexperience worried him.

As it turned out, he wasn't wrong, and the evening before shooting day she knocked on his door. When he let her in he could see that she was distressed and terrified, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

He let her in without a word.

"– I've never – you know – acted a scene like this and – more and more I feel that in front of such a large group of people I just won't be able to relax and get into character –" She muttered, standing in front of him but not looking at him, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was ashamed.

She was asking him for advice and help.

He nodded at her words.

"– it's natural – it's a very intimate scene – you have a right to feel insecure – me and the sexual psychologists are on set to help you –" He explained, putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers, looking away, feeling hot at the thought of what they were about to do.

Of course he knew they weren't going to have sex for real, however, they were going to be very close and he knew he was going to be touching her naked body.

She had a right to feel uncomfortable about this especially as he was more experienced than her, clearly not just as an actor.

She nodded and smiled at him, as if his words actually comforted her.

"– I – would you mind if we did a rehearsal? – I mean – if I go through it with you without cameras, hear your advice then maybe – maybe tomorrow it will be easier for me, I'll know exactly what I want to do –" She choked out in embarrassment, looking at him as if she was asking him if she was demanding too much of him.

He stared at her for a moment with his mouth open thinking he shouldn't be doing this, if only because his erection had swollen in his sweatpants at her request.

The fact that his cock wanted it meant that his mouth should refuse, but on the other hand he didn't want her to feel abandoned with something that obviously scared her.

He figured he needed to get a grip, think about her and her comfort.

He nodded and she breathed out loud, shifting from foot to foot, scared and excited at the same time.

"– so – where should we start? –" She asked quickly, and he involuntarily licked his lips, looking at her bare legs.

He wondered if she had panties under the material of her long, cream-coloured hoodie and cursed in the back of his head.

"– from the touch of a hand – a kiss – that opens the door to further emotions –" He replied in a hoarse voice, horrified that she had approached him, that she had taken his hand in hers, looking at him with her big, bright eyes.

God.

It wasn't good.

He kissed her more passionately than he had planned – his lips swollen involuntarily pressed against hers and brushed her skin with a loud click, from which she sighed, her soft, warm cheeks locked between the fingers of his hand.

He sighed quietly when it became apparent that his directness did not deter her – she followed his lead, her hands enclosed his cheeks in a tender embrace, from which he involuntarily put his arm around her waist. Her body slammed against his, and her belly felt what was happening in his trousers.

He felt her tremble and moan quietly in his embrace, surprised and ashamed, parting her lips invitingly, allowing him to tentatively slip his moist tongue between them.

They sighed against their throats, pressing against each other, his hips beginning to rub against her while his kisses became more ferocious, aggressive, messy, full of their saliva, teeth and tongues.

He heard her sound of surprise as his hands slid down to her buttocks and clamped down on them, slipping under the material of her shorts. When she threw her hands over his shoulders he simply lifted her, grabbing her hips and turned, throwing himself on the bed with her.

"– too much wine, uncle? –" She asked with amusement, following the script, letting their lips melt again and again in soft, deep, warm kisses, sticky with their saliva and tongues. He grinned under his breath at his words, running his swollen erection between her thighs.

"– you'll see in a moment –" He gasped into her throat, her arms hugging him close pressing his body closer, her legs intertwined on his back making him feel like his cock was about to explode with desire.

"– and now what? –" She mumbled excitedly, clearly wondering how actors performed these kinds of scenes without having sex.

The problem was, that he felt like it.

He rested the weight of his body on his hands, placing them on either side of her head, looking at her for a moment – her glossy, puffy lips were parted in an accelerated breath, her eyes shining, warm, bright, her gaze misty.

God, how badly he wanted to fuck her.

"– in the scene the Prince exposes her breasts – can I do it? –" He asked in a trembling voice and she nodded, the expression on her face full of trust and confidence from which he felt a tightening in his stomach.

As he grabbed the material of her hoodie she raised her hands above her head to make his task easier. He pulled it off her reverently, feeling his breath get stuck in his throat at the sight of her lovely, plump breasts and her little nipples.

"– so pretty –" He whispered, leaning over her body, placing a gentle kiss on her sternum, from which her whole body trembled.

"– so, so good –" He murmured, not knowing fully himself what he was actually doing, convincing himself that he was trying to reassure her, to give her a sense of security.

Her hands stroked his short hair slowly and tenderly as his lips, with loud clicks of his saliva, lazily found their way up her neck and to her jaw, her soft, warm cheek, and finally her mouth, whose wetness he welcomed with relief.

He heard her moan quietly, surprised, clasping her hands over his neck and the material of his shirt as his hips began to roll back and forth, rubbing against the space between her thighs, mimicking the movements he would make if he were deep inside her.

"– ah –" She sighed, tilting her head back, his hot, swollen lips trailing over her fragrant neck while his hands blindly found her smooth breasts, caressing them and kneading them tentatively between his fingers.

Despite the fact that they should be speaking their lines, only silent moans of shame and panting came from their mouths. He knew, feeling her hips come up to meet his, that what they were doing was slowly turning into something else entirely, but neither of them dared to admit it.

Her body, the touch of her hands, her embrace, her scent, it was all so pleasant, warm, familiar, sincere, desired.

"– fuck –" He muttered, involuntarily speeding up the rocking motions of his hips and groaned a tad too loudly, betraying that he was long past his role, that what she felt under the material of his sweatpants was embarrassingly real.

It seemed to him that she didn't know what to make of this fact, hugging him close, trying to understand what she herself felt, why she was allowing this to happen, what was actually going on between them.

"– it feels good –" She mumbled into his ear, making his hard erection push against her stomach. She gasped, surprised, clenching her fingers on the material of his shirt as she felt his slick, moist tongue run over her neck, his hand sliding down to her warm thigh.

"– too good –" He confessed, embarrassed that his hand had slid lower between her legs, his fingertips teasing the material of her soaked panties and what was beneath them.

She squealed and tilted her head back, at the same time wanting to push him away and hold him close, feeling his fingers wander around her hot, pulsing womanhood, squeezing it gently.

"– ah – ah, oh God –" She whimpered, involuntarily spreading her thighs wider, wordlessly giving him permission to do what they both knew they shouldn't have done.

They both groaned embarrassedly loudly when, with an impatient flick of his hand, he pushed the material of her panties aside, sinking his fingers into her warm, silky folds, all sticky from her wetness.

"– just like that – that's what you should feel – tension –" He whispered in a trembling voice, kissing her hot, soft cheek loudly and lingeringly, digging his fingertips into her sensitive, tender skin, teasing and rubbing the space around her little bud, making her whole body tremble under him in convulsions.

"– Aemond – a-ah – mghmmm –" She mumbled out as she felt his fingers invade her swollen slit, throbbing with desire, all leaking from his treatments. He closed her mouth with his own as he slowy and gently slid his middle finger into her quivering, fleshy, hot interior, her walls sucking and clenching around him, tight and swollen.

He moaned low as her hands slid down to the fabric of his trousers, undoing his button and zipper. Knowing what she wanted to do he finished the job for her, watching with his mouth wide open as she herself slid her shorts and panties down her thighs, panting loudly along with him.

They clung to each other again immediately, their kisses lustful, shameless, loud, intimate – his hands slid down between her thighs, his fingers spread the folds of her little cunt open to the sides, letting the fat head of his cock find her throbbing, weeping slit.

She threw her head back as the thick, smooth tip of his erection burst inside her with her loud moan of pleasure, the next helpless thrust of his hips into her throbbing, tight interior made him know there was no turning back.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry –" He breathed out, pounding deeper and faster into her with each word, imposing an aggressive, rough pace on her, her body, however, welcomed him with ease – he leaned forward, listening as her slick pussy was filled with his swollen erection with each successive shameless slap of their bodies against each other, their breaths heavy, their moans helpless, too loud, too animal, too desperate.

"– m-me to – fuck – fuck, God, oh fuck –" She mumbled and pleaded at the same time, tightening her fingers on his buttocks, directing him back deep inside her again and again.

Her tight, warm walls gave him a wonderful squeeze again each time he slammed into her, his body pressed hers against the bed which began to creak loudly beneath them, their bodies bumping against each other like mad with loud clicks of their wetness creating one big, wet, sticky mess between their thighs.

"– fuck – so fucking good – God, yes –" He breathed out, chasing his own fulfilment, as was she, not thinking about what they were actually doing or why, focused only on the fact that it felt wonderful, that it felt safe and that he wanted to come inside her, inside her, just inside her, as deep as possible.

"– m gonna cum –" She muttered helplessly, as if she was about to burst out crying with pleasure, and then she wept loudly, coming hard on his cock, her warm, fleshy walls beginning to squeeze and suck him inside.

He felt his mind stop functioning, the tension and tingling in his lower abdomen, testicles and length was approaching its zenith, and he wanted only one thing – to come inside her.

"– do you – God, oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK –" He cursed, before he asked the question feeling his warm seed fill her insides, bringing his body a relief from which he groaned low, his mouth wide open by how a strong wave of pleasure shook his body.

They looked at each other with eyebrows arched in pain, her gaze warm and tender, her hands running down his sweaty back and cheeks.

"– i-its – it's okay – I'll make sure I don't find myself pregnant –" She mumbled, something in her words and in her gaze made him want to cry.

How could he have been so irresponsible?

"– I'm sorry – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled out, feeling with embarrassment that warm tears one by one began to run down his cheeks onto her face.

Not a second passed and they both burst into sobs and hugged each other like little children, lying like that, exposed and vulnerable, bare before each other.

"– was it – was it real? –" She muttered in a breaking voice, and he nodded, choking on his own tears.

"– yes –"

He personally drove her to a twenty-four-hour pharmacy so she could buy a ‘morning-after’ pill. He insisted she let him pay, but she said there was no need. She returned a while later with a packet and a bottle of water, getting into his car.

All around them only night and silence.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to. It's my fault." He muttered, but she shook her head.

"– yes – I mean – I asked for a pill that will prevent conception if it hasn't happened yet – there's a good chance it will be enough –" She muttered, reading the leaflet quickly, and he nodded, feeling ashamed, sad and disappointed in himself.

"– I'm sorry –" He muttered, repeating it for the hundredth time that evening.

"– it's okay –" She replied, popping a tablet into her mouth and sipping it with water. She took a heavy breath, as if relieved and sad at the same time, then nodded.

"– let's go –"

By the time they got back to the hotel, it was almost midnight. He escorted her to her room, not knowing what to say, how to act.

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

She looked at him, surprised, and swallowed hard.

"That's okay. Don't feel guilty. I have my own reason too." She replied, looking down at her fingers in embarrassment.

"I want to stay with you. If you want me to." He replied in a trembling voice, looking down at the floor, feeling ashamed of how small he felt now.

A great actor who can't even put a condom on his cock before putting it inside good girl who came to him for help and advice.

She nodded and went inside, and he came in after her, bitter and broken. They lay down side by side on her bed facing each other. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then he leaned in – she opened her mouth thinking he wanted to kiss her, frightened, but he only pressed his forehead against hers, his hand stroking her soft, warm cheek.

"– try to sleep – hm? – I'll stroke your head –" He whispered. Her eyes glazed over with tears for some reason, her small body clung to him, seeking refuge in his chest.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, stroking her back and hair, again and again placing a moist, tender kiss on the top of her head.

It felt so right.

They fell asleep like this, entwined in a tender, warm, safe embrace, and he thought, listening to her calm breath, that never before in his life had he felt such a need to protect someone.

Despite what he had promised himself, each of their meetings in her room, the pretext for which was to rehearse the script together, ended with their naked hips slapping against each other greedily with their loud moans of pleasure.

Their hands tightened on their bodies in a way that was not overbearing, aggressive, but tender, gentle, wanting nothing more than to become one.

He was ashamed that even though they pretended to meet as friends, he made sure he had a condom or two in the back pocket of his trousers every time before he was to come to her.

He didn't want her to go through again what she had when they first had sex.

On the one hand, the thought that she might have believed that he wanted to take advantage of her terrified him, so he assured her, kissing affectionately her exertion-soaked, sweaty cheeks, that he needed it as much as she did.

Never before in his life had he felt something like this, such an overwhelming need to be close to someone.

Afterwards, he always stayed through the night with her – even if he wanted to, he couldn't deny himself the warm embrace of her arms and fell asleep with his face cuddled between her naked, soft breasts.

It was real.

The director was delighted with the tension and electricity they were able to generate between each other on set without knowing that it had long since ceased to stem from their acting.

They teased and joked with each other between scenes, adding improvised, biting or ambiguous remarks to the script that they thought suited the era, and then, when it was all over, they sank into each other's bodies until they were one sticky, panting, throbbing mess.

His grandfather was proud of him and said that already several other productions were interested in casting him in the role.

"Seeing how you've handled the bed scenes, this will go easily for you." He said over breakfast, which they ate together. He felt a sense of discomfort at the thought.

"I want to limit myself to productions where I don't play intimate scenes. It costs me too much." He lied, not knowing how to explain that what was happening in front of the cameras was not because of his acting skills, but because his cock simply stood at attention when her tongue licked his on set.

His grandfather laughed under his breath.

"Don't be silly. You have to grab the opportunity. You're on a wave of recognition right now, everyone is waiting with bated breath for this show. If you are successful, the world will open up to you." He said, taking a sip of coffee from his cup.

"Some great artists have never played any intimate scene. I'm not a porn actor." He said coldly, grabbing for his phone, hearing it start to vibrate and saw that he had received a text message from her asking if they were going to watch The Lion King tonight.

He smiled involuntarily at the thought.

"Are you listening to me? You think you're shagging that little girl and you've fallen in love? Romance on set happens, but you're being dramatic." Said Otto, and he looked at him, shocked to feel his heart leap into his throat.

"Don't speak about her like this. Never." He growled warningly, looking him straight in the eye. His grandfather was silent for a moment.

"That won't do. She lives far away, once the shooting is over the thing between you will be over too. Don't be naive."

"It's a three-hour drive from our town by car."

"What?"

"She lives three hours away from our town by car."

His grandfather looked at him in disbelief.

"You are making this naive girl hopeful. Don't waste her life and your career in the process. Don't turn down good offers."

He pressed his lips together at his words, looking at him indifferently.

"I will decide what proposals I consider good."

They had spent the last few days between shoots, during the day and at night in bed, and their disappearance together had sparked gossip and curiosity.

It was, however, the last thing he thought of when he could finally clamp his hands on her naked buttocks and slide her panties off her, a smile on her lips knowing that he certainly wasn't even bothering to take off the summer dress she had changed into.

"– the scene in Harrenhal – I almost fucked you there for real, you know? –" He gasped, kneeling on the bed in front of her, looking down at her with lips swollen with desire as his long fingers quickly took care of his trouser button and zipper.

"– come here –" He murmured, grabbing her by the hip and pushing her closer to him, her legs spread out in front of him in some natural gesture of trust and acceptance as he placed the condom over his painfully hard erection.

"– 'm sorry –" She mumbled out, thinking for some reason that she should be remorseful that he couldn't feel her completely, just like the first time.

"– stop – when this is over, we'll think about you taking pills – hm? –" He asked encouragingly, leaning over her, the weight of his body resting on his elbow as his free hand guided the head of his cock against her leaking, throbbing hot slit.

Her eyes got big at his words, as if she didn't believe he could want there to be anything after and she nodded quickly, making him feel that familiar heat spreading through his chest.

He leaned over and kissed her in a way he'd never kissed any woman before – their soft, warm lips were one loud, sticky, wet mess, their hands clenched on their bodies, holding them close together as he opened her wide on his long erection with one lazy thrust.

"– oh –" They both sighed, looking at each other with misty eyes, their mouths wide open as he began to pound into her quicker and deeper with loud, wet slaps of skin against skin.

"– A-Aemond – oh God –" She mewled, throwing her head back in pleasure, his hands blindly finding her breasts, sliding from the sides under the material of her dress, clamping down on their plump, firm structure.

"– you didn't touch yourself, did you? – am I right? – my sweet baby girl –" He hummed with a hint of sweet threat in his question, sliding his swollen lips down her cheek to her neck and jaw, leaving a warm, wet trail on her skin.

"– I – mghmm – n-no –" She mumbled out, stroking his hair and buttocks, her legs crossed over his back as his erection no longer slipped out of her, thrusting into her greedily, bringing him closer and closer to his peak, his mind and body hot with desire.

"– good girl – fuck – m close –" He gasped weakly, feeling a wave of pleasure approaching and a tightening in his testicles. His lover reached out eagerly to meet him with her hips, slapping against, his skin, crying and babbling about how much she good it felt, him deep, deep, inside her.

Their bodies intertwined in a close embrace as he pressed her tighter to the bed, imposing a brutal, fierce pace on her exactly as in the scene they were about to act out. Her scent, her moans, the warmth of her body and her fleshy walls, squeezing and sucking him inside, made him come in a condom with a low groan of relief.

He lay on top of her, panting heavily while his hand from between her breasts slid between their bodies, down to her thighs – his fingers gave her puffy bud a few encouraging, teasing squeezes before her little cunt began to pulse around his half-hard manhood in euphoria and her body was shaken by a sweet, hot orgasm from which she drifted off completely.

They lay like that for a long moment with their eyes closed, cuddled into each other, listening to the indistinct sound of conversation outside the window a few floors below, where the restaurant was located.

"– Aemond? –" He heard her quiet whisper, her hand stroking his head gently. He lifted his misty gaze to her, dreaming now only of a nap in her embrace.

"– hm? –"

"– what will happen after the shooting? –" She asked quietly, and he smiled lazily, for some reason calm and happy.

"– we will stop pretending to be actors –"

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you do the cullens with a mate who is a painter?

The Cullens with a Painter! Reader

I haven’t painted in YEARS omg, I moved to using my iPad a couple of years ago but I still remember the basics so here we go

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s also an artistic person

So he understands what drives you to create

His favorite thing to do is to play the piano while you paint

It just makes him feel so warm inside

He loves watching you paint as well

It’s so fascinating to watch what you see in your mind and then as you translate it onto the canvas

And he loves your artwork

He hangs it up all over the walls in his room

Genuinely thinks you should enter in a contest

Alice:

She loves your artwork so much

It’s so fascinating to her how you can just conjure up something so amazing

She also loves to buy you new paints and canvases

Every time she’s out buying new clothes or something she sees a new paint and she’s like “ooh that color’s pretty”

Keeps every single thing you make for her

Loves watching you work

She doesn’t care if she’s being creepy

She just loves you and wants to hang out

Jasper:

He’s fascinated and enamored by your emotional state when you work

He loves when you paint faces because your mind flickers to whatever emotion you’re trying to convey on the paper

It’s a very interactive experience for him

He almost likes tuning in to your mind more than your actual artwork

But he does obviously love your paintings

He does whatever you want him to

You need a life model? Well it’s a good thing he can stay still for hours

Want more paint? He already has his car keys in his hand

Rosalie:

She used to be really into painting and drawing

But she always thought she was bad at it so she just stopped

So when you come around she falls in love with it again

She wants you to teach her everything

She’s always hard on herself

She thinks her stuff is never as good as yours

But she loves painting with you

She can almost overlook her own hatred for her artwork

And yes she hangs up everything that you make in her garage

Emmett:

I don’t think he’s a very artsy person

Unless you want to call the fact that he can gut and skin a bear in less than 30 seconds an art form

But he can appreciate good art

So when he sees some of your paintings for the first time he is blown away

“You made these? Like actually? That’s so fucking sick”

Proudly displays anything you give him

You doodled on a paper during school and he stuck it in the front pocket of his binder

And he tells everyone who asks exactly where it came from

Esme:

She’s a painter

I don’t make the rules I just follow them

All of the artwork currently hanging up in the Cullen house is her work

And yes she’s very proud of the grad cap piece

So she is so excited when she finds out you also love to paint

Two peas in a pod

Painting dates are a must

And she is more than happy to take down some of her stuff to make room for yours

You don’t even need to ask

Carlisle:

I feel like he’s a jack of all trades

He’s been around long enough I sure hope he knows how to do everything at least a little bit

But he’s nowhere near as good as you

He’s so proud that his SO is such a talented artist

He convinces the clinic to hang up a couple of your pieces in the boring exam rooms

People compliment them all the time and he tells them exactly who made them

Don’t ever worry about buying art supplies ever again btw

Vampire! Bella:

I don’t remember if she ever drew during the books or movies, but she just screams art kid to me

She had a phase in middle school, thought she sucked so she stopped

So she’s astonished when she sees what you make

“I couldn’t make that even if Van Gogh himself taught me”

She loves watching you work

It’s so calming to her

If she could sleep, she would fall asleep watching you

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

warnings: bad writing perhaps

How Does He Act With A Crush?

he’s so cute when he has a crush. he finds excuses to hang out with you, he’s nicer to you than he is to anyone. he does his best to charm you with his ‘bad boy’ persona and then drops it to just be that soft funny guy. he’ll let you borrow his books and he’ll read any you recommend, he lets you borrow his cds, sneaks you free stuff from luke’s, probably steals something of yours to remember you by when he’s sitting alone.

Love Languages

i think jess is an acts of services and gift giving kind of guy. he’ll annotate books for you, give you books, drive you around, carry things for you. he’ll let you drag him places as long as it makes you happy too. he keeps your best interests in his heart. he struggles with voicing his feelings. he’s physically affectionate, but it’s mostly hand holding and kissing.

Gifts

he definitely listens to you when you talk. he learns what your favorite candy is to randomly give to you when you’re hanging out. he gives you books based off your taste and he expects you to tell him what it was about and if you liked it or not. he buys you cds and records of your favorite artists and does his best to find collectors items too. has bought you little antique trinkets that are genuinely adorable.

Dates

like i said, he takes mental notes on what you talk about, he’s a great listener. if you mention having seen a new restaurant open he’ll take you there for dinner. he enjoys taking you out for ice cream (there’s ice cream at the diner, but no cones), taking you book shopping, record shopping, seeing a bad movie to make fun of it (at home or in theatre), going to concerts or small gigs. he loves just walking around with you and talking too. keeps a hand in your back pocket or an arm around your waist. if you ask him to a town event he’ll complain about it and say no for a while but if you keep asking he’ll probably say yes, or he’ll come up with an alternative date.

Kisses

when you first start dating he genuinely cannot stop kissing you. stops you mid conversation to kiss you and then goes back in his same position to listen to you continue talking. kisses your cheek when he really wants to kiss you but you’re ranting. kisses you to shut you up. of you want him to shut up, it's effective on him as well. kiss him and you can get you whatever you want. he’d give you the world if you asked, anyways.

Random

he does magic tricks for you!! sometimes your brain hurts from reading so much or you’re studying and you want a break so he busts out his cards and just does some tricks for you. sometimes he’ll take you to the lake and you two sit on the bridge and sit in silence, holding hands and looking at the water while thinking about whatever. whenever he’s upset, this is his favorite thing to do with you. he honestly doesn’t peg me as the jealous type. unless you outright hang out with an ex or a guy who clearly has a crush on you, he won’t care. he trusts you. he’ll ho to parties with you, but he makes sure both of you steer clear from drinking. while yes, he would normally drink at a party, you’re here and he doesn’t want to worry you and he certainly doesn’t want you drinking. he would stop smoking for you if you asking him to!! sometimes you to sit in the park/town square and he’ll be reading on the grass while you’re sitting on a bench and his head is between your knees so you can play with his hair. it calms him down, and also it’s fun to mess up his hair without his knowing. he offers his jacket to you when it’s cold and then you get to watch him start shivering before he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close to him for a bit of warmth. he takes care if you before himself!! if you say you need help he’s immediately coming to your rescue. stuck on a homework question? he’ll figure it out, don’t worry. your car won’t run? he’ll figure it out, don’t worry. your sink won’t stop dripping? he’s no plumber, but it shouldn’t be too hard. pet names are weird to him, but a small ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ will leave his lips inbetween kisses or when he’s about to softly correct you on something. whenever you talk he’s looking at you with the softest eyes, a small smile on his lips. he seriously doesn’t understand what he did to interest you in him. sometimes he’s mean bc he’s mean to everyone and it’s his defense mechanism against the world. blows you off when he’s upset but the longer you’re together the better he gets at communicating he’s upset and letting you try to improve his mood. please hug him and let him hold you and kiss your hair it’ll do wonders for him. he’s half hopeless romantic half asshole. he’s such a loser boyfriend. the beginning of the relationship is puppylove and then it leads to real love and he doesn’t know how to handle it. it’s amazing but scary.

he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to tell you because he’s never been loved back before.

[lovenonymously]

the importance of well-written stories

watching Lovely Runner was like watching 4 K-dramas at once lol

well-written stories are so rare, you only understand that when you watch something exceptional. something unique. a once in a lifetime experience of watching it for the very first time.

this show gave me so many feelings. in truth, it was an experience. I'm glad I put aside my fear of sad endings and watched as it aired. for once, I took the leap and discovered that's exactly what this drama wanted me to learn.

usually, after finishing really good K-dramas or stories in general, I hit a slump where I cannot function. everything feels dull and boring. a different kind of grief at realising this was just fictional.

but not this time.

all I feel is light and happy. like I'm floating. I want to carry this feeling and runaway. I want to remember how this felt and hold onto it when I get down or get bad days.

lifetimes lived.

Sol was sunlight. bright and unwavering and unforgettable. 💛

living vicariously through Im Sol, from feeling her pain in the beginning to her sunny hope that Sun Jae gave her. all her struggles as she jumped through various lifetimes, loved and lived and loved again. crying with her, laughing with her, rooting for her despite all odds. it was a journey.

beyond her love for Sun Jae, Sol's choices changed her family's life too. they were less hurt and much happier in the future she helped them create. even giving her grandmother a chance to return to the past and relive her fondest memories.

Sun Jae was midnight rain. the comfort of a sudden shower in the middle of summer. 💙

apart from being a complete loser in love, Sun Jae was in love with Sol for a total accumulated time of 45 years.

yep. my reaction exactly ^

I won't lie, when they pulled the "he fell first" trope in Episode 2, I was wary. one, because if the writers were willing to pull such a twist in just the second episode, then who knew what else was in store for us? my guess was pretty spot on, the twists that followed had me gasping and yelling out loud. this show was unpredictable from beginning to end.

and two, because I was worried that Sun Jae's character might get reduced to just him being in love with Im Sol.

in that case, I'm glad to say,

I was completely wrong.

despite Sun Jae's love for Im Sol, he had a grounded personality of his own. whether it was OG Sun Jae (ep 1), who lived in the guilt of what happened to the girl he loved, or Timeline 3 Sun Jae (ep 15), who never fell in love at all, he was positive, kind, decisive and striving to live.

and i love that about him.

for two characters whose stories are so deeply interwoven together, having shaped aspects of each other's lives, Sol and Sun Jae displayed their unique traits exceptionally well as individuals.

I cannot emphasize how happy this makes me. Sun Jae is his own person, Sol is her own person, and they are destined to be together. beyond their desperation for each other's safety and well-being, Sol and Sun Jae are genuinely good people who deserved to be together. even fate and time bent to their will to make it happen.

"As you wait for the rain to stop, live another day."

when a story makes you feel happy, hold onto that feeling. bottle it up. write it down. come back to it on the days the world feels against you and when the times feel too bleak.

fictional though it is, for what it's worth, at least the story exists. it means there are still people out there writing and bringing such stories to life. it means artists and creators like you and I haven't yet forgotten what it's supposed to be like to live. it means there are still people who connect to such stories and learn good things from it.

and as you wait for more such great stories, live another day. perhaps, if you get bored, write the story you want to read.

in the end, it's quite simple.

as for me, I'll be here. crying, laughing, screaming, giggling and kicking my feet while being up to my eyes in second-hand embarrassment (because goodness, these two idiots are COMPLETE LOSERS IN LOVE) throughout these past 8 weeks was the highlight of my year ✨ I will always remember that I watched a beautiful modern fairytale romance in the summer of '24 that reminded me that I was young and full of love to give.

good stories truly do make a difference 🤍

[undercover-smutlover]

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley…💀

main masterlist📌

*·˚Don’t forget to reblog, follow, like, and comment on the authors’ or artists’ pages. Show them some love!

*·˚Broken link or @? Pop a note in the comments or my ask box.

Works by @ghostsareeverywhereblah2

Guard Dogs Pt.1: “He’s even cuter in person”

Guard Dogs Pt.2: “She’s always listened, just not to you”

The Progeny Series: “Shit, Lt. Looks like you actually have a real admirer”

Grumpy x Sunshine: Who in the world can be in a relationship with Simon?

Works by @lethalchiralium

Delicate + König: You were glad you had them both, satisfying your needs

Raindrops: He’s trying to remember every moment

Works by @ghosts-cyphera

Bloodied Bullets, Soft Confessions: “I guess I’d been lucky so far.”

Pornstar Ghost:  All genuine, from both of you

Works by @peachesofteal

Dead Disco: The one that’s always left behind

Light On: Simon has a new neighbor

Through Me (The Flood): Still, even in this moment, you leave him breathless

Works by @lvrxly

Singledad!Ghost: "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease

An Odd Feeling:

Works by @chaosandmarigolds

Among the Bullets Ch.1 Pt.1, Ch.1 Pt.2, Ch.2 Pt.1 , Ch.2 Pt.2: “Adrenaline makes the body do some pretty insane things, sir.”

Pre-K Universe

Works by @tojisun

My Baby Swinging: Simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures

The Apple that rolled over to The Tree

It Takes A Rampage (to be a dad)

Works by @bi-writes

Final Girl

Pregnant!Reader Snapping at Simon

Clean Up Call

Works by @writersdrug

Training For Two

Tea and Cigarettes

Works by @halcyone-of-the-sea

Sole Survivor: “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Digging Gaze: But he was afraid, as well. Terrified

Three Is A Crowd by @xyziiix: Well your Captain always like proving you wrong

Cherry by @barefoothighlander: Ghost finds out about your side gig

The Captain by @as-is-above-so-below: Ghost’s wife joins the team on an op agaisnt his wishes

Bleeding Out Pt.1, Bleeding Out Pt.2 and Bleeding Out Pt.3 by @constantcrisis19: A bomb almost levels the entire town. Ghost extracts you.

Oneshots & Multichapter and Price’s Birthday by @rileyslibrary: An entire collection of Simon Riley oneshots

The Things I Never Said Pt.1 and The Things I Never Said Pt.2 by @lvlyghost: When the inevitable happens, you run

Ghost in the Austrian Asylum by @prazinos: The two of you want him as well

Painless Bruises by @tacticaldiary: Avoiding Simon’s gaze is harder than it’s ever been

The Experiments by @diaryofanidiot: Forced to fight and claw her way to live

The Accused by @amoristt: You fucking ran. What choice did you have?

Badges of Honor by @clairdelunelove: Ghost always recieves the biggest stickers

King!Ghost x Princess!Reader by @hyperactively-me: Stubborn Princess who warms up to the King

Ghost x Civillian Masterlist by @sim0nril3y: How he met his civillian and fell in love

The Twins by @princessdimondheart: He saw his own eyes

How many fingers am I holding up by @sprout-fics: “Don’t hate me for this, Si.” You think weakly

Lime-Sized by @imperihoe-writes: Sighing happily, she wiggled a bit deeper into his embrace

Bodyguard!Simon x Popstar!Reader by @xo-cod: Simon looks on in pride

Phantom Frost Line by @diejager: You’re a new face, unknown to Ghost and he isn’t too keen about the news

Nothing’s New by @thewriterg: He held you like he always will and as he always had

Unmasked Love by @springtyme: she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face

Welcome Home by @babygirl-riley: but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was

Odds On by @bits-and-babs: The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory

His Heart, His Light, His World by @thexsilentxwordsmith: "You deserve it all, Simon. Every once of it."

Unexpected by @dammn-dean: Simon felt a pang of something up his spine, similar to jealousy but close to disappointment in himself.

If Only You Would Have Trusted Me by @ltghosty: That was the only thing that helped you come to peace with the things you were forced to do in order to protect your family.

Husband!Simon by @ahqkas: he didn’t hesitate to scoop the smiling baby up into his arms

Glory Days by @sstormyskyesss: If you weren't focused on calculating the best strategy out of this particular setback, you’d be able to see the stars in Simon’s eyes

Simon Riley Collection by @starstruckmiraclekitty:

Cure For Me [zombie!ghost] by @groguspicklejar:

Who Wants to Live Forever by @writeforfandoms: Then his lips twitched. “Took you long enough.” 

Vegas Wedding by @ceilidho: When he stretches an arm up to scratch his upper back, you almost whimper at the way his arm bulges. 

Secret Haven by @lightwing-s: and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

Lovely by @daisies-daydreams: “Even though this isn’t on my finger while I’m at work, I’ll always act like it is,” you reassured him

Homeward Bound AU by @writeforfandoms: You spared a brief thought of thanks that your mother had taught you everything about this job. 

Firefighter!Simon Riley by @thelaisydazy: He loves the ones handed over the counter by the cute worker that smiles at him and fusses over the dog every morning.

Simon’s Favorite Hair by @lovifie: And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.

Coffee Shop by @sinkovia: His life was good, and he couldn't ask for more

The Next of Kin by @soapybutt17: Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name

Nurse by @jayybugg: Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him.

Gold Rush by @midnightarcheress

Soft Spot by @cordeliawhohung

Hatred For You Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5 by @mangowafflesss

Dad!Simon by @tacticalgirlboss

Accidental Sugar Baby Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 by @brainoutofstock

Special Eye on Singlemom!Reader by @bi-writes

Meeting Single-mom!Reader by @zvdvdlvr

Russian Roulette by @writingangst

No More by @mayflysdie

Footballer Simon by @dante-mightdie

Transferrable Skills by @dragonnarrative-writes

implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley by @drgnflyteabox

Was Warm by @eevee-of-eternity

Ghosting Series Pt.1, Pt.2 by @bittersw33t-lotus

Weird by @fivechapters

Beaded Bracelet by @manicrouge

The Poor Decision by @ceilidho

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[authorred]

Astarion headcanons because it's been too long and I love this man | Astarion x GN!Reader

Preface: Astarion, as complex as he tries to make himself out to be, is really a simple vampire. There are many ways to make him yours, and all of them don't require rocket science.

THIS MAN DESERVES THE WORLD--also it has been like 8 months since I last posted but shhhh

Warning(s): None

Don't talk about his bite mark scars much, if at all. It doesn't necessarily bother him, but he'd rather not talk about it

If you're an artist of some kind and you draw him, he'll try to brush it off by acting grandeur and arrogant, but internally he'll be twirling his hair and blushing

If you draw what you believe he looked like before being turned he won't react the same way, but he'll stare at it (maybe to try to remember?)

It's no secret that Astarion has sexual trauma. I don't think he'd do well with hypersexuality or someone who wants sex a lot

I don't think he'd mind you being sexually attracted to him--he wouldn't blame you smh--it's not a deal breaker for him

Personally, I think he'd do better if any sexual attraction came second

Like he's said, he needs time to do anything intimate. Not that he'd never do it again, but every time he did it in the past it was for an ulterior motive (or against his will)

He needs a friend first, partner second

Show him he's worth more than his seduction and body

Moonlit night dates

Massage his ears when he sleeps on you

Kiss his wrinkles and laugh lines--softly, chastely

Handle him gently

Do not even think about adding a third to your friendship/relationship. Astarion has most likely never had someone to himself, that would definitely make him feel unworthy/not good enough

Making him slightly jealous might be okay but tell him you find it cute when he's slightly jealous, and you appreciate it. Assure him that it's okay.

After having his guard up for so long it's natural he'll feel uncomfortable being vulnerable--assure him

Assure him a lot. Tell him his feelings are valid and that he's not wrong for feeling x

When he loves you, he loves you wholly. Any sexual feelings he has will come way down the line

When they do, go so slowly. You cannot be impatient, otherwise he'll shirk away, and the relationship will change

I think Astarion would flourish better in a majority nonsexual relationship (sorry x, he's sexy af but his lore and boundaries are more important than his rail-ability)

Compliment him a lot--not anything superficial--compliment him. Compliment him like how you'd want to be complimented by someone you love

If you can, write him poems

If you're going to inevitably die before Astarion; when you start to age he won't love you less--he'll love you more

Your health will always come before his

If you're sick he'll take care of you for the most part

If you're in danger, even if you can handle yourself, your survival is always number 1 to him

Will sacrifice himself for you

Won't accept the opposite, but knows he can't stop you if you did

Would be devastated if you died for him

Genuinely would never get over it

I don't think he'd want to get married in the traditional sense but he would 100% want to do something to prove his commitment

FLOWER CROWN MAKE THIS MAN A FLOWER CROWN

Please just be so patient with him

Don't treat him like fragile glass, but don't be rough with him either

PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS

Hug him a lot. He needs it

[miintsprigz]

Hi again!! Was wonderin if ya could do some hcs of Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engi, and Medic with a reader who loves to give and show them drawings they made, but gets pretty nervous when they watch them draw? If this isn't exactly yer cuppa tea or you just genuinely do not know how to write this, feel free to just ignore this request:]

Hope you have an excellent day/night/evening/afternoon/noon!!>:DD

Ah, I think I recognize you there! Good to hear from you again. I’ll give it a shot!

GN! Shy Artist Reader x Mercs

Characters: Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Engineer, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: None

Scout ⚾️

• The two of you tend to draw while you hang out, just chatting in the meantime.

• He absolutely adored your work, and loved watching you make it.

• But when you pulled your sketchbook to your chest quick, he seemed confused.

• “Hey! You good?” “Yeah, I uh…I just feel weird when you’re watching me draw.” “Huh? You don’t gotta feel embarrassed, doll!”

• “…You know when you tried to pull off a jump while Spy and Demo were watching the other day…” At this reminder, Scout gave you a teasing scowl—not genuinely mad, just embarrassed remembering that.

• “Ah geez—yeah, if they hadn’t spooked me by starin’ at me like a buncha creeps—oh.” “You get it now?”

• He got…a little confused. “Am I makin’ it worse? Aw man, I’m sorry—” “No, no! I just—that awkwardness? Yeah.” “Ohhh, I think I gotcha…”

•Scout, uh, scooted over on the bed a little and eventually sat back down with his back against yours. “There. This’ll fix it!” Both of you erupted into laughter.

•In all seriousness though, he respected your wishes. He keeps everything you make for him in his room, aside from a small doodle or two that he carries on him to work at all times…awww.

Pyro 🔥

•You and Pyro lay sprawled on the floor, with a can of colored pencils and a box of crayons respectively.

•They’re actually quite good when it comes to color, pairing different hues together. It’s hard to tell exactly what they’re drawing, but sometimes you can faintly make it out.

•You suddenly felt eyes very intently locked onto you and jerked your head up.

• “Hm??”, came through the mask, muffled. “Uh…could you um…”

•They did that curious little head tilt, tenderly reaching for your hand. If you needed to tell them something, they wanted to make sure they heard it!

• “I feel nervous when you watch me draw. I know it’s silly, but—” “Ah!” Genuine surprise from the masked figure. They’d had no idea.

•Immediately, there were muffled apologies from under the mask, quickly hugging you. “Hey hey, it’s okay! I’m not mad. I just figured I should tell you. You’re okay, Py.”

• “Mmph?” “Yes, dear. I promise.” Giggling a little now, they pulled their free hand over the eyeholes of the mask like a visor, blocking you from view. You chuckled along with them.

•Later on, as the two of you shared drawings, you made out a familiar visage—that of you, with a couple bright red hearts drawn nearby. “Hehe, I love you too.”

Sniper 🏹

• Mick didn’t often watch you draw, honestly. The two of you tended to do your own thing in the same space, talking occasionally. Even that was enough.

• Once you caught him watching on what was kind of an off day though. You kind of just stared back up at him.

• Sniper cocked an eyebrow. “Why’d ya stop?” Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked off to the side.

• You felt the bed next to you sink down a little as he moved closer. “Hey. Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say?” His voice was softer, more cautious. “…cuz ya know, I’d like to hear that.”

• Shuffling a bit to get more comfortable next to him, you sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but…I feel weird when people watch me draw.” “Yeah?”

• You nodded. “Kinda see what ya mean, I guess. Ya think they’ll judge the work-in-progress?” You silently agreed.

• A slight smile brightened his features. “Well, dunno if it helps, but I know a lil better, love.” His shoulder brushed against yours as you moved a bit closer.

• “I love everythin’ you make. And I know that you know what yer doin. But…if you’re more comfortable with me not lookin’, I get that too. That’s fine.”

• He went to move away, but you quickly clasped his shoulder softly, indicating that he could stay. “Maybe, I could try to keep going?” A laugh broke through as you admitted, “Besides, I like sitting next to you.”

• Humming contently, the Aussie planted the briefest of kisses on the top of your head. “Arright, darlin. You just lemme know.”

• As you kept working on that page, you did notice when he was watching, and it wasn’t easy, but after that he would have periods of staring off into space instead.

• There was a conciseness to it. He’d taken what you’d said to heart. Still, though, he seemed happy…and you were, too.

Engineer 🔧

• Dell had gathered quite a collection of your art by now, kept it on the wall of his workshop. He showed it off proudly to anyone who happened to enter, even if visitors tended to be few and far between.

• One night, you kept him company as he worked overtime on a new design for a model. While he worked, you did too.

• After a while though, you could tell someone was looking at you. As your gaze lifted, you caught him sneaking a peek from his desk, right next to the table where you sat.

• “Aw, did I break yer focus there? Sorry, honey.” “No no, it’s okay, Engie…I could put it away for now anyway, if you want something—”

• “No problem, (Y/N)! You can keep right on with that if ya like.” A somewhat sheepish smile came to your face.

“Hey, Engie…can you keep a secret?”

• “Mmm?” “…I get sorta nervous when people watch me draw.” A knowing sort of smile slowly crossed the Texan’s face, sliding his goggles up to rest on his forehead for a moment.

• “You wanna know a secret?”

“Hmm?”

A nostalgic sort of thoughtfulness crept into his voice. “I used ta be the same way.”

• “Really?” You never pictured the mellow, easygoing Engineer to ever be self-conscious in that way.

“Yup.”

• “People would ask me all sorts a’ questions while they watched me build. ‘How ya gonna make that work?’ ‘What’s that do?’ ‘Why’d ya put that there?’ Drove me crazy. Part of the reason I got a shop, I s’pose.”

• He held a spare nut and bolt, twisting them together and apart as he talked, somewhat absentmindedly. Eyes wandering a bit, but always making their way back to you.

• “But here’s somethin’ I think you oughta hear, although I’d never try ta make ya change. Your work is yours, darlin’. Yours and yours alone. Ya make such beautiful things. I’m not askin’ myself what you’re doin’ when I watch, cuz I already know.”

• He put the fidget aside and reached for your hand with a sweet smile. “Why do you like to watch me work?”

• You could feel your face redden just a bit, and grinned at the floor for a moment. He chuckled at this, in a lighthearted way though. “Cuz it’s really cool how you make everything work, and how smart you are with your designs.”

• “Yep. That’s why I like watchin’ you work. Own the process, (Y/N). It’s all yours. You know exactly what you’re doin.”

• “Thanks, Dell.” “Of course, honey. Of course.” From that moment onward, it seemed like he tried not to watch for too long, but when he did, you remembered his words. And it didn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking then.

Medic 💉

• Medic absolutely loved to watch you draw. It was fascinating to him. Seeing how giddy he got, it took you a while to work up the guts to tell him.

• “Is something wrong, Liebe? You’ve been stopped for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh…Medic, I wanna tell you something, but it’s weird.”

“Oh?”

• “I uh…I feel kinda…nervous, I guess? When people watch me draw.”

“…might I ask why?” He seems genuinely perplexed by this. “I think it’s fascinating.”

• Yeah, yeah he would. You weren’t sure how to explain this to him—you knew for sure that he didn’t mind when people watched him at work, he operated on fully conscious people!

• You sighed softly, unsure of how to make this make sense to him. A hand rested on your shoulder for a moment. “(Y/N), I can see this means a lot to you. And as much as I love watching you at work…I love you even more. So I’ll stop doing that.”

A smile crept up on you, glancing back up at him.

“I appreciate it a lot, love. Sorry I can’t put it into words.”

“No need to be sorry! But…I do have one request.”

“Yeah?”

• A sheepish sort of smile came to the doctor’s face. “I can…still see the finished product, right? And maybe, instead of me watching, you could tell me how you put everything together?”

“Of course! No problem.”

“Ah, wunderbar!”

I’ve been very tired lately so I’m sorry this took me so long, and that it’s sorta short/repetitive. I appreciate your patience!

[sh0tanzz]

wonbin's ideal type based on astrology pls

WONBINS IDEAL TYPE based on astrology

(I just wanted to remind you that this is for fun and astrology is something I study as a hobby, these are all inferences based on observations and not facts unless I knew him myself !!)

Physical Appearances: Honestly the crazy thing is that both I and other readers whether it was astrology, tarot, or intuitive reading have gathered that Wonbin's type isn't hyper-specific look-wise or is vv simple. He likes glass skin, a clean look, a slender silhouette, dark hair, and someone with a unique and darker or even emo style or choice of aesthetic. So almost like...a gender-bent him lowkey LMFAO. Outside of that there isn't much for physicality due to the fact Pisces Venus tend to like the idealistic and abstract attributes to a person rather than exact physical attributes. He might also like people that express themselves in a way thats "cool" or "different"

Personality: He loves people that create their own things and can tap into their artistic abilities. Could be into people who make their own music/choreos/paintings. Someone who's chill and mature but still has an extroverted fun side to them. He wants someone he practically has telepathy with..able to know and understand how he feels with just a look; and know exactly what to do to. His chart hints at him possibly having the issue of people being with him off of his looks and aesthetic alone and not his actual personhood and him just going along with it. He just wants someone to give a fuck about him in a genuine way and not superficially/just off his looks. Someone with a very comforting and loving aura that will be able to take care of him ultimately. A person who knows when to smother him in affection but not make him feel like he's drowning with the clinginess. Physical touch as a way to express emotions when words are too overwhelming would be ideal as well. Someone very easy going and doesn't hold grudges and can work through things. However he likes just a sprinkle of toxicity just a weeeee small bit.

Mentality/Values: Someone who has being empathetic and nurturing within their moral compass, Lets him take the lead in a traditional sense but is able to be independent if needed, someone who doesn't just sit there when problems arise and takes initiative to help, has all or nothing thinking in -genuine- relationships just like him.

Extras: Idk how to best word this but someone who isn't afraid to "be cute" 😭, despite wanting someone with a more unique type of style he might want someone that can still "match his fly", also likes people that aren't fake nice like please don't infantilize him or he'll lose it

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Authors Note: Remember a person's type is changeable and astrology is a blueprint not the final product ALSO Sohee as your boyfriend will be posted TMR !!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "forcing" my best friend to break up with his boyfriend?

🧸

I (22 cis m) and my best friend 'A' (21 ftm) have been friends since we were 10 years old and I love him more than anything. He’s genuinely the sweetest, most thoughtful, and funniest person I’ve ever met. He means everything to me and we’ve been there for each other through the hardest times of our lives so far and I plan on staying until the end.

It’s always been us two. Btw, everyone mentioned here uses he/him pronouns exclusively.

A has been with his boyfriend (21 cis m) for about 2 years now, and from what he told me, things were going great. Even if I’m not too fond of his boyfriend. A few days ago, we got pretty drunk at a friend’s housewarming party. A and I live together, and as soon as we got home, he suddenly started rambling about how he wishes his boyfriend cared about him the same way I do.

Legit felt like I was in some dumb romance movie for a moment there. I felt a little uneasy and asked him to elaborate. In short, his boyfriend essentially treats him like a doll instead of a person with real emotions. He feels as though his boyfriend just uses him to get his daily fix of physical affection and sex, that’s it. The only positive thing his boyfriend can say about A is that he’s cute, which boggles my mind. It’s true but there’s so much more to him as a human being.

A is an incredibly talented artist, super kind, super emotionally intelligent, and has a plethora of interests he loves to infodump about. I’m trying my hardest not to make this entire post about how amazing he is. He’s helped multiple friends clean their depression apartments and took them out to get fresh groceries etc. because it’s basic decency to him. He has such a big heart and holds so much love in it for everyone in his life. Being around him is just so easy and makes life worth living.

He’s just an incredible person all around and every single person that has him in their life recognizes that, except his boyfriend. They’ve had issues in the past because they’re not sexually compatible, which led to some miscommunication and made A feel like he was coerced into things he didn’t want to do. He just did them to make his boyfriend happy. He does a lot of things for his boyfriend, actually. He’s constantly buying little gifts, remembering what he likes, and plans cute dates for them to go on. His boyfriend does none of these things.

I want to mention that A has bpd and avpd. He has an intense fear of rejection and will do everything in his power to appease others so they won’t leave him. I always take the time to reassure him that I love him for who he is and not what he can give me. Basically just making sure he feels loved. Keep in mind, his boyfriend is aware of this but he just gets annoyed when A seeks reassurance from him. His behavior has made my blood boil several times in the past already, but I always kept it to myself for A’s sake. If I was vocal about disliking his boyfriend, it probably would’ve caused A a lot of distress and emotional turmoil.

Still, I don’t think this relationship is healthy for A and I know him well enough to know he won’t break it off on his own. It’s just his combo of personality disorders that makes it impossible for him. I told him about my concerns and he agreed, but said he feels bad for his boyfriend since he apparently doesn’t have any friends outside of A. From my POV, it just looks like his boyfriend knows A is out of his league and is grasping at straws to make A stay with him out of pity.

This is where I might be the asshole. I got a little frustrated and raised my voice, which I severely regret. I don’t want to blame it on the alcohol but it definitely had a hand in it. I finally told him about all these grievances I have about his boyfriend, how much I dislike him and how A deserves so much better, etc.. At one point, I essentially gave him an ultimatum. It’s me or his boyfriend. I didn’t really mean it, it was just a heat of the moment thing I spat out. I would never leave him like that.

A started crying and begged me to calm down, at which point I realized how shitty I was being and immediately began apologizing. We hugged, I comforted him, and we spent the rest of the night cuddling and talking about how he could approach the breakup.

Now that I’ve sobered up I feel like absolute shit. I know it’s not my place to tell A what to do with his romantic relationships, even if I’m his best friend. Plus, I want to be 100% honest here and say I might have romantic feelings for A. I think I have for a long time, but I always wrote it off as intense platonic love. So I may be biased in this whole conversation about his boyfriend.

I didn’t say these things because of that. I genuinely think his boyfriend is a huge dick and full of shit, no matter how sweet and loving he pretends to be. It’s all in the way he treats A. He’s one of those guys that paint their nails (nothing wrong with that but you know the kind of guy I’m talking about), pretend to be feminists, and steal their romantic partner’s personality to seem cooler. He even asked A to stop taking testosterone because he didn’t like how hairy A was getting or some shit like that.

He’s pansexual but has only ever dated girls and started dating A before A began medically transitioning. There’s obviously nothing wrong with that and changes nothing about the fact that he’s pansexual, he just pisses me off when he criticizes A for being 'too masculine'. You can have a preference for feminine people but don’t make that shit your partner’s problem when they just want to pass.

I feel like A’s boyfriend just thought A would always stay the smooth, baby-faced twink he was before going on testosterone and now makes him feel guilty for looking like a grown man. Some people don’t know how to appreciate hairy tummies.

Sorry for making this so long but I just want to be as honest and informative as possible to get proper opinions on the issue. A is now dead set on breaking things off because he now knows that I actively despise his boyfriend and he always puts my opinion above everyone else’s.

Was I in the wrong for doing this or am I just protecting my best friend? I’m glad he intends on ending things but I feel a bit like a conniving snake considering everything. It feels like I’m taking advantage of his mental state even if I’m not doing it consciously.

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 3

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next | masterlist

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: no use of y/n, "Bee" is reader's nickname Joel gave her, fluff, allusions to smut or almost, angst, miscommunication, there's a lot of tension and things are getting complicated.

a/n: Hello! Chapter 3 is here! I took time off this weekend so i had time for writing this and here we are. I really hope you like this one because things are going to happen next chapter 👀 Happy reading and remember, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, thanks for the love on this fic so far and I'm always love hearing from you, you can send me any ask or talk to me, and as always if you want to be tagged, just tell me 💌

Two days had passed since your encounter with Lauren, and during those two days, you had been doing your best to avoid Joel.  Not only for your own sense of humiliation but because you didn’t want to step into a story you weren’t part of. You felt ashamed of being in the middle of a relationship without closure between them.

However, Joel noticed and he started to miss you, your acts of affection, like the warm coffee you had been bringing to him in the morning and the genuine connection blooming between you. These two days just felt emptier without you.   you. These

He knew something was off with you, so he decided to face you and went to your flower shop with the only objective of talking to you in his mind. As he entered, the familiar sound of the bell he was getting used to chiming, he saw you there arranging a bouquet of roses as you always did. 

You glanced up, your expression guarded “Joel if you need anything. I’m really busy right now”

"No, you don’t” Joel replied firmly, walking to the counter to stand in front of him. “You can’t continue avoiding me like this.”

Your eyes narrowed as if you didn’t understand what he was talking about. “I’m not."

Joel took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Bee”

You sighed and looked at him in the eyes. “It’s hard, but Lauren”, you finally acknowledged the source of your discomfort.

“Oh. Who told you?” he asked, his voice tinged with guilt.

“What?” 

“It’s because I let her meet Sarah. Isn’t it? Because I didn’t tell you?” 

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came. A mix of emotions swirled inside you. But it mostly hurt. 

“Bee?” he pleaded, waiting for you to say something. 

“I have nothing to tell you, Joel,” you said, and undertone your words. 

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. “Are you jealous or what?” he accused you.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, defiantly.

“The way you’re acting,” he said, raising his voice.

"Joel, it's not just about that," you said, your voice lingering with frustration. "It's about how you asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend just for you to become closer to her?

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. “Bee, I didn’t want to hide it from you. I just... didn’t know how to explain everything. It's complicated."

You let out a bitter chuckle and Joel looked taken aback, almost offended. He didn’t know what to say to make things get better.

“Why do you care?” 

Your frustration was evident as you replied, "Because I'm stuck in the middle of this mess, Joel. I didn't sign up for this drama."

Joel's face contorted with a mixture of anger. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Sarah is my daughter. I know what’s good for her.”

Your frustration flared, and you spoke sharply, "You're so focused on your own problems, Joel, that you can't see how this affects everyone around you. Including me."

The tension reached its peak, and your voices rose in unison as you both shouted at each other, the anger and pain speaking for both of you.

"Well, that's my problem to deal with, go to hell!" Joel retorted.

"Fuck you!" you shouted back, your voice laced with frustration and pain. "Get out of here before I hit you in the damn face!"

With that, Joel turned and stormed out of your flower shop, leaving behind a cloud of unresolved emotions and a shattered pretense that had held your worlds together.

And Joel didn’t know why his heart hurt so much.

In the aftermath of your heated argument with Joel, you were left feeling like you were on fire. The tension between you had reached its peak, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had made a terrible mistake by getting involved with him.

Over the next hours, you tried your best to put some distance between yourself and Joel. You solely focused on your flower shop and threw yourself into your work, hoping that distraction would help you forget about the consequences of your actions. 

As you were busy cleaning the counter in your flower shop, you suddenly felt a pair of hands cover your eyes. Startled, you nearly dropped the cloth you were holding.

Your heart hammered in your chest thinking it was Joel with an apology, but then a familiar voice whispered in your ear, "Guess who?"

Your heart skipped a beat as a rush of emotions overcame you. You knew that voice and the feeling of those hands on your eyes. It couldn't be... could it?

With a mixture of excitement and disbelief, you reached up to remove the hands from your eyes and turned around. Standing before you was Connell, wearing his characteristic smile.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked just as handsome as ever.

"Connell!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you held him close. "When did you get back?”

Connell chuckled warmly, returning your hug. "Job offer” he replied. “Not here, but I wanted to see you.” 

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with happiness. 

“You look as stunning as always,” he said in disbelief. 

His compliment about your appearance brought a blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but smile. "You look pretty great yourself, Connell."

As Connell surprised you in your flower shop and you shared a warm embrace, Joel watched from a distance.

As you and Connell shared your warm embrace, neither of you noticed Joel watching from a distance. He was confused as he observed the reunion. Part of him felt a pang of jealousy, even though he couldn't quite explain why.

“That’s Connell if you are asking.”

Joel turned his head to face the voice. It was Lily. 

“Her ex,” she added.

Joel's gaze shifted from Lily to you from afar as she provided some context for him to understand what this could mean. His jaw tensed slightly as he processed the information. Your ex-boyfriend was here, and the situation suddenly felt even more complicated to deal with.

Lily, enjoying the drama, couldn't resist stirring the pot. She raised an eyebrow at Joel and asked, "So, Joel, why are you looking at her like a puppy?

Joel's expression remained guarded as he replied, "I just wanted to talk to her”. He said, “But I see she is busy”. The last sentence came with laced jealousy written over it. 

Lily couldn't help but grin at Joel's tone. She leaned in closer, her voice teasing. "Busy with her ex, it seems." 

Joel's jaw clenched, and he shot Lily a pointed look. "It's none of your business, Lily."

“They were so in love, you know?”  Lily continued to tease. "Oh, I can tell. The way Connell's looking at her, it's like he never left."

Joel's irritation was palpable, but before he could respond, Lily added, "But hey, Joel and Bee are nothing real, so no need to get jealous.” 

Joel sighed, realizing that Lily wasn't going to let this go. "Lily, can we not do this right now?"

Lily stopped, but her mischievous grin remained. "Alright, alright, Joel. I’ll go, but come back later. You may find her in a better mood.” 

With that, she patted him on the shoulder and headed towards the door of your shop, leaving Joel dealing with his own mixed feelings towards you.

By the next day, Joel grew incredibly worried about you not showing up at your job. The worst scenarios came to his mind, the thought of him and Connell spending the night together the one stabbing deeply in his heart.

The idea of having you next to his gallery for four years, not caring about you at all now, you being the only thought in his mind, made him mad. He hated the feeling that now had settled in his heart at the memory of you. 

Your sudden disappearance only fueled his anger towards you, but mostly towards himself, so by the time the day was over for him, he drove to your house. He decided to confront you. 

All the way, he had been practicing the speech he was going to give you, the words he was going to say, and the possible reactions you could have. However, when he knocked at your door and you opened it, he was taken by surprise. You looked absolutely miserable. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess, and you were sniffling, clearly sick.

His anger immediately dissipated at your image, replaced by concern. 

“How do you know where I live?” you asked slowly, whispering. 

He thought it was funny that your first concern was him being here.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern in his tone. 

You gave a weak nod. "Just a stupid cold."

Joel's anger had melted away the moment he saw you in such a vulnerable state. Without another word, he stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him. 

He walked over to you, his expression softening as he took in your appearance. "You should be resting," he said softly, studying all your face. 

“It was what I was doing until an idiot knocked on my door.” You managed a faint smile.

Joel chuckled and told you to sit, then he went to the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets to find some tea to ease your misery. He quickly brewed a cup of hot tea and brought it to you along with some medicine he found on the counter. 

Sitting down beside you, he handed you the warm mug. "Here, drink this. It should help."

You rolled your eyes at him, taking the tea, sipping it, feeling the soothing warmth spreading through your body. Joel watched over you, concerned because you were not the girl full of life he had gotten used to for the last weeks. He checked your forehead with the back of his hand, checking your temperature. It was a simple gesture, but deep down he knew he had started to care about you. 

As you leaned back on the couch, feeling the effects of the tea and the medicine, you couldn't help but thank Joel’s presence next to you that you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder and his heart melted in his chest.

Seeing that he had grown tired from the effects of the tea and medicine, Joel carefully set the empty mug aside. He couldn't help but smile softly as he watched you drift off to sleep, your head resting on his shoulder. At that vulnerable moment, you seemed so delicate and different from the annoying person he thought you were, a picture he had created of you by himself, far from the truth. You were actually nice, caring, and the person with the biggest heart he had ever known. 

Gently, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you as he stood up from the couch. Your head nestled against his chest, and he could feel the rise and fall of your breath, steady. Without a word, he carried you to your bedroom, careful not to wake you.

As he laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over you, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze tracing the lines of your face. It was a rare sight, seeing you so peaceful and vulnerable, and it tugged at something deep within him.

Joel knew he should leave and let you rest, even when he didn’t want to, but as he turned to go, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Joel, don't go," you murmured, your eyes fluttering open slightly.

You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Please, just stay."

That was all he needed to stay. He carefully climbed into the bed beside you, making sure to maintain a respectful distance, but you shifted closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his body. The two of you lay there in silence, your breathing gradually synchronizing in the silence of the room. Joel watched over you, a rush of emotion ran through his body and he made himself feel comfortable against you. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, Miller. Remember, we can’t fall in love” you whispered as you snuggled on his chest.

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your whispered remark, even as his heart skipped a beat at the intimacy of the moment.

"I’m doing my best to keep that promise," he murmured in reply, not feeling sure of that promise anymore. 

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep as well. The warmth of your body against him lulled him into the best sleep he had had in years. 

At that moment, there was no fake relationship, not pretending, but just two people resting in each other’s arms.

The next day, after a restful night of sleep, you woke up feeling better, better enough to go back to work. You decided to start again, putting aside the last argument with Joel and focusing on your own job. Besides, after last night, you were grateful for Joel and you couldn’t find yourself mad at him anymore. So, the first thing you did was arrange a bouquet of flowers for Joel and go to his gallery, making your way to his office. There wasn’t a signal of Joel, so you placed the cup of coffee on his desk, along with the bouquet, and some pastries, and left a note: 

I know you hate flowers, but thanks for last night, I feel better because of you.

Then, you returned to your flower shop, hoping the note would make him smile. 

The rest of the day passed by in a blur with you arranging flowers and serving customers as usual, and even when you kept yourself busy, your mind occasionally drifted back to Joel, anticipating his reaction to the flowers, and just as you were arranging a bouquet of sunflowers, your phone chimed, interrupting your thoughts. 

Joel

Thanks for the coffee and the pastries, I’m happy you’re better, bee.

By the way, I don’t hate flowers anymore.

You smiled at that, leaving the message unanswered.

As night fell, you noticed Joel was still working in the gallery. So, you decided to pay him a visit.

When you arrived, the gallery was dimly lit, with the soft glow of lights illuminating the pieces of art displayed inside. You spotted Joel in the studio, focused on adjusting the lighting to highlight the details of the paint he was currently working on. Looking at him, this focus gave you a moment to appreciate his dedication and his own features under the cast light. You have never seen him this way, so focused as he smoked out the air of the cigarette between his lips. 

He didn’t notice your presence until you approached inside the studio. Joel looked up from his work and his eyes met yours. Surprise flickered across his face as he took in your figure in front of him. The corner of his lips curled into a small smile.

"Bee," he said, setting down his brush and walking over to you. "I didn't expect to see you here."

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of ease wash over you in his presence. "You left early this morning, so I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."

“I wanted to let you sleep.”

You shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips “Well, your plan didn’t work.”

Your eyes shifted from him to his work. He was painting a portrait of a woman. You took a moment to admire the painting, intrigued by the way Joel's work, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized the woman in the painting was you.

"Joel," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "Is this... me?"

"Yes, it's you." He said as you stepped forward in front of him. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the portrait. It made you feel beautiful.

"Why?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

You felt Joel stepping closer from behind you, as you kept admiring the canvas. He took another step closer, and his hand gently cupped your waist, “Well- “he cleared his throat. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air. The gallery around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in a color you had searched for years.

As you felt his presence linger, you were able to cast a glance at him over your shoulder. Not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes not leaving yours. 

“Bee” he leaned closer to you, whispering smoothly in your ear, as his chest brushed your back. 

You had been getting closer in the last weeks, but this moment was different and intense, and it was making your heart beat hard against your chest.

You tried not to be affected by the closeness, you were trying really hard, but everything around you was slipping away and Joel was the only clear thought you had in your mind. It was like you were under a spell.

He learned, leaving small kisses on your neck, as his hand travelled down the curve of one of your hips, gripping your skin all over the material of your clothes. He whispered your name against your skin, leaving goosebumps traced on it. 

“Can I kiss you for real this time?” He whispered lustily.

You turned to face him, and his hands held your waist, your widened eyes locked with his, feeling a magnetic pull, a connection without boundaries, when the false reality you had created blurred, and all that mattered was the feelings pulling both of you closer right now.

As he stood there, in front of his own piece of art, his lips dropped down to your mouth, already devouring it with his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel wanted under his stare.

You didn’t react at first, his mouth took your lips in his and he properly kissed you for the first time, because this kiss was real, one you both wanted. His hands grabbed your waist and held you against him as if his life depended on it.  

Kissing Joel for real felt like driving in a dead-end street, like crushing your bones against the waves of the sea just to be brought back to life. And he also felt like the sun at the end of summer burning deep down your legs being carried out by passion and desire. 

A gasp escaped from your throat, Joel’s mouth moving over yours in slow motion, savoring the taste of your lips to never forget it again. Your kisses felt like eating the sweetest fruit in summer. 

He gently pushed you against the wall as your legs spread, giving him closer access to you. As the kiss deepened, the feeling wasn’t just magical, but it was hot, with his tongue against yours. There wasn’t a proper way to get closer, but you wanted him closer, you wanted to feel him on top of you. 

Joel slowly detached his lips from yours, looking flustered at the intensity of the kiss you had just shared.

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You quickly nodded, as you traced your hands on his hair down to his neck and rapidly connected your lips with him. This time it was even hotter, now there was desperation in the touch.

The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the sound of small whines slipping from your lips as he travelled his way down your neck with his lips, you felt like his own canvas being delicately traced by his lips brushing over your skin, planting tattooed kisses on his way.

He was capturing every second of this in his mind, the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin, and the sound falling out from your lips, as he didn't stop taking every visible inch of your skin in his mouth. Every touch sent shivers straight down where you wanted him the most.

A slow moan escaped from your lips as he hit the hot skin of your neck.

"Everything's f-"

You shut him down by furiously attaching his lips back to yours. His hand left the back of your neck, travelling down your chest as he remembered how every inch of your body felt under his touch and he smiled against your lips. The ache between your tights intensified at that, all while his hand pushed under your skirt and brushed where you wanted to be touched the most.

"Oh" you breathed.

Joel stopped kissing you for a moment to look at you, and he had a small smirk on his lips because he knew what he was doing. Leading not only by the desire but because of the mixed feelings he had for you.

“I’ve been really,” he kissed you “loving” He kissed you again “spending time with you”

And at that moment, breathing heavily against each other's faces, he kissed you again, and this time he went for it. He grabbed your bottom lip between his teeth as his hand rose higher on your tight. 

He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer in a quick motion, your hand on your back holding your tight. You fell against his chest, falling apart under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed against you with a crazy need. 

Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears when he kept caressing every inch of you, making you spin. His palm smoothed over the curve of your waist down to your bum and gripped it tightly, moving you even closer to him.

You let out a whine at that, and one your legs was pulling him on hold, kissing down his neck. You could feel him clenching under you. 

He let out a groan, while you moved your hand along his chest down to his jeans, his own hand leaving your body to grasp your hold against him. He groaned low against you. 

He stopped kissing you to meet your eyes briefly.

“I want you,” he said, capturing your lips as his teeth grabbed your bottom lip and his hand cupped the side of your face. 

“You can have me” you whispered, resting your forehead on his.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse, your hands working on his jeans, and planted kisses on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between you two, as you wrapped your hand around him.

He lifted you with force as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your back to the wall. His hands on your hips to hold you right there. The air in your lungs was trapped in a bubble of incredible pleasure, but it still found a way to escape in rushed moans against his mouth as you both kept devouring each other. 

He groaned against your mouth, lips parting, unable to utter other things instead of whimpers that drove you absolutely crazy.

Just as you were almost crossing the line of the agreement you made. A voice calling his name suddenly ruined the moment. He pulled away with a reluctant sigh, his eyes still locked with yours.

Fuck.

"Joel!" Tommy's voice echoed through the gallery, and you both turned to see his brother approaching.

Joel cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, pulling you down carefully and fixing his jeans rapidly though his eyes still lingered on you.

 "Tommy, what are you doing here?" he asked, leaving the studio.

Tommy chuckled, his grin widening. "Well, you told me to pick you over tonight.” 

Joel blinked, momentarily confused by his brother's words. Then the realization dawned on him.

“You forgot? Because- Bee?” he asked in disbelief once he spotted you hiding behind the door of Joel’s studio in the gallery. 

You stepped out from behind the door, feeling a bit awkward and ashamed. "Hi, Tommy.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye “What are you doing here?

You struggled to find words to explain your presence at the gallery at 09:00 p.m. “I just thought I’d stop by to help Joel.”

“With your mouth?” he asked you.

Joel shot his brother a warning look, but Tommy just grinned wider. “I’m sorry but your unbuttoned jeans and the messy hair speak louder.” 

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked away, suddenly self-conscious under Tommy's teasing gaze.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tommy, can we talk about this later?"

Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the back. "Sure, sure. I'll let you two get back to your... art appreciation."

With a final wink in your direction, Tommy made his exit, leaving you and Joel alone.

“By the way, you’re are getting pretty good at pretending,” he shouted for the last time. 

“I guess he is right,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Joel nodded, but there was a contemplative look in his eyes. "I wasn’t pretending.”

There was a moment of silence between you two, the unspoken tension from earlier still lingering in the air. 

Joel's words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What do you mean?"

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. " I care about you, Bee” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission. He couldn’t believe he had just confessed something he only thought was in his mind and it left you both surprised. 

After two days, both Joel and you were in a game of changing minds with none of you wanting to face each other after the events of the other night, when you almost crossed the line of pretending while tracing shades of love you didn’t want to admit. And if you face each other, your armor could fall again, and neither of you wanted that. 

But you couldn’t stop replying to his words in your mind, wondering if he had truly meant them or if it was just a slip of the passionate moment that felt like a sin.

As evening descended two days later, you found yourself at the gallery once again. Contemplating your options. Going inside and falling into his language that made gravity fall too much or going back to your home and pretending Joel wasn’t your Achilles heel.

This time, you went for the first option, and the same soft glow of light was illuminating the space like the other night. However, this time it wasn’t the same. Joel was standing next to one of the art pieces, sharing a laugh with Lauren. They seemed to share a really good moment, with genuine smiles displaying on his faces, and it was clear that you had interrupted a moment between them.

Your heart sank at the picture. Just imagine bringing women to his gallery to fuck them in his studio was something casual for him. 

You hesitated, before making up your mind and leaving, but your footsteps must have caught their attention because Joel's gaze locked onto yours, and he quickly excused himself from the conversation with Lauren. Lauren turned to look at you, her expression unreadable.

Joel approached you with a concerned look. "Bee? What are you doing here?"

You couldn't hide the hurt in your voice as you replied, "I came here to talk to you, Joel, but I bet you’re busy”

You felt a surge of disappointment and Lauren's presence behind only added fuel to the fire of your own humiliation.

“It’s not what-

“Joel? Are you ready for dinner?” Lauren's voice interrupted the moment, and you turned to see her looking at you both with a faint smile.

You couldn't help but feel like an intruder, and the conversation you and Lauren had the other day made sense. After all, they had a bond that couldn’t be broken. 

 "I'll... I'll leave you two to your plans." You whispered, with a heavy heart.

Without waiting for their response, you turned and made your way out of the gallery, the heavy weight of uncertainty settling in your chest. As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, you couldn't help but feel like you had let Joel play with your feelings.

You knew that the arrangement between you and Joel was built on a foundation of pretense, but recent events had blurred the lines on that. Before you could gather your thoughts, you heard the door to the gallery swing open behind you, and you turned to see Joel rushing out. His expression was a mix of concern and desperation as he called out to you.

"Bee, wait! Please, let me explain," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he closed the distance between you.

You weren't ready to hear his explanations, not now. You took a step back, your voice laced with hurt as you replied, "Joel, I don't want to hear it right now”

Joel's face contorted with regret, and he reached out to gently touch your arm, his voice filled with sincerity. "It's not what you think, Bee.”

But your heart was too wounded, and you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "Stop playing with fire, Joel”

Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving Joel standing there, watching you go with a heavy heart.

Deep down on your thinking your phone vibrated, it was Conell,

Conell

Hey, are you free for dinner with me?

You considered Conell's invitation for a moment, after all you could use some distraction from all things running through your head.

You

Sure, is everything alright?

Conell

I'll tell you when we meet. Let's say 9:00? I’ll pick you up.

After confirming the time, you put your phone back in your pocket and watched Joel and Lauren making their way to his car. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy settle into your body. Their interaction seemed natural, so familiar, and you wonder if this is how he had felt about her at the beginning of their relationship. 

Joel opened the car door for Lauren, and as she got in, their laughter echoed through the quiet evening. They seemed at ease with each other, and it made you wonder if all that Joel and you had shared for the past weeks was insignificant. 

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you made your way to your car to arrive home and get ready for your dinner with Connell. Not without shooting a last glance back at Joel before getting into your car, his eyes briefly met yours, and there was a moment of unspoken language in his gaze as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Then, he got into his car and drove away with Lauren by his side. 

Your heart felt heavy after they left. A weight of uncertain feelings was running, making yourself questioning what was happening to you. Shaking your head to clear away the doubts, you started your car, drove home, and got ready for your dinner with Connell. 

As you entered your house and prepared for dinner, you couldn't escape the thoughts of Joel in your mind. It was like he was hunting your brain and your heart and you swore that wasn’t going to happen. You even thought of canceling on Connell but he seemed to want to talk to you about something really important, so you ended up choosing an elegant but simple outfit, doing your best to ignore the pictures of that damn artist in your head. 

When Connell arrived to pick you up, he greeted you with his familiar smile and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Some time ago, that small gesture would make your heart skip a beat, but now you didn't know what was happening.

Both of you arrived at a cozy but elegant restaurant and sat down for dinner. You both caught up in each other's lives, sharing stories of the time you had spent apart.

His career as a doctor and how your life has been going since you parted ways. 

Being with him felt so comfortable and familiar that you even forgot about the mess you had in your life going on in your life right now. The way he threw his head back laughing at your jokes and how you always thought of him as your safe place and person, now brought back to you. 

But as the night passed, Connell's demeanor changed and he took a deep breath before speaking. "There's something I need to tell you."

You looked at him, your curiosity piqued. "What’s wrong?”

He reached across the table and took your hand in his. "I came back not just for a job offer but because... I came back for you”

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. "For me?"

Connell nodded; his eyes locked with yours. "No matter where I go or what I do, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you, and I want us to have a second chance."

You were taken aback by his confession. The past had been complicated, but the idea of rekindling your relationship with Connell was both exciting and frightening. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts.

After all, you were single and you could end the stupid agreement with Joel and he could go back to Lauren and be the family they were meant to be, and you could simply ignore how your heart felt at that. 

Connell’s voice broke your thoughts and he was looking at you with his blue eyes filled with sincerity. "I have an opportunity in London, and I want you to come with me.”

a/n: btw I only picture Connell as Paul Mescal and it may be because he played Connell on normal people haha.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3

[chipchopclipclop]

i just started rewatching soul eater for the first time since i was 15 and Stein is so much more interesting to me than he was then... what are ur soul eater thoughts chip if youre willing to share

i did not experience soul eater as a wee youth, the first time i watched (and then read it) was 4 years ago (give or take) so i do not have the beautifully tinged nostalgia for the series others might. i say this only bc it colours my thoughts of the series pretty well lmao.

the anime is alot better than the manga just by virture of bones' animation being incredible but also its like 40% less painfully fucking horny (though still is its shounen) and the way some of that plot goes in the second half is so fucking bad in the manga (though not all, but god). It's not like the anime gets rid of everything like that stupid ass argument black star has with maka still makes me want to murder him but ultimately i like the anime and its writing more. i think my minds canon is just a meld of parts i like from both lol.

ohkubo is also just on my top ten list of mangaka i need to actually kill like hes a solid #3 on the needs to die list. his designs and art improvement were fun to watch and i do love halloween world and his toony stuff, undeniably bangs, but you can really tell by the end where his transformation into horny moe artist came from. sometimes i see people shocked by this and soul eater not's existence and i have to think did we read the same fucking manga...??

sorry i needed to get my bitching out before talking about stein. i love stein. so many things wrong with him. he is 70% of the reason i got around to watching it and 95% of the reason i kept reading it. i think how expressive he is is alot of his charm, like he does alot of moe body language you might not expect of his type of chara.

hes #crazy and #madscientist and #edgy and #insaneasylum but also very silly and whimsical... kind of emblematic of the world of soul eater at large actually, this is also alot of the other characters appeal in this universe too (DEATH THE KID).

he's obsessive, hes empathetic, hes also sadistic, hes got a screw in his head, megane, fun with kids, perfect man. hes also got both an equal capacity for getting worse and better in him which can be fun to think about in either direction, and you've got characters that do influence him either way for that in the series. im also kind of remembering clicking the screw in his head is to help somewhat deal with his mental state actually, king of the disability aid...(?)

you can treat his character very seriously or lightheartedly, i think the writing in both versions maintains that balance well. It also makes everyone else who actually sticks around him somewhat deranged too (the fact he did surgery on spirit at school but spirit still interacts like pretty normally at work with him after meeting again. lmfao. THEY WENT DRINKING TOO) the fact he still calls spirit senpai also is so funny. its like 40% a dig at him but also 60% genuine. i hate gay people btw.

i like the thought that he was more stoic when he was younger but as he got older stopped trying to hide his eccentricities as much, and became more expressive lol. younger stein to me is a guy screaming in his head 247 but looking like 😐 while spirit stares at him trying to decipher what his eyelid twitching today means.

[heart4gyu]

just for show pt.2 || mc!heeseung x ‪mc‬!reader

PT.1 || PT.3 || note: i honestly didn’t know where i wanted the story to go so let me know your thoughts guys! it rly motivates me when you guys have something to say abt my writing… i think i like it & ofc this definitely leaves room for a pt.3 (lmk ??) hope you guys enjoy tho ^_^!

the longer you thought about it the more you realized it really wasn’t heeseung’s fault. it wasn’t his fault that everyone did react so well to everything the two of you did. and it wasn’t his fault that you caught yourself falling for his kindness.

you weren’t in love with him or anything, so why was the thought of his possible rejection so… heartbreaking. maybe it was the embarrassment of falling for someone who just wanted to be your friend.

you didn’t know why you felt so conflicted but this was your job and you were going to do your best at it no matter what. when you got home that night, you told yourself that you’d keep your relationship with heeseung professional. even if the friendship that was growing between you was one of the most genuine you’ve had in a while.

the next day, you and your manager were the first to show up from both of your teams. you both sat and talked while you waited, and she mentioned that you and heeseung were invited to host at an upcoming award show.

she told you that you didn’t have to make your decision right away. of course, you told her about what happened so she wanted to make sure you knew the choice was yours. but you both knew that declining the offer with no valid reason wouldn’t look right.

“it’s okay, you can tell them that i accept,” you said, looking down at your hands.

“then congratulations on your first gig as an award show host,” she said, leaning in to place a hand over yours. you looked up and she gave you a cheerful nod.

“well we don’t know if it’s certain yet,” you replied with a small chuckle, still nodding back as a thanks.

“no it is, heeseung accepted right away yesterday,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you, making you roll your eyes at her.

“thanks for keeping it professional,” you said, and you both shared a laugh before the conversation, thankfully, switched to another topic.

after some time had passed, you decided to grab something to eat from the breakfast table that was set for the mcs and artists. you filled up a small bowl with some fruits and a small croissant.

“y/n?” you heard from behind you. you knew that voice well, so you took a deep breath before responding.

“good morning, heeseung,” you replied, suddenly very interested in which fork you should choose.

“uh… would you like a drink? we picked some up at the cafe on the way here,” he offered, with only one cup in his hand. you looked down at it then back up at him.

“oh that’s nice of you but i don’t really like coffee,” you said, trying to move around him but he stepped in front of you again.

“i- i know you don’t. it’s tea actually, the way you ordered it last time,” he said abruptly, a slight blush appearing high on his cheeks.

you let out a small sigh as you took the cup in your empty hand and he gave you a small smile. he almost looked relieved as he took a small step back. he didn’t move more than that though and he looked like he wanted to say more. the silence was beginning to get a bit too awkward for you though.

“thank you. uh… i’ll go first then,” you said, returning the small smile. you brushed past him lightly but you could feel him watching you all the way out of the room. your face felt like it was on fire by the time you stepped into the dressing room.

how could you even think about getting over your feelings when he made you react like this? he only looked at you, you barely brushed past him, he remembered your drink order… but that didn’t mean anything. maybe his manager wrote it down or something.

you forced yourself to forget about it as your team did your hair and makeup. you usually sat by heeseung for this part but when he came in you were already finished and making your way to put your interview outfit on.

heeseung knew you were avoiding him. the next time he saw you you were already on the set reading over your lines, which you usually did in the dressing room together.

“hey, y/n, can we talk for a second?” he asked as he approached the small stage.

“i think we’ll be getting started any moment now so… maybe later,” you said, knowing you’d be leaving the second your segments were recorded.

a minute passed before the director walked in and started giving orders to everyone. then the lights and cameras were on, mics were being handed out, and you both were putting on the perfect show that everyone loved.

you smiled and laughed at heeseung the way you always did. for a second he forgot that you no longer wanted anything to do with him. he found himself paying attention to every single movement you made. the way you placed your hand on his arm, the way your cheeks rose when he made a joke, how your eyes sparkled under the bright lights as you watched him talk.

he wasn’t sure why your conversation the other day bothered him so much. he wanted to clear up the confusion more than anything but he didn’t know what that was in the first place. why were you suddenly so upset at him? the reason didn’t matter just the thought of you being hurt by him made him so mad at himself.

he was pulled out of his thoughts when a couple of the lights turned off and the director was making the call for a break. when he looked back down to where you were stood beside him you were already gone. he needed to talk to you. it’s all that he could think about since the other day.

you had ran off to the dressing room to touch up your own makeup. well, really you just wanted any excuse to be on your own and away from heeseung of course. but as if you summoned him yourself, there he was walking through the door.

“oh, there you are,” he said, his eyes lighting up when they came in contact with yours in the mirror. you didn’t say anything just finished applying some gloss to your lips. you quickly tried to make your way out of the room but he stood blocking the door.

“can we talk, please?” he asked. you took a step back when you looked up and his eyes were doing all the begging for him. then took another step back when he moved closer, eyes still not breaking away from yours.

“there’s nothing to talk about, heeseung,” you said, shaking your head and looking anywhere but his eyes. before you knew it he had walked you all the way back to the vanity. you let out a gasp as the makeup shook from how abruptly you hit the table.

“then why are you avoiding me?” he said, head leaned down to try and look you in the eyes. as if the answers he searched for would be found in them.

“i’m not! and we were great on the show like always so there’s no problem,” you replied, wanting nothing more than to be out of this room.

“i’m not stupid and you know that’s not what i meant,” he said, speaking quieter the closer he got to you. your bodies weren’t touching but the proximity still made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. “just tell me what i did wrong.”

“you didn’t do anything wrong! and there’s no more discussion! so let’s just go back out there and do exactly what we were doing before,“ you replied, finally gaining some confidence and looking up to meet his gaze. “everything is for the audience, for the show anyway.”

he looked you in your eyes, so intensely you wanted so badly to break the eye contact but you couldn’t let yourself back down now. the corner of his lip lifted so slightly you almost missed it and he looked down to see your hand gripping the edge of the table.

“everything just for the show,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if he was asking. he leaned just a bit closer as he placed his hands behind yours on the table, your noses practically touching now.

it took everything in you to not let your chest rise and fall so obviously hard and for you not to close the gap despite the tension that you knew he could feel too. why was he doing this? you couldn’t let him win. something switched in your mind now because all you wanted was for him to feel what you felt.

“just like you said,” you replied, placing a hand on his chest to hold him in place. you raised your head and your lips were so close it felt like they were magnets attracted to each other. but you didn’t move any closer, all you did was stare up into his eyes. you shifted your eyes down from his eyes to his lips once… twice… then you felt it.

you could feel his heart beating hard and fast in his chest, and that’s all you needed. all you wanted to know before you pushed him away. he let out a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding in, as he took a step back of his own.

“our break is over soon. why don’t we save some of the theatrics for the cameras,” you said, as you walked away knowing you successfully gave him a taste of his own medicine. he wasn’t the only that could make someone fall for him.

[luckyarchivist]

Touchstarved LIs and Fanfiction AUs They Should Be In

Haven't been able to stop thinking about the people who said Ais is "always the tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop AU". I don't even like tattoo shop/flower shop like that but it was such a correct thing to say and I have to acknowledge that. So here's that plus AUs I've seen that I think the LIs should be in.

Ais

Flower shop/tattoo shop, as mentioned. This one is TOO good. Come ON. Ais as the hot-ass owner of the local tattoo shop? Him listening to your idea for a tattoo and then smoothly and easily inking it into your skin and telling you you're good when you don't cry? I don't even need to explain this one. It makes sense in like every way.

NASCAR/Formula One AU. The idea of him getting out of that car sweaty as hell in the full racing suit after crushing a track record? Like, taking off the helmet and shaking his hair out and looking like he couldn't give less of a shit about winning first place? Yeah. I am not immune to vroom vroom

Mermaid AU but he's a bull shark or an octopus, not a fish. IDK if I want his claspers or his tentacles more, but either way he should be lurking in the briny deep and protecting me from the real ocean monsters and threatening to eat me even though he probably doesn't mean it, probably.

Vere

Magic/Witches AU. - C'monnnn, he's already so witchy! He's got the sleeves and everything. And yes I know TS already has magic in it, but you know what I mean. He, like, lives in the spooky forest and the people of the village are deathly afraid of him, but you need his magical help, so against the wishes of family and friends you seek him out. And he forces you through a series of dangerous illusions as a trial and, when you successfully pass them, finally agrees to help you for a price...

Royalty AU as either the capricious king of a powerful nation or that king's advisor, formal or informal (smart concubine). I've never seen Game of Thrones but that kind of castle politics, shadowy backstabbing shit seems right up his alley.

Modern AU as an artist: I already talked about this with Vere as an artist and game dev, but I think it'd be so funny if Vere was just sitting in a coffee shop (local, Starbucks is below him) trying to finish his commissions in peace because his roommate(s) are annoying and/or distracting. Honestly, Vere would also rock as a modern AU witch, like urban fantasy type.

Leander

Barista/Bartender AU. He's so extroverted and congenial I have to put him in a drink service AU. He definitely has a "time to mix drinks and save lives" type of work ethic behind the counter. He remembers regular customers and their drink orders, he is LIBERAL with discounts, and he leaves little notes to the people he thinks are cute.

Serial killer AU. I am so basic and even though I have no desire to watch or listen to true crime now, I was raised on the Investigation Discovery Channel and I've never lost that. Look at his fucking face. He's asking for it to be covered in blood. Even better if this is combined with the above AU and he's a sweet server by day and a ruthless murderer by night but he keeps the same wide, pleasant, and genuine smile on because both things are things he loves to do. Even BETTER if he has an obsession with one of his regulars and starts killing people around them in an attempt to get closer with them.

Theatre AU. Siiiighs. Yeah, I'm a theatre kid. And I just know this guy would be one of those actors who wants to be a mentor/older brother figure for any new troupe-members. He's walking you through all the vocal warmups. He's offering to help you run lines. He's driving you home after rehearsals. He is a triple threat, but he doesn't prefer musicals because he doesn't like singing in front of an audience (even though he's an amazing singer). And I just know props absolutely hates him because he keeps touching shit that isn't his.

Kuras

Hospital AU and Angels/Demons AU is too easy. Instead, I'm giving him the flower shop owner in flower shop/tattoo shop AU. Anyone here like KurAis? Anyways, I think it would be sweet to have him be the super-tall, kind but a little awkward and very knowledgeable owner of a flower shop. He probably enjoys crafting bouquets that have meaning in flower language. And yes, he knows about the nice meanings and the rude meanings, so you can get a "fuck you" bouquet from Kuras.

Detroit Become Human AU as an android. I barely remember D:BH but it was one of the first things that occurred to me when thinking about AUs for Kuras. Maybe because he'd be the kind of android who was like, "Don't worry, I'm not a real person, it's okay if I get shot repeatedly," and wouldn't understand why someone would be concerned about him anyways.

Elementary school teacher/single parent AU but I don't know if I want him to be the teacher or the parent. Do I want him to look after a group of children, making efforts to understand their silly little words and communicate with them so they learn and feel cared for? Or do I want him to be the struggling single parent who is so happy to see their child finally getting the attention they deserve outside the house? IDK, but I'd be happy either way.

Mhin

Superhero AU. They're kinda already halfway to superhero gear with the hood and the cape and the tight pants, but I think it be cool for them to dart from rooftop to rooftop, saving civilians and fighting crime. IDK if it'd be cooler if they were half-hero half-villain (controlled by their bird-monster side and wreaking havoc) or if it'd just be nice to have a crow hero motif. Anyway they save me and I'm a reporter who uses my reporter contacts to try and track them down not knowing they're actually my upstairs neighbor who I bring shepherd's pie and strawberry cupcakes to sometimes.

The other tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop. You know how there's always some other character working in one or both of the shops? Ayeah that's Mhin. Number one, I think it'd be hot if they had tattoos. But even if they don't they're still hot when they give the tattoo because focus and skill are attractive. They're talented enough that Ais keeps them around even though they hate him. They never talk to him even though he's their boss. Over the course of the fic Mhin and Ais get closer b/c Kuras is friends with both of them and he wants them to like each other.

Angel/Demon AU as an angel because I want them to be corrupted :) I want them to be forced to submit to their own worst impulses :) and eventually realize that being evil makes them feel good and more importantly liberated and in control :) also maybe they can get wrecked by a demon please :)

Aaaand the DLC cast gets one as a treat!

Sen

Pacific Rim AU but PLEASE don't ask me why. I don't even REMEMBER Pacific Rim. But the clarity with which I could imagine Sen in a Pacific Rim AU is startling. She's gruff and she doesn't want to partner up with you, a rookie, but somehow you have perfect chemistry in the mech she doesn't want to acknowledge. She's too reckless out of disregard for her life, and you reel her in; you're inexperienced, and she fixes your mistakes. Then one day she starts to notice that she's guarding her own life more fiercely than ever before...because of you.

If that's not what Pacific Rim is about shhhh don't correct me /j

Elyon

Easy answer is pornstar/industry AU or camming AU but I'll never take the easy way out. And I know we don't know shit about the guy but I think reincarnation AU would kinda hit with him. His promo talks about wanting things money can't buy? Like possibly the ability to save his soulmate from dying and forgetting him over and over while he retains the memories of every life they've both shared and lived separately, as friends, lovers, enemies, and strangers? That would go hard imo.

If you read all of that, thanks! I hope you enjoyed~