#Great Sand Hills

[abirddogmoment]

Wandering in the dunes

[revenantghost]

The fact that they chose to make Vash love salmon sandwiches on a desert planet only naturally inhabited by worms is the best gag none of the characters call attention to

[csny]

the beautiys of illinois

majestic waterfalls of the north fork of the chicago river

the perilous scraggly peaks of rockford

city state of chicago, viewed from the placid waters of lake michigan

illinois beach state park sand dunes

the joyously colorful rolling hills of terre haute

shawnee national forest

lower wacker drive

the state’s great capital, springfield

the rambling eastern border along the mississippi river

paul bunyan statue

[inknopewetrust]

𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠

When the Emperor summons you, you always answer the call. [Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader] [wc: 3.38k]

Warnings: minors DNI, smut, 18+, slight exhibition kink, pinv sex, unprotected sex (this is Ancient Rome, whores), Geta be a little submissive and possessive, corruption, dirty talk. I do not take responsibility for satan causing me to write this.

When you were summoned to the coliseum after dark, there was no questioning what be the cause.

The corridors of the great arena were near silent; distant growls and scratching claws filled its catacombs with a crawling anticipation: when the Emperor called, world at his feet quieted to hear his presence. Feeling the sands of the stage shift and meet the seats of the empty audience, there was nothing but the moonlight and wind to greet you.

You were not alone in Rome’s greatest achievement. The ghosts of the gladiators watched over the wicked as they fed off the suffering of the poor.

But when the guard left you to your devices upon the imperial seat looking over the arena, you forgot the evil that took over the man who called.

“It is quite the sight, no?”

In the silence of the amphitheater Geta’s words were quiet yet threatened to bounce off in echos. You ran your hands over the marble ledge. It’s once smooth nature lifting in bumps every inch of the glide your hand made. A gust of wind fluttered the fabric of your chiton to dance around your legs.

Geta dismissed his most loyal guard at the sight of you.

“It is different in the light,” you answered. The sand below you was not stained of blood and there was no chanting of what the Gods would decide of fate. “Peaceful… if I dare say.”

“If you were not to speak freely I would not have let my men go.”

“So there is no fear to be had here?” You turned your head over your shoulder. Barely capturing him in your vision, Emperor Geta leaned against his brother’s seat. The edge of the stone resting his body as his eyes traced you against the backdrop of his arena.

“There is no one to fear, my lady,” he spoke.

Emperor Geta was a man you had known for a long while. As children he often sought you out as a companion of play while his father helped prime himself and his brother, Caracalla, for their ascent to the throne. You, on the outskirts of royalty within a wealthy family of semi-relevant status to the Caesar, were allowed in their court as a potential wife.

The status of wife never came but it did not stop Geta from perusing you into adulthood.

It was on nights like these when the clouds floated to cover the moon and the poor laid soundly on the gravel on the outset of the building that Geta felt a need to see you, to have you for himself before the reality of morning came tumbling upon him. Weakened by his thoughts of want and bruised from a victory turned sour, his eyes shimmered in the darkness while the necessity grew.

But you knew the intent.

The one guard, never different from the last, summoning you from your villa with a coded message of: vi et animo, with heart and soul. Descend upon the place where he shall be waiting and when the act is done, as always, the same guard would see you home and little would be said between the next occasion. An invitation to sit behind him at a fight always went unanswered; the feasts in a Senator’s name would go uneaten.

You always had something to fear when a man, whom you had grown to be so utterly conflicted in lust and hatred, reigned unfairness from his palace on top a hill. The shining city of Rome was not what it once was but Geta cared for nothing except what he wanted.

And while you never accepted the invitations beyond these, the jewels around your neck, the ones that hung from your ears, and the pulsing of your heart spoke wonders for the truth within you.

Geta watched as your head turned back around and your hands curled over the balcony’s edge. His fingers rapped against the back of the chair; rings clashing against the golden adornments at the bristle of your objection.

“What summons me here?” You prompted. “Are the others not enough for you? Do they not fill your cup on nights as brutal as these?”

You were not to call the women he sought whores. They made their choices, or, they had none, but their actions did not relegate themselves to lesser. How were you any better than them? With your gold and your home and your money? You believed yourself, on the worst of nights, to be a wealthier version of what they had been subject to but unlike many of them, you let this linger beyond the reasonable time.

“I wish to think you know better than to question the call of your Emperor. You showed, after all.”

“I do not question your wants… what keeps you ticking,” you turned to rest your back away from the arena. Geta admired the wrap of your gown tightening against the stone. “You should be celebrating the conquering. Rome has just expanded. There is a celebration at the palace and yet you are here amongst the prisoners and the animals.”

“And you,” he looked pointedly.

Geta’s makeup was gone from the day. He wore a tunic of red and white with the golden laurels weaved in its fabric. The orange of his hair had gone muted in the dark.

“And me,” you agreed. “You have me here, Caesar—“

“Geta.”

You eyed him.

“Why are you playing a game tonight? You denied my invitation—“

“It is not my place,” you cut in. “I am no wife, I am not a… woman of a man’s delight. I did not wish to be an object on an arm.”

“I could have your head for such an implication,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t,” you affirmed. “No one else would be dragged here to kneel before you so willingly.”

“You want to be on your knees?”

You shook your head at him with a tick. No one would dare to speak to him like you. But you knew it bothered him in ways he couldn’t manifest. The blood rushing through his body—you challenged him in a way only he would allow you.

Geta removed his arm from the back of the seat and stepped down to you. Each step closer and closer until he came to rest directly in front of you and caged you like the animals below. Arms expanding on either side of you; his breath invading your space as his nose nicked yours. You shuddered; back piercing into the travertine not in fear but anticipation.

To be the lover of a corrupted Emperor… you had him in the palm of your hand.

“You speak so freely,” he hissed. “And yet you tremble in my presence.”

In an instant, your breathing had gone staggered. His hands drew into you. Feeling up the sides of your body as he pushed himself on you.

“The tremble is not you. It’s me.”

“I am the only one to make you feel this way, yes?”

His hands roamed freely. Geta’s thumbs rumbled up the fabric of the front of your body while his fingertips hardened against you. The plushness of your skin was melting to him. His nose tipped against your chin to turn your head upwards.

“Your Emperor asked you a question.”

“If I said no,” you breathed in as his fingers groped harder. They cupped your breasts from above and back down again. “What would become of me?”

“I’d lock you away,” he wouldn’t. “I’d see to you myself in the cells below the palace. You’d wear nothing,” you scoffed and his lip quirked up. You could feel his lips change against the column of your neck. “And when people would ask of you, they would not be allowed to see you.”

“So you would not want them to see us like this?”

He let out a low, bemused chuckle. “This is for me, us, to enjoy. But if you imagine the whole of Rome watching us, then please, my dear, listen to them.”

Geta rose his lips to your ear as his hands fell to your hips and then one of your legs. He maneuvered to grip the back of one of your thighs and opened up space for him to fall further into you. You could feel his excitement; the prodding of his want against your clothed self. His hot breath and lips danced across your cheek.

“Can you hear them? Gasping at the sight of you. It is the most beauty they have ever seen. So wet and glistening for their ruler.”

“And what of their Emperor?” Your hand came to clutch the extra fabric of his chest. His heart under your hand was picking up in paces. Beating against his ribcage while his eyes blew lustful.

“They should see their Emperor on his throne,” you commanded.

He dropped your leg and with a push from your hand on his chest, Geta stepped backwards until you pushed him to meet his throne. The seat wide for his liking, he sat upon it and grasped at the loose fabric of your dress at your hips.

“Further.” He pushed himself further back into the seat. Using the small step at the base of Geta’s seat, you lifted yourself onto him with your knees on either side.

“While he’s on his throne,” you let him pool the fabric into his hands and draw it upwards. You sat atop him and relished the way you could feel him grown underneath. “They shall see his weakness.”

“I do not have a weakness,” he growled, one hand clasping the back of your neck and forcing your face an inch from his own. You rolled your hips on him. His fingers adjusted the grip on the back of your neck and he hesitated. “I-I do not have a weakness.”

“Then what am I here for?” You asked against his lips and through his hesitancy, he gazed into your eyes before capturing his lips with yours. You sucked in a breath; cupping his head with both of your hands in strength.

Your fingers raked through his hair with a tug as his lips refused to separate themselves form yours. So desperate in want, he clutched himself on to you and your tongues melted together as one the longer he held you. One of his hands pulled on your dress and moved you forward, then tugging backwards to encourage you to grind above him. You needn’t a command to roll your body onto his.

Where your core rested on him, his erection formed against his tunic. You lined up, dragging yourself along the length of him and back. He pulled his lips away with a tug on your bottom lip. Geta bunched up your dress and watched as your cunt glided as best it could along his clothes. Each thrust painting the fabric a shade deeper he could see even in the night.

He was mesmerized. Entranced by your body—no different than the times he had taken you in the light or dusk of a day. You pussy glistened in the moonlight. Dripping with ecstasy as you only felt the outline of his cock above the thin piece that separated you.

Geta, annoyed the the amount of fabric that was your gown and released it roughly.

“Take it off,” he ordered. You huffed, unfurling it from the ties in on the side and letting it fall to the step below. Fully nude on his throne, his hands groped your ass to kiss you again.

“What of you?”

Geta simply pulled up the tunic on his chest and his cock sprung up in response. “You should know conscience now.”

“Us women do not see the same pleasures,” you meant in the form of clothing being simply. Geta quirked his head to the side and leaned it back against his seat.

He sat an awkward angle but was semi-sitting up with you on top of him. You lifted on your knees and palmed at his member with purpose. Remembering the lines and curve like the stones outside of your home, you pumped him as a grunt left his throat.

“I see that you do.”

“Not that anyone would know,” you snided.

Again, he furrowed his brows. “Do you want people to see? All of Rome to see what a woman of your stature does to me?”

“They don’t need to see, Geta,” you sighed and moved up on him. “If you wish to take a wife, that is already implied.”

“You are far too beautiful to be a wife. You are a goddess.”

“Who can only be sought in darkness.”

“That is when you come alive,” his eyes closed at the feel of his tip at the entrance of you. Moving back and forth along your slit while the wetness gathered to make his intrusion easier. The pull of your walls making room for him as you sunk down to take him whole; the claw of your fingernails into his chest at the sensation.

Your knees dug into the harshness of the chair as its girth, and his own, sent you ascending. Your back arched as his fingertips drove goosebumps along your spine. You started grinding on his cock slowly. Clit rubbing against his pubic bone, gently caressing your most sensitive bit as he gripped your hips tightly. You looked down at him prompting his stare to reach through you. It grabbed your soul and reminded you of all the reasons you kept answering his call.

Geta filled you completely. The stretch of him long and wide, your hands fell back to his knees and propelled you as you bounced on him the best your body could. He trusted up to you as the matched inside of you both struck hot and heavy. The burn of your body, the pulse of heat between your legs grew while the slick of your arousal coated his dick every time you sunk back down.

His hands bruised. They tightly gripped you as though you would slip away into the darkness should he let go. He needed to feel you in more ways than one. The digging of your nails into his skin transposed by the burn of his palms on your waist, hips, thighs, and wherever else they could touch.

“Look at you,” he praised breathlessly. “A God to a King.”

A Venus of Rome.

“My Venus,” Geta cut between his teeth. “Mine.”

His own pace superseded your own. Geta’s hips snapped up, racing a high that hit him like Cupid’s own bow straight to the heart. His pace was parading his strength he did not often show beyond words and measures. Your hands failed you on his knees and forced you forward.

Geta grabbed at your jawline, hand crushing your chin.

“You are mine,” he repeated. “No other man shall have you—as a wife nor lover.”

Your silence maddened him. He was relentless in his mission to send you to the edge. You could barely catch your breath and your chest, naked as the day you were born, rose and fell rapidly as the faint sheen of sweat washed over you.

“Do you understand me?” Geta stopped his movements and your shoulder jolted uncontrollably. He was the only one who had ever sent your body’s muscles into overdrive.

“Yes,” you nodded with his hand still grasping your jaw. “Yes, Geta.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between your own. You were truthful even if you hated him some days.

“Good,” he agreed with his own nod. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around,” Geta ordered again. “Your Emperor commands you.”

He released your jaw dismissively and let his hands fall beside his legs. You lifted yourself from him with a shiver and maneuvered yourself front facing. The arena before you, the empty spectator seats still viewing you freely in coitus. Geta’s hands roamed over your ass and up your back as you turned. He grasped himself at the base of his cock and lined up his head to you again.

“Come down,” he commanded.

You joined together as one again and you were quick to realize you had no bearings. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to support you except what little resistance your knees could gather against the harsh seat.

As though Geta could read your mind, he drew you back. He leaned you all the way against him to where you were nearly laying as though on a bed yet still angled as though lounging on a chaise. The new angle pushed his cock to the sweetest pull, pushing against your plush walls and letting a gasp escape you in turn. Geta smoothed the sides of your body while your feet turned under you and you let your weight lay on him.

He ran over your breasts slowly. Nipples long pebbled, he squeezed the flesh and brought them up before releasing them again. Geta brought his head to incline into yours as he thrusted into you once more.

“I see their jealousy. All of them—“ the non-existent spectators “—wanting to fuck a woman like you. If they saw an Empress so bare, so exposed, what would they do?”

Geta’s tone had become selfish. His pace returned to an unrelenting finish. He pounded into you. Each snap hitting your most pleasured spot perfectly as his hands cradled you and his words filled your mind with him.

“How would they feel seeing their Emperor defile the most exquisite creature that has ever graced Rome?”

“They would all wish to be you,” you admitted. His words of praise hit you as hard as his cock. Your head tossed back onto his shoulder.

“Open your eyes, darling. Head up.”

You did as commanded—like any good subject would do.

“This will be yours,” he guided one of your hands into his and brought them both to your bud as the other wrapped around your waist. With his finger atop yours, he helped circle your clit as his end was near.

“This land, Rome, can be ours. Just ours.”

That was, if he would ever be given permission to marry and the match was fixed.

“Gladiators in your name, fighting to see your beauty. Feasts and splendor for the sake of our children…”

The familiar heat in your core began to bubble like the markings of a volcano. You turned your head to his and kissed him deeply at the thought, rubbing your clit furiously with the help of his hand and relishing the way his cock completed your body.

“I will marry you,” Geta reaffirmed as his words caught every second his hips threatened to stutter at his release. “I will marry you I swear to the Gods if it is the last thing I do.”

Maybe you believed him, maybe you did not. Yet you would feel nothing but him and only him and everything he gave you in that moment. The utter devotion and the most raw form of his propensity.

If the night were not already fallen, you saw the waves of Heaven wash over you as the eruption of your orgasm shakes you to the core. The blinding hues of what Venus had brought upon you leaving you gasping for breath. Thoughtless and wordless of promises that carry on with the shaking of your thighs and soft whispers of marriage from his lips. Geta’s own release was missed by you. Mere seconds after your own, he stilled as his hips stuttered into you and the legacy of his spent began to leak beyond where he filled you.

Geta released his hand from your own and rubbed your arms soothingly as you laid heavier on him than before. The wear of your brilliance forging his content sighs. He closed his eyes as your head knocked into his own and the two of you sat there, in the empty arena, alone as one.

“I swear to the Gods,” he assured once more. “I will make you my wife.”

And if the Gods were fair, you would know it to be true. But they have never been fair in the life you knew. So, how could they be true now?

A/N: couldn’t help writing for Geta. The men of gladiator have me in a chokehold. Thanks for reading and while it isn’t required, reblogs and comments help writers the most! ♥️ [not proof read yet]

[robolvrr]

behind closed doors. ੈ♡˳

optimus prime x afab human reader warnings: nsfw.

he is fascinated.

it took a great deal of convincing. not him, but you - over mass displacement. you argued that with all the warnings from ratchet the purpose of such mechanisms should only be applied for tasks of importance.

optimus, as stoic as he can be now, could only hide his smile behind the battle-worn mask. "you are of importance", he said, such a simple reply. yet, he watched as you gaped like a goldfish, flustered beyond belief.

the prime had seen many a spectacle. overgrown forests bursting with life. deserts as dry as the sands of beachy hills and glacier cooled mountains under canopies of wind and snow. none could ever compare to humanity. so delicate and resilient, resourceful.

this adoration grips his spark in stride, especially when you finally get over nerves and slowly slip the velvet of your robe off a shoulder.

it's an intimate affair. skin and curve and softness, much closer than before. he's taller still, at least several feet. but now, he can gently grab your arms. squeeze his digits like scooping gold and watch entranced when the love indents form.

"optimus..."

a whine. he gingerly lets you go, still crowding your space. you show no actual discomfort and it's obvious by the time the puddle of fabric slips to your ankles, creating a halo around your feet. his optics, electric, take in the swell of your ass. your thighs, calves, biceps.

"the shower will get cold, my love."

now you are the one in a trance. so, you slide open the glass door, fingerprints leaving a kiss in the fog. your lover follows behind slowly, as if you might bound off like startled deer.

optimus wrangles his pondering by working the knots from your back instead.

the noises leaving your wet lips stir at his core. he feels perverted, watching your head tip back until the crown hits his chassis, spine arching beautiful as those modes of destruction and heroism glide down the front of your body.

droplets cling to your chest and drip down your chin. his fans, internal, click to a blast which is dampened by cascading shades from the shower-head.

"you look so small.. like this."

surprise takes your features by storm and his helm feels hot, not meaning to have said the thought aloud. however, when you part your legs to allow him to sponge lavender and honey suds with care, he can tell you find his sentiment charming.

he was so awkward with you at first.

now, the leader is wrapped tight around your fingers and you are wrapped tight around his. he can't help himself, thick silver of his middle digit pumping in and out. greedy where milky white coats and while his servos are still navigating, pleasing, you're practically drowning for him already.

you're cute. cute when you lift to the balls of your feet when he just can't take it anymore, array unlocking and spike rocking a steady pace that has you panting against porcelain.

when you aren't sounding dumb anymore, dribbling and babbling like you've lost your mind, you might laugh at the idea of the optimus prime being an ass-man.

it's a shameful vice when he switches positions. you're much bendier underneath warm drizzles, so you let him lift your leg just enough to hitch close to your hip so he can find that special angle that gets you singing. those "ah, ah, ah!"s when your flesh ripples, crushed ribbon beneath his grip.

and then you're crying, tangle of limbs while he sits. still full to the brim, strawberry pink coating your clit as he keeps close to you in a way you can't speak of beyond closed walls.

robolvrr 2024.

a/n: it has been so busy with holidays coming up! i am one tired gal. but i wanted to write a lil something (and i love this old tired man.)

[trashmouth-richie]

➶ pt 1 1/2: DULEX (the gnat) a mid/prequel || emperor geta x reader

➶ 18+ smut 🥀 this takes place somewhere after reader meets caracalla and geta the first night she comes to Palatine Hill and where part one ended.

➶pt i: dulci ut rosa {sweet as a rose🥀 } pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me 🥀 pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum

Licking up the hot spend that threatened to spill from your lips, you looked up at your Emperor. Your knees had gotten used to the stone floor, the sand no longer bothering you as it cut through your skin. Geta’s groans were low and guttural, every time. They never swayed, and neither did you as he pumped your mouth full every night. 

His chin was tilted upward giving you a clear view of his thick neck. It resembled a tree trunk, a knob in the center where it bobbed with satisfaction, veining with cords that would tighten when he denied himself the pleasure of release. Some nights were longer than others, but they all started and ended the same way. 

You told him every detail of what Caracalla had said during your evenings with him. Even the minute details of what he nibbled on during the vesperna, which was mostly fish, sucking the bones between his teeth and then using it as a tool to dig out the tender flesh between his gums. 

Geta sometimes laughed at the things you told him. Other times he was angry, brooding beneath that glorious wave of honeypot curls. 

Tonight, he didn’t ask for the secrets immediately on his arrival. Gets simply looked you over from head to toe, and when his eyes finished their feast he turned, cocking his head for you to follow him. 

He walked with hands behind his back as he strolled an inch ahead of you, so close that if your hands and his were loose, they’d touch. He showed you around the palace, paintings with various strokes of colors making up different frescoes along the great walls. All of which made up the Roman Gods. Apollo and Diana in one showcasing the sun and the moon. Neptune, riding a massive stallion, a hurricane in his wake. 

It was exquisite, the different materials used to makeup each piece was fascinating. Geta admired silently, and when he spoke in his native language, you were surprised.

Latin was becoming less and less common, but when he spoke, it rolled off his tongue in eloquence. Pure, unbroken, seductive. Flowing in a way you hadn’t heard in years. You could listen to him for hours.

Further down another corridor led to a great display of busts of Emperors before himself. He paused at one that looked fairly new, the marble uncracked and pristine. Geta, moved his fingers along the base of the heavy stone uttering quietly, “pater meus.”

You stood before the behemoth looking alter, taking in the intricate carvings of the handsome face, one that looked nearly identical to the man staring back at it. Turning towards him you managed,  “Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?” 

A ripple of shock wove like a needle across his face. Geta looked at you before you spoke, “mortuus est ex morbo.” It was no secret that Caracalla and Geta’s father fell ill and died unexpectedly. 

Still, you’d never lost someone close to you before. 

“Me paenitet,” you whispered. Even though Geta was a strange man to understand, you were still sorry for his loss. Emperor Septimius Severus was a great man, powerful and demanding to those around him, but still loved by Rome. 

Geta looked at you with narrowed eyes, “death isn’t feared by warriors, only those who are weak are afraid of what lies beyond our world.” 

He looked as if he would say something else, but he never did, only jerking his head as if to shrug clear his mind before turning on his heel walking quickly the way you came. This time, he walked further ahead of you, his feet slapping the marble floor as he went.  A rolling sensation spurring in his nerves. 

Geta had times of showing brute strength, other times he was almost kind to you, a friend perhaps. But his mind seem to change like the direction of the wind, like he pushed down anything that could possibly make him happy, make him let go.

“Tell me what he’s done on this day,” he suddenly ordered over his shoulder, his voice back to the bark it usually had, “from first light to his chamber.” 

Stumbling over your words you began the lengthy, and extremely boring explanation of how Caracalla had spent his day. Before you could finish and before getting to the closed off corridor, Geta grabbed your arm pulling you down past the massive stone pillars. Into the open.

The humid air hung thick and wet on your skin. The moon was draped with clouds, a poor night for prey. With his finger pointing to the dirt, he motioned for you to kneel, and you looked at him startled. Out here, anyone could see you and report your trickery to one of the generals or worse, to Caracalla. 

Raising his eyebrows in protest, the pieces of the puzzle  seemed to fit as he assembled your hesitation, “No one will see your whore mouth as I fuck it, they are all tucked into their beds, or drunk.” 

Nodding curtly, you obey, slinking to your knees, only to be stopped by his hand and brought back to standing before him. A look you couldn’t place was etched onto his features, as if he was fighting himself in his head, holding himself back. 

Geta had been pissed beyond belief after visit his father’s busy. All he could do was be reminded of how his father left him here to rule with his brother. Caracalla wasn’t fit to be an Emperor. He was barely fit to be anything more than a wet dog. 

Rage had filled his head as he stomped back to the hallway that was tainted with his moans and the slurp of your gags. He wanted to brutalize your mouth, maybe he’d end up knocking out one of your teeth, or bruise your throat so terribly that you couldn’t swallow anything but liquid for a weeks.

But now as you stood before him, he suddenly felt a sense of calm. Geta was always sure of what he wanted, what he desired. Since your arrival, you somehow seemed to put his maddening thoughts at ease. Just seeing your eyes and the way the suffocated moon shone in them… he couldn’t keep this act up much longer. 

“Don’t… don’t move just yet,” he nearly whispered, releasing your arm and moving his fingers across your collarbone. His thumb outlined the marrow beneath the skin, and he moved to the curve of your jaw before placing the pads of his fingers on your lips.

He was right. They felt like the most expensive silk gold could buy, and for the first time in Geta’s life, he wanted to feel them on his own. 

He’d fucked practically all the women of Rome, yet he never allowed them touch him in that way. But watching your lips move when you spoke the native tongue back to him made his cock jump, and his chest tighten. They moved in such a seductionous manner he felt as though he was in a trance. Your voice hypnotized him, your lips the object of his innermost desires.

Without thinking anymore of it, Geta leaned in, aligning his lips to yours, as he melted on the hot humid night beneath the Gods and anyone else to witness— he melted into his first actual kiss. As he pulled away from you, a delicate humming noise tickled his eardrum, a pestering sound, barely audible, something he’d been hearing more and more frequently…

-🔆part 3 is already being written besties

latin translation:

dulex— gnat

pater meus— my father

Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?— yes, how did he die?

mortuus est ex morbo— he died from an illness

me paentit— i’m sorry

☻ taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @fallout-girl219 @hellfireadmin @all-will-be-well-love @anythinggoesemily

@eddiesguitarskills @prestinalove @palomahasenteredthechat @wiltinglovers @razzeith

@workingwndrz @probablyin-bed @songforeddiemunson

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

imagining a situation where for whatever reason you absolutely need to be sat on the ghoul’s lap (like, due to lack of space/seating or something) and he gets the sick idea to bounce his knee once after you’re sat on him for a bit. y’know, trying to make it seem unintentional/like a muscle jerk or something.

but fully knowing exactly what it may do to you, and wanting to see…he’s beyond thrilled when it immediately elicits an involuntary moan😏

Close Quarters

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,429

Warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, very sweaty fucking around, mild choking, slight dubcon if you squint.

Notes: Anon, you're just like me (I am also embarrassingly into knee and thigh riding)! Thank you for the excellent submission.

Apologies for the delay in getting this out! I'm so relieved to be back at home, finally, as I wasn't able to be as productive when traveling as I'd hoped. Please enjoy.

You were going to tear Cooper a new one the second the two of you got out of here.

It had been his idea, after all, to veer off the road in your latest trek to nose around this place, which hadn't seemed all that interesting to you. Your business partner had been quite unrelenting, as in all things, despite your inability to see anything of immediate value in the area; some hulking old rusty machinery you couldn't identify, train tracks partially buried in the sand. Boxes of blasting supplies, long emptied. It appeared to be an abandoned mining facility upon first glance, but was difficult to tell, as you had barely had a chance to actually look around before things had suddenly gotten crazy.

It was his fault the two of you were stuck here now.

The old man was absolutely insistent that he'd glimpsed a deathclaw (which you'd read had a special propensity towards mines and quarries, and had told him as much just the night before) just over the nearby hill; you hadn't been looking in the proper direction to confirm when he'd grabbed you by the arm and yanked you into this...storage closet? Frankly, you weren't even sure it was large enough to pass as that, more like a coat closet with a single wooden box on the floor. The two of you were crammed as physically close as possible without touching, mostly due to the great efforts you were taking to balance yourself against the wall as carefully as you could. It was incredibly claustrophobic.

It was also unbearably hot, but apparently only for you; as you cast another unamused glance at him, the third in maybe twice as many minutes, you couldn't help but notice how his only annoyance seemed to be boredom. His eyes lazily scanned back and forth between the small holes in the wall like he was watching out for mole rats. You, on the other hand, were convinced you were about five minutes away from sweating yourself to death, your knees aching worse than they did most nights after miles and miles of walking, the pain setting deep into your bones. It was making you squirmy, your thighs and quadriceps flexing and relaxing as you tried your best to hover above your companion's leg, his body crowded so close behind yours. You'd been traveling together for months now, and he was much more comfortable with you than he ever had been, but you still wanted to respect his space...

...a courtesy which he didn't always afford you.

Something about Cooper Howard that you hadn't been anticipating when you started to grow closer was just how much of a filthy tease the man was. Despite his rather rough exterior, the old cowboy could be very charming, a side of him you saw more and more as your travels went on, and, as a result, you'd developed quite the embarrassing little crush on him. An additional heat crept up the nape of your neck as you thought on it, adding to the untenable swelter around you.

Once you'd propositioned him for sex. Once! How were you supposed to know that people on the surface didn't generally approach their casual hook ups that way? He'd laughed until you thought he'd be sick, your face red as a Nuka Cola sign the entire time.

You thought that had been that, and it was all you'd needed to assume that he simply wasn't attracted to you in that way. It stung some, but whatever, life goes on. So you'd soldiered on, trying to keep your head low the next few days to avoid making him uncomfortable, desperate to not lose his companionship due to an awkward misunderstanding, but that's when the teasing began in earnest. He took very apparent glee in crowding you in, getting into your face or into your ear, murmuring in that soft tone that made you crazy and turned your cheeks pink, only to almost immediately pull away, his demeanor as if nothing had even happened.

Whether he did this because there was any real intent behind it or simply because he enjoyed embarrassing you and making you squirm, you hadn't the faintest idea. You chastised him when he did it, but ultimately you couldn't really conceal the way the attention from him still made your heart race and your panties damp. Heck, the way the ferals seemed to be able to pick up on your scent from a mile out, you wouldn't be shocked to learn he could smell when you were aroused. Just another small humiliation to throw on the pile.

The damn space was already small in total dimension, made even worse by the fact that a shelf up top cut off a lot of the total height, forcing Cooper to stoop and bend awkwardly, the desire to stay silent keeping him hunched over you for several minutes before he slowly, slowly slid down onto the box, eventually reclining somewhat, bending his neck to and fro to peek out the various rust spots and bullet holes in the metallic siding. Your Pip-Boy didn't register any nearby movement, but that didn't always inspire confidence in situations like this.

This whole thing was miserable, but being torn limb from limb by a deathclaw would be worse, so you continued your infinite wall-lean, trying hard to remain silent as you wiped the sweat from your brow for the millionth time. Behind you, he seemed to relax a little further, his knee sliding slightly along the inside of your thigh. A shiver broke up your spine.

Eventually, your trembling, aching legs fully gave out, forcing you to allow your full weight to straddle the knee that was poking out from between your knees, pressing down directly at the apex your thighs. You tried your best to rest towards one foot or the other to keep your weight off of his thigh, but his hands quickly found your hips and stilled your movement.

The pressure from sitting this way had already begun to make your slit swell, increasing in sensitivity as the time continued to pass, but it was ignorable. Then, slowly but surely, and to your absolute horror, Cooper's leg began to jiggle, the slight movement rocking you back and forth ever so slightly until your clit began to ache. Now, you'd never seen him fidget before, but you'd also never seen the man have to cram himself into a shoe box, so you gave him some mild benefit of the doubt.

But the jiggling quickly became a problem, the heat between your legs rapidly equaling the heat in the room, leaving you breathing with noticeable volume. You buried your face into your chest as best as you could to try and hide the sound of your labored huffing, but the man behind you was quick to let you know that you were failing.

"Keep it quiet, kid." he chastised you in a hushed voice, but his hands stayed glued to your hips, balancing you right back onto his thigh, shifting your weight right to where you were trying to avoid placing it. You cleared your throat as another wave of heat swam through your gut, your companion continuing to move his leg up and down as the wind and sand hissed against the walls. Increasingly, you were nervous to look at him, afraid he would call you out for deriving some sort of sick pleasure from his innocent movements, accuse you of endangering both of your lives for some fleeting sexual gratification.

However, that moment never came, only more rocking and more huffing. Eventually, you began to slip further down towards his knee, struggling to fully support your weight any longer. His thigh jerked upwards, bouncing you several inches backwards and pressing hard into your swollen bud, drawing out a high pitched yelp that made you sound like a wounded animal. If you didn't know better, you'd have thought you felt him grin against the sweaty back of your neck.

"Hush." he said, tone thinner this time, but his hands began busily working your body as he slid you up and down. Two fingers worked their way into one of your belt loops, pushing and pulling you fully; the other traced teasingly along the damp, exposed skin of your belly at your belt line, and the feeling made you moan in earnest shock.

The leather of his gloves was shockingly soft against your damp skin as he suddenly let it jump up just above your breasts, the heel of his hand brushing at your cleavage as it slipped higher and higher, firmly clasping at your throat. You were still able to breathe, since he wasn't really choking you, but the grip he maintained below your jaw meant that he basically had full control of your body, pulling you back quickly and easily until you were snug against his chest, his cracked lips brushing the sensitive shell of your ear.

"If you can't keep that mouth shut, I'll find another use for it." he whispered, continuing to tug at your belt loops and your sanity. Your throbbing pussy clenched around nothing at his dirty talk, so much realer than ever before. You knew now that his teasing came from a genuine place, at least; you could very clearly feel the shape of his hardening cock against your ass.

You were tempted to test his claim, to whine out again fully and see what he would slip into your mouth. But instead you clamped your lips between your teeth so hard that you wondered if the chapped flesh would bleed, finally giving in and letting your hips cant ever so slightly against his leg as he continued to bounce his knee, the motion becoming quite exaggerated as the minutes continued to tick by.

The idea of any looming danger outside was quickly becoming lost among the static, the pretense of accidental squirming rapidly melting away; your brain felt runny, loose, and it was difficult to you to keep a logical train of thought for long, but it did occur to you that the two of you were basically fooling around in a closet. If you'd been coherent at all, you'd have wondered how he would react towards you when this whole awful, delicious thing was over, or even how it would end, but coherence was long lost to you as you barreled towards something amazing.

"Please, I...you have to stop..." you whispered desperately, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you felt the incredibly tense muscles in your abdomen start to flutter. If he didn't know what he'd been doing, he knew now, and his leg didn't stop for a single second, not even a falter in his movements as you began unashamedly moving your hips as far back and forth as you could reach, the firm muscle of him stimulating you so perfectly. A frantic little whimper escaped your lips, which your left hand jumped to cover, your teeth sinking into your palm you danced right up to the edge, your empty cunt gripping feverishly at nothing.

"Coop. Please." you begged, but you were unsure if you were begging him to stop or to let you finish.

He granted you the latter, both hands sliding right back down to your hips, pressing your weight hard down into him as you both worked your body back and forth, once, twice, and a final time as your head fell slack against his shoulder, his lips at the side of your throat as you came completely apart in his lap, limbs twitching, teeth pulling a tear in your dry lower lip as you bit down on it hard to hide your moans. Vaguely, you were aware of the feeling of him rocking his erection against your backside, his breathing almost as heavy as yours.

"Good girl." you swore you heard him mumble, but chalked it up to your overstimulated, spinning brain simply making you hear what you wanted to hear.

For maybe a minute, you allowed yourself the indulgence of resting against him, struggling to slow your heaving breaths. Slowly, you leaned forward once more, curling yourself into a half-ball with your head as far between your knees as you could manage until you no longer felt light headed. At some point, your companion regained his composure, his tone not strained or breathy in the slightest when he spoke to you again.

"Well," he said, suddenly back at his regular volume and causing you to jump slightly, "I think we can get out of here."

You twisted back to look at him, but before you could lock eyes, he was already lifting you by your hips to force you to stand on your shaky legs, pulling himself up to a crouch as he tugged the door open. You flinched, stumbling a bit as you attempted to conceal yourself behind the wall, but you peered back out when he confidently strode out past you, bending and turning at the waist as his spine let out a series of loud cracks and pops. Behind him, you struggled to stand fully upright, attempting to fix the fit of your clothing from where it had been tugged on.

"C'mon, let's go." he called over his shoulder, not turning to look at you fully as he trekked forward towards the hill you'd spent what felt like ages fearing as if it were nothing but another pile of dirt to be crossed.

"Shouldn't we try to go the long way around outta here? What if they're still over there, just not close enough to pick up on?" you called, concerned once more now that the flow of blood had generally returned to your brain. Everywhere around you, you felt imaginary danger, ready for anything to jump out from anywhere, as nothing had actually changed the whole time you'd been hidden away.

That got him to stop and turn to look back at you, an incredibly impish look playing across his face.

"I get the feeling it'll be alright." he winked before resuming his climb up the fairly steep incline, sand rolling down in little rivulets behind his retreating feet.

You lagged behind a bit, watching him go through narrowed eyes. Turning your gaze towards the setting sun, you mused to yourself that soon, the two of you would need to stop for the night. The roads through here were too dangerous to travel at night.

He would have some turnabout coming his way, you knew that for certain. Your days of being teased were about to be done.

[sungbeam]

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!

nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader

the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.

7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome

a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3

The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.

The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.

“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.

Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.

You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"

He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"

"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”

“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”

“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”

“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.

As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”

You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”

“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”

Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.

“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.

“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”

“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”

Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.

“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”

He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”

You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”

“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.

The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.

Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”

“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.

He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”

“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.

You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”

“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”

You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”

“Took you that long to notice?”

You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.

With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.

A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)

“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”

All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.

“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.

“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.

Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”

A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”

From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”

“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.

Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”

“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”

“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”

“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.

You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”

“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”

San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”

Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.

San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?

“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.

His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”

Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”

San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”

For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”

“And why not? He's a nice dude.”

“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”

San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”

“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.

He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.

San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”

Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”

“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”

“So you want me to be a parasite?”

San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”

“Parasitism, it is!”

As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.

Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)

When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.

When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.

You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.

Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”

Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”

Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.

You blinked. What in the world…?

Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”

“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”

Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”

Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.

Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”

“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.

“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”

“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.

Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”

You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.

His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”

“Jung,” you mused back.

“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”

Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”

He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”

Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’

You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.

Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.

“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?

When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.

Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”

His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”

You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.

From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.

“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)

A snort from Hyunjin.

Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”

By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.

Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a parasite about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.

At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’

“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.

From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”

When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.

It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—

A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.

You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—

You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.

Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.

“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)

Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.

“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.

He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”

You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.

“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”

You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”

He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”

“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”

Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”

A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.

As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.

But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.

“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.

He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”

For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.

Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.

The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.

Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.

Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”

“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”

“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.

“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.

Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”

You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”

“Do I get something in return?”

“I don't know, your jacket?”

He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”

“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.

The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”

You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”

“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.

“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.

Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”

It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.

Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.

Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.

Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.

“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.

One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.

Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"

“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”

Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.

Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.

You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”

“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?

Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.

“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”

“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.

His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”

Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”

“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.

Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.

Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.

There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”

Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.

“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”

“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—

San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”

“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)

San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.

Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.

You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.

Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”

“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”

You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”

The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”

“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.

A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”

He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.

You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”

“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.

You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.

Your car doors slammed in tandem.

“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.

The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.

There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)

Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.

You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.

A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.

You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”

“Uh oh,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.

“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”

“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.

“You're not wrong.”

Your head tilted to the side. “So?”

“So?”

You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.

Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”

“Huh?”

“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.

Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.

At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”

You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”

“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Jung. Jung, wait—”

“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”

“Wooyoung.”

He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.

Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”

“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.

“Hey!”

He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”

You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.

“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”

He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”

In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”

“I like you—I do.”

“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”

In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.

Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”

“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.

You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”

“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”

“What's that?”

“I think I like being your lover boy.”

You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”

Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”

“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”

How could you refuse?

He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.

When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.

“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.

God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.

When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.

“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.

He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”

“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3

atz m.list

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting “The Bezzle” audiobook, sequel to Red Team Blues

I'm heading to Berlin! On January 29, I'll be delivering Transmediale's Marshall McLuhan Lecture, and on January 30, I'll be at Otherland Books (tickets are limited! They'll have exclusive early access to the English edition of The Bezzle and the German edition of Red Team Blues!).

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to last year's Red Team Blues, featuring Marty Hench, a hard-charging, two-fisted forensic accountant who spent 40 years in Silicon Valley, busting every finance scam hatched by tech bros' feverish imaginations:

http://thebezzle.org

Marty Hench is a great character to write. His career in high-tech scambusting starts in the early 1980s with the first PCs and stretches all the way to the cryptocurrency era, the most target-rich environment for scamhunting tech has ever seen. Hench is the Zelig of tech scams, and I'm having so much fun using him to probe the seamy underbelly of the tech economy.

Enter The Bezzle, which will be published by Tor Books and Head of Zeus on Feb 20: this adventure finds Marty in the company of Scott Warms, one of the many bright technologists whose great startup was bought and destroyed by Yahoo! (yes, they really used that asinine exclamation mark). Scott is shackled to the Punctuation Factory by golden handcuffs, and he's determined to get fired without cause, so he can collect his shares and move onto the next thing.

That's how Scott and Marty find themselves on Catalina island, the redoubt of the Wrigley family, where bison roam the hills, yachts bob in the habor and fast food is banned. Scott invites Marty on a series of luxury vacations on Catalina, which end abruptly when they discover – and implode – a hamburger-related Ponzi scheme run by a real-estate millionaire who is destroying the personal finances of the Island's working-class townies out of sheer sadism.

Scott's victory is bittersweet: sure, he blew up the Ponzi scheme, but he's also made powerful enemies – the kinds of enemies who can pull strings with the notoriously corrupt LA County Sheriff's Deputies who are the only law on Catalina, and after taking a pair of felony plea deals, Scott gets the message and never visits Catalina Island again.

That could have been the end of it, but California's three-strikes law – since rescinded – means that when Scott picks up one more felony conviction for some drugs discovered during a traffic stop, he's facing life in prison.

That's where The Bezzle really gets into gear.

At its core, The Bezzle is a novel about the "shitty technology adoption curve": the idea that our worst technological schemes are sanded smooth on the bodies of prisoners, mental patients, kids and refugees before they work their way up the privilege gradient and are inflicted on all of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

America's prisons are vicious, brutal places, and technology has only made them worse. When Scott's prison swaps out in-person visits, the prison library, and phone calls for a "free" tablet that offers all these services as janky apps that cost ten times more than they would on the outside, the cruelty finds a business model.

Working inside and outside the prison Marty Hench and Scott Warms figure out the full nature of the scam that the captive audience of prisoners are involuntary beta-testers for, and they discover a sprawling web of real-estate fraud, tech scams, and offshore finance that is extracting fortunes from the hides of America's prisoners and their families. The criminals who run that kind of enterprise aren't shy about fighting for what they've got, and they're more than happy to cut some of LA County's notorious deputy gangs in for a cut in exchange for providing some kinetic support for the project.

The Bezzle is exactly the kind of book I was hoping I'd get to write when I kicked off the Hench series – one that decodes the scam economy, from music royalties to prison videoconferencing, real estate investment trusts to Big Four accounting firm bogus audits. It's both a fast-moving, two-fisted crime novel and a masterclass on how the rich and powerful get away with both literal and figurative murder.

It's getting a big push from both my publishers and I'll be touring western Canada and the US with it. The early reviews are spectacular. But despite all of this, I had to make my own audiobook for it, which I'm pre-selling on Kickstarter:

http://thebezzle.org

Why? Because Audible – Amazon's monopoly gatekeeper to the audiobook world, with more than 90% of the market – refuses to carry my work.

Audible uses Digital Rights Management to lock every audiobook they sell to their platform. Legally, only an Audible-authorized app can decrypt and play the audiobooks they sell you. Distributing a tool that removes Audible DRM is a felony under Section 1201 of the 1998 DMCA.

That means that if you break up with Audible – delete your Audible apps – you will lose your entire audiobook library. And the fact that you're Audible's hostage makes the writers you love into their hostages, too. Writers understand that if they leave the Audible platform, their audience will have to choose between following them, or losing all their audiobooks.

That's how Audible gets away with abusing its performers and writers, up to and including the $100m Audiblegate wage-theft scandal:

https://www.audiblegate.com/

Audible can steal $100m from its writers…and the writers still continue to sell on the platform, because leaving will cost them their audience.

This is canonical enshittification: lock in users, then screw suppliers. Lots of companies abuse DRM to do this, but none can hold a candle to Amazon, who understand that the DMCA is a copyright law that protects corporations at the expense of creators.

Under DMCA 1201 commercial distribution of a "circumvention device" carries a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that if I write a book, pay to have it recorded, and then sell it to you through Audible, I am criminally prohibited from giving you the tool to take it from Audible to another platform. Even though I hold the copyright to that work, I would face a harsher sentence than you would if you simply pirated the audiobook from some darknet site. Not only that: if you shoplifted the audiobook in CD form, you'd get a lighter sentence than I, the copyright holder, would receive for giving you a tool to unlock it from Amazon's platform! Hell, if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CD, you'd get off lighter than I would. This is a scam straight out of a Marty Hench novel.

This is batshit. I won't allow it. My books are licensed on the condition that they must not be sold with DRM. Which means that Audible won't sell my books, which means that my publishers are thoroughly disinterested in paying thousands of dollars to produce audiobooks of my titles. A book that isn't sold in the one store than accounts for 90% of all sales is unlikely to do well.

That's where you come in. Since 2020, I've used Kickstarter to pre-sell five of my audiobooks (I wrote nine books during lockdown!). All told, I've raised over $750,000 (gross! but still!) on these crowdfunders. More than 20,000 backers have pitched in! The last two of these books – The Internet Con and The Lost Cause – were national bestsellers.

This isn't just a way for me to pay off a lot of bills and put away something for retirement – it's proof that readers care about supporting writers and don't want to be locked in by a giant monopolist that depends on its drivers pissing in bottles to make quota.

It's a powerful message about the desire for something better than Amazon. It's part of the current that is driving the FTC to haul Amazon into court for being a monopolist, and also part of the inspiration for other authors to try treating Amazon as damage and routing around it, with spectacular results:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dragonsteel/surprise-four-secret-novels-by-brandon-sanderson

And I'm doing it again. Last December, I went into Skyboat Media's studios where Gabrielle De Cuir directed @wilwheaton, who reprised his role as Marty Hench for the audiobook of The Bezzle. It came out amazing:

https://archive.org/details/bezzle-sample

Now I'm pre-selling this audiobook, as well as the ebook and hardcover for The Bezzle. I'm also offering bundles with the ebook and audiobook for Red Team Blues (naturally these are all DRM-free). You can get your books signed and personalized and shipped anywhere in the world, courtesy of Book Soup, and I've partnered with Libro.fm to deliver DRM-free audiobooks with an app for people who don't want to mess around with sideloading.

I've also got some spendy options for high rollers. There's three chances to name a character in the next Hench novel (Picks and Shovels, Feb 2025). There's also five chances to commission a Hench short story about your favorite tech scam, and get credited when the story is published.

The Kickstarter runs for the next three weeks, which should give me time to get the hardcopy books signed and shipped to arrive around the on-sale date. What's more, I've finally worked out all the post-Brexit kinks with shipping my UK publisher's books to EU backers. I'm working with Otherland Books to fulfill those EU orders, and it looks like I'm going to be able to sign a giant stack of those when I'm in Berlin later this month to give the annual Marshall McLuhan lecture at the Canadian embassy:

https://transmediale.de/en/2024/event/mcluhan-2024

Red Team Blues and its sequels are some of the most fun – and informative – work I've done in my quarter-century career. I love how they blend technical explanations of the scam economy with high-intensity technothrillers. That's the the same mix as my bestselling YA series Little Brother series – but these are firmly adult novels.

The Bezzle came out great. I hope you'll give it a try – and that you'll come out to see me in late February when I hit the road with the book! Here's that Kickstarter link again:

http://thebezzle.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/10/the-bezzle/#marty-hench

[gladiatorcunt]

- BELLY OF THE BEAST | II.

the ocean washed open your grave

cw: kinktober prompt (teratophilia), made up mer anatomy, double penetration (in reader’s ass and pussy) w/ two dicks on one guy, implied painal, merman!john b with siren tendencies, mer people eat humans, implied somnophilia and kidnapping and oviposition, mating rituals but only one party knew about them, background jjpope, blood, extremely dubious consent bordering on non con, implied plus size reader, reader’s intentionally silent, yandere

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

It’s the heart of july. You can see Venus this evening. Picked clean fish bones scuttle along the pebbled gray beach like a rake sifting through bramble. Broken shells litter the sand, shards of vivid color and shades of dull nude turned this way and that. Someone’s inspecting them on the edge of the water, angling their hands in strange ways to investigate how the sunlight shimmers off the shell. They’re agitated, their search going unsatisfied, loose strings of thread frayed at the ends without objects to connect.

Summer is stressing you out, too much time spent feeling pressure to have experiences when you should really be lounging the dog days away in an old timey rocking chair. You’d cringe at the condensation sliding down your glass of sweet tea. You’re on an aimless walk on the beach instead, keeping a wide berth from the shore.

That’s when you see him.

A sunken sunbeam on earth. His tail is a myriad of red-yellow-orange scales, when he moves he becomes a human man on fire. The flick of his ruby tail fin looks like flame taking shape in the open sea, something that you know is basically impossible, maybe your brain is swelling. But it gives you a moth’s wings all the same. You rub your eyes but he’s still there when you open them again.

A merman.

He’s hissing at the blonde guy fooling around with the shells, “JJ, get your tail back home or so help me.”

Which to you is just a series of clicks and trills.

“JJ” snorts, sticking his tongue out and going back to rifling through the shells.

You stand around awkwardly, transfixed and somehow unable to move away. The merman with brown hair finally spots you and his eyes widen for a split second before he makes a distressed bunch of clicks, to which the blonde one seems to get the message and dart under the surface of his water. His pile of shells are left unattended on the shore.

The brunette merman clears his throat, “Hi, there. What’s your name?” His voice is groggy around the unnatural syllables, but his tone is smooth and enticing.

You freeze, and all thoughts of sneaking away are out the window. You’ve seen him, you can’t ask him to trust that you wouldn’t tell anybody about him, not that they’d even believe you. Still, having insurance never hurt nobody.

You find yourself making footprints in the sand, stepping forward until you’re right in front of the merman, looking down at him like a child peers down a well. A cold sensation splashes at your spine through your clothes, but he doesn’t sing so he must not be a siren, that or he doesn’t need to sing to ensure you in his talons.

His teeth would give a great white shark the shivers as he smiles, mouthing your name back to you in the sea air.

The sloshing of the waves under the setting sun is all you can hear, and his warm brown eyes are all you can see. The world swirls around you, becoming mist that falls to the ground and is swiftly swept out to sea. One minute you’re plopping yourself down on the sand in front of the merman’s grinning face, and the next he’s scraping the edge of his talon along your thigh.

Men will be men, no matter the species.

“My name’s John B.” He says, his pupils dilating at the scent of your blossoming arousal, a shark with a single drop of the blood in the ocean. “So nice to meet you, babe.”

Later you’ll remember stuttering, trying to make excuses to peel away and run for the hills. But John B clicks disappointingly and sucks his teeth, fishing a stuck piece of flesh out from in between them. It’s the skin and hair still on that bit of meat that makes you stay, another stupid decision you’ll kick yourself for later if you even survive. You try to open your mouth to speak, but the movement is sluggish and your words feel trapped in your vocal chords by some kind of force field.

How much can you explain away putting yourself in danger because the man with a fish’s tail and gills was hot? John B smiles from ear to ear when you give into the pull between you two, swishing his crimson tail fin back and forth as your eyes fixate on the flecks of melted gold in his.

Hours seem to pass by in a blur and when you’re aware of reality again, you’re on your back with John B hovering above you. His talons are buried in the sand on either side of your head, and the full moon behind him sparks a feeling of trepidation in your belly.

He smiles, razor sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Do you trust me?”

You try to answer and he laughs, his sharp claws scraping against your nose as he boops it. John B knows you can’t actually form the words, but lucky for you he has a knack for knowing exactly how you’re feeling. And pushing you to feel however they’d need you to, but he digresses, it’s the cusp of mating season after all. He’s not going to pump you full of his eggs, but those first glimpses of your thighs in your swimsuit has his cocks itching to come out.

JJ is probably back moping with the others anyway, they’ll have found some other poor unsuspecting humans for dinner and settled in for the night. He can be a little late to catch up with his pod, just this once.

Your mouth drops open as John B grinds his lower half against yours, having ripped off your swimsuit bottoms in the blink of an eye like it was nothing.

His scales give you little cuts here and there, but their smooth texture and the way their coolness soothes the heat licking at your body has you trying to gasp.

You feel an opening push against your pussy, semi-hard folds with the hint of a deeper recess. You’d have no serious problem if you spent your night bumping pussies with what some would say is a freak of nature, but then you feel a couple slight bumps in the middle of his folds.

John B grins, bloodthirsty.

“Gotta coax ‘em out of their sheath, give ‘em something to fuck into.” He grits, pressing your hand to the outer sheath and guiding your coaxing movements, little rubs and pats. “And lucky for me, I've found the perfect thing. I’m sorry, I normally don’t play with my food. That’s JJ’s thing.”

He tsks, and half out of fear and half out of crazed desire your rubbing becomes more focused and your pats turn into love taps. Sure enough, two long cocks begin to jut out from his opening. They’re the same fiery color as his tail, each as thick as your forearm, with more of a tapered tip than a human cock and sort of squishy even when they’re hard. You don’t want to even try to guess how big they are, definitely larger than any human’s dick could be.

You hear a woosh go through your ears and you find that you can little sounds into his salty lips now, whining as they brush against yours. John B hums what sounds like a lullaby and you feel your pussy release a gush of slick, loosening up to prepare itself to be torn apart.

You whimper into his mouth as he teases the tips of his cocks against both of your entrances, and he kisses you quiet as he starts to push in without warning. His teeth cut your lip open, and the taste and scent of your blood only spurs him on more.

“Oh, that’s it, human. Work that pretty ass back on me.” He trills hypnotically, his scales scratching against your flesh as he slams both of his cocks to the hilt inside of your holes. “Look at you, pounded all sloppy by monster cocks you can’t even see.”

You can’t really scream, when you try it just sounds like the last weak sound someone would make before they die. But… you don’t feel any pain, and you look to confirm that you’ve indeed taken every inch of the merman’s dicks. A plus to fucking a monster with powers, you guess, you know he could’ve made you feel, could’ve ripped your walls open and used your blood as lube to work up an appetite.

His teeth keep cutting you as he kisses you, graciously letting you adjust before flicking his tail fin in the air and fucking you into the sand back. His talons slide all over your body, playing pat-a-cake with the skin on your tummy and groping your tits when one of his thrusts has his cocks feeling particularly good. You moan when he pinches your nipples, his claws scratching your pert buds just right as his cocks split you in what seems like four different directions.

You reach up to shakily grab onto his wet shoulders, closing your eyes as the summer night breeze wafts over you. Till a sharp poke to your cheek makes you open them again. Ah, he wants you to see what kind of “man” you’re really fucking. Once again, men will be men even when they live underwater.

The cock in your pussy hits a spot deep inside you that has you gasping for air, a useless effort since John B does it again and again and again. Your hands fall to brush along his gills, divots in his torso with smaller fins extending outwards, wanting to firmly grab that part of his torso but also not wanting to incite a frenzy in the merman.

If only you’d known that a mer’s gills are even more sensitive than their genitalia. The second your finger tips touch the small flaps, John B hisses and digs his talons into your love handles, drawing blood as he picks up his thrusts. His tail thumps against the sand, how he has the strength to life all 200+ pounds of his body and tail to fuck you in a missionary sort of position is beyond you.

Your voice is gone at this point, carried away by the wind into the night. You wrap your arms around John B’s neck and hold on, smelling the salt water and something sweet like coconut, letting the motions of his cocks molding your insides around them move through you. The one in your ass rebels against the tightness of your asshole, bullying it with every stroke with what little slick trickled down into the rim from your pussy.

He wraps his strong arms around your waist and lifts your hips up, forcing you to take him at a deeper angle. John B grounds him by gripping your ass cheeks, his talons pushing into the thick globes, drawing blood there too. He doesn’t have the leverage or means to properly smack them, but that’s something for next time, seeing how the water would ripple around them with every slap.

You’re dazed, lying there and taking it. You hear music, drums and rumbling vocals, but there’s no one around and no one’s singing. You’re bleeding from a few different places, so maybe it’s dizziness brought on by blood loss that emboldens you to pull the merman into another kiss. Even as his cock in your pussy pummels your g spot and the one in your ass abuses the puckered hole, John B is strangely mindful of his teeth this time.

Your tongues shyly flick against each other, he clicks and slaps his tail fin on the sand bank in quick succession. Instead of quickening his thrusts as he swims towards release, the merman slows down, shimmying his hips and jostling his cocks inside you. The moonlight combined with your blood and the joining of your bodies means you’ve signed up for something you can’t even comprehend.

John B tentatively skirts a talon down your stomach, deep in thought as well as deep in your guts.

“You know what? I think this needs to be round anyway, be a shame for you to be another skeleton decorating our cave.” Are the last words you hear before a wet hand closes around your throat and a louder lullaby reaches your ears. “We’ll figure out the whole “human” thing later, I could kiss JJ for wanting to waste his time on finding shells for Pope.”

Distant whoops and cheers follow you into unconsciousness.

[charrlote365]

SAND, SEOYEON AND S*X Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SEOYEON Word Count: 13.077 Tags: Romance, massage, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Seoyeon

As the sun set below the horizon, painting the desert in hues of orange and pink, I couldn't help but dazed at how surreal our honeymoon felt. Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, with Lee Seoyeon, the love of my life and, incidentally, a member of fromis_9. The expansive desert stretched out before us, an endless canvas of dunes that seemed to go on forever.

Seoyeon's laughter echoed through the air, her unique husky voice making the sound even more enchanting as we hiked up yet another sandy hill. Her joy was infectious, "CAMPING, CAMPING, CAMPINGG!!~", she kept singing loudly while jumping around in the sand, and despite the sweat trickling down my back, I felt like the luckiest man alive. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, who would have thought that our paths would cross like this, leading us to this moment?

"Hey, look at that cactus!" Seoyeon exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a tall, spiky plant standing high amidst the sand. She ran towards it, her oversized white shirts waving around. I jogged to catch up, grinning at her childlike enthusiasm.

"Be careful, babe," I warned playfully. "Those things can be pretty prickly."

She turned back to me, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you afraid of cactus? Just be afraid of me ~, because I can bite! Happp!! hehehe~"

Before I could respond, she stumbled, her foot catching on an unseen rock. Time seemed to slow down as she was falling forward, right onto the cactus. My heart skipped a beat.

"Seoyeon!" I shouted, rushing to her side. She sat up, a look of shock on her face, now adorned with tiny cactus thorns. Despite the situation, she started to giggle, her husky laugh vibrating through the air.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," she said, her laughter bubbling up. I couldn't help but join in, the absurdity of it all hitting us both at once.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," I said, helping her to her feet. "We'll have you de-thorned in no time."

We made our way back, the heat of the day giving way to a cooler evening breeze. Back in our room, the light was soft and warm, casting a comforting glow on Seoyeon's face. She sat on the edge of the bed, still giggling intermittently. I fetched the first aid kit, trying to suppress my own laughter.

"How many staycation stories start with a cactus attack?" I said, sitting beside her with tweezers in hand.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Not many, I bet. But it makes for a great story, don't you think?"

"I do. And it's all part of the adventure," I replied. "Just our little secret."

She smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. "Our secret staycation in the desert. No media, no fans, just us."

I started to gently remove the thorns, one by one. She winced occasionally but kept her spirits high. "Does it hurt?" I asked, pausing to look into her puppy eyes.

"Um, a little," she admitted, her voice sulky. "But it's okay, it's worth it for the memories. Besides, it’s kind of funny. I mean, who else can say they hugged a cactus on their honeymoon?"

"Of course, the great and the only one, Lee, Seoyeon," I replied, chuckling. "You never cease to amaze me."

She giggled, her husky voice making my heart flutter. "You know, this reminds me of that one dream I dreamt few days ago, I tripped and fell into a bush during a festival performance. The fans thought it was part of the choreography."

I laughed, imagining the scene. "So, did you play it off like a pro?"

"Of course, even in my dream I'm still that great dancer of fromis_9" she said with a wink.

I continued to carefully pull out the thorns, the process surprisingly hard. Her laughter made it easier, turning what could have been a painful event into a bonding experience. Occasionally, she would make a funny face, and we would burst into laughter all over again. And for every laugh she does, the more I fell deeper for her.

"You know," she said softly, "I've always been in the spotlight, even in my childhood. My life is always about performing. But now that I'm with you, I can just be myself. Even with a face full of thorns."

I paused, looking at her with nothing but love. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," I said. "You're perfect, even with thorns and all."

She smiled, reaching out her hand to touch my right cheek. "Thank you for always being there, for making even the craziest moments special."

"That's what love is, right?" I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Being there for each other, laughing through the chaos."

By the time I finished, her face was free of thorns, and she looked radiant despite the disaster. We sat there, in our little desert oasis, enjoying the warmth of our love and laughter.

"I need to take a shower," I said, standing up and stretching. "Make sure you don't get into any more cactus-related trouble while I'm gone."

She laughed, her husky voice following me into the bathroom. The warm water felt amazing after the long, adventurous day, and I took my time, savoring the moment of solitude.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was greeted by a sight that made me burst into laughter. Seoyeon was laying on the bed, her face and upper chest covered in gummy bears made from honey.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked, still chuckling.

She looked up at me with her silly face. "Honey is supposed to be good for healing scars, right? So I thought these gummy bears might help." She explained playfully.

I couldn't stop laughing. "You do know you look like a walking candy store right?? Come here, you."

I got on the top of her and slowly picking off the gummy bears one by one, popping each one into my mouth. She squealed in mock protest, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Yaaa..Stop eating my medicine!" she scolded jokingly, swatting at my hands.

"But they taste so good," I replied, grinning. "And besides, you're already healing. Laughter is the best medicine, remember?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "You're just the worst."

"And you love that about me right," I said while leaning myself down to kiss her. Despite of her small face, her lips are rather thick, they wrap my lips like a warm blanket, our saliva mixed all together and it tasted like honey thanks to the gummy bears I just ate. Our tongues were slipping against each other like they're going to melt to be one. I then stopped and walked away from her, she was wondering why I didn't continue. "Where are you going? Let's continue, I still need your love to heal, you know?" She lamented.

"Yes, mam! wait a minute, I have something you will like", I said as I reached into the first aid kit bag again, this time pulling out a small bottle of essential oil. "You know what this is right?," I asked, pouring a few drops onto my fingertips. Massaging her body with oil has been our routines. She loves it when her body is sticky with oil and when I rub her body, she always squeals and giggles.

She raised an eyebrow, Pretending not to know. "What's that? I know nothing about that, I'm innocent, officer", while trying to avoid eye contact with me.

Ignoring her respond, I started to take off her white shirts and bra. I could see her breasts which upper part filled with bruises and scars from the thorns, and also red line mark on her shoulders from her bra straps. I poured some oil onto her body and gently dabbed the oil gently on her shoulder where the thorns had left small marks. She shivered slightly at the touch, a giggle escaping her lips.

"That tickles," she said, her voice husky and playful.

"Sorry," I said, grinning. "I'll be gentle." I continued rubbing the oil to her neck and her face cheeks. Looking at her silly face up close which now filled with some scars and bruises from the fall, I couldn't stop myself to kiss her lips again, wanting her to know that I will take care of her from now on, no matter what. I closed my eyes slightly and used my lips to rub over the oil on her scars slowly, she felt ticklish yet aroused from all the kissing and started hugging me tight. Her breasts pressed against mine so tightly that I could feel her heart beat getting faster.

"This feels nice," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," I replied, my heart swelling with love for this incredible woman.

I continued rubbing her body with my lips. I kissed her nips which laced by oil, and rubbed the other nip with my finger. She let out a little moan. Her breath is getting uncontrollable and she started biting her finger. Her eyes were locked on me, they're filled with trust, love, excitement and lust. Just looking at her expression made me filled with pleasure.

I sneaked my right hand into her pants and started rubbing her pussy. I could feel sticky substance already soaked her underpants. I licked my finger that's laced by her love juice and put it back inside her. She shouted as 2 fingers in were too much for her.

"Ups! Sorry. We just started and you're already soaked, Seoyeon-ah." I teased her.

"Shii.. just be quiet and get it over with, I'm still in pain, you know..", she replied with pouty mouth on her face.

I stood up and removed my bathing robe, letting them drop to the floor. I went back on the bed and slowly took off her jeans. She couldn't say anything as her heart beat faster, knowing what's going to happen next.

I raised her legs up and opened them wide. I could see her pussy bare open and I couldn't hold myself to suck and bite her clits slightly hard. She was surprised by it that she screamed so loudly I was afraid people in the next room might hear us. Luckily, I realized no one's gonna hear us since we're in a hotel that's close to be nowhere on the map and she continued to moan loudly. I continued licking her pussy like I was a cat licking butter and put my middle finger into her pussy. Her pussy neck is so short that I could feel her womb gate with just my finger. I teased her womb by squeezing them inside and she started pulled my hair yelling how good it felt. I kept teasing her womb and I could feel her pussy wall suddenly got tight as she arched her back and sprayed her love juice all over my face and the bed.

As if it wasn't enough I put 2 fingers back into her and rubbing the upper part of her pussy, teasing her g-spot with every thrust. She felt her high coming again and within seconds she reached her climax for the second time and her body shuddered roughly. I licked and sucked her pussy to clean it from her love juice, including the thick, white liquid oozing from her that tasted like cheese, my favorite delicacy. lmao.

"Hmm, your pussy is so tasty", I teased her while she was still gasping for air from her second orgasm. Yet suddenly, right after she stopped, she raised up and gripped my hard rock penis. "Ouch!", I yelled as I didn't expect her move. "Now it's my payback", Seoyeon said while looking at me with sharp gaze after what I just did to her. She suddenly bit my penis tip hard making my knees weak and I shouted "Yahh! Seoyeon-ah!! Please be gentle!".

"Just be quiet and man up", she replied with a little giggle. She then sucked my dick like its a boba drink that she likes. Every suck feels like my soul getting suck into her mouth. My penis barely fit to her small mouth that it felt as tight as her pussy. Her mouth walls wrapped my dick with its warm, wet and intensely. Slowly but sure, I feel the tickling sensation turned into ecstasy, my head's got lighter and just like that I spurted my sperm inside her mouth. I grip her head and push it closer and deeper into my crotch as I went high up to heaven. My sperm flowed so much that it started to spill on the bed. She then opened her mouth to show how much sperm I just unloaded roughly into her tiny mouth.

"Wait, lemme get the tiss..", but before I could even finish my words she replied "I already drank it", with her giggle and husky voice, delightly. Aftermath was a mess with our bed was wet, stained with our body fluid. We quickly cleaned them up as we didn't want to be fined by the hotel and even used the hair dryer to dry it up quickly. It was so tiring, that still naked, we lay down on the bed, with no energy left in us.

As we laying side by side, facing each other closely, we leaned in for another kiss, I felt the warmth of her breath against my lips, mingling with the sweetness of the honey and the floral scent of the oil. The room was filled with the scent of the desert, a blend of flower oils and our fluids, lingering reminders of our wild day. Her eyes, shining with love and amusement, held mine as we shared this intimate moment.

Cuddling her close, I whispered, "I can't wait to see what other crazy adventures we'll have."

She smiled, her husky voice soft in my ear. "As long as we're together, I'm ready for anything."

And as we kissed, sealing our promise, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, with laughter, love, and a spirit of adventure that would see us through anything. In that moment, our secret honeymoon in the desert felt like the most perfect beginning to the rest of our lives.

[abirddogmoment]

We love a sandy landscape

[minhosimthings]

Agora Hills

Symphony Smut Series Day 14: Doja Cat's Agora Hills

Lyric - Suck a little dick in the bathroom

Pairings: bf!Chan × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, thigh riding, dry humping, oral (m recieving), missionary, oral stimulation, dom!chan, sub!reader, dirty talk, no actual sex just fingering and oral, implied p in v at the end, semi-public sex, Hannah is a menace.

A/N: I am really sorry for the slow pace with the fics everyone! But classes have started again and I'm kinda getting busy nowadays but I promise I'll complete the other ones in no time!

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Australia. Hot and Humid.

Even hotter with your boyfriend grilling meat on the beach, clad in a white tanktop which fitted around his muscles perfectly, making you almost visibly drool.

"You good unnie?" Hannah sat down on the warm sand next to you, "You've been staring at my brother for like half an hour."

"Im fine babe." You smiled at her as he handed you your popsicle, "I'm just admiring him."

"Normally I would say 'ew love' but I've noticed you've been very dick ridden for a long time." Hannah giggled, "So I have a solution."

"A solution to what exactly?" You asked her, tearing your eyes away from Chan's arms.

"So your problem is the sound right? Cause our house isn't exactly a sound proof studio." Hannah nudged closer to you, an impish smile on her face, "But through my recent experiments I've found out that the storage locker right next to you guys' bedroom is actually sound proof."

"Isn't a sound proof storage locker kinda dangerous?" You raised your brow at her to which she brushed it off and kept talking.

"Babygirl all I'm telling you is that my parents will be out for the whole afternoon tomorrow. So get in that storage locker and have some fun! Moan as loud as you want, no one's gonna hear. Well atleast the friends I'm inviting tomorrow won't."

You laughed at Hannah's unseriousness and ate the delicious popsicle in your hand, going back to drooling over your boyfriend's arms.

It wasn't a great plan, but it was the only one you had to fulfill your aching cunt

The next day went quicker than you had anticipated and before you know it, you were in the storage locker, with you mouth near Chan's cock, and his hands on the top of your hair.

Giving him head really wasn't a great beginning but you wanted to convince him to fuck you in his parents' storage locker so it was for the best.

You start with gentle long, slow licks from top to bottom the base, you know you´re doing a good job, when you hear Chan letting out his moans. You tease him a little with your tongue and he immediately responds by pushing your head further to him, your nose hitting his lower belly.

You make eye contact with him, both of your faces are sharing the same lust, that is now the main emotion, anger can´t no longer be found. You hold him in your throat for a few second before pulling out for a air, but you want to show him you can do it, so you dive back in, making him moan louder this time. You hoped fervently that Hannah was right about the sound proofness of the room. You could hear her friends and her laughing raucously in her room.

You can feel him twitch inside your mouth, he is close. Your movements are now slower and everything is just messier, spit is coming down your chin, onto your tits, which makes Chan go feral.

"Fuck- just like that, baby." You moan against him, which sends shivers up and down his spine. "You´re doing so good, so fucking good."

You move closer to him, his dick hitting the back of your throat, your hands are slowly coming to his balls, playing with them which makes Chan cum righ away.

Keeping still so he can send his full load down your throat, you proudly swallow it whole, like the good girl you are. "Just like that, good, very good-" Chan says out of breath. You lick him clean, not letting a single drip of cum go to waste.

You look like a mess, but so does Chan. One of his fingers finds your chin and he wipes the little cum you had on your lower lip. Bringing the finger into his mouth and tasting himself. "Hm, I don´t blame you, why are you so addicted to my taste... I’m quite delicious." He makes you stand up. "Oh shit the floor." You can see that you´ve ruined the carpet, it´s completly drenched from your juices. "We can clean the floor later baby, I need your cunt first."

Chan gripped your hips tight and sat you down on his thigh, as he plopped into an old armchair, which was weirdly very pristine in its conditon.

"Take what you want, sweetheart." He whispered, hot breath brushing against your neck. A soft moan couldn't help but seep through the parting of your lips as Chan began to rock your hips against his leg - arousal pooling further in your panties.

"Chan," you groan when he cups your breasts, squeezing firmly but not too hard, just the way you love it, his fingers grazing over your nipples and pulling on them softly, dragging more sinful noises out of you. "I need you," you sigh out, lolling your head back as he starts to kiss down your jaw and along your neck, nibbling softly and smirking against yours skin at the feeling of your hips grinding against her harder, needing to ease the incessant throb between your legs, the intolerable heat that only he could help you with, "Please."

"You're so impatient baby," he teases, sucking on part of your skin to leave a mark, his hands moving away from your chest to your ass, guiding you against his thigh once again, a groan leaving you at his slower pace. "You'll get what you want soon," Chan murmurs, tilting his head back up to meet your lips, claiming them briefly and messily before lowering his head to kiss along your collar bones, sucking another mark as he knew you loved it. His parents might question where those marks came from, but the mosquito population was quite high in Australia so it wasn't a stress for Chan.

Chan gripped your hips again and took you off of his thigh, swiftly ripping your panties off and disposing of them by the side.

"Bend against that counter for me darling." He commanded, leading you over to the marble counter, "let me fuck you from behind yeah?"

“Oh my g-god, Chan!” You loudly whined before he covered your mouth with his big palm, other hand pushing your hips a bit forward so he could probably bend your body however he pleased, making your ass perfectly stick out for him to fuck.

He groaned behind you as you felt his hand squeezing your hip, abdomen already slapping against your back while you choked on your sobs behind his hand.

“Oh f-fuck,” he dropped his forehead against the back of your head as the pace of his hips went up, making you roll your eyes into the back of your head.

"Oh fuck this." Chan growled, before pulling out and flipping you over with agression filling his veins. He hadn't fucked you for so long and he was relishing the noises you were making which was always his favourite song.

“Channie, please!” You begged in a whiny tone, making him chuckle, “Please what, little one? You have to tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” he kissed your shoulder blade before he focused his eyes on his two fingers and how they were rubbing your clit before he shoved them slowly into you, making your head fall forward.

“Oh no, no, no baby,” he laughed deeply, “you stay here while I play with you,” he harshly grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled your head back up, making you groan as he continued fingering your wet cunt.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his thumb make contact with your clit, the nub already starting to stimulate just by the touch of his finger. You felt your clit throb against his fingers as he rubbed small circles on it, the rhythm in sync with the fingers he was pushing inside of you.

Your back flushed against his chest as you felt yourself getting closer to that sweet release of euphoria, your shaky breaths and whimpers getting muffled as you pressed the palm of your hand against your mouth. Just as you were approaching that all too familiar release, Chan pulled his hands away quickly.

"Channie!" You protested, reaching for his hands again, in your dumb doll state.

"Tch tch so impatient for me." Chan clicked his tongue, looking at you with dark eyes, "you'll get my cock darling don't worry."

"And I'll make sure everyone hears what sort of a needy cockdumb slut you are for me."

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged, send an ask my way!

[martuzzio]

HERMITCRAFT CATCHPHRASES

Hi, here's a (hopefully comprehensive) reference list of hermit catchphrases! The main goal here is to help writers and artists who (like me) might struggle with getting the characterization of some hermits right. Check out more info at the end of the post!

Note: this list updates a lot whenever I get new suggestions, which means reblogs aren't always fully accurate. I've linked this post to the top of my blog so it's easy to access the most recent version :)

Bdubs Shreep / uh-oh, gotta shreep! Crastle I love ya to death It’s gorgee Beyootiful Uh oh! Hell’s blazes! Hawsies YOU'LL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO! Shuddup! Judas priest! Bdubs' PERFECT REDSTONE!! What in the world! Holy cow! Nuh-uh! Hoimycraaaaaf Whimsy Trying my heart out

Beef EEskall That was my nickname in college! Nailed it! Dangit! Beefy Tunes Smelly Etho Opulent Etho? Oh, yeah, I own him Eyy, I go up and I go down. Ladders! / Eyy, ladders! Beef taught Etho about redstone Oh my goodness! Oh boy! What the heck Oh, baby! Quote unquote A ton of __

Cleo Class dismissed! I don’t need your stinky torches I will break your legs Trash is fish The answer to everything is leather pants Not because it’s the sand castle you deserve, but it’s the sand castle I need! What did you do, Joe…. It's FINE, everything's FINE Lovely Silly I mean... Not gonna lie... To be fair...

Cub DA CREAMADA CROP Alright guys Nice, nice Ladies and gentlemen / ladies and gentlemen, we got ‘em Eeeeasy money Beautiful, absolutely beautiful Mmmmmhmmmmmm Holy smokes Let's goooo! Sweet Oh, baby! Man, oh man Without further ado Peace out Cheers / cheers, man There's some heat coming off that thing

Doc Are you kidding me now? Alright guys Can’t touch this The G.O.A.T. Etho, get to the damn land man! It all started when Grian touched my redstone… Epic

Etho Uh-huh Like-a so Oh snap Get your snacks! Holy smokes! Take care, have a good day, bye bye Aww snappers! Aww yeah Von Sway I barely know ‘er! Speaking of llamas Bright blue bamboo E. to the T. to the your mum Beefaroni / Beefers Speaking of llamas… That’s what she said! Free glass Eyy, I go up and I go down. Ladders! / Eyy, ladders! Suckerrrr! Check it out

False Blimey Awh dude Frick False Supremacy Oh my goodness I don't know about you guys, but... Props to __ I'm not gonna lie...

Gem Gem is great Her [name] is [adjective]! Gem will __ ("Gem will watch Impulse") Perfect! Epic It's true, I swear! Not gonna lie... Oh gosh! Trust the process Nailed it!

Grian Hello! My name is Grian Good… byeeeee! Pesky bird My heart! My little heart! Mumbo Mumbo you are AFK Can we just agree that Mumbo loses? What in Queen Elizabeth’s shiny crown was that? It wasn't me, it was the man in the chicken costume! SaAaaaAaAnd Chobblesome SCAR NO— / NO SCAR— In theory… Electric boogalooo What does this button do? What on earth? This is in shambles Get outta here! Hear me out... We don't have __. What we DO have is __ Just straight up Without further ado Crack on Bingo bango Yes. 100%

Hypno Right, right Mmhmm You guys Dang guy

Impulse What’s goin on everyone? Shovel Shuffle BEHIND YOU GEM! Peeps Geez Let's goooo! Are you kidding me? Oh, man Now we're talkin'! Holy smokes Oh my gosh How cool is that? Jeez! Dang it! Buddy Presi (for present) You bet!

Iskall Hallo -skall ("richskall") That’s mega / that’s looking absolutely mega Omega “Excuse me? Sir?” __ of doom Okay, lol And I will see you dudes in the next episode I’ve had a realization Oh for goodness sake! It’s not fat, it’s big-boned Not gonna lie SaAaaaAaAnd Very fine Great success! Bird poop Bumbo Cactoni Do you even bust? / Do you even bust bro E Pag

Jevin Hypno smells! Oh my god Sucker What the heck Dude Man I swear

Joe Howdy y’all! That’s the Joe Hills difference! I will now say a poem of my own devising Core concept Keep adventurin’! Time skip! Who’s the guy who conquers death? That’s Joe Hills No not rage quitting I have to pick up my daughter from school or my wife will rage quit me! Grow Hills / Expand Joe Joepacity / Jhost

Keralis Look into my eyes and nothing but my eyes Wanna buy a book? Spank you very much Just sit back, relax, and enjoy Like this, like that I can see my house from here! Bubbles, Shashwammy, Sweetface, Princess Lookie lookie at my cookie / lookie lookie at my cookie… no, please don’t Like-a so I love your face I’m a real boy! I don’t k-nove (know) Not like this! Booshes Clever girl But first… lemme take a selfie I’m sinking… mayday mayday we’re sinking! Hallo yes dis is de German coast guard what are you sinking about? Scary harry larry I’m alayve! Breathtaking — no you’re breathtaking Mm-kay Oh behave I’m a simple man MeOOOow Welcome to my humble abod-ee Not too shabby My face! My palms are sweaty, mom’s spaghetti Tag 2 Booga Booga Stiffy nipples Batman! First I was afraid, I was petrified...

Mumbo I worry about myself sometimes I'm not really quite sure if I like that or not Yeah… yeah that's looking good… I guess… Dude! Chuffed to bits It’s a bit pants I’m such a spoon Oh my word It’s quite simple, really / it’s actually quite simple Bonkers I’ll catch you in the next one. See ya Off you pop Oh goodness me! Hermit challenges — initiation! All done and dusted To be frankly honest Seriously seriously cool Absolutely nuts I don’t even know what to say Iskall I feel sick Peace, love, and plants Moon’s big Mumbo for Mayor Quite simple

Pearl Lovely Bonkers At this point... Cheeky / you cheeky What's this? Mate

Ren Now we’re cooking with gas / we be cooking with gas today Ladies, get in line! / ladies, gentlemen, everybody get in line! You picking up what I’m putting down My dudes Y’know what I’m sayin’ Coming atcha frommmmmm Dude Coming from left, right, and center Greetings cyberdogs and citizens of the Interwebs, this is Ren-diggity-dog comin at ya in another episode from the Hermitcraft server (ey!) Automagically Jazztastic Janktastic Oh baby Like nobody’s business Looking absolutely magnificent Anyhoozle Twaddle Renstone The Octagon is a well-oiled machine! [word]-age [word]-ation [word]-i (to make things plural You love / hate to see it I'm just sayin' / if you know what I'm sayin' Professional __ Jazz Anyhoozle Exqueeze me? Freakin' Some serious __ What's happenin', baby? Chesticles

Scar Scarred for life Woah, what in the world! It’s gonna be am-ay-zing LOOK at the siiiiize of that Well, hello there my fellow miners and crafters, GoodTimesWithScar here. Welcome back to the wonderful world of Hermits and crafting Don’t forget to subscribe or you might just become scarrrred for life! Looking super fancy Let’s hit super fast build mode! Look at the size of that Appreciate ya Hotguy! Operation: Aquathunder! That’s what she said! Rapscallion You silly goose Oh, sweet baby Jellie! Bayum! / Bam! The bee's knees Easy peasy, orangey squeezy

Stress Are you havin’ a giggle? / are you takin the mic? Mate Oh my god / oh my gosh / oh my good gordons Gorgeous Plonker Geezer Ohhhhh nooooo! Yeeeesshhh I legged it Such a pro / I'm such a pro Proper __ Cheeky Bloke Thingamajig Ain't [word]-age [word]-ies

Tango Happy fun sauce -ificator, -inator, -ness, -tastic Skadoodle Fearsome bunny slippers Noob juice So here’s the deal Holding shift Shwoop Flim flam Poop came out Extra dumb with dumb sauce / __ of extra dumb Flee with extra flee! / fleeing with terror! Boom booms Gah! The dungeon is ready for its next victim Behold! Results may vary! I think my math is correct, but it’s been known to be wrong This is the worst timeline. I hate everything Big no! You— you freak of nature! Jerkface Jerkbutt Excellent How embarassing This is true Zombert Bits This I gotta see! Right in the face! [word] is happening Yeah baby! Stupid jerks Boop This is the best / worst thing ever! Niner niner niner [general unintelligible noises]

TFC What in tarnation! Crap-tacular Humongous Butt-ugly Ugly as sin Oh, goody Ender-twits Bugger Oh, fart For crying out loud

Wels Words are hard If you will Super __

xB Aww yeah Mmkay Son of a biscuit Pretty frickin' __ Man Get frickin' wrecked! Chestacle Dang it Staaph it Oy vey Crap on a cracker Dang it, Bobby! Dang guy

Xisuma Oh goodness me Oh dangit Geez Peeps I’m such a derp Oh my days Chooturial Issooma Allo Woa’ah Brought (instead of bought) My dude Achacha

Zed Hello hello hello A-good a-bye Muckin' about I lied TaaaAAnnGoOOooooOOOo Hu-jah! Pretty darn __ Certainly Rubbish I'm [word]-ing [word] me [word]-iness What happens is... Get kersplatted! Epic Oh my goodness!

More Info

So I'm currently writing a HC fic and realized how little I know about some of the hermits (I unfortunately don't have time to watch all of them), which made it really difficult to depict them properly in my writing. I'm assuming at least some of you might also struggle with this, so, here we are!

If you know of a catchphrase from any hermit from any season, comment, reblog, send me a an ask or dm, dm me on discord, whatever works the best :D

Note: when I say "catchphrase," I mean anything a hermit repeats over an extended period of time. It can be something said during a single season (like "You'll speak when spoken to!" or "Hermit Challenges!"), or something that spans their entire careers (like "Aww snappers!" or "Plonker"). I'm not looking for one-off quotes that are never bought up again — there's some great sources (like @hermitcraft-correct-quotes) for that already :)

Sources (which will hopefully expand with time): This reddit post from four years ago This other reddit post also from four years ago Reddit from three years ago This cute diagram A more up to date source Another Xisuma's dictionary on his website HC character tv tropes page This incredible google doc

[greynatomy]

lucy bronze social media au

face claim - taylor hill

finally finished this

———

liked by user1, user2 and 5,748 others

enews Longtime couple, Y/N Y/LN and Timothée Chalamet have reportedly split, sources say. The couple have been on the rocks for a while after a video of Timothée has been seen circulating the internet getting cozy with a mystery girl.

Read more with the link in our bio!

view all comments

user1 love doesn’t exist anymore

user2 bout time she left him

↳ user9 she was always way out of his league

user3 damn! timmy tim broke up with a whole supermodel for some rando

user4 bet he gon try running back to her in a week

march 17, 2020

liked by user1, user2 and 224,738 others

yourinstagram my favorite sidekick 💙

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user1 she said ‘forget about timmy here’s me and my dog’

user2 so beautiful!

user3 go out with me now that tims not in the picture

liked by user1, lucybronze and 746,804 others

yourinstagram beach bum 🌞

view all comments

user1 great view, but i prefer to look into your eyes

user2 u got a little sand on you

user3 where is this bikini from?!

june 25, 2020

liked by user1, user2 and 12,474 others

tmz Y/N Y/LN seen holding hands with a new partner just months after her breakup with longtime boyfriend- now ex - timothée chalamet, in manchester, united kingdom.

click the link in our bio to read more!

view all comments

user1 she’s back!

user2 she’s already with someone else? girl is going around

↳ user3 tim moved on while in a relationship bffr

↳ user4 it’s been six months that’s a long time

september 5, 2020

liked by user1, user2 and 5,637 others

enews Y/N Y/LN just deactivated her instagram account just before the new year starts!

click the link in our bio to read more!

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use3 what? no!

user4 good! she wasn’t good enough for timothee anyway!

↳ user5 girl bffr he cheated on her. good for her for leaving!

user6 hope she comes back soon!

december 31, 2020

liked by gigihadid, taylorswift and 10,748 others

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user1 IS THAT A RING?

user2 miss girl comes back from the dead and just drops a pic

enews Y/N Y/LN engaged? click our bio to find out more!

↳ user3 she’s not back more than 5 seconds and you already have an article up

↳ user4 fr give her a break

march 10, 2023

liked by alexiaputellas, leahwilliamsonn and 11,748 others

view all comments

user1 wait… are these wedding photos??

user2 did she get married?

user3 what’s with the no caption post again??

tmz click the link in our bio to find out more out more on this marriage

↳ user4 you and enews need to fuck off!

user5 what’s the barca and england team doing in the likes??

april 22, 2023

liked by lucybronze, gigihadid and 5,839,648 others

yourinstagram @/victoriasecret world tour is out now!

loved to be in wings again 👼

view all comments

lucybronze ❤️❤️❤️

↳ yourinstagram ❤️❤️❤️

gigihadid so glad to share the vs runway with you again!

↳ yourinstagram love ya gi!

user1 are we just gonna ignore her last two posts??

user2 acting like she didn’t break the internet

user3 what is lucy bronze doing here?

↳ user4 and most of the barca and england team liking??

may 15, 2023

liked by user1, user2 and 5,738 others

ynupdates yn seen at the barcelona women’s game with a friend!

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user3 has she been in barcelona this whole time??

↳ user4 is that why paps haven’t been able to find her?

user5 since when was she into sports?

user6 guys i’m at the same place as her right now and she’s in the friends and family section!!

↳ user7 OMGG WHO IS SHE THERE FOR

↳ user8 IS SHE A WAG? FOR WHOOOOO?????

liked by user1, user2 and 7,748 others

enews Y/N Y/LN spotted in public after 2 years since deactivating instagram. Since activating her account again, it has been scrubbed of all posts except some new ones which look to be about her wedding. Y/N Y/LN is a very taken woman ladies and gents.

Click the link in our bio to read more!

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user3 enews is already back on y/n’s tail

user4 she’s in barca’s friends and family section

↳ user5 how do you know

↳ user4 i’ve been to a couple games and that’s where it is

liked by user1, user2 and 5,445 others

ynupdates y/n posted and deleted this video from her insta stories. did she marry a woman? did she have a baby?

view all comments

user3 wouldn’t be surprising if she did. she’s been very open about being bi

↳ user4 didn’t she used to date hailee steinfeld

↳ user5 yeah but she said they were better as friends

user6 no longer supporting y/n

↳ user7 good riddance to you!

user8 if she did have a baby, she really is mother now

tmz can we use this photo?

↳ ynupdates no the fuck you can’t! leave mother alone!

liked by lucybronze, onabatlle and 10,638,637 others

yourinstagram made a little oopsie yesterday so… surprise 🤷🏻‍♀️ @/lucybronze

view all comments

lucybronze love my little family ❤️

↳ yourinstagram i love you 💕

keirawalsh just want to put it out there that i am the favorite aunt

↳ leahwilliamsonn you’re the godmother you don’t get to be the favorite aunt too

alexiaputellas amo a mi pequeña bebé

↳ yourinstagram te amo tia alexia - baby bronze ❤️

↳ user4 omg baby bronze ugh 😩

user1 AHHHH FINALLY

user2 she’s off the market

user3 mother is a MOTHER

1maryearps my favorite milf

[the-midnight-blooms]

sincerely, yours | jyh

pairing: husband!jeong yunho x wife!reader AU: hanahaki au word count: 2.4k ATEEZ as angst tropes series: Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho

masterlist

Trope: Unrequited Love 

Dear Yunho,

I hope this letter find you well, whether you open it now or decades later when you sit at my grave. Perhaps you’ve married again, and another child sits in your arms- I'll never truly know how much I mean to you.

Whoever had said falling in love was a blessing had clearly never fallen in love with the wrong person in their life. Such an astute claim that was. Falling in love was one the worst things that could have ever happened to me, especially since the deadly case of Hanahaki was up for grabs.

I will not sugar-coat it, I love you as dearly as if you are mine. I love you as if I can have you. I love you as if I am entitled to you. I always have, and will until I am torn apart by this wretched illness.

Perhaps she had acted too resistant in the face of love. Acting like it was a sin for women on a dark path, yet at night she dreamed that in the dead of a void her lover would crawl to her and ensnare her in his arms. Pepper her with gentle kisses and unbroken stares. Perhaps that was the reason why Yunho had first been warded away from her, taking on many lovers. Always rushing back to her to tell her how perfect each woman was, how he cherished them, fixing onto their smile, their eyes, their beauty unparalleled. There was something about them that made his heart swoon and something about her that rebuked him.

“Then who will hold you at night, when you are so lonely that you cannot even comfort yourself?” He asked her one evening, sat under a great oak tree heads on each other shoulders; the action itself burning her heart- how she wished he wanted her the same way she wanted him. You. Will you not hold me? Will you not shield from the terrors of this world that I am so frightened against?

He had come to her in the torpidity of the night, finally, heart yearning as he realised that where he should have spoken aloud his lovers name, he said hers. Where his lover should have been soaring through his dreams, carrying his child, plastering kisses all over his face, running down the sand on the crust of the roaring sea; it was her.

"Yunho? What's wrong?" With watery eyes he stared down at her, body wracking with sobs.

"It's you. You're all I have ever wanted."

Who should I blame for being so devoted to you? I can’t blame myself, I’m sorry. It hurts too much and already the bronchi of my lungs have been replaced with the sturdy branches of a willow tree. Flowers now bloom on the membrane of cells, tissues all compressed between saccharine petals. You may laugh at my poetry but you adored it once. After all, once our souls were bound in holy matrimony, did I not gift you a poem every anniversary? Did you not read those words aloud me under the cover of the night, as if it was your soul speaking to me and not I?

An ecru, vintage radio sat perched upon the wooden worktop, in an equally old kitchen on the outskirts of the country. Just two miles below, down the grassy hilltop lead to the sea-the rush of the tides blanketing the sand, drawing it towards the deep. Delicate waves enveloped each other, producing a cacophony of sounds that drowned out the hum of the radio. The humidity of the kitchen suffocated her, as the flames of the oven whispered to the baked good blemishing it with a golden-brown that would soon prompt her to pull it from the rack. Wandering to the front porch, she followed her lover's figure saunter up the hill-his pace increasing as she opened her arms out for him. Swooping her up from the ground, he spun her around in the air-his tight grip central around her waist. A shriek escaped from her lips as he did so. Gently, he put her down, the couple laughing synchronously as she dragged him into the kitchen. Flopping down onto the chair, Yunho went straight to the radio-sitting on top of the worktop, fiddling with its button an array of tunes inbounding the pale kitchen walls. Settling upon a popular Latin song, he got off the countertop- beginning to sway his hips to the music. When his movements became much more faster and fluid, she could not help but erupt in a fit of laughter. He reached out for her hands, enamouring her hands within his.

"You know I can't dance." He laughed, recalling the memory where she almost tripped on her wedding dress in front of a crowd of people gawking at them during the first dance. Turning the dial, he rested his hands on her waist gazing down at her. Resting her chin on his chest she peered up at him with her own doe eyes. Remaining in each other arms as the world swept by, wind rushing in from the window lace curtain fluttering in the breeze. A sweet smell drove out from the oven, she hastily pried herself from his embrace grabbing the tea towel.

"What have you got in the oven?" he pondered, as she went to her knees opening the oven door. A small smirk formed on her lips. He looked over her shoulder. "Buns?" Holding back giggles, she composed herself before looking up at him with a deadpan face nodding dubiously.

"Interesting choice. I thought you were baking a cake. Never mind, these are nice." He rambled as she flipped over the buns onto the wire rack, leaving them to cool. "How long were they in the oven for?" He winced slightly as he tried to reach for one, sharply retracting his hand away as the hot surface lacerated his finger.

"About four-five weeks." He gave her a confused look, as she turned around meandering to the living room. Five weeks? He looked back at the buns. He knew croissants often took three days to make, but five weeks for buns? As if a switch had flicked in his head, he stuck his head in the living room doorway.

"We have a bun in the oven?" Nodding, he swept her off the floor like a bride, spinning her around in his arms as if she weighed nothing to him. "WE HAVE A BUN IN THE OVEN!"

You may have once told me you adored me, but you no longer do now.

She recalled staring down at the loose petal of a bright pink dicentra flower in her fingers, blood splattered across the crystal white sink in her bathroom. A strangling sensation fulfilled her throat, slumping onto the lid of the toilet seat. Beads of sweat formed across her forehead, the cogs in her brain stopping for a split second as fatigue gnawed at her. The pounding on the bathroom door startled her, shoving the pink petal in her pocket- she opened the tap using her fingers to scrub away the splatter of her blood that remained on the sink. Looking down she found her niece peering up at her with her wide eyes and an innocent face, her little lips lightly gaped as she took in her auntie's dishevelled state. Lifting up her niece in her arms, she pecked her chubby cheeks a giggle eructed from her as she walked into her bedroom. Yunho sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his work tie a sheepish smile of his face. Nari's short arms held out for her uncle, in a disinterested manner Yunho took her from his wife's hold, lazily entertaining his niece.

"You could at least pretend to be happy when you play with Nari." His wife taunted, late at night in a hushed tone as her niece fell into a deep slumber.

"She's not my child, I don't see why." A loud thud echoed in the room as he dropped his phone onto the night stand.

"Yunho." she snapped, eyebrows furrowed in anger. He never was like this, something had happened after her miscarriage. Like a lever had been pulled, refiguring his kind-hearted nature into a malicious monster. It struck her heart with fear, that now that she could not give him a child-he longer wanted her. "She is still a baby, how would you like it if someone did that to your child?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't have one, do I?" As if a blow had been struck against her, she rolled her body in the opposite direction, in the bed, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Why are you holding it against me? She wanted to say. A deep sigh escaped from his lips, he indolently patted his wife's shoulder as if it would compensate for the damage ensued by his apathy. Erupting in a harsh fit of coughs, a current of petals flew from her mouth blessing the earth beneath.

To ask me stop loving you is like asking for the earth to stop orbiting the sun. To ask me is to tell me to stop breathing. Oh my darling, my lover divine, I wish I could. No matter what I do, you won’t love me back. So I plead of you to acknowledge my suffering. To know that others may blame you for the way you taunted me. Because I never meant anything more to you than someone to fill your lonely nights when nobody else wanted you.

Over the subsequent months, her health had deteriorated significantly which had not gone unnoticed by her husband. Her eyes had sunken into its pockets, painted by dark circles highlighting the restless nights where the pain denied her sleep.

"You never told me what the doctor said." Nailing her eyes to the chopping board, the knife cut fluently down at the fruit sweeping it up in a plastic container. She hadn't told Yunho, it was Hanahaki. Neither could she forget the pitying look in the doctor's eyes when she revealed it to her. A married woman suffering from Hanahaki? Just how cruel could the world get?

"They're just running some blood tests. They haven't got back to me on the results, it's probably nothing. If it was important they would have called me." Yunho frowned, as he put his lunchbox in his bag. Walking with him to the foyer, he kissed her forehead before leaving to walk to his car parked on the drive way. The pain in her chest alleviated but not so much that she did not sink to knees when the car pulled out from the driveway heaving for air as she felt her lungs being pierced by the abrasive bark of a tree.

Where petals had drifted out of her mouth, flowers now bloomed. For one evening, Yunho came back home from work finding his wife draped over their shared bed- lips shrouded with petals. flowers at her neck. Concerned he shook her awake, with bleary eyes she sat up fingers pressing into her temples. Lifting up the petals with his slender fingers, he stared at her with a questioning look he only hoped she'd catch. Though no words had left her, she did not know what to say. He was not supposed to find out like this.

"I have Hanahaki disease, Yunho." she breathed out, her coarse voice prescient. An spectral silence befell amongst the couple, what else was there to say? The situation spoke for itself. "I just want to know, at what point in our lives did you stop loving me?"

“I didn’t know that I had fallen out of in love with you, because I still feel comfort when you’re there." He spoke slowly, a desperate attempt at piecing together the right words as he tried to come to terms with the fact he was the one who had caused her poor condition. "Sometimes I only feel myself entitled to breath when I look at you.” As if that was the cure, a declaration of love-those menial words that had put her in this position in the first place.

“Then why am I dying? Why is this disease tearing me apart? You’re killing me, Yunho.”

“Don’t say that.” He shook his head profusely, tears brimming at the front of his perfect eyes. "Don't say that, please." Her husband begged, pressing his palm to his lips to prevent the grievous dissonance of his sobbing.

“What else would you like me to say? That I am the disloyal one? And I am in love with another who cannot love me back? Be fucking realistic, I have been in love with you a lot longer than you have been in love with me.” Her body trembled with the cold, her own tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't try to hold back the distressing sound as he had. Leaning her head back on the headboard. "What about me disgusted you? What about me made me so unworthy of your love?"

"I wanted a child." Grabbing the pillow, she plundered it against his head as hard as she could. Lunging at him, the collar of his shirt balled up into fists, his slender body oscillating back and forth as she screamed out her soul.

"It's not my fault I cannot conceive! If you had known that before marriage would you have never married me? Would you have never loved me? Is that all a woman means to you? A machine to give birth, or an object to satisfy your desires?" Letting go off his shirt, she subsided into the silk pillows bawling to her heart's content. "Leave Yunho." His breath hitched in his throat. Soundlessly, he got up from the bed trudging towards the doorway, glistening pearls dropping from his porcelain face. He stopped, turning around with a pleading look.

"Leave and if you come back to me- tell me it is because you love me. So much so that it is the ailment to this disease.”

When you did not come back to tell me you loved me, it almost certified the fact that you really had fallen out of in love with me. Perhaps it is better to die than to live a life of solitude, for every day I live I can feel my heart rupturing at the mere sight of you. I wish you find someone to love as much as I love you.

So, one last time before the Angel of Death takes my breath away and draws my soul out of my body: I love you, Jeong Yunho. I love you so much that I have died in your name. I love you so much that if I was given a choice to relive this life again, I would. No matter the pain, no matter the heartache, I would live this life again. All for you.

Sincerely, Yours.

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A/N: i feel like yunho + unrequited love is such a fitting trope for him? Yunho doing the salsa literally came from me and @n0v4t33z talking about how his hips don't lie. ALSO AS A BRIT BUNS ARE CUPCAKES!! when i first heard about 'bun in the oven' i didn't know it was a teacake (burger bun), but i made it one for this fic.

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!