#lots to think about. few to think about this with. my house is filled with The Plague so we're all working at 50% capacity

[astronomodome]

Astronomodome's 2024 US Presidential Election Liveblog

First of all I want to say I have other stuff to work on today so I might not be super up to date with stuff but I'll try my best to give my thoughts as to what's going on.

So first, how do we tell who wins?

In the U.S., the popular vote doesn't decide who wins the presidency. Instead, we use the (much hated) electoral college. Here's a helpful visual.

Every state (and DC) is given at least three electors, usually more based on population (which is why states like California and Texas have so many). There are 538 in total. To win, a candidate needs more than half of these- half of 538 is 269, so a candidate needs at least 270. (Interestingly, it is possible for both candidates to receive exactly 269 electors, in which case the universe corrupts and we all die infinitely the House of Representative chooses who wins, with each state getting one vote.)

The national popular vote may not matter, but the popular votes of each of the states do. Whoever wins the popular vote in each state (except Nebraska and Maine bc they're weird but that's not too important) wins all the electors for that state. It's very all-or-nothing which is why a lot of people don't like it.

This is a map from election forecaster 538, one of many such organizations that use polling and algorithms and election magic or something to predict who is likely to win each state. They have a lot of good graphs and stuff to look at on their site if you want to learn more about the stats of everything. As the key notes, we can see which way each state is expected to vote, as well as a few states highlighted in bold as likely swing states.

Swing states are basically wherever the election is close and the number of electors is high enough to 'swing' the election. Basically, while all the other states are mostly decided based on precedent (though surprises are possible), these states could reasonably go either way. This is why both candidates hold so many rallies in Pennsylvania, for example- it's competitive, and they want to boost their chances of winning those electors by currying favor directly with those voters.

One thing this map doesn't show is what I lovingly refer to as the Bar. It looks like this. I bring it up because if you follow the election news you'll see it. A lot.

The arrows in the middle point to 269.5, the exact midpoint. Whoever reaches that midpoint by filling up the bar wins (the beige in the middle are the tossup states who could go either way).

For example, let's look at 270towin. (the forecast websites love their special numbers.) They have a fun interactive map where you can make the votes go wherever you want to see what would happen.

^ Here's their prediction based on consensus.

^ Here, I changed Florida so it votes blue. Not likely unless I can bribe enough officials to make it so my ballot is the only one that counts (fair and just). We can see that the Bar has shifted, and the blue side has almost reached the arrows. Let's see what happens if we add another blue state. Let's say... Georgia, for example.

Wow! If the states were to vote this way, the Democrats would win, even if all the other undecided states went red. Is it likely? No. But, well, how do we know that?

In short, we don't. But we can guess, and that's what polls are for. There are several different types, but the most important ones for right now are exit polls. They'll start coming out soon, I think. I'm not sure if they have to wait until all the polls close (so people don't see them and decide not to vote or something because of it) but I think they do, at least in some states. Exit polls are conducted right outside of voting locations as voters exit, which makes them more accurate than other polls. They're not free of bias, though, so as always take them with a grain of salt. They're the first indicator we'll have of how it went, but they're not the final numbers.

One ray of hope I want to point out is the currently infamous Selzer Iowa poll (not an exit poll but still relevant). Ann Selzer is a really trusted pollster, known for a long streak of accuracy. She published a poll a day ago that indicated that Harris was beating Trump (!) in Iowa (!!) by 3 points (!!!). Iowa is... not considered a Democratic state; it went for Trump last election by 14 points. So this is really surprising (understatement). And yes, it could mean absolutely nothing... but it certainly shocked a lot of people, including Trump, who tweeted angrily about it.

States count their votes in different ways. Some results will be out within the day, others might take weeks. But usually most states can be 'called' for a candidate before every vote is counted. This is because the leading candidate will have more votes than can be overcome by the other one, even if every vote counted was for them. The important thing is that, as polls close over the next couple hours, they'll be counting. I saw one report that said election officials in Idaho, for example, plan on counting every vote "before they go to bed that night," which I thought was kind of a cute way to put it. Most states will release vote counts in batches or by county, which means that other batches or counties might still be counting as others submit their counts. That last sentence had a lot of 'count' related words in it, huh.

One thing to note about vote counting is that absentee or mail-in ballots often take longer to be received and counted than in-person votes. This can cause a phenomenon called "blue shift"- basically, a lot of mail-in ballots are cast by college students (like me!) or people who live overseas, and those groups tend to vote more Democratic than in-person voters. That means that late in the counting process, totals will often shift more towards the Democratic candidate. Famously, this is how Biden ended up winning Georgia in 2020- initially it was forecasted to remain red, but it inched over slowly as mail-in ballots were received.

So, in short, that's how we figure out who will be president. I'll be keeping track of what happens tonight, but it's very possible we won't know who wins until tomorrow morning or even later. Let's hope for the best :)

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 5 || touya x fem!reader [modern au]

chapter summary: Touya takes a trip down memory lane, reliving all his days as a host and how it changed his world for the worse.

themes: mentions of prostitution, sex, SA, abuse, violence, etc. (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: this one really has heavy themes and I want you all to be aware of the warning cause yeah; oh btw this is fem! reader but all is written in 3rd POV so y/n will be referred to as "she/her"

masterlist

Touya knew about sex when he was a child, and no amount of porn and eavesdropping could make him discover this fact. It wasn't like he accidentally found a stash of porn magazines or DVDs in the house or he walked in on someone doing it. He knew about it when the adults were talking, specifically his grandparents (more like his mom's parents). They were talking about Rei having another child with Enji after Fuyumi, and that's when he heard the word he shouldn't have.

Sex.

He knew about that word when he was tasked to fill out his basic contact information, and what he knew about it was his gender. It took him a bit of searching on a random dictionary to understand what it really was, and he suddenly dropped the book as he covered his mouth in shock. The gasp he was about to let in suffocated him as he deduced things in his head and learned later on how the birth of Natsuo and Shouto changed a lot of things in his perspective.

Sex. Intercourse. Coitus. It was all a chore his parents did to bear an heir for the Endeavor Corp. But for his childish mind, they were trying to replace him, and it made him see red.

He wanted to say he was good enough to be like Enji, to be his successor. But no, Enji rejected the idea of him being the next CEO. For Enji, Touya was not good enough. He didn't need an heir who drives himself mad when he can't achieve perfection. He doesn't need an heir who shows weakness in his sleeve.

It ruined Touya that he couldn't look at relationships the same way as he entered puberty. Whenever he sees a few of his classmates dating or talking about "Hey, I stayed over at my girl's place when her parents were away" or "Well, I couldn't ignore her especially when she's being like that to me," it made him think: Relationships are a facade. Romance is a lie. Virginity is a concept they play to make themselves feel they attained innocence. Pleasure is just the side effect of it, but it's nothing.

------

He was 22 when he agreed with the manager's suggestion to have side work as a host for a club at the Red District every Monday and Friday. Honestly, he half-expected a few customers to ask for a kiss on the first try or even a hug or basically any form of physical intimacy. Surprisingly, most of them only wanted male attention, someone to talk to when they get off work or when things get stressed out, or just a harmless, casual date because they couldn't find a man that would give them the treatment they wanted.

Another thing Touya learned: he didn't have to act like he was so nice like a Prince Charming like some of the hosts do. He was just naturally there, talking when he was supposed to talk and serving them drinks like the gentleman they thought him to be. So there were no hookups or casual sex or any bookings of hotel rooms afterward.

That was until he met his regular customers that things took a downturn for him.

------

1. The one who's visibly disgusted by the man she would be marrying

Touya met her every Friday, and he already knew from the get-go that she was the typical rich daughter who went by her parents' bidding; someone who never touched bad things. Well, except that night. She decided to go to the Red District for the first time and heard about this secret host you can book. He had heard her family name somewhere, probably when he was still in high school since Enji and Rei would have the four of them attend important events. It only occurred to him then how popular she was with the way the other hosts were staring and whispering to themselves.

It was when the other hosts talked to him in the locker room and told him that she was hiding a lot from the media because apparently, she was marrying this famous celebrity producer who went after gravure models; that it was an arranged marriage and she obviously abhorred the fact that she was getting wed off to an old geezer.

When she talked to him about meeting up with her on a Saturday night at a booked hotel room, Touya already knew what she was up to. There was extra money involved, plus her promise that she wouldn't be booking his services after. The arrangement worked well with him, setting aside his personal feelings over the matter, as he had sex with her, making it seem like he knew the ropes when he clearly did not. Everything was all thanks to porn and all those gravure magazines he saw from his classmates in high school.

When she cried afterwards, something about being relieved that she didn't spend her first time with a perverted old man, that was when Touya's heart constricted with heaviness. He didn't understand what he felt back then, but after leaving the hotel, he spent away the last of his expenses drinking and smoking before returning to work like nothing.

------

2. The one whose loneliness cannot be fulfilled by her own husband

He dreaded this one regular, and he wished he told the manager that he didn't want to entertain this woman. The first time she booked Touya, he thought she was just a regular customer who wanted nothing from him until she started placing her hand on his thigh one night, and a few nights after, she asked if they could meet outside. Touya was stressed over her and her silly antics, even though she was just asking him to eat lunch at her recommended fancy restaurants and stroll around town.

Well, it wasn't like she was overly clingy or demanding; it was the fact that Touya had no idea what she had under all that nice adult woman facade. It was only when they met up at a coffee shop that she told him about her circumstances. She said, "My husband and I cannot divorce, and he knew about this arrangement and didn't mind as long as no one knew. I also don't mind since he has been sleeping with other women for as long as I can remember." This irked Touya and reminded him of his parents' arranged marriage. He knew they didn't cheat on each other, but it made him think about how the media and paparazzi painted the Todoroki family as a loving family with toothy grins and blooming flowers.

What made this situation worse for Touya was how the woman decided he meet her every weekend at her shared house with her husband. Touya had already met the man, and he knew from one look that all he cared about was knowing who his wife was sleeping with and reminding him that the two of them were only to have a sexual relationship and nothing else (not like he was looking forward to moving things further with a client anyway).

They would always have sex in the guest room assigned for them, but sometimes the wife would take a risk and have them go all the way to the master's bedroom. She would reason out that it wasn't like her husband was so faithful not to bring women there inside since she caught them before in the said room. Touya learned she was insatiable as hell and would try a lot of her fantasies on him because her husband deprived her of trying out exciting things.

Their last sex was of Touya wrapping her legs around his hips as her back hit the bathroom wall and the hot shower poured down on them. After the high, Touya told her he wouldn't be entertaining her anymore since the risk of their arrangement was catching up on him.

------

3. The one who wanted the boyfriend experience

This one was simple, and Touya kind of liked her because he was able to forget his shitty childhood and family issues. She basically became a friend in many ways, and her reason for hiring Touya was because she wanted the boyfriend experience, kind of like having a secret lover especially now that she had gone adulthood and wanted companionship. Touya wouldn't say it was fun being with her. It was just okay. She would ask him to hold hands or ruffle her hair or tell her the corniest shit that he had ever said (he was still embarrassed remembering it, but he managed to set aside his shame over her.)

It became apparent that something was amiss when she visited on a Friday night, displaying unease and nervousness, punctuating the air with sighs as he handed her the drink. He was about to speak when she blurted out, "There's a guy at work, and he said he saw me with you, and he confessed. He asked me if I wanted to date." Her face was beet red as she made a mess of her hair, probably remembering the said confession in her head. "Dabi-kun, what should I do?! Do you think I'm a good dating material?"

Touya wasn't in love with her, but the way things were happening, there was that familiar feeling again when he had sex for the first time with his first regular. That dark pit in his stomach prompted him to do something bad and run away instead of facing them properly. It was easier to drown everything

He placed the glass on the table and said, "Give it a try. You never know what might happen."

He never saw her after that, and he didn't take customers for a while. He spent his weekends drinking and smoking until he fell asleep.

------

4. The one who struggles with a husband's cuckolding kink

Touya was weirded out by this customer because usually, it was only the woman who stayed in the room waiting for him as he served them one of his best alcohol concoctions. It was on a Monday night when he had a married couple as his client. Great. Before, it was often the wife who came in here. Now, they bring their husbands into the mix, he thought bitterly as he sat on the couch. At first, it was awkward with the way the wife was trying to lighten up the mood by telling fun stories as her husband drank and watched them from the corner. Honestly, Touya could not care. At least he was getting his usual drink. If this evening turned out shitty, then so be it.

Suddenly, the husband stood up and knelt traditionally (seiza-style), bowing before Touya as he begged, "Please have sex with my wife!"

The wife went to his side as Touya stopped midway from his drink, his mood worsening as he was yet again reminded of this one regular. However, this time he thinks it is different as the wife assures him there is no need for him to kneel and beg because she can do fine without sex, which the husband is opposed to. And the two went on to discuss his cuckolding kink, how he would only get turned on and have sex with her once he was done having sex with someone else.

Touya narrowed his eyes in disgust, leaning on the couch as his cold voice cut through the conversation.

"Aren't you two being rude?"

The couple were ashamed, bowing at him for their lack of respect and quickly explaining about the matter at hand. According to the couple, they've been having problems in the sex department because of the husband's cuckolding kink, something about getting turned on by the fantasy of his wife having sex with someone. Touya obviously groaned in disgust and was about to protest, dismissing their request and not wanting to partake in their weird shenanigan, something about the charade setting him off even further than before. The husband wanted him to have sex with his wife just so he could take her afterward. How revolting. Why did the manager let them in this place?

"This will only happen once, please!" The husband added. "We will make a formal contract." Then he gave him his business card. "You can call me if you change your mind."

Of course, Touya doesn't call him. He doesn't care. He will do the usual. Yeah, he tells himself this as he realizes he needs more stash of money so he can live for the next month (not like he was running out; he was just being careful.) So he finally succumbs to temptation and calls the man up, meeting them in a fancy restaurant as Touya read through the contents of the contract.

The contract was fair and just for all parties, though. For one, the husband will not watch or record Touya and his wife having sex or any act similar to the matter. It also indicated that this would only be a one-time thing between the three of them and Touya will be paid a hefty amount on the same day the act will commence. Touya also added a few things in the agreement, which included no BDSM or anything similar and that he would not be doing any acts that would "impregnate" the wife (since a few of his customers before liked the idea of breeding, and he didn't love it.)

When all was said and done, Touya got into the business and did everything like how he did before, masking all his emotions and pretending there was so much pleasure and thrill in embracing another man's wife when there wasn't. It was vile even, knowing that the husband was willing for his wife to be disrespected just so he could give her the love she deserved. The worst part? She liked touching him, hugging him close as he thrust even further, or kissing his lips like she owned him. Touya wanted to push her away and tell her, this was just sex and she was crossing some sort of boundary. Then again, she was a customer. It's not like he hadn't been paid to give a kiss before.

Afterwards, he took a shower and left without a word, carrying the check with a large sum as he headed to the bank that day. Touya slept that night convincing himself everything was a nightmare; a horrible shit he went through because he needed to survive.

------

5. The one who likes sharing everything with her bestfriend

Touya had been hearing stories from other hosts about some customers booking them together and having awesome threesomes, that there was no greater feeling in the world than having more than one woman with you in bed. He wished he had the same sentiment because honestly, he doesn't find what's so fun about threesomes. It was tiring and disgusting beyond means, and he still couldn't fathom the fact of sharing a lover with another in bed. Gross. Gross. GROSS.

But he had to experience it because of two women; one, a sultry vixen who believes the world is in the palm of her hands, the other an alluring shadow of her own existence competing to be in the spotlight. The first one meets Touya every Monday and the other on Fridays, and he could see a recurring pattern in the way they both lead conversations. The vixen liked herself so much, and it was apparent. So apparent Touya could even bring a tall mirror and face it on her so she would brag about how this one guy tried to seduce him at the bar a few nights ago or when her co-worker's boyfriend tried to date her in secret. She would even mention being scouted as a model but rejected all offers as she wanted to be an IT developer.

On the other hand, her bestfriend was shy but nonetheless had this air of confidence. Touya could even remember how one of the staff members asked him about her because the guy genuinely was attracted to the way she was so elegant and dainty. Her posture screamed princess vibes as she held her glass of champagne and talked to Touya about her modeling job. Touya could even tolerate this one better than the other as she wasn't being a bitch when they have an actual conversation (because he swore he dreaded every Monday seeing her).

Until one time, the two of them asked him to have sex with each of them on different days as a part of his off-duty job. Touya was already guessing, "They're gonna invite me to a threesome soon" because the way they had sex with him was always "Did she do this to you?" or "Am I more fun than her?" like they were openly comparing themselves to each other to him. And he knew they talked about it. There was no doubt.

And they did. They invited him because they shared things with each other. Because they liked the same guys. They hated the same guys. They loved the same things. They also hated the same things. They're twins from different mothers, and Touya only wished that this whole shit would go down the drain and this would be the last he would have them, thrusting up and down as the two women ground their pussies on his shaft. Their throaty moans were getting mixed in, and he bit his lip to hide his moan because there was no way he liked this. He hated this. Hated everything with every fiber of his being.

After the whole stint, Touya finally handed in his resignation letter and left. He was tired of pleasing people; weary from all this nasty chore he had been doing for the sake of living in hell.

------

Touya later learns that love and sex can coexist. When he encountered his (only) ex-girlfriend while working as a bartender at Shigaraki's bar, he found himself perplexed about how to navigate this new dynamic. They initially started as smoking buddies in the back of the building, exchanging crude jokes until they eventually exchanged phone numbers. He genuinely enjoyed spending time with her, but eventually, their connection faded into nothing.

Fun. It was what they only had next to nothing.

Her name was Ruka, and she had her long dark hair dyed blonde as she dressed in the same black outfits as him but feminine. She was all guts and foul curses, her red lips smirking teasingly. He knew from the moment they put a label on what they were that she would expect a lot from him as her boyfriend. Dates. Movies. Late-night talks. Smoking and drinking together. Hugging. Holding hands. Having sex. Touya tried his best to be the boyfriend she wanted even though he had zero idea of how to be one, and he believed at the time it was because they were dating. It turned out to him that he was simply repeating the same train of thought.

Dating is a chore. Sex is a chore. Relationships are nothing but a chore.

He was simply doing everything out of responsibility, not fully caring about himself or how Ruka would feel. He was a tad selfish that they fought a lot and he didn't swallow his pride or compromise even. He would go about his way proving his point and if he didn't, he would slam the door and leave for days, spending his nights at the bar and making it his new home. Ruka also held her pride so high she didn't even find him or apologize, and they would fall into this toxic pattern of seeing each other again after a few weeks then making out and having sex and brushing everything under the rug because emotions are getting into the way of their fun. There was no way they were ruining whatever this relationship was for a sappy one-on-one of calling each other out and promising to do better.

Touya didn't change, and he grew tired of being her dream boyfriend. He still leaves his clothes on the floor. He doesn't tell her where he went. He never goes the mile to update her. He drops by her space whenever he wanted to despite her telling him to just move in. He ghosts her and then comes back like nothing.

He was being pathetic, and she was being overbearing. She cries, thinking he will relent when he sees her tears. It doesn't change his mind though. He just gets worse. They would throw things at each other and curse. They would raise their middle fingers. They would throw hands and he'd give a punch in exchange for her slaps and hits.

Touya just left and never came back after.

------

"She was a lot different," Touya mentioned his girlfriend (the current one he thinks about so often) again to his therapist. "I know I told you this before, but the first time we did it, everything just made sense."

He didn't know how. He just felt it. It all came full circle. That morning had him almost running in fear, scared at the thought of going deeper with her because he knew he would hurt her. He will not give her whatever she wants. Those dreamy things from romance mangas? Those corny lines from romantic movies with sappy storylines? Consider them all trashed. There was no way he would give in.

But Touya will stay around. He knew to himself that he would die the moment this shit was all over; that she had changed her mind and wanted those romantic stints from the screens. But staying around didn't do it for him—especially for her. Just because he stayed around didn't mean he got what he wanted. He loved her, so, so much; yet she was sleeping with a man who's a figment of his own false identity. It was toying him upside down, especially with the way she looked at him with adoration and pure sincerity when he knew it wasn't really him.

"I want her to love me," he stressed out. "Only me."

next chap

masterlist

[shieldofiron]

I just wanted you to know that I am never not thinking about your harringrove frat au 🥰 and so I was wondering, would you ever tell us more about the first time steve & billy met/interacted in this au?? 🥺

I would LOVE TO. A little bit of a shout out in here to the TV show Greek, which I rewatched just the other day.

——

Billy was sweating like a whore in Church.

The group was loosely walking together in groups of twos and fours, everyone’s hands stuffed in their pockets.

And in front of him the guy laughed. Billy’s mind went blank, filled with creamy mole speckled skin and big brown eyes.

He wasn’t the tallest guy, either. Just the right height that they could hold hands or kiss without-

Billy had to stop that line of thinking then and there.

The buy stated lagging behind, long Bambi legs slowing until Billy and Argyle had caught up to him.

“Hi! I’m Steve Harrington,” he waved when he said it, like a dad at a barbecue. Billy immediately wanted to tongue him down from head to toe.

“Ey, Brochacho. I’m Alejandro Hernandez Aguilar but everyone calls me Argyle. This is Billy,” Argyle patted Billy’s chest.

“Hargrove.” Billy grunted.

“So who do you think you want to rush?” Steve stuffed his hands into the pockets of his puffy vest, grinning like a politician.

Argyle looked at Billy first, which sucked ass because all the words had just fled him in the headlights of those big Bambi eyes.

“Probably Alpha… uh Alpha Tau. Argyle’s a legacy,” Billy muttered.

“We’re kind of a package deal,” Argyle said with a smile.

“How about you?” Billy said it way too fast, wanting to keep Harrington around a little longer.

“I’m a legacy at Alpha. And Lambda Chi, uh, cuz of my granddad. But I’m actually interested in the next house.”

“Theta Pi Sigma,” the leader’s voice boomed from the front.

The house looked a lot tougher than some of the others. The white paint was peeling, and one of the letters by the door was hanging upside down. The leader rang the doorbell and then made his way slowly out of the crowd, looking weird as hell.

A skinny guy came out of the house, “Hey rushes. Welcome to Theta. First of all, does anyone know of our reputation?”

Hands rose around them. Argyle went to raise his hand but Harrington reached out and held it down.

“Great. All those with your hands raised. Go the fuck home,” the guy grinned.

Everyone hesitated.

“Go!”

The guys raising their hands scattered, leaving Billy and Argyle, Harrington of course, a tall, nerdy looking guy with long curly dark hair, and a twink with short blonde hair.

“The rest of you,” the skinny guy opened the door, “welcome.”

The house, which had looked empty and somewhat dark from the outside, was in the full swing of a party. A few guys by the door cheered, gesturing that they should all come inside.

“I heard they liked virgins,” Harrington was right next to Billy’s ear eliciting a shiver.

“This house doesn’t look like a virgin’s been inside since 1985,” Billy joked.

Harrington threw an arm around Billy’s shoulder, pinning him with those big beautiful brown eyes. “Oh, I fuckin’ like you, Billy Hargrove.”

[transmasc-rose]

Amy/Rory I Saw the TV Glow au:

Amy as Maddy/Tara, who ran away and never came home, who talks about things that can't be real (the TV show, the TARDIS, a world where they're strong, a world where they're something better).

Rory as Owen/Isabel, meek and yet loyal and yet terrified of his best friend and what she means. And what she says. And what she shows him.

Doctor Who, the TARDIS, the Doctor, all wrapped up into the role of the Pink Opaque, the TV show from their youth, and something Amy grasps onto and never let's go. Something Rory abandons for a normal life.

And yet.

[emometalhead]

.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Eyes Only For You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

“Hey, baby” You say smiling walking into the kitchen greeting your boyfriend who you missed so much after a whole day filled with meetings.

Lando was free for another week before returning to the races, and you really had a lot of work to do the whole week. You had a lot of meetings and events to attend so you’ve been out of the house and even out of the town most of the time.

You hated it when Lando was free and you had a lot of work to do and couldn't take full advantage of his rare free time. And so when such days happen, you always rush home at the end of the day, eager to see him and cuddle him and just rest in his arms.

That's how you thought it would be this evening too, but as soon as you entered the room and saw that Lando didn't even turn to you when you greeted him, you immediately felt that something was up.

“Hi” He says apathetically looking for something in the fridge and not paying attention to the fact that you finally came home after being away all day.

He was angry. You read it right away. You could tell by his tone, but you decided to ignore it at first.

You walked up to him from the other side of the kitchen island and hugged him from behind while he was still standing in front of the fridge looking into it.

“Where is Mila?” You ask.

Oh, and you were also babysitting Mila for the night. His brother and sister in law and Mila were in town so you offered to watch her tonight so they could have some time to themselves and go on a date.

“She fell asleep in the living room a little while ago.” He said not engaging in further conversation.

“I missed you today” You say leaving a small kiss against his bare back.

“Yeah? How was your day?” He asks taking the salad dressing from the fridge and walking up to the kitchen island where his chicken salad was.

“It was..hectic.” You say looking at him. “Been waiting to come home to you.” You say softly trying to get anything out of him, but failing when he continues to be silent and ignore you focusing on making his salad.

“Lan? Is everything okay?” You finally ask.

“Well,” He sighs and somewhat aggressively throws the soiled fork into the kitchen sink making you wince slightly. “It was up until two hours ago when some pictures of you from the Boss Show in Milan emerged.”

“What pictures?” You ask confused, immediately going over the events of that day in Milan in your head.

He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, unlocks it and throws it in front of you on the surface of the kitchen island. “Care to explain?”

You stare at the picture on his cell phone of you and Michele Morrone and you immediately remember the situation you had with him that day that you were not even aware that someone had taken a picture of it and published it on the Internet.

In the picture, you were leaving the fashion show and he was grabbing your elbow. You met him for the first time that day and you talked about nothing more than the looks from the show, but it was quite obvious to you that he was indirectly hitting on you here and there. You grabbed his attention and he didn't spare you a few compliments, but at no point did you give him reason to think you were interested in him.

When you were leaving the fashion show, you didn't even know that he came out after you. He grabbed your elbow before you walked over to the waiting car and asked if he could have your number to which you replied that you have a boyfriend and that you’re in a happy relationship.

“Oh my God..” You sigh before explaining what exactly happened in the picture.

“Did you give him your number?” Lando asks even though you had said you didn’t.

“Of course I didn’t, Lando?” You say a bit offended that he even had to ask such a thing.

“Why didn't you tell me right away instead of me having to look at the pictures of my girlfriend with that fucking- porn actor?”

“I don’t ever tell you when things like that happen because I don’t care about that stuff and because I’m not interested in anyone but you!”

“What the fuck? What do you mean ‘when things like that happen’? Do guys hit on you a lot?”

“Lando..please” You were already getting exhausted from this kind of conversation. You considered it so unimportant that you almost forgot it happened, but you could understand why Lando was upset about it.

“No, tell me, y/n!”

“Yes, guys do hit on me, but I never ever respond to any of that in any kind of way whatsoever!”

“Oh, that’s really nice. Very comforting.” He says sarcastically.

“What? Am I so unattractive that it comes as such a surprise to you?”

“No, fuck..of course not. I just-“ He sighs running his hands through his hair. “I just thought everyone knew you were mine..”

“Lando, as long as I know that I’m yours, it doesn’t matter what other guys think or try to do. And I can’t believe that you would even think that I was doing something behind your back. I can’t believe you don’t trust me, Lando?” It hurt you because you never gave him a reason to doubt you. Your relationship was pure and full of love for each other. Topics like this have never even been in the conversation.

He deeply sighs again and steps closer to you cupping your face making you look up at him. “It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s others. I don’t want someone to steal you from me. I’m sorry”

“That could never happen.” You say looking up at him.

He pulls your face closer to his wanting to kiss you, but you move your head to the left avoiding the kiss.

“I’m going to change. I’m tired.” You move away from him and go to your shared bedroom.

Your mood was no longer up to par and you weren't as happy and excited as you were half an hour ago and you blamed Lando for that. On the one hand, you understood him, but on the other hand, you couldn't believe that he doubted you even for a slight moment.

It especially hurt you because you knew that girls are hitting on him every chance they get and that they obsess over him all the time not caring in the slightest that he has a girlfriend and yet you never showed him it bothered you because you know he only has eyes for you.

You took a quick shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Although you were still sad about the things that went down with Lando, you wanted to see Mila and hang out with her in case she woke up because it was only 7 p.m. so you headed to the living room shortly after taking the shower.

You knew she was awake when you approached the living room and heard Lando and her chatting about the Minions that Lando had turned on on the TV. It was more of Lando's favorite cartoon than Mila’s honestly. You walked over closer and saw Lando

Lando was lying on the couch and Mila was lying next to him with her head resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her. The sight melted your heart. You loved their relationship. You loved seeing him spend time with her and bond and you loved the way she loved him.

“Auntie!!” Mila exclaimed when she saw you.

“Hey, cutie” You smiled at her sitting on the couch next to Lando and giving her a hug. “Are you guys watching the Minions?”

“Yess!!” She said excitedly.

“Wanna join us?” Lando asked, his eyes pleading for you to say yes.

You nodded your head bringing a huge smile to Lando's face. He opened his free arm for you so you can cuddle up to him. When you laid your head against his chest as well as Mila, he tightly wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head quietly whispering “I’m sorry”

You just looked up at him and kissed his chin without saying a word.

Halfway through the movie, Mila slowly began to fall asleep again. Lando was gently rubbing her back the whole time and when he would stop for a moment she would startle and say "Lala, more" so Lando had to continue until she fell asleep and you just found his gesture so adorable.

“I can't wait to see you like this with our own baby.” You said softly.

“What? Are you-?”

“I’m not pregnant, Lan” You chuckled. “I’m just saying, one day I hope.”

“You want babies with me?” He asked his fingers playing with your hair and looking into your eyes as you lifted your gaze up.

“Of course I do. I think about it often.” You admit that every now and then you find yourself daydreaming about your perfect little family and it makes you so excited about the future.

“Yeah? I do too, baby. I dream of holding you both just like this, waking up next to you, taking care of you.” He says pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Should we make it a reality soon?”

“I think we should, Lan”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Imagine another soldiers GF is visiting him and Konig sees her and is like "My GF now" what is he gonna do? Challenge the 7 ft. Tall killing machine?

Visiting Paul wasn't the sanest thing you did - and not the proudest of your moments, too. Your relationships started to crack a while ago, not helped by the rumors his squad buddies are spreading whenever you're in the earshot or Facetiming him. You just wanted to give him a visit, maybe woo him over with some homemade goods, and maybe be a normal boyfriend and girlfriend again. Maybe. You didn't expect his colonel to give you such a scolding. "You know that poisoning the troops is a war crime, ja?" You're terrified. His colonel is fucking huge, has a creepy name - seriously, what did he do to be named King instead of Potato or a Shrimp - and has that weird boyishly rough voice that lools you into the sense of security, only for it to be broken the second he laughs, tearing into the dumb box filled with dumb cookies you made for Paul and some of his squadmates. You had friends at his station, you thought you could just get in without the bureaucracy bullshit - only closest family members are allowed here, and you are quite certain that your boyfriend won't wife you up anytime soon. "It's not poison, s...sir" "I look like a sir to you, Maus? Call me colonel" You want to answer that he looks like a fucking nightmare crawling out of your bad dreams, but you bite your tongue. Don't even resist as Konig gets his huge gloved hands into the box, slowly taking one of the cookies. You whimper as he snaps the thing in half - hours of hard work, you can already see them being trashed away all because Paul didn't respond to your calls and didn't pick them up immediately and because he didn't mention his colonel is going to be on the base and- Konig gets one of your cookies under his hood, the sounds of munching like music to your ears - an angel's horn, maybe, the ones that play during the apocalypse. You wait patiently to be prosecuted for your crimes - the ones you aren't quite sure you even committed, to be honest. "You'll do. Horangi will show you to my quarters." You think you're hearing things. Maybe, you somehow managed to hit your head on the way to the colonel's office, and now you're hallucinating the entire encounter? The colonel stands up - he is huge, god, too fucking tall to even be alive, you think - and drops a heavy hand on your shoulder, patting you almost awkwardly. You hate the way he looks at you right now - almost soft, almost gentle, his hand squeezes your skin in a way that is way more loving than your boyfriend ever did before, and you feel pathetic for leaning into the touch, if only for a second. You didn't know that Konig got his eye on you even before you went to the base. He knows a lot about his soldiers, and your sorry fuck of a boyfriend clearly didn't deserve a sweet little thing like you - for fucks's sake, you literally just brought homemade cookies to the military base; how much more of an angel you can be. He also knew that you're not quite satisfied with the relationships if he can judge by how much bitching Paul is letting out during his free time. Konig also knows that if he gets you to marry him as soon as possible, sooner he could put you in his house and make you bake him cookies every day of his retirement - that doesn't seem like such a bad opportunity now, not if he would have a pretty housewife attached to his hip. And if you don't really want to be with him, well... Nothing that a few weeks of extensive home training couldn't fix.

[derinwrites]

Plotting a story -- inductive and deductive plotting

When it comes to plotting habits in writing fiction, there’s a scale. Most people label the ends of this scale ‘gardener’ and ‘architect’, although the terms ‘plotter’ and ‘pantser’ are also in use. If you’re a writer, you probably know this scale, but I’ll briefly explain for those who haven’t and then get into my model.

An architect, or plotter, is a writer who thrives with a lot of planning. Like an architect planning a house, they assess what story they’re telling in advance and what needs to happen to tell it. They assess the materials, plan and measure the acts (if they’re using an act structure), decide on the climax and how the characters will develop and map those onto the plan. Then, with a plan, they write.

A gardener, or pantser, by contrast, writes ‘by the seat of their pants’. Pantsers may or may not know where their story is going in broad terms, but they certainly don’t know in any detail beyond ‘this’ll be a cool scene if I can get it there’. To these people, writing is less like architecture and more like gardening – you can build your beds and plant your seeds, but a whole lot of what’s going to happen next depends on how the plants grow, and all you can do is keep an eye on them and prune or train them as necessary. You can dream about what your garden will look like in the spring, but you won’t know until you get there.

Plotters and pantsers are not two distinct categories of writers, but ends on a scale. The writer who ad libs sentence by sentence with no goal at all is extremely rare, as is the writer who starts from an overall view of the plot and cuts it down and down until they’re planning on the sentence level. Most writers tend towards one end of the scale to a greater or lesser degree, but very few write completely using one method and none of the other.

The plotter/pantser scale is one that many writers find incredibly useful to help them understand their own process. By knowing where you are on this scale, you can better understand how you write and better understand how the habits and advice of other writers may or may not be useful to you. (A pantser trying to meticulously plot their story in advance following some formula they found in a writing advice book is wasting their time.) However, this model has little utility beyond that, which is why I find it more useful to address the phenomenon not as a scale, but as the manifestation of two separate skills, that I like to call deductive and inductive plotting.

In logic, deductive reasoning is when you take broad rules or generalities and apply them to specific circumstances to predict things – you start big and go little. “Things fall when you drop them, therefore if I drop this rock it will fall” is deduction. Inductive reasoning is the opposite – you start with small observations and build them into a pattern to predict something bigger. “I dropped seventeen objects and they all fell; therefore, perhaps when you drop things, they fall” is induction. (There’s also abductive reasoning, but that doesn’t fit into our plotting skill metaphor.)

In my experience, these skills match to the habits of plotters and pantsers. Plotters, or architects, assemble a big picture of the story they want and then deduce their individual scenes and fill in the lines to map to their overall general picture. They are deductive plotters. If you ask a deductive plotter to start writing without an outline, they become lost and their output seems directionless and erratic – how can they know what to write if they don’t have an outline to break things down from? Deductive plotters tend to think of stories in terms of overall structures and themes that can be broken down into characters and events and put on the page.

Pantsers, or gardeners, are the opposite. They’re if-then writers, and build the plot upwards from the individual actions of their characters and create the story from the sum total of those interactions. They are inductive plotters. Brandon Sanderson often describes a pantser’s first draft as just a really thorough outline, and he’s not wrong; a pantser needs the scene-by-scene minutae to know what happens next. How are they supposed to build an outline if they don’t know what happens next? If you ask an inductive plotter to build and follow a thorough outline, their writing often comes out as wooden and arbitrary as they have to force the actions of the characters between the restrictive rails of predetermined plot. Inductive potters tend to think of stories in terms of characters and discrete events that build up into something bigger with a consistent mood or theme. Inductive plotters sometimes complain of their characters having a life of their own and defying the plot – this is the effect of their moment-by-moment if-then reasoning of the character’s next action not matching their initial predictions, and surprising them.

Again, the vast majority of writers have some rudimentary skill in both inductive and deductive plotting. A strong deductive plotter (architect) can usually sit down and infer line-by-line a scene that their outline lists as “the three characters meet in the coffee shop and share evidence, Rosemary sees Harold’s notes and realises where the gun went.” Similarly, a strong inductive plotter (gardener) usually has some idea of where their story is headed next even if they don’t know how long it’ll take to get there or what complications will pop up in the meantime. But I’ve never met a writer who is equally strong in both inductive and deductive plotting; most writers specialise heavily in one, and tend towards one end of the scale. I think this is because there’s such a huge overlap in utility; when we start learning to write, we start plotting in whatever way is easiest for us, and train that specific method over decades. There’s little reason to invest even more decades into getting just as good with the other method when your favoured method already achieves everything you want.

I find that viewing this scale as the result of two skills, inductive and deductive plotting, can be very helpful in understanding specifically how we write. Thinking of myself as a heavily inductive plotter with rudimentary deductive plotting skills has really helped me understand why some methods of writing work for me and others don’t, as well as help nail down specific weaknesses in my writing. I also find it useful to think of writing styles and strategies not as some unchangeable characteristic we were born with (as the plotter/pantser scale is frequently envisioned), but as skills that can be built. You don’t write the way you write because you happen to be a plotter or pantser – you write the way you write because that’s what you learned to do! And it was hard! And you did it! Be proud of your skill!

[xomakara]

Behind Closed Doors

SUMMARY |  The quiet guy who lives next door to you hardly seems to notice you, but you can't help but notice him—he's gorgeous. You've given up all hope of striking up a conversation until he comes to your rescue one night after your ex shows up to your house, drunk and looking to take you back, whether you want him or not.

PAIRINGS |  Seonghwa x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  neighbor!Seonghwa, neighbor!Reader, smut, non-idol au, next door neighbor trope

CONTENT/WARNINGS | drunk cheating ex, profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, creampies

LENGTH |  6,053 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I love writing next door neighbor tropes just as much as I love writing college aus. I hope you all like this. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

"I told you to get out!" you yelled, throwing pillows at the sorry excuse of an ex-boyfriend you dated. You didn't miss when they hit him right in the face, and it gave you a weird satisfaction seeing him be hurt, even though it was from the small weapon.

"C'mon, babe, please. We were so good together!" He complained, attempting to get on his hands and knees and crawl over to where you stood on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Oh yeah? Does that mean that me finding out about you fucking all those random tramps was us being 'good together' too?" you scoffed at him.

"Now, babe—"

"Don't you 'babe' me, you asshole. Go find some other chick to go play house with! I never want to see you again, are we clear!?" you seethed. This had gotten annoying rather fast, and now you could barely stand looking at his face any longer.

"Baby, you know that she's nothing compared to you. You're the only one I ever want. I can't get you out of my—"

"If I was the only one that you cared about, you wouldn't have done that in the first place," you said as calmly as you could, trying not to get more upset by thinking about what he did.

“We all make mistakes sometimes!” He pleaded.

"FUCKING MY LANDLORD IN MY BEDROOM AFTER THINKING I WAS OUT OF TOWN IS A MISTAKE!?!?" you screamed, picking up another pillow from behind you and threw it with full force at him. He only missed the attack by dodging.

"Babe..." He tried crawling to you again but you just punched the sofa as hard as you could.

"I have had it! I am so fucking done! There is no chance in hell we will ever get back together and get married like you'd wanted—we're done. Are we clear on this, Park Donghyun!?" You used his full name in a way that wasn't appealing or desirable. It was in a harsh, angry voice that rang through his ears and scared him slightly. He just stayed on the ground, still crawling as slow as he could and acting as if it pained him for you to feel the way you did.

"Sweetheart, please," he croaked. "You know we belong together. I never really loved them, it was you."

You weren't sure if you two were ever good together or just good fucks to each other—either way, you weren't going back to a person like that. When he reached over the couch for you, you went to dodge out of the way and unfortunately, with your shitty luck, you tripped over the leg of the coffee table and fell, hitting your head hard against the corner as you hit the ground.

There was a lot of pain and the stench of soju filled your nose as Donghyun bent over you with lust filled eyes…and then suddenly nothing.

A few blinks later, the blurry figure above you was now much clearer, but it definitely wasn't your shitty ex-boyfriend. It was a much more beautiful sight: Seonghwa, your gorgeous neighbor who seemed to care more than he should about the stranger across the hallway, not that you were going to complain.

"Hey, hey, you should stay still," Seonghwa spoke softly.

"Oww," you groaned, taking an attempt to move to show you were feeling fine. Seonghwa gently grasped your arms and helped you into a sitting position. "Did that fucker leave?" 

"Don't worry. I made sure he wouldn't be bothering you again," Seonghwa replied, letting his eyes glide down to the purplish mark on the side of your face. It broke his heart to see that someone would ever consider treating someone else, especially a woman, this way. "Did he do that to you?"

"This?" you winced at the slight pain. "No. I was trying to get away from him and I tripped. Unfortunately, there was a table there that knocked me out, not the creep." You let out a long breath and blinked rapidly. "God, why did my life turn into a drama?"

You and Seonghwa sat there awkwardly, neither of you too sure what to do in the current situation you were both in. You were never that close, having only waved at each other a handful of times when you had happened to catch each other at the same time and your eyes met. Other than that, you hadn't gotten past acquaintances with the handsome male, though your friends seemed convinced you should start a relationship with him or at least have a nice quick fling for a week or so.

"Hey," he broke the silence that had been lasting a while. "If you want me to, I can put an ice pack on that for you. Might help to prevent the swelling, not to mention the pain."

You hadn't noticed the ache before, but now that it was mentioned, the spot throbbed almost as if in response. A look of surprise had etched onto your features as you finally answered. "That's alright," you answered a little too fast to be natural, "you don't have to do that."

Seonghwa watched you for a second before his expression melted into one of reassurance. "It's okay, I insist," his features brightened with a genuine smile. "Do you have any in your freezer?"

Before you could respond, he was walking over and grabbing them. With the ice in hand, he sat next to you. His shoulder rested gently against yours, his warmth spreading from his thin cotton shirt to you and you were tempted to sink against him and feel his muscles under his shirt. His smell was intoxicating, the light scent of his body wash still lingering from when he showered before coming to rescue you.

Seonghwa was coming home from running errands when the sound of shouting across the hall caught his attention. He knew it was no place for someone to be alone in such a situation, so he rushed over without a second thought. He didn't even question why the front door was unlocked; he assumed someone was preventing you from leaving and Seonghwa did not like that.

Bursting through the door, Seonghwa's protective instincts surged when he saw your ex looming over you. He didn't hesitate – grabbing the man, shoving him out, and slamming the door shut. Concern flooded him as he turned to you, lying on the living room floor.

Seonghwa was relieved to hear your injury was from a fall, not your ex's abuse. As he held the ice pack to your bruised cheek, his heart ached, wishing he could erase your pain. A permanent frown settled on his concerned face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, pulling the ice back to gauge your reaction.

You nodded your thanks, then took the ice pack from him. "My head's pounding," you admitted, "but it was doing that before. The ice actually feels good..." You trailed off, glancing at Seonghwa. He was watching you with such focused attention, it made you self-conscious. "Though, yeah, it is pretty cold."

"Hm... How are things with him? Better now? Do I need to scare him off some more?" He joked, despite the tone and the expression on his face showing nothing more than that.

A dry laugh fell from your lips. "I honestly can't believe him."

"He seemed really obsessed." He nodded as he agreed.

"It's not just that," you scoffed bitterly. "He slept with other women the entire time we were dating, even after he said he loved me. He even slept with my landlady when he thought I was out of town." You shook your head, exasperated. "And here I am, unloading all this on you when we barely know each other. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my ex."

"Well, my schedule is empty at the moment, and I don't mind listening to you talk, either," Seonghwa shifted so that your right knee pressed against his own, his arms resting against his leg. "And about us not really knowing each other, we could get to know each other now and worry about that another day."

You thought about his offer to try and get to know each other while pressing the ice against the bruised spot once again. "So, I should be expecting you in my apartment more often now?"

A slight grin flashed over his lips, a deep chuckle shaking his body lightly. The vibration seemed to radiate into you, a sweet buzz tingling throughout your body and making it warmer than before. "Only if you need rescuing."

The corners of your lips curved into a smile as your free hand reached and ruffled Seonghwa's hair. "Careful now. What would your girlfriend say?"

He let out a laugh. "I'm single if that's what you're asking."

This gorgeous man was single? Even a guy like him was still unattached in this dating scene? As much as you were shocked, you were grateful for the information. You made sure not to let out a relieved sigh as he leaned in toward you.

Seonghwa removed the ice from your hand and held it against your face. It felt like it was much colder now that his fingers were brushing against your skin, especially since the bruise felt a bit better. Not to mention that you could see something sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes. This guy...

"Sorry for coming in unannounced earlier. I just needed to make sure that he wouldn't be able to hurt you," he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "You must be surprised I didn't even knock or anything."

You blinked rapidly, pulling back slightly. Then, you reached out and placed your hand over his, helping him hold the ice pack to your cheek. "You don't need to apologize," you reassured him with a warm smile. "I'm just grateful you were here. Who knows what could've happened otherwise, to me or my apartment." Your smile softened. "And don't worry about surprising me. Thank you, Seonghwa."

The shared warmth of your hands on the ice pack faded as Seonghwa withdrew his touch, leaving a lingering warmth on your skin. A flicker of disappointment quickly gave way to a flutter of excitement as his fingers gently grazed your cheek, careful of the bruise. This wasn't the casual acquaintance you'd known from brief encounters at the mailbox; a deeper connection was sparking to life.

Seonghwa kept the ice pack in place, but his focus shifted. His right hand traced your jawline, fingers hesitant yet drawn to your warmth. The intimacy of the moment was unexpected, a spark igniting where only polite exchanges had existed before. His touch lingered, a silent question hanging in the air, as if seeking permission to bridge the gap between comfort and something more.

He pulled his hand away and picked up the now melting bag, bringing it into the open-plan kitchen that connected with the living room. You followed behind him, confused as to why he had stopped the closeness the two of you were sharing before.

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen while Seonghwa refroze the ice pack. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" His dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle with interest as he studied you.

"Uh, well..."

"Or should I give you some space?" His eyebrows knit together as he fidgeted nervously, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. "I mean, I shouldn't impose, right?"

As if the fates were giving you the signal to tell Seonghwa that, yes, he was always welcome to 'impose', your stomach growled, growling loud enough that the gorgeous man couldn't have ignored it. You groaned and hung your head slightly while laughing lightly, embarrassment burning across your face and through your body.

Seonghwa let out a laugh. "Come over to my place. I'll whip something up," he said with a gentle voice. He walked out of the kitchen and past you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You weren't entirely sure if it was done on purpose or if it was coincidental. But you let him guide you out of your apartment and across the way to his.

A few weeks later, Seonghwa had invited you over for coffee and conversation. Spending more time with the tall and gorgeous man across the hallway didn't sound bad at all. Sure, it had only been a few days since the 'incident', but you had already learned so much. For instance, Seonghwa juggled studying business with bartending gigs and helping out at a friend's car rental. It wasn't the most conventional career path, but he managed it all with surprising ease. Not to mention the fact he had the ability to stay motivated to pull it all off and somehow stay as calm and cool as he is. Then there was the way he effortlessly slipped into his charming demeanor. And how that never left whenever you were together.

Okay, you had to admit you had it pretty bad. This wasn't how you expected to be feeling, given how your relationship with your ex had ended just recently. Yet here you were, admiring this amazingly talented and attractive man sitting in front of you, wearing the most casual clothing possible. Despite looking quite sleepy and lazy with a bit of hair mussed and a very big, comfortable shirt, a small portion of skin was showing and it took all the willpower you had not to stare at him for a little longer. He was that incredible to look at. He'd even fallen asleep in his arm chair, and when you heard soft snores emitted, a light giggle had escaped your lips. Even in sleep, he still looked handsome and you could feel the growing urge to run your fingers through his silky hair and graze his face delicately.

Oh yes, you had it pretty bad... But how would he react? Maybe he would be the one running away. Or not. If he's anything like your ex, then there is a large probability he will leave like all the men you've dated had. Still...

You heaved a sigh and peeked over at Seonghwa, watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. You quietly cleared your throat and leaned over the table where his mug still remained, most likely cold. Placing your fingers against the handle, you began moving to grab the mug, planning on placing it in the kitchen sink. But just as you touched the glass of the mug, the sleepy man stirred awake, blinking to get ahold of reality and waking up. Seonghwa yawned widely, the sound catching in your throat. Your heart skipped a beat, a shy smile spreading across your face.

"Didn't mean to fall asleep..." His voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure.

"Nah, don't worry about it," a genuine smile graced your features, "I don't mind."

Your reaction seemed to comfort him as he rose from the chair and stretched before gathering his coffee mug and reaching out for yours, collecting them to take them to the kitchen and making more coffee for the two of you. You watched intently as his fingers went to his hair to mess it up a bit before coming back to the living room and sitting. He leaned back, exposing more skin at the neck of his shirt, making you realize he didn't have a shirt underneath it.

"So I've been thinking. About that creep," he paused and sipped the coffee. "I was thinking. You and I should hang out together when the creep is nearby. See if it helps to show him that you've moved on."

"Oh? And you think it would work?" You raised your brow, interested and skeptical.

"Yeah," he said it too quickly. His hand went to rub the back of his neck and his gaze stayed down, avoiding you. "He might just have gotten the hint that you don't want anything to do with him. Maybe we can help the process move along? That's if you want to."

His flustered state was adorable, a blush dusting his cheeks as he averted his gaze. You couldn't help but giggle at his bashfulness.

"Are you certain about this? It would mean spending a lot more time together," you teased, enjoying his flustered reaction. His grip tightened on the mug, and he avoided your eyes. "Unless you're only suggesting this out of concern, and you don't actually want to..." you trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

"It's not like that," his voice was a tad shaky and almost sounded panicked as his eyes locked with yours, the flush still coloring his skin. "I'm kind of interested. In you..."

His confession brought heat rushing to your face as well, and your embarrassment was written all over, judging from the amused smirk on Seonghwa's face and how you averted your eyes to focus on the floor. “I’m interested in you too…”

"Y-yeah?" he stammered, his voice catching in his throat. He looked every bit the nervous schoolboy, clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline and darting his eyes anywhere but your face. His lips parted, then closed again as he licked them nervously.

Seonghwa's flustered reaction was endearing. It was hard to believe this confident, capable man was reduced to a blushing, stammering mess in your presence. The realization that he was interested in you, of all the women in the complex who likely vied for his attention, sent a thrill through you. It was impossible not to fall for him a little harder in that moment.

With your mutual confessions hanging in the air, the atmosphere shifted. It became charged with a new intimacy, though a hint of awkwardness lingered. Seonghwa's eyes darted around the room, while your face couldn't help but break into a wide smile. This was a new beginning, a thrilling and uncertain one. As the initial tension eased, Seonghwa visibly relaxed, though he still couldn't quite meet your gaze. He fidgeted with his mug, taking a few sips, and your eyes met in a shared moment of laughter, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings now laid bare.

"Ah," he set his mug down before standing. "Do you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime? Just the two of us?" His gaze returned to you as you got up and put your mug down, keeping it by the table as he placed his in the sink to be cleaned later.

"I'd like that. Let's do it," you couldn't contain your excitement, and your hand instinctively reached out, slipping over where it rested on the sink. Your fingers intertwined with his, causing him to gasp softly. But he didn't pull away; instead, his grip tightened slightly, sending a warm jolt through you.

Seonghwa couldn't speak, his joy evident in the widening of his smile and the tightening of his hold on your hand. As if remembering his usual charm, a playful smirk tugged at his lips. He covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to contain his happiness, while his fingers intertwined with yours. "Yeah?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper.

A rush of heat burned your cheeks as you swallowed a nervous lump before answering. "Yes, I want to spend time with you."

His grip loosened, and he closed the distance between you, his warm breath washing over you. A moment of hesitation, a flicker of nervousness in the air, and then your eyes met. In an instant, you were enveloped in his embrace, his nose brushing affectionately against yours before his lips found yours. The kiss was intoxicating, a dizzying sensation heightened by the gentle pressure of his lips guiding yours.

All too soon, the feeling came to an end when he pulled back, leaving you a mess while he remained fairly composed, his smile beaming brilliantly. "Let me know when you want to go out and I'll take you anywhere. And anytime," Seonghwa cupped your flushed cheek with his palm. His touch sent electric sparks flying over every spot of your skin. "Call me, text me...come over any time."

"Okay," a smile that you didn't even feel could exist came to life as he leaned down again and kissed you, deepening this one a bit more and sending you further into an intense and head spinning trance.

He gave a bright and wide smile that shines as brightly as the sun as he took your hand in his, locking the two of your fingers together as he guided you out to the apartment hallway. He leaned against his open door frame, watching as you opened your front door. Before you could step through, you spun to face him, wanting to thank him, only to be met with him pulling you back and pecking your lips briefly.

"Hey, I'll stop by later if you want," his gorgeous dark brown eyes were sparking and begging you not to reject his offer. "I'll bring dinner. Sounds good?"

"Sure, yeah. That'll be nice," you answered, words slightly slurred since your head hadn't completely returned from being caught in the bliss of those kisses.

"Cool. I'll see you then," he placed a light kiss upon your nose before watching you return to your place.

The sound of the lock clicking shut echoed behind him as Seonghwa practically flew back into his apartment, his joyous shouts filling the living room. He was overflowing with pure elation, warmth spreading through him like wildfire. Rescuing his beautiful neighbor had been an impulsive act on a seemingly ordinary day, but who could have predicted it would lead to this?

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Seonghwa thought, already planning how to shower his new girlfriend with affection. She deserved so much more than that awful ex. The best dates, the best gifts, everything she wanted would be hers. He vowed to dedicate himself to her happiness, helping her erase every painful memory of the past.

After numerous dates filled with stolen kisses and lingering touches, you couldn't deny your growing desire for something more. The passion intensified with each shared moment, often leading to intimate cuddles on the couch or in bed, despite having dinner waiting or a movie paused in the background. Resisting the urge to take things further was a constant battle, but your patience was rewarded during a particularly heated make-out session one evening.

You were the first to move, rising off the couch to settle in his lap, arms finding their way around his neck while your hips were taken control of by Seonghwa's hands. Those skillful and very long fingers seemed to know exactly where to knead and grab as his teeth and tongue both went to work to drive you crazy. The fabric of his jeans was not comfortable at all and you tried to adjust your hips a bit to seek more comfort and maybe to send him some messages that you really enjoyed what was occurring. However, this movement seemed to rile Seonghwa up a bit.

"Can we..." you started to ask but couldn't find the rest of the words that you desperately sought out.

"We can... We can move it to the bedroom," he had already read you like an open book and his arms wrapped around you. "Or stay here if you don't mind the couch? We can go weherever you want to go."

As much as you liked the idea of staying right where you were and continuing this there and then, you weren't certain if you wanted the first time to be on the couch, even if that's where all the previous kissing had led. Shaking your head lightly, your answer was given and Seonghwa gladly lifted you and carried you with his long legs taking large and quick steps to his room, leaving kisses along the sides of your neck and behind your ear, a known sensitive spot for you.

He pressed you onto the mattress, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you cried out his name. How had this incredible man become yours? His touch was magic, igniting sparks wherever his fingers traced, leaving you weak and pliant in his arms. You threaded your fingers through his soft, thick hair, the boyish style contrasting with the raw passion in his eyes.

“You're so handsome, Seonghwa," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

"Handsome and talented? Hmm? And totally yours," his bright eyes shined with his dazzling smile and his eyebrows rose. "I'm yours, angel. All yours."

"I want you, Seonghwa..." you couldn't contain how badly you wanted him, the yearning strong as you watched him move his head to one side and his face nuzzle your neck. A light growl and he bit the spot he'd just exposed by moving out of the way before his teeth dragged his lower lip slowly back across the surface.

"You can have all of me," the smirk was obvious from the sound of his husky tone. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Do whatever you ask and I'll gladly listen."

"You should probably know... I've never been on top. Always the bottom," you admitted.

"Hmmm...so you want to ride this tonight?" He grinded his crotch over top of yours, allowing the rough friction to give you a preview, the movement so expert and sensual as his eyes shut and he threw back his head, lips parted to let out a groan. "Because I can make that happen if it'll please my angel."

You couldn't stop your fingers from raking along his bare skin beneath his shirt, digging slightly as your back arched for more contact. "Yes. I want that. Will you give it to me?"

"Hell yes," his husky growl had you burning for him with anticipation and the excitement made your hands shake as your shirt was removed. In seconds, the rest of your clothing had been peeled from your form and Seonghwa stood by the bed to toss off everything.

There wasn't time to admire the masterpiece that he had under his pants because those hands returned, sliding along your curves and hips before flipping you up to straddle over him. Once settled and comfortable, your eyes fixated on how aroused he was before you as your core was positioned directly over the bulge pressing firmly against your heat. Your hands supported you in his lap with the flat of your palms pressed against the soft sheet, just below his firm, perky chest. With each slight wiggle of your hips, an enticing moan erupted and his head pushed back while his length grinded against your sex, creating a lovely mix of heat and wetness that coated over his growing arousal. The slick and wet noises each time you rolled or swiveled your hips sent your head spinning and you wanted nothing more than to continue that until you would eventually need a taste of that pulsing, red, swollen tip.

"Hwa? Can I suck you for a bit?" you whispered as your lips spread out across his upper chest.

A light hum that was filled with pure desire came as a response from him before a broken 'fuck' slipped free as the first touch of your tongue and lips worked across his defined collarbone and your fingers began working his growing length. Each pump made your core swell and dampen more, and the anticipation and arousal nearly blinded you, so badly were you just yearning to be filled and used.

When he seemed to be unable to handle it any longer, Seonghwa flipped you back around so your rear faced him and you had your mouth leveled with the object that would very soon satisfy that part of your aching sex. "Why don't I eat you out while you suck me? Sounds fair to you, babe?"

You could only hum against the smooth skin of his arousal and closed your eyes when you felt his palms roaming across the curvatures of your rear before spreading the plump cheeks. He didn't waste any more time before diving right in with a long, deep lick to your soaking pussy. Each swirl and circle had you wanting to moan and push your hips back for more while at the same time, trying to take him deep, gagging slightly until you began to find the right balance and breathing technique. Seonghwa was a lot bigger than your last boyfriend, but luckily for you, there was enough practice and pleasure before, thanks to your skills, to prepare for him.

"Fuck Hwa, right there...ohh!" your cries got a little louder and your body felt more restless when he began nibbling and licking over your clit.

"Come on, angel. Don't stop sucking me," he purred against your heat and the vibrations drove you higher and more insane.

As soon as he returned and increased his attention on you, you returned yours to his deliciously thick and hard length. You would make sure to give it the utmost care and attention, no matter how good it felt to have those masterful lips and tongue working you in the most sensitive spots. You pulled out all the tricks and techniques you knew, bobbing your head at just the right moment and at the perfect angle that you could take him in more and at the right moment would stroke his base. Meanwhile your other hand carefully rolled his sack and when you weren't completely focused, would pull up lightly from its place. Each moan he let out into your dripping cunt had your legs quivering and you weren't sure how much longer you could take before coming undone.

Your head was beginning to cloud more and more with desire and lust while the hot and slick sounds and your panting grew louder the longer the oral stimulation went on for. It took your whole power and energy to remember that you had your hands working while you felt like a puddle, near your limits of coming undone as his tongue swiped against the most sensitive nerves. It became increasingly difficult to focus and concentrate on keeping your throat and gag reflexes under control with each bob. You definitely weren't going to be able to handle this for much longer if things kept going at that pace.

"Hwa, I can't...ahhhhh," your screams echoed as his talented tongue and the slight prodding of a long, slender finger at your entrance had you finishing in no time.

"Me too, angel," his breathy moans were encouraging as were the heavy panting from his mouth while he pushed his hips back and forth, gliding easily within your mouth with the help of your hand. "Oh, fuck... Fuck! Here it comes, babe..." Seonghwa grunted as he shoved his cock back further into your warm, wet, and waiting mouth and you swallowed and held him in there, eyes watering and stinging slightly.

Once he eased up and the load that had shot directly down your throat was swallowed, you turned around and crawled up his body, your lips latching onto his neck.

"I'm not quite done with you yet, Hwa," your hand gripped his throbbing member once more, rubbing teasing circles along the sensitive flesh and feeling it twitch within your fingers. Your thumb smeared the moisture from the head across the entire, swollen shaft, making the pumping slick and quick. "Need you in me...right fucking now..."

"Take it as much as you need, angel," the raspy voice growled back as he used your soaked entrance to slick and prep his length.

In the matter of a single second, his full length slid straight into you and you let out a drawn out moan. With the size of your new lover, he hit spots that no one had ever even come close to touching. He was that thick and long, hitting places you'd never imagined having touched. He must have been blessed by the gods and you were incredibly lucky.

"If I'm hurting you—" Seonghwa began to ask, concern etched on his face.

"No! Hwa, you're fine... Better than fine," a breathy, eager, and almost desperate whimper met his ear as you grinded your hips on his length, begging for movement and pleasure from him. "Fuck, you fill me up so well. It feels so amazing," you added.

His hips rolled and with each stroke, each thrust was controlled and steady as he made certain to hit your deepest spots, rocking his pelvis at the perfect angle so he could continuously graze along that spot deep inside, coaxing it to explode and send you over. "So tight and wet...perfect...fuck, this pussy is gorgeous and sweet. And only mine. Right, angel? My girl's perfect tight little pussy is all mine?" Seonghwa asked and smirked after hearing your sweet sounds.

All you could do was nod, clutching him and running your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to hold off your second climax as long as you possibly could, even though the way his cock kept sliding, prodding and working along that one sweet spot would become your undoing. That, and his filthy words. Those filthy words mixed with the beautiful grunts and moans from him were so sexy. He was already wrecking you so much.

"All yours, baby," you said softly. "Only yours."

"So perfect, my angel. Come on, my sweet angel," his husky voice murmured and encouraged you to keep going and let the feelings come to their highest peak.

"H-harder. Fuck me harder, Hwa." The sensations within you built, the pressure and knot deep within ready to burst. Just a little more. Only a little more and you could finish and feel free of the bliss and pleasure that your boyfriend was so skillfully bringing forth.

"Prettiest, most angelic voice...just listen to the little moans you're making... Fuck!" Seonghwa pounded and pounded deeper and deeper into you until you were a babbling mess. He fucked the words completely out of you, replacing them instead with sweet moans and screams of his name. That angelic sound of you reaching your climax did not go unnoticed as it bounced along his bedroom walls and your tight walls squeezed him.

It was all too much. After giving you such a glorious release that had you seeing stars, Seonghwa reached his high, moans mixing together as the two of you panted and clutched each other with strong arms. The two of you basked in the high the two of you had just taken part of and came down from slowly, hearts beating at erratic rhythms while your breath returned.

"Wow..." Seonghwa spoke softly. "You're amazing, angel."

"That was...that was great," you still hadn't fully recuperated from the waves and the intensity of the mind blowing experience with him. "But Hwa...baby?" you questioned.

"Hm?" Seonghwa questioned, his voice raspy with contentment.

"We definitely need showers," you giggled.

"Hm... But I can't walk yet, my legs are numb," Seonghwa stated as he gently patted your rear.

You giggled and smirked, "Get stronger ones, mister," before settling down on his chest.

"My legs can barely move! A shower sounds awesome, but I'm so comfy and tired right now," he made a fake, overly loud snoring sound.

You poked the tip of his nose. "How about I draw a bath for us then?"

"Perfect. Or we could skip the bath all together and just do some more...adventures...in bed," he had a smile full of mischief and the wink had you giggling and shaking your head, a blush finding its way into your cheeks once more.

"You and your dirty mind..." you went to get up and start the water, only to have him grab your wrist and sit up slightly, the sweat dripping down and his cheeks rosy pink.

"Angel, one more? Then we can be good and clean," his pleas were soft and inviting, and very convincing when coupled with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes.

"How about sex in the bathtub instead? As a compromise and to satisfy your neediness," you said and put a finger to your lips.

Seonghwa chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain. That's a deal."

[junezsq]

cigarettes

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you hate the way cigarettes taste and when he finds out he decides that maybe it’s time to quit

established relationship

warnings: alcohol, (underage) drinking, partying, smoking, a few swear words, make out scenes

word count: 3.6k

a/n: someone get me somebody like steve ugh!!!! the way I feel like he'd do anything for the people he loves :')

── ᵎᵎ ✦

by the time you’d filled up the kitchen counter with all the different types of liquor you could find it felt like you had run half a marathon. to be completely honest, you were still in shock about how one household could own this much alcohol in the first place.

the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the hallway towards the kitchen and when you glanced sideways you smiled at your boyfriend walking towards you. “hey,” you pushed yourself off the counter and motioned your hands at the kitchen island, proud of the set up you’d made, “tadaa! what do you think?.”

he chuckled, “you didn’t have to.” he looked over the full counter before looking back at you, taking a few steps closer so he was able to place his hands on your waist, “it looks great, sweets.”

you shrugged, “i wanted to help.” you smiled, moving your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. your eyes flickered up to his hair, which he had carefully styled in the time you’d been setting up the kitchen. the devil on your shoulder told you it’d be fun to run your hands through it and mess it up a bit. you didn’t want to force him to undergo the entire styling process again though, which would result into him missing the start of the party he was organizing, “it was a lot though, is it all yours?”

steve glanced over at all the bottles you’d picked, “it’s my dad’s.” he looked back at you, raising his hand to carefully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. you raised your brows, “and he lets you use it? i bet my dad would kill me if i drank even the tiniest bit of his precious liquor.”

“i don’t know.” he moved his hand back to your waist, “he’s never home long enough to check.”

your gaze softened as you softly squeezed his shoulders in comfort. you knew how difficult it had been, and still was, for steve; not having his parents home for majority of his life. “luckily, you now have me to irritate you.” you tried to lighten the mood, successfully, because he let out a soft chuckle and dipped his head to sweetly place his lips on yours.

you let yourself melt into the kiss for a short moment before pulling back, leaning your forehead against his, "on that note," you bit your bottom lip, slightly smirking as you leaned backwards so you could look at him again, "could i stay the night?"

steve smiled at your request, "you know you don't have to ask that, sweets." he softly squeezed your hips, placing a quick peck on your lips. "but if you do, you have to help me clean up."

you giggled, moving to stand on your toes and reconnect your lips with his. you felt him smile through the kiss and you slightly tightened your grip on his shoulders when he pulled you closer against him.

the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the house interrupted your moment and a laugh escaped your throat at steve throwing his head back in annoyance. you softly patted his chest, "i'll open the door."

steve watched as you walked off around the corner and towards the front door. god the things you did to him. there was never a moment he looked at you and didn't want to smother you with kisses. he was sure he could kiss you all day, everyday, and never get tired of it. he shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips as he turned to the kitchen island, grabbing two red cups to fill them up with a drink he knew you liked.

the first to enter were some you recognised as steve's friends and a couple of your classmates. you decided to keep the door unlocked so no one had to worry about constantly hearing the obnoxious sound of the doorbell.

while you made your way back to the kitchen you widened your eyes, surprised by the amount of people that had arrived in the span of a few minutes. you muttered a couple sorry’s as you squished yourself through the crowd and a breath of relief left your lips when you’d finally reached the kitchen.

your eyes fell on steve, who was talking to someone you vaguely recognized as someone from your school year. you dusted off your hands on your jeans as you stepped closer to them, “hey.” you breathed out, and at the sound of your voice the two immediately turned their heads to look at you. you glanced down and caught sight of the two cups in steve’s hands. “what’cha got there?”

steve followed your line of sight, “right.” he glanced at the guy next to him, telling him he’d find him later that night to continue whatever conversation they were having, “here you go, gorgeous.” he turned to you and handed you the fullest cup, clearly already having drunk from the other one.

you thanked him as you took the cup from his hand, a small smile playing on your lips, “you didn’t have to cut off your conversation with …?”

he chuckled, leaning back against the counter, “joshua.”

“right,” you nodded before taking a sip of your drink.

“it’s fine, we still have the entire night to finish that.” steve kept his smile playing on his lips as he took your free hand in his, pulling you closer to him, “and i needed to give you your favorite drink.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, “you’re such a cliché, harrington.”

“don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“hmm.” you stilted your head, trying to appear as if you were in thought, “maybe.”

steve smirked at you, softly squeezing your hand as he pulled you even closer against him. he immediately smashed his lips on yours and you returned his smirk through the kiss. you tried your best not to spill the drink you were still holding in one hand as you untangled your other from his, moving it to the back of his neck.

his tongue swept over your bottom lip, as if to ask for permission and so you moved your hand up to slightly tug on his hair in answer. he groaned softly at the gesture and tightened his grip on your waist, slowly starting to loose himself into the kiss. he couldn't get enough of it. of you.

"yo, harrington! stop sucking the life out of your girlfriend!"

a voice called throughout the kitchen and you giggled as you pulled away from steve. your hand was still tangled up in his hair when you glanced to the backdoor in which eddie was leaning against the doorpost. you playfully rolled your eyes and looked back at steve starting to carefully fix his hair.

"you're just saying that because you're still bitchless, munson." steve shot back, removing his hand from your waist only to immediately wrap his other arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you instinctively wrapped your arm around his middle.

"whatever." eddie scoffed, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "you comin' outside?"

steve's gaze landed on you, his eyes searching your features for a hint of your thoughts. you smiled at him, "go! i'll try and find robin or nancy."

"are you sure?" steve's eyes were focused on yours and you gave him another reassuring smile, "yeah!" you detached yourself from him and softly pushed him towards the backdoor, "go!"

"alright, alright," steve chuckled, leaning closer to you again to place a quick kiss on your lips, "don't let anyone get close to your drink."

you giggled at his protectiveness, knowing he would stay by your side the entire evening if you asked him to, "i won't, now go! eddie's waiting." his hand found your cheek as he leaned in for another soft kiss. you smiled against his lips while slightly pulling him closer by his collar.

“harrington!”

eddie’s call-out made him draw back with a stupid grin playing on his lips, “see you later, yeah?”

you nodded, letting go off his collar to softly pat his chest, “see ya.” your own smile didn’t recede as you watched him stalk off towards eddie and out the back door. a soft breath escaped your lips before you quickly downed your drink. time to mingle.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

the chatter and music died down as you stumbled through the hallway, trying to make your way towards the bathroom. at the sound of a door closing you glanced backwards, but the quick movement caused you to loose your balance. before you could fall face first to the ground though, a pair of strong hands found your waist.

“shit, sorry.” you grumbled, automatically grabbing their arm to straighten yourself. when you found the mystery person’s face you immediately widened your eyes in surprise, “steve!”

it was obvious you’d had a drink too many; the strap of your top had fallen of your shoulder and your hair was completely disheveled. steve chuckled at your excitement and let go of your waist to carefully readjust the strap and place some hair strands that were stuck against your lipgloss behind your ears, “what’s up, sweets?”

you shrugged, “nothing much.” steve’s hand found it’s way to your upper arm, causing your insides to warm up at his touch. you slightly raised your brows when you remembered something, “i found robin!”

“you did?” steve let his thumb rub small circles on your skin.

you nodded eagerly, “yeah! only a moment after you went outside, she walked into the kitchen. she made me a drink, actually!” you started rambling, “it was really good! not as good as the one you made me, but maybe, like, a close second!”

“a close second, huh?”

you hummed in response, “and then we talked for a while, i don’t remember about what, though.” you lightly tilted your head in thought, but gave up quickly, “doesn’t matter, because then we went dancing for a bit, and after that she made me another one of those drinks. that one wasn’t as good as the first one she made me, though.”

“that’s too bad.” steve’s eyes went over your features while he listened carefully, “and then … you ended up here?”

“yeah,” you smiled at your boyfriend, “i was on my way to the bathroom, but now that i think about it, i don’t really have to pee.” you shrugged and steve let out a soft chuckle.

you slightly tilted your head, placing your pointer finger against his chest, “what have you been up to, handsome?”

an amused grin was playing on steve’s lips and you swore you could see small sparkles glowing in his eyes as he looked at you, “well, while robin was playing your personal bartender, i was outside with eddie and a few other guys from our year…”

you tried your utmost best to focus on whatever steve was telling you, but for some reason all you could look at, and think of, were his lips. they were just too pretty to not look at. you swallowed, flattening your hand against his chest as your mind started wandering to what his way too perfect lips could do. what they’d done to you already.

“are you listening?”

his voice pulled you out off your trance and your eyes flickered up to his, “huh?”

he raised his brows teasingly, “what are you thinking off?”

you let out a soft breath, “sorry, it’s just … i wanna listen to what you’re saying,” you trailed your hand up to his cheek so you could place your thumb on his bottom lip, your own lips forming a small pout, “but all i can think of is your lips and how badly i want to kiss them.”

“do you now?” steve smirked, your thumb moving along with his bottom lip as he spoke. your eyes intently followed the small movement.

“yeah…” you let out another sigh, “wait! is this what you meant when you told me you wish you could kiss me 24/7?” you blurted out, tearing your gaze away from his lips to look him back in the eye.

all steve did was let out a soft laugh. his hand slowly creeped up your arm and to your hand, removing it from his cheek so he could intertwine them, “i did tell you that, huh?”

“i get it now.” your focus landed back on his lips as you softly bit your own bottom lip. the things you’d do to the male standing in front of you if his house wasn’t full with people right now.

he pulled you closer by your hand and leaned slightly closer. his forehead was almost touching yours and when he spoke in a whisper you felt shivers form along your spine, “you know you can just kiss me anytime you want, sweets.”

“i know.” you whispered, detaching your hand from his and moving it, along with your other, up to the back of his neck. his hands instantly moved to your waist. you smirked lightly as you pulled him closer; your foreheads now touching, “but what if i want you to kiss me?”

steve chuckled before connecting your lips with his and you felt yourself instantly relax. “you’re crazy.” he spoke in between kisses, softly squeezing your hips.

“about you, yeah.” you mumbled against his lips, tangling one of your hands into his hair; wanting him to be as close to you as possible.

you raised yourself to stand on your toes just as his tongue darted past your lips and into your mouth. a soft groan escaped steve's lips as he tightened his grip onto your hips. just when you started to melt into the kiss, you could taste a bit of nicotine on either his tongue or lips.

you pulled back slightly, which steve took as a hint to trail his kisses down towards your jaw and neck. your brows formed a small frown in thought. was it your imagination or did he really taste like cigarettes? wanting to find out you placed your palms on his cheeks so you could tilt his head back up and move back into a kiss. as soon as your lips touched his again, you knew you were right.

you leaned back, "did you smoke?" you asked, your eyes on his and his face still cradled in your hands.

steve blinked in confusion, "I did ... outside with eddie and the others." he let his fingertips slip just underneath your top as he spoke, under the impression you already knew he'd smoked earlier that night, "why?"

you threw your head back and let out a groan, “ugh.” a sigh escaped your lips, letting your hands slip down to his shoulders as you looked him back in the eyes, “ now i don’t want to kiss you anymore.”

steve's brows knitted together, getting more confused by the second, "what? ... why?"

"i hate the taste of cigarettes." your lips formed a pout as you spoke, "kinda makes me want to throw up, actually."

"really?! i didn’t know that."

"yeah..." you nodded, starting to play with the collar of his polo.

steve slipped one of his hands from underneath your top and reached up to tuck a stubborn strand of hair behind your ear, "so if I kiss you again right now, you'll throw up..?"

you giggled softly, "okay, maybe, not literally throw up." your eyes went over his features as you spoke, "i just think it tastes awful."

"right." steve slightly tilted his head in thought.

when you noticed you softly squeezed his shoulders, "I'm not saying you have to quit smoking, or anything! you can do whatever you want." you smiled affectionately, "i just won't kiss you right after you've smoked ... maybe you can eat a mint or brush your teeth?"

"alright." steve quickly nodded, still slightly thrown off by this new information. "yeah, i can do that." he smiled at you, moving his hand back to your waist, "wouldn't want to miss out on kissing you, now would i?"

a giggle escaped your lips as you reached your hand up to softly ruffle his hair, “i’m going to get some water, sober up a bit.” you smiled, brushing some hair away from his eyes, “see you later?”

even though you already knew his answer your smile grew slightly when steve hummed in confirmation. you raised yourself on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, his hands instinctively squeezing your waist.

you gave him one last smile and steve watched as you walked off. his eyes stayed on the doorway through which you had just disappeared a moment longer before throwing his head back. all sort of thoughts were circulating through his head; he couldn’t stop thinking of the conversation you’d just had.

he ran his hands through his hair before placing them on his hips. how had he not know about this? he though of all the times he’d smoked, coming to the conclusion that none of them had been around you, and that there’d always been quite some time between taking a cigarette and seeing you.

steve sighed and let his hand slip into his pocket, taking out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes; the thought of not being able to kiss you slipped into his mind. he ran his free hand through his hair once more before stalking off towards the kitchen.

he squished himself through the crowd, mumbling a quick sorry when bumping into someone. a voice he vaguely recognized called his name but he ignored it as his thoughts were elsewhere.

when he reached the kitchen he instantly went for one of the counter cabinets and opened it to reveal the trash can. he took one last glance at the cigarettes and lighter in his hand before throwing them away. a small breath of relief escaped his lips; it almost felt as if he should’ve done this way sooner.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

when steve wasn’t able to find you he decided to take a breath of fresh air and go outside for a bit. while he ran his hand through his hair he closed the back door. he was still wondering if he should tell you he’d decided to quit smoking tonight or if he would wait until after the party; not sure if you had managed to sober up.

“look who we’ve got here.” he glanced up to find eddie already looking at him, a stupid smirk grazing his lips. eddie reached out his hand that held a pack of cigarettes, “want one?”

steve shook his head, “thanks, but i can’t.”

“what?” eddie slightly tilted his head, taking a cigarette for himself before stuffing the package into his pocket, “didn’t you smoke one with me earlier?”

steve watched as eddie casually lit up the cigarette, “yeah, that was my last one.”

“your last one?” eddie knitted his brows, exhaling the smoke, “ever?”

steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. he had never been a big smoker, he’d probably describe himself as an occasional one; parties, etc. however, having eddie point out so specifically he’d taken his last cigarette earlier that night, it made it sound so official. “yeah, man.”

“why’s that?” eddie tapped his cigarette, his eyes focused on the male in front of him.

steve shrugged once more, “promised my girl.”

the moment the words had left steve’s lips, eddie perked up, his eyes widening and a stupendous smirk growing on his own lips, “no way.”

“what?”

eddie exhaled some more smoke and slightly pushed steve’s shoulder, “aw, my little stevie is in love.”

steve slightly rolled his eyes, but stayed silent as he let his eyes wander over his backyard. eddie’s smirk grew even larger at his silence, “dude, you’re not even denying it!”

“okay, shut up.”

eddie opened his mouth to tease steve a bit more, but closed it the second his eyes caught on the back door opening. when he saw who was making their way outside he grinned back at steve, placing his cigarette against his lips, “speak of the devil.”

steve knitted his brows in confusion, turning his head towards the direction eddie was looking. at the sight of you his brows and posture relaxed instantly and when your eyes found his he couldn’t help but smile. you returned his smile and walked closer to the pair, “hey, i was looking for you, actually.”

“were you now?” eddie tapped his cigarette, “i’ve been outside the entire night.” he playfully smiled at you.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, your eyes falling on the curly haired, "no way! dang it, I should've come out here sooner." you giggled softly.

eddie exhaled some smoke once more before peaking away his cigarette, "too bad and too late, cutie, because i'm going inside now." he sent you a smile and glanced at steve, softly patting his arm, "good luck with the whole 'no smoking' thing, buddy."

your eyes snapped to steve, who obviously cringed at eddie's words. the curly haired called out a goodbye; you waved at him but kept your focus on your boyfriend, "what did he mean by that?"

steve bit his bottom lip, his eyes avoiding yours, "yeah, uhm, exactly what he said. i decided to quit."

"what?!" you exclaimed, reaching out your hands to place them on his cheek so you could turn his head and make him look at you, "but i told you, you don't have to do that."

"but i want to." steve's eyes finally found yours.

"why?"

steve instinctively moved his hands to your hips to pull you closer towards him, "because i can't miss out on kissing you."

you couldn't contain your smile as you let your thumbs softly caress his cheeks, "you're crazy, harrington."

"about you, yeah." steve returned your smile when he repeated the words you'd uttered to him earlier that night, "you know i'd do anything for you, sweets."

[yawnderu]

Captain's Wife - John Price & TF141 x Reader

work starting to feel like I do belong in the kitchen 💀so here's some Price domestic stuff to keep me going until Friday so I don't lose my mind.

Content: small drabbles, fluff, domestic!Price, vouyerism, John ''I share my wife'' Price, TF141 x reader.

I actually think about being Price's housewife quite a lot. Being a cute little thing he has waiting for him back at home, a domestic life for the first time ever, something he never even thought was possible.

He bought big house in the British countryside, just to make sure you're free from all the stress city life brings. Any hobbies you may have he fully supports and funds, giving you extra spending money on the side despite knowing you don't usually spend it, having all your needs and interests taken care of by him.

This man spoils you rotten without you even asking, having savings for years before he even met you and a good salary as a captain in the SAS. Anything you even glance at when you're out with him at the mall? Bought for you with no hesitation at all. Jewelry, clothes, lingerie; you don't lack any of those things when you're with him.

Any affection you miss while he's deployed is given to you once he's back, his fat cock filling you up in different positions, despite how tired he might be, he always has the energy to fuck his darling wife good. He always puts your pleasure first, making you cum with his fingers and tongue before he even thinks about putting his dick inside. His efforts don't come without rewards, of course, and it has become one of his favorite things to see you down on your knees, praising his thick cock and heavy falls, praising him.

Being a Captain comes with sharing many things with his boys- from gear, to his wife. The first time you're introduced to the boys, the thought of straying doesn't even cross your mind, fully loyal to your husband and simply happy to meet the boys he considers his family. It isn't until Price has you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you in front of the younger men that the thought of having someone other than him hits your brain.

John doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on the younger men. Soap shamelessly has his dick out, stroking up and down slowly, basking in on the sight of his captain fingering your soaking cunt. Gaz is more subtle about it, though eventually he can't ignore his boner, pulling out the prettiest dick you've ever seen and stroking it with more enthusiasm than the others, free hand massaging his heavy balls, begging for release.

Ghost is the one who takes the longest to give into it, ignoring his painful boner being strained by his jeans up until John is fucking you. The sight of your attractive body bouncing on his captain's cock is too much for him, legs spreading wider on the couch to adjust his boner until his hand hesitantly starts to rub his length over his clothes, shamelessly thinking it's him the one fucking you.

And that fantasy becomes a reality soon enough, once you're fucked-out and your cunt is ready to take more, nice and wet for the men he trusts the most. He has rules for it, of course. They can't fuck you without a condom, anything you feel uncomfortable with is off limits, and if you show any signs of discomfort, they have to stop. Soap only whined about not being able to fuck you raw, earning him a look that got him to shut up immediately.

Gaz is a gentle lover despite how excited he was, eating your cunt out nice and slow, plump lips latching onto your clit while your hand gently pushes the back of his head closer, a teasing ''patience, love.'' escaping his lips as he lines up the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in and giving you time to adjust to his thickness before he's fucking into you slowly, making sure every thrust hits deep inside you. He switches positions a few times, settling in for the one that makes you moan louder, hands holding onto your hips as he fucks into you from behind.

Johnny is more eager, more... youthful, just happy to be able to fuck you. He'd never admit it, but he's had his eye on you ever since he first met you, wishing he was as lucky as his captain. He eats you out for the longest, messily sucking and licking all over your cunt, lips latching onto your clit, tongue swirling over it, your moans encouraging him to go for longer even when his tongue is tired. He's on his knees in front of the bed, one of his hands busy jerking himself off and stopping right when he's about to cum just by tasting you. H's not enthusiastic about putting a condom on, though he quickly forgets about his annoyance once he's balls deep inside you, hands holding onto your waist as he fucks into you, fast and deep.

Ghost is the only one who doesn't eat you out yet, being slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing and about being watched. John knows Ghost ever since he was Simon, so he tells the boys to go clean up while he too leaves the room, making sure to be within earshot in case anything happens, despite knowing he can trust Simon with his life. He makes up for it by fingering your cunt, long digits sinking into it slowly, brown eyes fully focusing on your expression to make sure you're enjoying every second of it. It takes a while before he fucks you, condom rolling down his thick length and making sure you're all nice and wet before hesitantly pushing in, holding you in a nice missionary while he thrusts in and out, his massive body caging you in and making you feel safe. The mask goes up halfway, giving you sloppy, inexperienced kisses as a reward for taking him so well. Simon is a talker when he's close, face seeking shelter into the crook of your neck as he praises you for being so good for him, for taking his cock so well and making him feel good.

Once the boys are gone, Price runs a bath for you, asking you if you enjoyed yourself and if you'd be interested on doing that again in the future. He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, warm hands washing your body with love and care, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms even when you're in the bathtub. He dries your body and puts you to bed after changing the sheets, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

[straylightdream]

king of my heart

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader

↳ I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own. I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone. We met a few weeks ago. Now you try on callin' me "baby" like tryin' on clothes

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmates au?, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, they’re both so incredibly down bad for each other, wonwoo rides a motorcycle (I don’t know if that’s a warning), smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: my next story for SVT inspired by reputation songs by taylor swift. This is part of a loosely connecting series called “all for you” you can absolutely just read this as one shot. Vernon’s story is coming soon about him and his girl that’s mentions.

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, big dick wonwoo, breeding kink, cum play, cum eating, body worship, breast play (wonwoo is boob obsessed), praise kink, glasses kink?(mc gets really turned on by wonwoo glasses), nicknames: baby (both)

It all felt like a whirlwind meeting him. You had lived your life mostly alone. You had moved to the city after college away from your family. You were heavily focused on your career. You had lived alone for the last two years and never even tried dating.

You met Wonwoo on a Friday night when a couple of coworkers convinced you to go out with them. You couldn’t say no to Mingyu when he practically begged you to join him and his friends. You and Mingyu worked for a publishing house.

Something tells you Mingyu wanted to set you up with Wonwoo all along. The moment you were introduced you were drawn to him. He’s so handsome and charming. You shared an instant connection with him you had never shared with anyone before.

Since that first night you met you couldn’t stop thinking about the boy with glasses. You went on your first date after only knowing each other for two days. He took you on a sunset picnic by the river. You instantly realized you had a lot in common but you were also quite different, but in a good way. That night was the first night you rode on his motorcycle. You never knew you could be so attracted to a man who rode a motorcycle before him. He took you home walking you up to your apartment. You had no issues with sleeping together on your first date, but Wonwoo said he wanted to wait a little. He said the anticipation of what’s to come will make it worth it. So that night with you pressed up against your front door you shared a heated kiss goodbye.

It’s only been two months and you can’t get enough of him. He still gives you butterflies and his touch feels electric. You spend almost every day with him one way or another.

His body is plastered behind yours as you lay on your side. His hand grips your soft stomach as he slowly thrust into you. This has been a normal way you’ve been waking up with him. You found out very early on that Wonwoo is quite fond of morning sex. Waking up with Wonwoo erection poking your stomach gave you an idea of how your morning was going to go. It didn’t take him long for him to slip off your underwear and push your oversized shirt up. You can’t help but question why you even try to sleep wearing clothes when Wonwoo is in your bed.

Pushing your hips back you can’t help but gasp at how deep he’s hitting. This is one of your favorite positions with him. He’s so big that when he’s behind you he feels like he’s going extra deep.

“Baby,” he moans your latest nickname he’s started calling you.

Everything about Wonwoo is perfect. Even his body is perfect. His wide shoulders and slim waist, and his dick is the biggest you’ve ever had. You don’t know how you’ll repay Mingyu for basically setting you up.

Wonwoo falls apart filling you to the brim. You learned early on that Wonwoo loves fucking you raw and has a fascination with coming inside you. Sometimes you wonder if he's trying to get you pregnant.

Sitting on his knees between your legs he watches intently as his cum drips out of you. His finger slowly scoops some up before pushing it back inside of you.

“You know you're the first man I have been with who seems obsessed with coming inside me,” you tease.

“Does it make me territorial!?” He smiles.

“Possibly, but you don’t try to dom me while you do it.” Your hand glides down your stomach and slowly dips through your fold smearing around his release.

“Do you want me dom you?” He asked, arching his eyebrow.

“Not really. I like the way things are with us.”

“That’s good because this is about as kinky as I get,” he laughs crawling off the bed. He disappears into your bathroom that’s connected to your room. He comes back holding a warm washcloth. Gently he wipes away the mess that you’ve both made.

“I think you’re kinkier than you give yourself credit for. You definitely like to overstimulate me. You also are definitely obsessed with my boobs.”

He walks over to the nightstand putting on his glasses. Shaking his head, “and you’re obsessed with me fucking you while I have my glasses on.”

“Who can blame a girl?” You slowly sit up. He presses his lips to yours for a soft kiss. “Oh we can’t forget the time you thought it would be fun to edge me.”

-

“Has Wonwoo convinced you to go to Seungcheol's birthday tonight yet?” Mingyu says sitting a cup of coffee down in front of you.

Going to events with Wonwoo’s friend group still felt odd to you. You weren’t used to a man proudly wanting to take you to things.

Before you started dating the man who has been stealing your heart, you didn’t realize you have a few mutual friends. Before your first meeting you had Mingyu mention Wonwoo’s name a few times. It turns out you and Wonwoo had a few mutual friends. One of them is your coworker Mingyu and the other two are friends from college Vernon and Sweetie. The latter who is now dating another friend from the boys’ friend group Soonyoung.

“Has my boyfriend recruited you to help convince me?” You take a sip of your iced coffee. Seungcheol birthday party has been a conversation with your boyfriend for over a week.

“He mentioned a couple times that you felt awkward going,” he sits down in the chair in front of your desk.

“I’m awkward in social settings. Hell I never went out with anyone from work until that night a couple months ago when you convinced me.” You we’re quite the homebody before you started working with Mingyu. Back in college you really only had two friends: your roommate at the time, sweetie and her best friend Vernon.

“And look what happened you went out and I got you a boyfriend,” he smiles. Mingyu is never going to stop bragging about the fact that he successfully set up you and Wonwoo.

“I guess I don’t need to go out again since I got myself a boyfriend. I only need one. I don't need to go try to find a second one.”

The eye roll he gives you makes you feel like you’re winning this conversation. “Very funny. (YN) just go to the party. It’s just a get together on the rooftop of Seungcheol and Shau’s place. We’re not going clubbing or anything.”

“Why do you and Wonwoo want me to go so badly?”

“Because your boyfriend wants to be able to show you off. Wonwoo wasn’t really a relationship guy before you. Let him be the doting boyfriend he loves to be with you.” It seems like both you and Wonwoo we’re fine on your own before you met.

“Are you going to bring any one?” You attempt to change the subject.

Leaning back in his chair he suddenly seems shy. “I have a friend who might come with me.”

“Is this certain friend a girl who works at your favorite coffee place.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you smile before taking a drink of your coffee. “Has she ridden on your motorcycle yet?”

A smile pulls at his lips, “maybe.”

-

You’ve been home from work for about an hour before Wonwoo lets himself into your apartment. He finds you sitting on your couch with your laptop looking at a book manuscript.

He looks extremely hot with little effort. He’s wearing jeans, a tight fitting white shirt and a leather jacket. It’s clear by the helmet in hand he rode his motorcycle over.

“Hi,” you close your laptop.

He doesn’t say anything, he walks over and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss.

“I thought I would stop by before heading to Cheol’s birthday.”

“Did you miss me already,” you tease.

“I always miss you.” He pulls away sitting his helmet on the coffee table.

“You just saw me this morning.”

“Maybe that’s too long ago for me,” he sits down next to you.

“How can I get you to go to Cheol’s party with me?” With the amount of times he’s brought up this party it’s clear it's important to him. You’re starting to feel selfish for giving him such a hard time about it. When it comes to being in a relationship with him you know you both need to compromise sometimes.

“You really want me to go, huh?”

“It would be the first time most of the group is together and I would like to introduce you to more people.” He pushes his fingers through his hair. “Also a few of the guys Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Shau’s girlfriends will all be there.”

“I'm already friends with Soonyoung and his girlfriend. Are we forgetting she was my college roommate?”

“Just humor me and come. Please.”

“Do you have a second helmet or are we taking a cab to Cheol’s?”

“Let’s take cab so you can wear one of your cute little dresses.”

-

Parties and get together we’re never your favorite situation to be in. Things don’t feel as overwhelming when Wonwoo is holding your hand through it all.

All of Wonwoo’s friends are nice and they all seem very excited to get to know you.

Jeonghan went on a rant telling you how Wonwoo talks about you all the time at work. You feel your cheeks burn as you hear about all the kind things your boyfriend says about you.

Mingyu arrives at the party with a pretty girl. You assume it’s the girl you’ve heard him talk about. Anytime he’s ever mentioned her he sounds absolutely smitten.

“I think that girl with Mingyu might actually make him change his ways,” Wonwoo whispers in your ear. You’ve through working with Mingyu, and from dating his best friend/roommate that Mingyu isn’t normally the dating type. He likes to love and leave them. Most of his relationships seem to be only sexual.

“He looks happy,” you say.

“He is. Maybe he’ll find what we have,” he kisses your temple. “I’m going to get a drink. Why don’t you talk Vernon?”

Your boyfriend heads off to the table that is set up as a makeshift bar. Walking over to the edge that looks out onto the city. Vernon is standing there with a red cup in his hand. He seems lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Vernon looks up at you before taking a sip of his drink.

“Do you ever think that you’re destined to be with someone?”

You’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. Your opinions on it now are drastically different then they would have been at the beginning of the year. “You know if you would have asked me this three months ago I would have said no. But since meeting Wonwoo I feel like a part of me has always been missing before him. He makes me feel whole in a way I didn’t even know was possible.”

He leans back against the rail, “sounds like you’re in love.”

“I’ve been in love before, but nothing has ever felt like this.”

Vernon gives you a smile before taking another drink. “Sounds to me like maybe Wonwoo is your soulmate.”

That word has been floating around in your head for over a month. At the rate you fell in love with Wonwoo it didn’t feel real. Before him you were perfectly fine being alone. But somehow he changed everything.”

“Maybe he is,” looking over at the bar area you find him smiling while he’s listening to Joshua and Jun tell him something. You love when he smiles and makes your heart flutter. “I think I need to tell him I love him.”

“Have you guys not said the big L word?”

“Not yet. I think I will tonight.”

Vernon has always been someone special to you. He always seemed to understand more than any of your friends. “Why did you ask about being destined to be with someone?”

“It’s nothing,” he looks down at his feet.

“Vernon, just tell me.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, “I used to think I was destined to be with Sweetie back in college. But like clearly that didn’t work out and it’s a good thing it didn’t because her and Soonyoung are so happy,” he looks off into the corner where Soonyoung and his girlfriend are clearly having an intimate conversation. “I always cared about her and I definitely loved her back then, but there is someone else now.”

“The neighbor girl?” You’ve heard him mention the girl who lived across from him, Chan, and Seokmin. He just nods. “Is she still with that guy?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on her,” he sighs. “I found her crying outside her apartment again yesterday.”

“Have you guys gotten closer?”

“Yeah. I can’t really keep my feelings out of it either.”

“Have you thought about telling her? Maybe it would give her a reason to leave him.”

“It’s crossed my mind.”

Wonwoo walks up behind pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Hey Vernon.” He reaches over patting Vernon on the shoulder.

“Hey Wonwoo. I’m gonna give you guys a minute.” Vernon instantly excuses himself.

“Is he okay?” Wonwoo asked.

“I think he will be.” You can’t help but be sad for Vernon. He hasn’t exactly been the luckiest when it comes to the dating department.

Wonwoo hands you a red cup with what looks like beer in it. Staring at him watching as he takes a sip you feel like a college girl drinking beer out of plastic cups with the boy she’s fascinated with.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah baby?” He gives you that same smile that melts you every time.

“I love you.” Normally you would be terrified to say those words first, but with Wonwoo you’re anything but scared.

“That’s good, because I’m head over heels for you,” he steps closer to you. Leaning down presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss.

“Does that mean you love me?” You want to hear him say those three little words.

“I absolutely love you.”

You lean forward and kiss him again. You won’t ever get enough of the feeling of his lips on yours. Wrapping his arms around you he holds you close. There is something so warm and safe about being in his arms.

He releases you from his hold and leans down pressing his lips to your again.

“I need to use the restroom,” you want to get Wonwoo alone away from all his friends for a few moments.

“It’s downstairs in Cheol’s place.”

“I really need you to go with me,” you lace your fingers with his.

“Oh, I’m assuming you don’t need to pee?”

“Not at all.”

-

Bent over the sink he slowly thrust into you. Glancing up into the mirror, your eyes focus on Wonwoo reflection. The site of his hair a little messy and his glasses on as he fucks you turns you on even more. Strong hands grip your hip as he thrust into you quickly.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he groans. Reaching around he takes one of your boobs in his hands. You learned very early on that Wonwoo has an obsession with your boobs. He loves playing with them while you fuck.

“You’re doing so good for me,” his praises do nothing but spur you on. “You take me so well.”

“Fuck- you feel so good,” you quitely whine.

His hips snap into yours at a quick pace. He’s normally not this quick or rough, but doing this in Seungcheol’s apartment bathroom while everyone is up on the rooftop means he can’t take his time with you.

“I love you,” you moan.

“Say it again,” he continues thrusting into you.

“I love you Wonwoo.”

Putting your hand over your mouth you desperately try to muffle your moans. Everyone might be up on the roof top but you don’t want to risk someone coming into the apartment and hearing what you and your boyfriend are doing. They don’t need to hear you screaming because he’s absolutely railing you in the bathroom.

“I love you,” he moans.

“Harder,” you moan.

He snaps his hips even harder than before. If you weren’t bent over the counter he might knock you over with how hard he’s thrusting into you. Grabbing your bicep he lifts you up so you’re flush against him as his hips thrust into you. His hand slides push the straps of your dress down to access your breast. He squeezes tightly playing with your taunt nipple.

“Baby,” you whimper.

“Fuck-“

You normally like to look at him during sex but he’s hitting inside you so incredibly deep you’re practically seeing stars.

Fall apart together moaning each other's name. He rolls his hips slowly helping you ride out your high while he paints your inside walls white.

“Maybe coming inside me wasn’t a good idea at a party.”

Slowly he pulls out leaving you feeling empty. Your hand reaches down to your core where his cum is already leaking out. He stands there blissed out staring at you. He dips his finger through your slit picking up some of his release. He holds it up to your mouth and without even thinking you lick it off his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“Maybe we should clean me up, so everyone doesn’t know fucked in the birthday boy’s bathroom.” You say earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

Going back up to the rooftop you try to act like nothing happened downstairs with you and Wonwoo. You let him hold your hand taking you around the party talking to all of his friends. Even though you don’t like parties or anything like that you realize you’ll go to any of them with Wonwoo because you know that makes him happy. You honestly will do anything for him if it will make him happy.

Laying in bed you look over at Wonwoo. He’s adjusting his glasses as he reads something on his phone.

“Wonwoo?”

“Baby?”

“I might sound crazy, but I think you’re my soulmate. I haven’t ever loved anyone like I love you.”

He sets his phone down and gives you a smile, “I thought I was crazy too. I definitely love you more then anyone I have ever loved before.”

“I feel like you have my heart, body, and soul,” you say.

“You have stolen every part of my existence,” he leans over, pressing his lips to yours for a heated kiss. The longer you’re with him the more you realize he is truly the king of your heart, body, and soul.

[maxwellatoms]

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

[rinhaler]

😩🤌 HOLD OOOOON JEALOUS UNCLE SUKUNA PLEASE? Extra Rough with a Sprinkle of loving

I got carried away but when don't I get carried away tbh also this is super icky sorry in advance hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, kinda cheating?, vaginal penetration, anal mention/slight teasing, degradation, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, hair pulling, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 4.3k

There are eyes on you that you don’t feel. For the first time in your life, you don’t feel them. You’re engrossed in your phone as you swing gently in the hammock chair on your porch. The one that’s been continuously taken care of and maintained by him.

He watches you as you smile and bite your lip, your thumbs moving a mile a minute as you send reply after reply and wait with bated breath for a response in return. Even clearing his throat does little good. Is he really so invisible to you, now?

“Who is he?” he asks, muttering to your younger brother as he stands at the entry gate in your front yard. Your brother is confused, unsure of who he’s talking about. He looks around, until Sukuna looks at him directly. “You aren’t that stupid, are you? Look at her. Who’s the idiot she’s texting?”

Your brother looks in your direction, the cogs coming to life in his brain as he realises what he’s talking about. He smiles at him, but it soon fades as he sees your uncles disgruntled expression.

“Oh, she’s been bringing this guy around a lot called Megumi but she keeps saying they’re just friends. We all think it’s bullshit but—”

“That’s enough.” he groans. He puts his finger and thumb into his mouth and whistles loudly. Your eyes dart up from your phone, your giddy expression soon changes to one of surprise. “Hiya, princess.” he greets you, disappointed expression unchanging.

You get up from your seat, dropping your phone, and walk over to him. Even with both of his hands filled with gift bags, he wraps one around you and holds the small of your back. He kisses your cheek sweetly, pulling away to look at you properly.

“You’re getting prettier by the day, sweetheart.” he finally smiles. “You should drop out and become a model.”

“Looks fade, uncle Ryo, I’ll be a lawyer ‘til I’m old and grey.” you smirk. “You got us gifts again? You didn’t have to.”

“Speak for yourself.” Yuuji mumbles as he walks by you and into the house.

Your uncle shakes his head at him, a warm smile returning to him as he looks at you. You allow him to guide you inside, your phone a distant memory while his hand holds your shoulder.

You join Yuuji in the front room, sitting beside him on the couch while your uncle places the bags in front of you both. He sits nearby, in your dad’s old chair, while he watches you both sift through your gifts.

Well, you assume he’s watching you both. But those ruby eyes of his remain perfectly fixed on you. They wander to Yuuji every so often when he expresses gratitude for the gifts he’s received, but all he cares about, truly, is you.

“Is this a new laptop?” you ask, jaw almost dropping to the floor as you see it. “This must have cost a fortune. You didn’t have to do this.” you smile.

“It’s fine, I got you both one. What’s the point of my sister having kids if I can’t spoil them? Where is she, by the way?”

“Wait,” you stop him as you go through the rest of your gifts. “New stationary, bags, files. You got me all of this stuff for college? Thank you.” you beam. You jump up and sit in his lap, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing tightly, the intensity makes him wonder if you’ll ever let go.

Unfortunately for him, you do.

“She texted me a few minutes ago saying they’ve changed her shift and she won’t be back until late.” Yuuji says nonchalantly as he continues looking through his stuff.

“What?! She said she’d give me a ride tonight. I’m gonna have to get a taxi, where’s my phone?” you ask, leaping up from your seat in your uncle’s lap as you check all of your pockets. You head towards the front door to check the last place you’d been with it, when you suddenly feel his hand encase your wrist.

“Talk to me.”

“She’s meant to be taking me to the movies for my d- uh, I’m meeting a friend.” you explain.

“Boyfriend, you mean.” Yuuji mumbles before coughing loudly to cover up his comment.

“Shut up.” you snap back. “But I’m gonna have to book a taxi and start getting ready now in case I’m late. Thanks for the gifts, uncle Ryo.” you smile as you turn away to leave. But he squeezes your wrist hard, pulling you back to him.

“I’ll take you. Alright?” he tells you. “Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Really?” you smile. “Thank you.”

“… What are uncles for, hm?”

Hours pass, time spent doing your makeup and choosing an outfit with texts sent to Megumi in between. Sukuna’s foot has been tapping incessantly as he waits for you, resisting the urge to check in on you every five minutes. He’d give anything to be in your room while you dress, allowing him to approve of your attire.

But instead, you appear hours later in a pair of shorts that would make him lose control in his younger years, but even now, he feels stirring in his slacks. A slight tightening that he’s fighting to ignore.

“Not leaving anything to the imagination, are you?” he grumbles, looking you up and down. You’re too irritated by his comment to notice the fact his eyes linger on your bare midsection and rake over your chest. Your little crop top almost looks too small for you, to him, with the way it accentuates your tits. “It’s a bit much for a movie.”

“Don’t start, I’m not changing. It’s so hot out I just wanna be comfy. Can we go?”

“Move, then.” he scowls.

You scoff, walking out ahead of him. He watches as you walk away before trailing after you. You’re mistaking his rage for sulking. You’ve never seen your uncle angry, not really.

If only you knew, he’s seething.

You spend twenty minutes in the car with him, panicking that you’re going to be late. You’d hate to picture Megumi there, waiting for you all on his own. You’ve texted him a few times to let him know you’re on your way, but you’re yet to hear back from him.

“Can you, like, do something?!” you ask before gluing your eyes back to your phone.

“What?” your uncle responds, teeth clenched as he looks over to you. His anger brewing further as he sees Megumi’s name with a bunch of heart emojis at the top of your phone. “Should I pick up the car and carry you it through the streets for you, darlin’?”

“If it’ll get us there faster, yes.”

“Tch.” he scoffs. “You know the world won’t end if you put your phone down for five minutes.”

“I’m letting him know I’m gonna be late! Is that alright with you?!”

“Him. The boyfriend, not friend. You lied.” and before he can stop himself, he speaks without thinking. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Your eyes widen at his words. And you can’t decide if you’re furious or devastated. Ashamed? Is he ashamed of you? You don’t know why he would be. He’s never said anything so mean to you before. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever said anything cruel to you in your life.

“What’s your problem?” you speak, your volume a little louder than intended.

“You are. I don’t even recognise you. Throwing yourself at college boys and dressing like a little slut. I thought I brought you up better than that.”

“You didn’t bring me up. Just because you visit with gifts every few months doesn’t mean you’re my fucking dad, Ryo. You’re barely an uncle.” you bite back. There’s more you could say, but you’re silenced by an incoming text from Megumi. “FUCK! I’m so stupid. Take me home, I got the time wrong.”

He grunts, turning the car around roughly before he parks down a nearby alleyway.

“Get out.” he orders.

“Huh?”

“Get out of my car, princess. You think you can disrespect me like that in my own fucking car? Get out and call a cab.”

Your heart sinks when you realise he’s far from joking. He actually wants you to get out of his car. In fact, he’s waiting for it. It’s hard to know if it’s genuine, if he’s legitimately planning on leaving you in a creepy alleyway all on your own and driving away. You hope he’s just trying to scare you, but the air is getting thicker.

His stare becomes harsher.

Your heart beats faster.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disrespect you…” you pout. “Don’t make me get out, please. You’ve been so… off with me today. And I’m embarrassed I got the time of this date wrong and—”

“So it is a date after all, huh?” he sighs.

“We’re, ugh, we’re friends but—” you cover your face in embarrassment. “We keep talking about taking things further, but it’s just a movie I don’t know if it’s a date. Maybe we’re just gonna be friends forever and he isn’t interested at all.” and with that, you’re officially sulking, humiliated that you spilt your little secret to your uncle of all people. You feel his eyes on you, but you don’t want to look.

If they’re the same harsh eyes that told you he’s ashamed, you don’t want to see them ever again.

“Is that why you’re dressed like an easy whore tonight? Hah? Thought he’d be more interested if you put more on show.”

“Why are you being such a dick?!” you yell. The silence is too much, his bewildered face catches you off guard. It’s like he hadn’t expected you to raise your voice. You both maintain your silence, equally at a loss for words. But it goes on too long, and unintentionally, you feel the need to fill it. “What, are you jealous? Bet it’s been a while since you got any action, old man.”

“Old?” he scoffs. “What are you talking about, action? You wouldn’t do that… would you?” he asks, there’s venom coating his tongue, but it’s overridden by curiosity.

“Why do you think I dressed like such a… ‘little slut’, huh?” you laugh as his expression changes once again, he’s uncomfortable, so you decide to poke the beast. “We got seats in the back row… I don’t even care about the movie, it’s just an excuse to put our hands down each other’s pants.”

“That’s enough.”

“Why?”

You watch him as he unbuckles his seatbelt with haste. If you had blinked you would have missed it, and it’s not long before he does the same to yours. You’re weightless as he pulls you from your seat and into his lap, a few pathetic ‘ow’s’ leave your lips as he positions you over him.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, a combination of worry and curiosity overwhelming you.

“You really wanna get felt up at the movies by a little college boy? How pathetic you are… I thought you were better than that.” you’re too stunned to speak as his words consume you. Has he always been so protective of you? Has he always had this side to him? You don’t want to move. You barely want to think in case he doesn’t like how your thoughts sound. You gulp, nervously, and he smirks in amusement.

His fingers trail lightly across your chin before he holds it carefully between his thumb and forefinger. He licks his lips as his eyes examine your features. There is hunger in his ruby irises, a starved man sizing up the meal he’s worked so hard for.

But he’s patient.

He thinks it’ll be fine, nothing he does will make you object.

Though he can’t be too careful. So he proceeds with caution, allowing his fingers to carry on tracing downwards. Your wide eyes turn to a heavy lidded gaze as you feel the pads of his fingers softly dance across the column of your neck. His eyes follow the path they take, looking up once or twice to make sure you still aren’t opposed to his touch.

You gulp, again, when you feel him touch atop your breasts, and his eyes stay fixed on yours for a moment longer. But he’s greedy, now, unable to withstand the growing bulge in his pants or the thoughts he has about you in order to cure him.

He hooks his index finger into the low scoop of your crop top and pulls downwards. You’re unable to stop yourself from shuddering, and he looks up at you with a sympathetic stare.

“This is… wrong.” you speak, a slight whimper in your voice.

He grins, though he tries to hide it from you.

“How can it be wrong, sweetheart?” he asks. He holds your hips in heavy hands and pushes you down onto his clothed erection. “Feel how good you make me feel? Let me make you feel good, too. Megumi won’t satisfy you, I promise you that.”

“Ryo…” you sigh, soon stifled as he helps you roll your hips onto him. “It’s wrong… you know it is…”

“Well, maybe I don’t care,” he hisses, his cock leaking from the friction between you. He allows his head to droop back against the head rest behind him, smiling up at you as he realises you’re beginning to move all on your own. “I don’t think you do, either.”

Your eyes fill with water, and you bat your eyelashes in a bid to dismiss it. How did this happen? How did you get to this point? Maybe you’ve been waiting for Megumi for too long. Maybe some part of you knew you’d end up here with him. And maybe you want it just as much as he seems to.

“Naughty girl… give me a kiss,” he demands, fingers caressing the column of your spine before he pushes you down towards him.

A little whine escapes your lips before you submit to him. The feelings of his bulge nudging against your clit is enough to make you lose all sense. It’s clumsy and uncomfortable, a chaste kiss as if you were kissing your uncle turns into a sloppy, tongue tangling kiss as you soon dismiss that familial bond.

He pulls away, groaning slightly before he yanks down your crop top and exposes your bare tits.

His jaw tenses as he looks up at you again, as if he were withholding something he so desperately desired to say. But instead, he silences himself, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking experimentally.

Your eyes roll back into your head, your hand carding through tufts of pink hair. It’s been a while since you’d been intimate with anyone like this, the sensation making you weak and needy. The slightest touch feels enough to make you cum, though you hold back, savouring the way his hand holds your other breast and rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb.

You wonder if he sleeps around a lot, you wonder if he’s gotten laid recently. You want to know how good he is. You’ve heard from girlfriends that older men do it better, but you’ve never experimented so cavalierly, you wouldn’t even know where to meet one.

Little did you know you’ve had an older man vying for your attention all along.

“How do you like it?” he asks, breath fanning across your drool soaked tit before he swaps which one he suckles. You hiss a little as he grazes your perked nipple purposefully between his teeth.

“I— It’s good,” you say, shyly, body heating up further when you hear a small laugh leave his lips.

“No, baby. How do you like to fuck?” he asks again. You think you might pass out from the shame. Though it’s shameful enough that you’re allowing your uncle to suck your tits. You screw your eyes shut before opening them again, hoping that this could possibly be a bad dream you just need to wake up from. But he’s still there when you open your eyes, still looking up at you with a cocky grin as he observes your embarrassment consuming you.

“I don’t— I don’t really—”

“You’ve proven yourself to be a little slut, so you must have a preference. What happened to that mouth of yours, huh? You were so desperate to talk about your little classmate touching you up later.” he reminds you, and you pant from the humiliation. Any attempt to wriggle away is halted by him wrapping his arms around your torso and keeping your body glued to his. “How many little pricks have you let slut your cunt out, sweetheart?”

“Ryo…” you gasp, breathing becoming erratic. It’s too much, he chuckles as you start to fan yourself. “I don’t know anymore. I can’t think.” you explain.

“Have you lost count, princess? That’s disgusting, don’t you think?” he tuts, mock repulsion lacing his words. He only half means it. He’s disgusted that so many useless little boys have felt you wrapped around them without any inkling of how to truly satisfy you. “They don’t matter, now. No one will make you feel as good as I’m going to, you won’t want anyone else when I’m through.”

“This is… it’s a one time thing. Okay?” you tell him, and his smug smile only grows wider.

“We’ll see,” he starts, his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass as your shorts ride up. A pathetic yelp flees from you as his stinging palm lands on your body. “I don’t really care how you like it, I was just curious.”

“… how do you like it, Ryo?”

“It depends, princess.” he bites his lower lip. “But if it’s just this once, you’ll let me fuck you how I like. You’ll be a good girl for uncle Ryo, won’t you?”

You blink a few times. Are you really so easily manipulated? Are you really still grinding down on the throbbing bulge of your uncle? Your silence speaks volumes, to him. And with his patience wearing thin, you find yourself being thrown awkwardly into the back seat.

He takes a deep breath before stepping out, from behind the wheel and opening the back door.

You watch him as he unbuckles his belt, and he smiles when he notices you watching. He slows down the action, allowing you to savour the sight of him undressing. He stops after his cock springs free, slapping off his abdomen and leaving a pretty trail of pre on his pristine white shirt.

“Have you never seen a big dick before? You look scared.” He chuckles. You don’t say a word, and without realising you’re shaking your head. You thought you had, but apparently they were nothing in comparison to actual big dicks. You’re terrified, almost horrified, but you can’t look away.

Not until he tells you.

“Sluts take it from behind. Turn around.” he orders, and you immediately position yourself onto your hands and knees.

You squeal when his fingers curl into the waistband of your shorts and yank aggressively. He doesn’t pull them off, they remain around your thighs and keep your legs perfectly pressed together. His cock throbs at the sight, holding one of your ass cheeks and moving your lower half from side to side. You’d decided to forgo panties, and he couldn’t be happier.

The sight of your drooling cunt makes up for what has felt like an eternity of patience.

You scream, again, as you feel a multitude of spanks in quick succession. He thinks he might legitimately lose it at the sight of your holes clenching, and surprise rips through you as you feel a thumb pressed to your puckered hole. You cover your mouth to stop you from yelping at the unexpected touch, but he merely groans.

“Have you taken it here before?” he asks.

“… no… I h—aven’t,” you answer honestly. He hums in contemplation. He spits down onto your asshole and rubs his thumb across it gently.

“Next time, hm?” he muses to himself. Despite his words, he guides his cockhead to your tight hole. The thick tip rubbing teasingly against it. He doesn’t breach it, but the teasing alone feels pleasant. “I think you’ll like it…”

And with that, he moves from your rear entrance and plunges brutally into your drooling slot. You cry out, the unexpected entry taking you by surprise. He hushes and coos as your walls adjust to his girth.

The intensity of the pressure gives away to pleasure soon enough. Internally, he wants to be rough with you. He will be rough with you. However, he can’t ignore the fact that you are and always have been so precious to him. The thought of hurting you is hold him back.

But a deeper, darker part of him with a bruised ego overrides his conscience.

His fingers grab your hair harshly and wrap around his hand as if you were a dog on a leash. He pulls you until your back arches gloriously for him, and he uses the leverage to fuck into you harder.

He’s all too aware of the risks he’s taking. If anyone were to walk by they’d see exactly what he’s doing and has made no attempt to hide. Standing confidently outside the car with your ass on full display for anyone who’d dare to look. He could get arrested, your family could find out.

But it’s been too long of a wait for this taboo coupling for him to let something so trivial deter him from this. From you.

He’d like to hold off in favour of extending your pleasure. He’d like to see you cum and make a mess of his cock before he fills you to the brim with his creamy load. He’d like to see your pussy twitch and struggle to hold in his kids after he fucks them into you.

But he’s just a man, after all.

He doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He did, but this is for him. His heavy tip rocks repeatedly into your sweet spot and your raucous moans are bound to catch attention sooner or later. He’d love to stifle you in some matter, whether by covering your mouth or shoving his cock down your throat. But he can’t. His hands are still filled as one remains wrapped around your hair and the other keeps a bruising grasp on your hip.

He wants to tell you to shut up, he wants to tell you you’re being too loud and you’re soon to be spotted. But he can’t, he’s proud of you. Your pussy begins to suck him in and pulses around his thickness.

He chuckles and further fuels your shame as your pussy begins to gush from the pressure. Clear liquid jets out of you, dousing his cock, your shorts and his leather seats as you cum from the staggering sensation of being ploughed by your very own uncle.

The sight has him gritting his teeth as he uses your quivering cunt to reach his own satisfaction. His head falls back as he spurts stream after stream of viscous white cum into your womb. The warmth makes you hum contently, giggling as his movements slow, still determined to fuck his seed deep into you. He doesn’t even want to pull out, but the chill of the night air brings him to his senses.

You’ve been lucky to get away with this.

He pulls out, admiring the sight of his sperm dripping down into your shorts as he tucks himself away.

Your body is tired, but you find the strength to pull up your now soiled shorts before slowing making your way back to the passenger seat. You sigh, taking a few deep breaths as you contemplate what just happened.

“You look tired.” your uncle says casually as he starts up the car.

He’s right. You look at yourself in the mirror before you fold it back up, too disgusted with yourself to even look at how dishevelled and smeared your perfectly applied makeup has become. It’s all ruined. There’s no point in seeing Megumi, now. As excited as you were, you can’t go like this. You can’t let him see you like this.

Whenever you see someone walk by as your uncle drives you home, you can’t help but think they know. When your car stops at a red light, you think the people in the car beside you know. If you go and see Megumi tonight…

He’ll know.

YOU: sorry Megs, can we reschedule? My uncle just got to town x MEGUMI: of course. don’t worry about it, have fun with your uncle x

He reads your messages out of the corner of his eye, and does all he can to supress the satisfied smirk desperate to break out across his face. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, he understands. You did something wrong. But that isn’t why it’s so quiet.

You’re quiet, and uncomfortable, because you liked it.

You can’t make eye contact with him, because you liked it.

And you can’t talk to him normally, because you want to do it again.

Your body language tells him all he needs to know. He’ll be in town for as long as you need to wrap your head around this. As long as you need to confess how desperately you desire him once more. It’ll only be one more time. Every time you tell him, beg him, crave him to make you feel good again, you’ll say it’s the last time.

But that one last time will never come.

Poor Megumi, he has no idea just how much fun your uncle intends to have with you.

© 2024 rinhaler

[inkskinned]

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.

[letorip]

crimson & clover

“now i don't hardly know her, but i think i could love her"

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x mute!reader

summary: people fear that which they do not understand. it makes sense then, why you and wednesday fall in love and help each other

warnings: erm you killed a lot of people on accident, angsty in the middle there, threats of violence, descriptions of violence

word count: 5.1k

A/N: heavily inspired by black bolt, who i really do think is one of my favourite heroes. there will likely be a part 2 or 3 to this but for rn my attention is on kiss with a fist. THERE WILL ALSO BE A PART [IV] OF SOMETHIN' STUPID

KISS WITH A FIST [IV] WILL BE UP NEXT SUNDAY

===+++===

===+++===

There were certain things you couldn’t have, when one had the ability to do incredible damage, if they just opened their mouth.

When you did so, on a random Saturday morning at 10 years old, and your house burst apart, it took your parents and a chunk of the neighbourhood with it in a fiery tempest that stabbed you right through the heart. You learned then, that maybe you weren't meant to have a family.

At age 12, when the kids at the Home for Outcast Children strung you up from the monkey bars by your ankles, and you couldn’t hold in a laugh from how the world looked funny when the sky looked like the floor, you learned you weren’t meant to have friends, sitting silently in the dirty crater where the playground used to be with your head tucked into your knees.

You had thought it would be implied then, that you would never have a lover, either. But then again, there was Wednesday Addams.

It was still a mystery, why she chose you. You had assumed she would want nothing to do with you just like she didn’t want anything to do with most people, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The both of you met about a week after she arrived at Nevermore, in the dead of night on one of the walks you always took when everyone else had gone to bed and there was no one to watch you, no one to murmur as you went past. You didn't pose a danger to anyone, then, and it was liberating and also deeply melancholic.

That was when you were most at peace. Your thoughts, even though well-reasoned, could not be expressed. You wrote often, in a leather-bound notebook you’d let no one see, but the power was given to writing through reading it, and there was no one you could have close enough to do so. It made you tired, to be around people you couldn’t communicate with. Few people wanted to wait for you to write something out on a notebook and even fewer wanted to learn sign language.

Kinbott had a dry-erase whiteboard in her office that was just meant for you and the only deaf person in Jericho, though the old man had gone missing a few months ago, without a trace. It was humiliating, at first, and you used to write two-word sentences, curt responses doing the bare minimum, often out of anger— whether it was anger from your situation or anger at being a teenager, you didn’t know— but now you could fill it with paragraphs and kept a notebook for when communication was especially necessary.

That night itself was peaceful, with gentle, twinkling stars that were only lightly polluted by the quad’s towering lamps. You could still see their faint outlines above you, with casting shadows down the lawn from the roof’s spires, and it smelled as if it were going to rain soon.

When you heard the scuttling of something on the floor, you jumped, startled, eyes shooting down to where you were certain you had felt someone’s fingers grip at your leg. Your eyes widened in surprise at the disembodied hand, racing up the uneven cobblestones and then up the leg of someone at the far end of the quad, landing finally on her shoulder.

Wednesday with her arms crossed, looking at you with a comically large bag slung over her shoulder that must've contained all of her belongings, like a runaway in the night.

Oh. That's what she was.

You blankly stared back at her, blinking at her figure. She took a menacing step forward, her grip on the bag tightening. "Are you following me?" she asked, tone icy. When you kept looking at her without so much as opening your mouth, her apathetic eyes narrowed. "If you tell anyone you saw me, they will never find your body. Don't say a word."

It was intended to be a threat, and if it had been anyone else, it probably would've made their blood run ice over just from how cold her gaze was. But you just raised your eyebrows at her, unable to stop the amusement from tugging at the corners of your lips. The irony was very far from lost on you, and the more serious she seemed the more funny the blunder was.

"What?" she snipped. "Is something amusing to you?"

Again, you could not say. You silently shook your head, tilting it then out of curiosity, and gently pointing towards the hand on her shoulder. It sat up at your attention, sending a friendly wave in your direction. Your eyes widened, waving before Wednesday could clear her throat and pull your eyes back up to hers.

Her eyes in question were dark and intense, but beautiful, even under the dim lighting, and you had to swallow what felt like a lump in your throat, in order to regain your composure. "Why are you silent?" she asked, narrowing them at you. You were under her microscope, and she scanned you, looking for anything that would impair your immediate voice.

You raised up a hand as if to say ‘hold on,’ before tugging your notebook out from your overcoat, flipping it open and pulling out your pen. With a click, you were scribbling down on the paper, and Wednesday narrowed her eyes at you again, scanning you in suspicion.

When you were done, you flipped it around, holding it up to her eyes with a gentle smile. 'Trust me, I don't think you'll need to worry about me telling anyone anything, anytime soon.'

Her eyes combed over the words, then glanced back down to you. "Why is—" she opened her mouth out of curiosity, but a heavy door slammed shut down the hall, and she whipped around before she could finish the question.

You both could hear the footsteps coming closer, and Wednesday straightened up, grip tightening on the bag over her shoulder. "You didn't see me, and you won't ever again," she said, coldly.

You nodded, not that you believed she'd make it out. You yourself had tried to run away for the first month and a half, and after long enough, one just gave up. Nevermore was hard to escape; you doubted she had readied a good enough plan in just a few days of being there. Still, you wished her luck. The forest was dangerous, and especially now.

With a final nod in your direction, she hastily walked off, down the corridor the opposite way. You watched her go, calmly sitting near the fountain. A few moments after she disappeared down a different hallway, a very tired looking Weems came down the stairs in her nightgown, holding onto a rusted lantern.

When she saw you, she sighed. "What did I say about those nighttime walks of yours, (Y/n)?"

You smiled, tilting your head to the side and shrugging at her. Weems huffed at your attempt at cluelessness, shaking her head fondly. "Just make sure you get yourself to bed soon, alright?"

You nodded, leaning back on the fountain edge and tracing the grout lines with your thumbs. Weems turned back to the hallway Wednesday went down. "I guess Miss Addams is planning to escape tonight?" But you didn't write anything down, raising your eyebrows at her as if to say 'duh.' Weems adjusted the hem of her nightgown from where it had dragged gently on the steps. "Thank you, (Y/n). I'll see you tomorrow."

She began to follow down the path Wednesday had taken, letting the lantern lead her through the dim corridor, and you silently yawned, picking up your notebook and figuring you had enough adventure for the night.

===+++===

That was your first unofficial meeting, at least. You almost forgot it had happened the following morning, except for when Wednesday showed up in class the next day looking more displeased and unhappy to be there than normal.

It was amusing how frustrated she was, mouth drawn into an annoyed line and eyes looking especially dark. When she caught your eye as she went to take her seat, you averted your gaze back down to your notebook to hide your cheeky smile, resuming your doodle in the margin and running a nervous hand through your hair.

She kept staring throughout the lecture, as if silently daring you to mention her failure, not that you could aloud. You weren’t willing to look back, but you could see her dark eyes shift up and across the round of tables towards you from the corner of your eye, which you made sure to keep on Thornhill.

After long enough, Xavier noticed too. He whispered something to her and then glanced up at you with a look that was far from friendly. He hadn't liked you one bit, but neither did any of the other kids, when they found out. You couldn't exactly blame them, either. The school was full of monsters, but you were a monster among monsters.

"Wednesday, Xavier," Thornhill called out, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry, though. More playful. "Is something more important than our study of carnivorous plants?"

Xavier began to shake his head, starting an apology, but Wednesday cut him off, blankly staring back at Thornhill as it left her mouth. "Yes."

At the challenge, the whole class seemed to let out a comically loud gasp. Thornhill's previously teasing smile dropped to a displeased frown, and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls, motioning to the large glass enclosure on the table behind her. "I don't suppose you can tell me what this is, then?" At the question, you can see Bianca smirk and raise her own hand, eager to steal it away, "I haven't said the name out loud yet, and it will be on your test next—"

"—Dendrophylax lindenii." The interruption came swift from her lips, but Wednesday's eyes are still steeled over and unimpressed by Thornhill's attempt to be put on the spot.

You have to hide your amusement again, at the shocked look on Bianca's face, but she rushes to make up for it by adding something of her own. "It's also known as the Ghost Orchid—”

"—First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1852," Wednesday adds, and once more she's won. Or, she would have. You can't help the shake your head does, or the cheeky smile on your face that Wednesday locks onto, like a heatseeking missile. Her eyes are like daggers, stabbing you through and through. "Is something funny?"

She says it across the entire classroom and everyone goes silent, less focused on the plants now and more the fact that she's acknowledging your presence. You shrug, trying to diffuse the situation, but it only makes her glare at you harder. "No, go on," Wednesday demands, her tone just as icy as she had been the night before. "Tell us, what was so funny?"

"Wednesday," Thornhill warns her, sending you a sympathetic look, but she ignores her and so do you.

"Or are you still at a loss for words," she draws out, and in doing so, the rest of the class fills with 'ooh's and 'woah's. You stare at her for a moment, then silently, your hand goes to your notebook.

The moment you begin writing in it, the classroom tenses again, waiting for you to finish. You make them as big as possible, large enough that she'll be able to clearly read them across the room. When you're done, you flip it around and hold it up like a sign, face blank.

discovered 1854, not 1852

idiot.

You've circled it several times in messy pen, to make sure she really sees. The room roars even louder in surprise, and however bad Wednesday's stare was before, the new one she gives you is infinitely worse. Her face is still deadpan, but her eyes flick away down to her notebook. It’s the only time you’ve seen her approach something resembling embarrassment or fury. You're sure the 'idiot' bit didn't help, but you were far too annoyed by her poking of you to not have poked her right back.

"Well...," Thornhill tries, "It seems the Ghost Orchid isn't the only carnivorous plant in here, today." But the class is too far gone to focus up again, sending you wary glances. They don't like Wednesday, but they like you even less, so it's confusing who they should root for.

You hold her gaze until the bell rings, finally breaking it to gather your things and leave as soon as possible. Her eyes are still on you as you go, and just before you exit the room, you can hear someone mutter "freak," under their breath. You tuck your books under your arm, and duck out into the hall.

===+++===

Fall was always your favourite time of year; for once, Jericho wasn't entirely unbearable. The leaves turned a warm orange and red, falling from the trees in abundant piles on the ground, and the air fermented into something crisp and especially breathable. You let it fill your nose as much as possible.

You sat on the lawn, listening to the birds flit about and the wind brush under the branches and hem of your jumper with a book in your lap and a frown on your face. It wasn't a good book- something the internet had said was incredible but had firmly left a bad taste in your mouth, and part of you wanted to put it down and turn to something more useful. But another part of you wanted to keep reading, like being unable to look away from a car accident.

The book was so engrossing in its awfulness that you didn't notice her watching you from afar or, more so, aiming in your direction. That was, until you turned the page, and her throwing knife whizzed past your ear and lodged itself into the tree you had been sitting against.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the noise, and you turned your head to the side, looking at the shiny, reflective silver. The letters W. A. stared back at you, engraved just below the knife's spine. You frowned, and when you looked back, she was standing over you, arms crossed and expression as deadpan as always.

You raised a questioning eyebrow, looking over at the knife and then back to her as if saying, 'What was that for?'

"Your attention was required," she replied dryly.

You rolled your eyes, dog-eared the page of your book, and placed it down next to you, pulling out your notebook and your pen. You wrote a single word.

dangerous.

"Believe me, if I wanted to hit you, I am entirely capable of aiming to kill," Wednesday said. Then, after a brief look around Nevermore's green, her eyes flicked back down to you. "I'm here on business."

You search her face for a moment, narrowing your eyes. They locked in on the small bandage on her forehead, and you nodded up at it, asking her what happened with the look on your face. Her frown deepened.

"I'm in the process of crushing a bee... and almost getting crushed by a gargoyle." You blinked, but Wednesday continued. "But I won't have to do either if you agree to my request."

It's hard to deny that her words massively pique your interest. Wednesday in general massively piques your interest, and you write down the thing you really want to know.

people say you eat human flesh...

You turn the page back to her, and Wednesday seems to process the words for a moment. She looks over at you, unimpressed by the allegation. "I don't eat it. My menagerie of pets do. And even then, that's nothing close to what Enid's said about you."

You stare up at her, then scribble a couple of words on the paper.

and what's that?

"That you're dangerous. That you’re somehow infinitely worse than I am, which I'm doubtful of," Wednesday says without missing a beat. "Enid won't say anything more, and neither will Xavier." She looks around again, over the green. There's a picnic of sirens by the lake, and a few of the werewolves are playing with a frisbee. She looks back at you. "I've been warned to stay away, and your propensity for being obnoxious has made that task fairly easy so far." You begin to write again.

so why are you here

"Because," she states like it's obvious, "I want to break out of here. And you're somehow the person to have gotten the closest."

and yet

i'm still here

You turn the page to her and jab the bottom bit several times with your pointer finger.

"Well then," she says, "help me succeed."

===+++===

“And how do you think that made you feel?” Kinbott asks, eyeing her various pages of notes to the left of you. Some of the other patients in Kinbott’s care had small, yellow folders, but you had a larger red one, with your name in highlighted block letters on the front. It looked like it should’ve had a top secret sticker in the corner, not that you weren’t appreciative about your records being sealed.

You erased the board, writing a single word.

seen

Then, underneath it.

idk, like i was really there?

Kinbott nodded. “You’ve said people often ignore you a lot. Why do you think that is?”

they’re scared. they think i’ll hurt them because they heard rumours about what i did.

i can’t blame them, really

She frowned, wrapping her hands around her knee. “But that’s not really fair, is it? When was the last time you’ve caused damage with your ability, (Y/n)?”

You shrug, thinking for a moment.

about four years

“And you haven’t made any sort of mistakes, right?”

well, no

“Then why should they be afraid of you?” Kinbott asks. She’s leaning forward, looking at you with her eyes softened. “You’ve trained yourself to silently yawn, you don’t cough, you don’t sneeze, you don’t snore. I think you need to trust yourself a little more, (Y/n).”

You shrug again, but don’t write anything down, so Kinbott sighs and sits back in her chair. “Principal Weems says that she has another little Harry Houdini on her hands?”

You write down Wednesday on your board. She nods. “I’m seeing her in a little while, actually.” It makes your eyebrows raise in surprise.

why?

Kinbott shakes her head. “You know I can’t share that. Therapy is private. It seems she doesn’t plan on staying, though. Wednesday has already tried to escape.”

i know.

she asked me to help her

Her eyes scan over the words and then look back up to you, warily. “You know better than to help her, right? Nevermore could be good for Wednesday. And I thought you were actually starting to like it here.”

You nod.

i already said no

it’s too dangerous, in the woods right now. with the attacks and stuff.

“Good. And please, tell Principal Weems if you learn of any plans in the future.” You nod again, much less committed, and Kinbott looks down at her watch. “I’m afraid our time is over, (Y/n),” she says with a smile. “I’ll see you next week.”

You write a quick thank you down and stand, shoving your socks back into your shoes and tugging on your jumper, tucking it underneath the collar of your shirt and fixing your Nevermore tie. Purple stripes was never your pattern, and Weems had long since given up on trying to make you wear the coat. She figured it probably made you less likely to run away.

Wednesday is sitting in the lobby when you get down the stairs, with a bored-looking Weems come to babysit. You send her a glance, and then give Weems a nod of your head in acknowledgment.

She beams back at you. “Ah, (Y/n). We’re here for Miss Addams’ session. If you want to wander around Jericho, we can take you back to the school when we're done, if you’d like.”

You send another look at Wednesday, whose face is just as deadpan and unhappy as before, and shake your head. You point at yourself and then mime walking with your two fingers. Principal Weems frowns, but gives you and okay, and you turn around to leave.

You can feel Wednesday’s eyes on you as you head for the school. You know she's annoyed by your refusal to help her, but you can't exactly tell her why you're refusing either, especially since you're lacking any evidence for your theory. So you just told her no.

===+++===

Even from deep inside the forest, you can hear the carnival. There's a Ferris wheel towering over the trees in front of you, and circus music blasts from a few speakers so that you can faintly hear it amongst the windy branches, leaves blowing along the ground and caressing your shoes from time to time as you walk through the dark.

You're looking for something, anything, indicating someone would've been there. Sheriff Galpin had found all sorts of hikers, recently, all almost unidentifiable, with how bloodied they were, but they had yet to find anyone with a hearing aid, so you were unsatisfied. It was believed he was on vacation, but you knew the old man went to his therapy appointments every single week. He hadn't missed a single day, so you failed to believe that theory. You didn't even know his name, really.

On a tree not too far from you, there was a claw mark sunk deep into the bark, and you looked towards it, at the pattern. The idea a bear was responsible for all the deaths wasn't exactly convincing, and looking at the claws, your doubts only amplified. You pulled out your camera, aiming it towards the mark, ready to snap a shot, when you heard footsteps pounding past you.

"Rowan!" called a voice behind you, and you froze, putting the camera down and flicking your flashlight off. The last thing you needed was word getting out that you were lurking in the woods. People thought you were scary enough.

But the words weren't directed at you. You listened intently, and then you heard the faint but panicked voice again. "Rowan," Wednesday says again, and the moment you realise it's her voice, you take off running towards it.

You find Rowan with his hand held up, crushing Wednesday against a tree, and before you can stop to think, you're rushing forward, shoving him in the back and pushing him into the dirt, where he struggles to catch his breath. The moment his hand splays out in front of him, Wednesday is dropped to the forest floor. You run to her, checking her over quickly for injuries, making sure she can run. When you find none, you grab her arm, hoisting her to her feet. You send a wary look over at Rowan, who's already trying to right himself and take Wednesday's hand in yours, pulling her deeper into the forest.

It isn't long before you hear him calling out. "Wednesday!" he yells, and you freeze, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her behind a tree. You push her flush against the bark and cover her mouth with your hand, getting as close as possible so that you hide better against the trunk. She seems too scared to comment on the touch, eyes wide and chest heaving from the running. You raise your other hand and press your finger to your lips.

"Wednesday, I'm doing Nevermore a favour," he tries again. "One massive favour. You're dangerous. My mother's seen it. I can see it. Anyone who knows you can see it."

Your eyes flicker to Wednesday's in confusion, processing his words. She's staring up at you, eyes dark and full of worry, begging for him not to find you. Any idea you had about her not getting scared goes out the window. She's just as human as you are. You send her a comforting nod, peeking around the tree trunk. Rowan's a few trees away, with his back turned, scouring the area.

You begin to back away from Wednesday, gesturing over your shoulder. If you both can sneak off and go back to the carnival without Rowan noticing, you can ensure safety. She gives a curt nod, letting you take her hand in yours again. You're faster than her, she knows that. You slowly pull her with you, quietly stepping away and towards the fair.

You only make it a few steps, until Wednesday steps on a branch.

The small twig cracks under her boot, and within an instant, Rowan whips his head around to you both, staring back at him like a pair of deer in headlights. He takes a few menacing steps forward. "There you are," he draws out in between wheezy breaths. His hand comes up, ready to crush her, but before he can use his ability, a large, hulking creature grabs him by the leg, whipping him around and down onto the ground.

You and Wednesday watch in horror as Rowan screams, and the creature rears up on its hind legs, coming down and smashing Rowan with its fists. You can hear the crunching of his bones and then the tearing of flesh as the creature's claws dig into the boy's skin. Wednesday's hand is still in yours, and she squeezes it harshly, small black fingernails digging into the back of your hand, pulling you down to the ground with her and then scooting back.

The attack is short but brutal, and you see bits of Rowan's chest go flying and pure red maw. The creature whips around to you when Rowan goes silent, staring at Wednesday with intensity in its big eyes. Then it scrambles off, tearing through the woods and into the darkness.

As soon as it's gone, Wednesday rushes forward in the leaves, going to Rowan's side. You clamber to your feet, watching the direction the creature went with wide eyes. When you turn back to Wednesday, you catch her shoving something in her pocket. You don't ask what it is, but you make a mental note to ask later.

"Please," she says, a bit panicked. Her fingers are coated in Rowan's blood. "Go get Weems."

===+++===

Another not-too-awful thing about Nevermore was the breakfast. You sat at an abandoned picnic table in the corner of the quad, finishing your eggs, when Wednesday slammed her hands down on the wood with a loud thunk. You jumped in your seat, startled by the noise, dropping your egg back onto your plate.

"What exactly did you see last night?" she demanded, glaring.

Your eyes widened at her tone. It was harsher than normal, and she wore her frustration on her sleeve. A few students at nearby tables sent you suspicious and wary glances. Over Wednesday's shoulder, you could see her roommate, Enid, staring at you.

Most important was Weems, who looked down at you from the balcony above. You composed yourself and looked back down to Wednesday, shrugging nonchalantly, as if to say you didn't know.

Wednesday gritted her teeth harder. "But you do know. We saw Rowan get eviscerated by that creature. You were there. So why did you tell Weems you didn't see anything?!"

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head at her, doubling down. This was no place to get into it. No place to tell the truth. You slid your notebook towards her.

i saw him this morning.

She huffed, stomping off. You knew exactly why you saw him that morning, actually. Weems had shown you her powers a time or two, and you knew that 'Rowan' was just her in disguise. But you also didn't know if it was something you wanted to share yet. You, too, had been a bit miffed at seeing Weems pretend to be Rowan, but you also knew Weems' powers gave her an advantage, and you were too loyal to take that away from her. You owed her too much.

The question of why still rang in your mind, though. Why was she so eager to cover it up? She had never at least lied to you, so this lie seemed out of left field.

You saw the fake Rowan several times throughout the day. Each time you did your best to let Weems know you knew, and she seemed wary of you, avoiding you at every intersection. You spent the night thinking, wandering around Nevermore, stopping in the library and pulling out several books.

Wednesday had shoved something in her pocket, something that Rowan had. Something about her dooming Nevermore, about being dangerous. You raked through all the books about prophecies, not finding anything of interest and giving up at around one in the morning. No books were missing a piece of paper, and no books mentioned Wednesday's name. You could find a few references to someone named Goody, but she seemed unimportant among the other Addams ancestors, having been dead for hundreds of years. You made another mental bookmark to look more into it, later.

You trudged back to your dorm, already regretting your choices, considering you had an 8 am class in the morning. The school was peaceful again, and as you climbed the stairs, you could hear the trickle of the fountain.

But the moment your shoe placed itself upon the landing, you froze. Your door hung open slightly, just cracked, and right in the way was the same hand you had seen on your first night. You straightened up, feeling more awake, and more annoyed, now.

You pushed your own door open, knocking loudly on the wood like it wasn't your own room, illustrating your frustration. Wednesday turned towards you, unimpressed. She had your journal in her hands, the other one not meant for your communication but for your theories.

It was open to the photo you had just taken, of the claw mark. Right above it you had put the photo of the deaf old man, and right on the photo of the claw mark, you had 'Rowan' written in red sharpie and underlined several times.

You crossed your arms, glowering at her. The hand scuttled towards her, stopping halfway. "So you were hiding something," Wednesday says. "You know that Rowan isn't Rowan. You know he's dead."

You silently swallow, crossing the room until you are right in front of her. Wednesday's eye contact is intense, and you look down at your own notebook, feeling her watching you as you take it from her hands. You can feel her breath fanning against your face, and she smells like pomegranate and fresh petrichor. You turn the page to the drawing you've made of the creature. It's a little off; some of the details are fuzzy regarding last night. But it's the creature as best as you can remember it, and Wednesday nods.

"That's what I saw, too. That's what I want to find," she says. "That's what you're going to help me find."

This time, you can't find it in yourself to refuse.

===+++===

this was the first episode and a bit of episode 2. i really liked doing the mute reader but boy is it hard to write communication without dialogue. it does so much heavy lifting for characterisation. can't wait to see where this one goes, and it'll probably take me two or three parts to get through the whole season, is my hope.