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igbylicious · 23 days ago

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whichever way [woosan x reader] pt14

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: You and Wooyoung do a little online shopping for a good cause.

wc: 9.3k

ch. warnings: sub Wooyoung, dom San & reader, pegging, anal fingering / sex (Woo receiving), blowjobs, cumming untouched, hairpulling, dirty talk, degradation kink, dacryphilia (ofc), orgasm control, multiple orgasms, light spanking, Woo gets spitroasted — but first he sucks the strap uwu, petnames (‘cockslut’, ‘babygirl’, ‘good boy’ for Wooyoung, ‘baby’ for reader)

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: only the epilogue left 〒▽〒 don’t touch me i’m emotional 〒▽〒

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

The sky is already darkening by the time San gets back to the apartment building after his late afternoon gym visit, and a crisp smell hangs in the air from an autumn shower that recently passed by. It’s invigorating, keeping San bright and alert despite the satisfying ache in his body from his post-workout exhaustion.

He picks up the mail on his way back; including yours, of course. His key chain has been a little heavier for some time now, but he likes the weight and jingle of it in his hand.

San sifts through the mail as he waits for the elevator to come down. It takes a bit longer than usual, but finally the door opens with its familiar ‘ding’ — revealing one of San’s neighbours inside.

Mrs Yoon.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs Yoon,” San says awkwardly, standing aside to let her through. He tries not to think about the last time he talked to the old lady, which only makes him think about it harder, an embarrassed heat burning under his skin.

Mrs Yoon gives him a crinkled smile as she steps out the elevator. “Hello, young man,” she politely greets him back, but there is a cheeky glint in her eyes.

San’s skin burns hotter, and can’t decide if it’s a mercy or a torment that she doesn’t acknowledge their previous conversation, leaving it all unspoken between them. Instead she simply wishes San a pleasant evening and starts to walk past him, going about her business without embarrassing him any further.

She probably intends for it to be a mercy — but something nags at San as Mrs Yoon leaves, and he realises he can’t let her go just yet.

“Ah, Mrs Yoon, could you wait a moment? Please?” he asks. “There is something I’d like to talk about.”

She stops her little shuffle towards the exit, blinking at San in surprise. “Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

What’s on his mind? You. You are.

Specifically, the jaded resignation on your face when you’d brushed off San’s concern about Mrs Yoon’s boyfriend-comment; when you told him you’re used to it.

He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you need apathy to shield yourself from a world that’s oblivious to your lived experience at best, and at worst believes it’s something to be fixed. San isn’t naive; he knows he can’t take away society’s constant pressure for romantic attachment by himself. But there is something he can do right here and now.

Maybe today, he can be your shield instead.

“Um, Mrs Yoon, when we ran across you the other day… I just wanted to say, she’s not my girlfriend,” San says with calm warmth, a friendly smile on his face. Making it clear as politely as possible that he’s not starting a discussion, just stating a fact.

Mrs Yoon blinks at him in confusion, but then she breaks out in a smile of her own, filled with misplaced understanding.

“Ahhh, I see! And the other young man, he is not your boyfriend then, hm?” she grins slyly, like she’s in on some covert plot of secrecy. “I got it, your secret is safe with me. Though if I can give a piece of advice; a little more discretion wouldn’t hurt if you want to keep it a secret for much longer! If an old biddy like me has figured it out, then I can’t be the only one.”

San sighs a weary chuckle at the further misunderstanding. “No, no there’s no secrets. Wooyoung is my boyfriend,” he says, and Mrs Yoon’s confusion comes back tenfold. “But it’s different with her. We’re… We are friends. Really close friends. She’s very important to me.”

Something softens in Mrs Yoon’s face at San’s simple earnestness. She scratches her chin as she mulls it over, but eventually comes to a decision with a firm nod. “Hmm, well. Nothing wrong with that either, I suppose. Just as long as you three treat each other right.”

The safe politeness in San’s smile melts away, making way for honest happiness. “We do, Mrs. Yoon. Always.”

Grinning, she reaches up to suddenly pinch his cheek. San lets out a tiny ack, more out of surprise than pain, though her grip is surprisingly strong. “Now that I know,” she winks cheekily, then releases him. “Have a nice evening together, young man. She’s very lucky to have a good friend like you.”

Ah, and there Mrs Yoon gets it wrong again. “No, I’m the lucky one here, I reckon,” San grins. She shakes her head with a little reedy laugh, like his answer is exactly what she expected from him.

With that, San parts ways with Mrs Yoon and takes the elevator to the top floor. To you and Wooyoung.

San finds his and Wooyoung’s apartment empty when he drops off his bag — though honestly, he’s stopped thinking of the two spaces as ‘yours’ and ‘theirs’. So he gives Byeol a sweet little kiss on the top of her sweet little head, then goes over next-door without too much thought. Some days San enjoys a bit of alone time, but this is not one of them.

No, San can’t wait to curl up on the couch against one or two of his favourite people, maybe order in some food today so the time can be spent just lazing around in each others’ company.

When he opens the door to your apartment (strictly legally speaking), San hears an animated conversation happening. He perks up in curiosity, heading in closer to make out the words of what seems to be a lively discussion.

He finds you and Wooyoung on the couch, scrolling through something on your phone.

“Oohh, this looks pretty! And affordable too,” you say, looking to Wooyoung for his agreement — until you spot San and give him a little wave. “Hey, welcome back! Had a good workout?”

“Yeah, real good,” San says, a fond smile crinkling his eyes. Sounds like you and Wooyoung are looking at apartment listings again; something that started out as just fun and casual, building little fantasies around the possibilities, but the search is slowly growing more intentional.

But Wooyoung makes a face at your phone screen, shaking his head. “Too small,” he says decisively. “Ah, San! San! Good, you’re here, you can settle this for us!”

“Sure, lay it on me,” San says, naively assuming it’s about one of the listings. Then again, the way you immediately roll your eyes in exasperation…

“Seriously, Woo? You’re still on that?”

Wooyoung ignores you, turning to San with grim determination. “San. Tell her that if I don’t get to fuck other people, then she doesn’t get to either! A closed relationship, that’s what we agreed on.”

“That’s what you agreed on. You and San. I never agreed to any such thing.”

San blinks in baffled confusion. What? “Wait, you want to sleep with others? You barely have the stamina to keep up with us,” he blurts out, unable to fully process the idea that you’d want to open the relationship up.

“Hey,” you pout.

“What, ‘hey’?” he chuckles. “You’re the one who blamed us for that UTI because we are, and I quote, ‘horny demons who thrive on obliterating your poor bladder’s bacterial ecosystem’. Seriously, since when are you looking for more?”

“I’m not! Woo is just making drama over nothing!” you sigh, shooting Wooyoung some heavy side-eye. “I only pointed out that because we kinda winged this whole throuple situation, that technically we never made any rules about me and any hypothetical interest I might have.” Your side-eye deepens at the last part.

“Right,” Wooyoung says, returning your side-eye in equal force. “Hypothetical. Because you totally didn’t bring that up out of nowhere after sniffing around for gossip on San and Yunho’s past… activities.”

Yunho?! Since when is he on your radar?

It throws you too; your side-eye breaks as you look at Wooyoung in surprise. “That’s what this is about? Because I asked about him?” You let out a small, endeared giggle at Wooyoung’s jealous streak. “Woo, I’m just curious about the guy, is all! I finally get to meet him in person next week, I’ve only heard him on voice chat when you guys play that Mile of Mythologies thing together.”

“League of Legends!” San and Wooyoung protest simultaneously like clock-work.

“Yeah yeah,” you grin. “So, can we stop throwing a fuss over nothing or picking on me for having a delicate bladder?”

“Hey, I’m not picking on you for that. Honestly, all things considered it’s kind of a miracle you only got a UTI once. You got a toughie in there!” Wooyoung points out, grinning as he pats your lower stomach.

“Thank you! Now let’s go back to the important things in life, shall we?” You raise up your phone back up to go look at apartment listings again. Or so San thinks, at least.

(Somewhere in the back of his head, San vaguely notes that technically, you still haven’t agreed on a damn thing about the sleeping-with-other-people thing. Not that Wooyoung’s objections were needed; you don’t seem to actually have any serious considerations about Yunho, or anyone else. Well, and even if you did…

San smiles absent-mindedly. It’s not like he has bad memories of those past ‘activities’ with Yunho. The direct opposite, in fact. The idea of teaming up on you or Wooyoung… Wait, what? Hold on, where did that thought come from?)

“You really don’t like this one, Woo?” you ask Wooyoung, tilting the screen to him, completely unaware of the newly sparked scenarios inside San’s head.

“I told you, it’s too small!”

San shakes off whatever the hell is going on with his imagination, and focuses on his curiosity about this apartment. It must be real nice if you’re so set on the place, even if Wooyoung disagrees.

“This is too small?? Damn Woo, never knew you’re that much of a size queen.”

San frowns. Size queen? Again; what?

“Hey, who can blame me? I’ve gotten used to a certain… stretch,” Wooyoung says, a bold grin spreading over his face.

A stretch??? …Okay, maybe San needs to re-examine his assumptions about what you and Wooyoung are looking at.

“God you’re nasty,” you sigh in exasperation, but there’s a laugh hidden in there too. “Fine, fine, let’s see what else they got.”

San has finally reached you, standing behind the couch to look over your shoulder at the screen. His eyes widen as the veil of confusion lifts away, a surprised flush hitting his cheeks.

No, those are not apartment listings on your screen.

Those are sex toys.

Specifically, you and Wooyoung are looking at strap-ons.

“How about this kit?” Wooyoung asks, gesturing at the next one you scrolled to. “That looks promising.”

At first, your face lights up with interest, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace when you notice the cost. “Looks good but… might be a tiny bit out of my price range.”

“Our price range,” Wooyoung counters firmly. “Think of it as an investment for the future! What do you think, Sannie?”

“Um,” is the most eloquence response San can muster at this moment.

“Look look, it even comes with a few different dildos, see! And the harness is backless too,” Wooyoung says, eyebrows wiggling as he zooms in on one of the images.

The picture shows the back-view of a model wearing the harness, held into place by a supple-looking leather waistband and two elegant black straps wrapped around the upper thighs, snugly fitted just below the model’s completely exposed ass.

“…How’s the size? Is it adjustable?” you ask, not entirely convinced yet but slowly swayed by Wooyoung’s sales pitch.

San feels a heat crawl up to his face, and tugs at the neckline of his shirt as unbidden images float up in his mind of your ass in that harness. No, San definitely needs no further swaying. Fuck, his imagination sure is working overtime today. He’ll pay the whole damn thing out of his own pocket if the money is really a concern to you.

You nose through the product specifications, your face brightening at what you find. After that, it’s not long before the kit finds itself dropped into your shopping cart.

“Three days?” Wooyoung groans when he sees the shipping date, falling back into the couch miserably. “How am I supposed to wait that long?”

“Aw, you poor thing,” you coo teasingly, patting Wooyoung’s hair. “What a trial. What a tribulation.”

San grins when Wooyoung scoffs and grabs for your hand to get a bite in on your forearm. You yelp, unsuccessfully trying to fend him off. San lets the chaos entertain him for a moment, then he gently untangles you both. “Woo, I’m sure we can find a way to make the time go by faster,” he chuckles. “Like… how about you take a few days to think about what you’d like to happen once it’s here?”

Like magic, Wooyoung’s face instantly shifts to a thoughtful expression. “Well,” he says, tapping his bottom lip, “I do have a few ideas…”

Never one to be timid about his ideas, you naturally know the deepest, most intimate and depraved depths of Wooyoung’s fantasies by the time you have him on your knees in front of you.

You don’t need to see the hunger in his eyes as he stares up at you to know badly he wants this; don’t need to hear the breathless inhale when your fingers tangle into his hair, how his tongue eagerly darts out to wet his lips when you tug him forward — pushing the tip of your strap right against those plump lips.

Because you already know that is exactly what Wooyoung wants. To take your cock down his throat and choke on it.

The weight of the black, silicone dildo hanging between your legs is unfamiliar, a little awkward even, but the harness is more comfortable than you expected.

You’d stayed a bit concerned about the fit until the discreetly packaged arrived, but after fiddling with some adjustments you could breathe easily. The leather now sits perfectly around your waist, and the black straps don’t dig painfully into your thighs like you’d feared, instead framing your ass in a way that must be extremely flattering to say the least — if the way San’s eyes keep trailing back to them is anything to go by.

However, for now San’s gaze is fixed on Wooyoung.

San sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread lazily and leaned back with his hands resting on the mattress, making no effort to touch Wooyoung even though he is within arm’s reach. Head slightly tilted, he watches intently how Wooyoung’s lips part as the silicone cock is pushed past them.

Wooyoung wastes no time, sinking down with a muffled groan. Messily he sucks and laps at the strap, low moans and wet noises drifting upward. You let out a blissful sigh at the view, his pretty lips stretched around your cock. He blinks up at you as he somehow manages to grin even with his mouth stuffed, his dark eyes shiny with impatience and need.

“Little more, Woo. I know you can give me more,” you hum, running your hand through his hair. “Show me how hungry you are for my cock before I fuck you with it.”

“Mmh—”

Wooyoung eagerly follows your lead when you guide his head up and down, taking you deeper and deeper with minimal encouragement. He never holds back, treating your strap like it’s a real cock; and through his pure unbridled enthusiasm, you sink away into the illusion.

Your breaths grow heavier whenever Wooyoung pulls back to suckle indulgently at the tip, thick wet swipes of his tongue as he groans, his eyes fluttering shut every time you pull his hair to force your length down his throat again. Every pass of his mouth rubs the silicone dick’s rounded base against your cunt, and its strategically placed protrusion sends sparks through your core.

You start to roll your hips into him, chasing those sparks as Wooyoung’s head bobs to meet your shallow thrusts. It’s not long before he gags around you with an obscene gurgle, a thin trail of drool escaping past the corner of his lips. Instinctively you freeze, but Wooyoung shakes his head and whines. His cheeks are flushed, a watery gleam brimming in his eyes as he stares up at you, wordlessly begging you to keep fucking his throat.

“Aw, he’s tearing up already,” San chuckles, leaning forward so he can grasp Wooyoung’s chin. “Looks so pretty with cock between his lips, doesn’t he? That smart mouth stuffed full, working so hard to please you.”

Wooyoung lets out another whine at San’s praise, only more worked up by the edge of condescension in his voice.

“Sweet babygirl,” you grin fondly. “Come, make Sannie feel good too. Can you do that for me?”

Wooyoung makes a noise, immediately reaching for San, who guides Wooyoung’s hand to wrap around his cock. He groans lowly, his back arching ever so slightly at Wooyoung’s practised strokes.

“Good boy,” San sighs, a lazy smile on his lips. “Now, get back to sucking that cock properly, hm? Wanna see you choke on it.”

Wooyoung moans loudly, more drool spilling down his chin. He keens when you pull his hair a little harder; it’s all the reminder he needs to go back to gagging around your cock, meeting the roll of your hips as you fuck his face. He breaths harshly through his nose, struggling to control his breathing but never slowing down, taking your strap down his throat like a champ without ever neglecting San.

San’s chest is starting to heave as Wooyoung jerks him off, lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded. His low whine sears through you, as does the sight of his large hand leading Wooyoung’s to pump his leaking cock. Wooyoung revels in how he’s being used, teary eyes drifting shut as he fades away into a cockdrunk haze.

“San?” you say in a strained voice, more affected by the strap’s base gentle rubbing against your clit than you expected. (Or maybe the growing pressure in your core has more to do with Wooyoung, with seeing him like this.) “I think it’s time.”

Wooyoung’s eyes peek open at the sound of your voice, shimmering wetly with unshed tears. (…Yep, that definitely helps.)

“Yeah, it’s time,” San agrees, his voice equally strained.

He guides Wooyoung’s hand down to the base of his cock, to give it a squeeze just to take the edge off. Then he moves to kneel behind Wooyoung, who almost sobs in anticipation when San grabs two handfuls of his plump ass, spreading the cheeks apart.

Wooyoung whimpers around your cock, his hands grasping at your thighs for something to anchor him while San removes a modestly-sized plug that was warming Wooyoung up for this moment. You pat his hair reassuringly, cooing soft praises at Wooyoung, who groans as San’s lubed up fingers breach his rim to loosen him up a little further. San presses a soft, lingering kiss on Wooyoung’s shoulder and moves his fingers just as gently, gradually picking up speed.

You know San is not avoiding Wooyoung’s prostate when he jerks violently, the strap slipping out of his mouth, no longer muffling his loud whines. “F-fuck, right there, r-right there, Sannie…” he moans weakly, rocking back into San’s fingers.

Clumsily, Wooyoung grabs at the strap to try and stuff it back into his mouth. The tip catches against his cheek first, smearing a thick streak of saliva across his face. You sigh contently when Wooyoung keeps his hand around the silicone cock, rubbing the pleasing protrusion at the base firmly against your cunt as he wraps his swollen lips around its length.

“Still kinda tight… Relax, babe,” San grunts, curling his fingers in a way that has Wooyoung let out a throttled mewl. He runs his free hand soothingly over Wooyoung’s back. “Ahh, no wonder you’re tense,” he purrs. “Gonna be your first time getting fucked by two cocks like this, isn’t it? You’re such a greedy, perfect cockslut that it’s easy to forget you never took more than one at once. Just doesn’t seem right… those pretty holes were made to be used and ruined by some good dick.”

Tears escape Wooyoung’s lashes as he gurgles around your strap, his motions getting shakier with every filthy word from San, trembling harder with every thrust of San’s fingers. His own cock looks achingly hard, flushed a deep red and twitching, precum beading at the tip.

“Careful, Woo,” you gently chide him. “You’re not allowed to cum until I’m fucking you properly.”

Wooyoung whimpers, trimmed nails digging into your thigh as he desperately holds back from reaching down to bring himself relief.

A dangerous grin flashes across San’s lips as he also realises just how close Wooyoung is. “Oh? The cockslut can’t even wait until he’s stuffed full the way he should be? Are you gonna fall apart on just my fingers?”

“Mhh hm—”

Wooyoung can’t get his muffled noises of denial past his obstructed throat. He tries his best to obey your instruction, but San does nothing to make it easier on him.

Instead San’s wrist snaps harshly, the squelch of lube obscenely loud. His eyes are sharp and filled with dark intent, watching how Wooyoung shudders and whines, pushed closer and closer to his limit—

You can see the exact moment Wooyoung realises his efforts to hold back are futile, his eyes going wide a split second before he convulses, inadvertently pushing the strap down the back of his throat again. San’s free hand is on Wooyoung’s cock in a heartbeat, making sure he spills messy splatters of cum on San’s fingers and his own chest.

Wooyoung pants for air, spluttering and coughing when you pull the strap from his mouth. “S-sorry, I didn’t— didn’t mean to—” He babbles a rushed apology, staring up at you with wet eyes, his face red and puffy.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you hush him, going down on your knees so you can cradle his face, brushing your thumbs over tear-streaked cheeks. “Tried so hard, didn’t you?”

“Hm-hm,” he whines in agreement.

“Our pretty babygirl just gets overwhelmed so fast, doesn’t he?” you hum, pressing small pecks on his cock-swollen lips. “So sensitive that a few fingers is all it takes.”

Wooyoung sniffs, nodding weakly. “Y-yeah.”

“Look at that, made a mess all over yourself,” you tease, catching some of the white essence dribbling down Wooyoung’s chest. “Not your fault it’s so easy to wreck you. That’s just who you are, isn’t it? A needy, desperate thing.”

He whines an unintelligible noise. For anyone else, your words might have been humiliating; but for Wooyoung, they set something inside him free. Not his fault; just his nature.

San slowly kisses up Wooyoung’s neck, rubbing his shaky arms. It’d almost be sweet, if not for the satisfied curve of San’s lips. He’s gotten Wooyoung exactly where he wants him. “It’s okay, Woo,” he says, playfully nipping at his earlobe. “You can make it up later.”

Wooyoung’s attempt at answering is smothered by San’s mouth with a sudden, hard kiss. Your breath catches at his intensity, fervid and hungry. Just the sight of San and Wooyoung entangled alone is always enough to make your toes curl; from their shared, sensual passion, to the simple beauty of their contrasted features, the striking delicacy of Wooyoung melting into San’s masculine solidness.

You could watch them forever like this, but San does not allow you to be their spectator for long. Without even breaking the kiss, he reaches out to tug at your arm, pulling you into them. You go willingly.

Wooyoung welcomes you with a soft whine as you nip and suck at his neck, the split-glistened strap pressing against his half-hard cock. He proves himself every bit the desperate, needy thing that you called him, turning his head to switch between kissing you and San, groaning against your lips as he’s engulfed with heated attention from two ends. Breathlessly he gasps between kisses, trembling while you and San slowly leave a tapestry of hickeys and bitemarks over his neck and shoulders.

It’s when he starts to rock his hips, grinding back against San, that you reach for his dick. It’s still partially soft, still sensitive from cumming earlier. Wooyoung jerks into your grasp, his loud, keening whine stifled by San’s tongue down his throat. Fresh tears spill down Wooyoung’s cheeks as he shakes his head, his hand weakly clinging onto your arm — but his body tells a different story entirely, his spine arching as he contorts with overwhelming pleasure.

You are captivated, your tongue dragging over his wet cheek as you chase an instinct to lick up his tears. “Yeah, you can take it,” you murmur by his ear, making sure to keep a steady pace with your hand. “Want you hard and leaking when I finally fuck you. You owe us that much, don’t you think? Or is our babygirl going to disappoint me again?”

Wooyoung whimpers, head falling back against San’s shoulders. “C-can take it,” he slurs, now openly rocking his hips to fuck up into your hand.

San’s eyes blaze as he watches you exert your control over Wooyoung. Once your hand has settled into a rhythm, San firmly pulls you close again, capturing you in a hard kiss this time. Heatedly he explores the familiar crevices of your mouth while Wooyoung squirms and mewls between you, jaw slackening and eyes rolling back.

Your cunt aches at Wooyoung’s noisy writhing, and you press a gentle hand against San’s shoulder to push him back.

He begrudgingly parts from your lips, breathing hard. Focus slowly returns to his eyes as he grins down at Wooyoung’s wrecked state. “He’s ready?”

“I think so,” you hum, gently cradling Wooyoung’s cheeks. “What do you say, Wooyoungie, ready to take my cock?”

Wooyoung nuzzles at your palm, the rise and fall of his chest slowly steadying. “Ready,” he sighs with a languid smile, tinged with anticipatory excitement. “Want it… want your cock so bad, want you to fuck me…”

You giggle, bumping your forehead against his. “Good boy,” you praise, and leave a light peck on his nose. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Almost effortlessly, San lifts a squirmy Wooyoung on his feet, then onto the bed, manoeuvring him onto all fours.

Wooyoung moans when you run a hand over the sweet curve of his ass, peeking over his shoulder to look at you. You knead at his cheeks, staring intently at how lube has has trickled out his stretched hole, down to his thighs. It’s all too tempting to dive in and lap it up, to tease him with your tongue and sink your teeth into that pretty ass, but you doubt Wooyoung has much patience left in him — and neither do you, for that matter.

“San?” you ask, nudging at the container of lube to reapply a fresh layer. San grabs the bottle; but instead of handing it over to you, he just grins and slides up behind you.

Generously he slicks up his own hand, and your breath hitches as San reaches around to lube up the strap for you. There is something unexpectedly sensual about his big hand gliding over the length of your silicone cock, firm strokes that have you instinctively rocking into his touch, like you can feel him.

Wooyoung lets out an impatient whine. “Please…” he begs, wiggling his ass at you, and you decide he’s been forced to wait long enough.

You softly tap San’s arm, at which he retreats to rest his sticky hand on your waist instead. He hums when you press a soft kiss of gratitude on his lips, and then you turn your full attention back to Wooyoung.

He shudders when the silicone cockhead presses at his entrance, then slowly sinks in.

It’s not the biggest dildo that came with the kit, not quite matching San in thickness, but you preferred to start out with a size that you know Wooyoung can handle. Still, it’s girth is satisfying enough with a nice upward curve, and a subtly ribbed shaft that’s already doing a number on Wooyoung, if the way his fingers dig into the sheets is any indication.

“Oh fuck,” he grits out, eyes clenched shut.

You take your time to bottom out, making sure you can do so comfortably, and Wooyoung comes apart further with every slow inch. His arms buckle, falling onto his elbows when your thighs press against his ass, fully buried inside his tight hole. He pants hard, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Please please please,” he babbles, “oh fuck please move, please fuck me already, fuck—”

“Hm, I think he likes taking your cock,” San observes dryly, a mocking lilt in his voice. He reaches around you to give Wooyoung’s ass a light smack, grinning when Wooyoung whines harder in response. “Yeah, he likes it.”

You don’t react with more than a sound of acknowledgement; too focused on the roll of your hips, too taken in by Wooyoung’s choked noises as you finally take mercy, the ribbed strap gliding in and out at a steady pace.

In a way, the rhythmic motion of thrusting into Wooyoung is intimately familiar, yet also entirely new. You’ve fucked Wooyoung with a toy before, sure, but the simple snap of your hand doesn’t compare to the physicality of using almost your entire body to bury your cock into him. Your arms tense as you hold onto his hips to keep him steady, your thighs and core muscles flex to buck against his ass over and over again.

(Already you can tell that you need to conserve your energy, not wanting to wear yourself out before Wooyoung is a sobbing ruin, utterly wrecked and completely sated.)

Wooyoung gasps and whines with every thrust, his fists tightening into the sheets — but despite his obvious pleasure, a tendril of frustration flicks at you; you’ve seen Wooyoung in the throes of depraved passion often enough to know you’re not hitting the spot that will obliterate him, not in the way San can. You try to adjust, searching for his prostate, but it’s trickier when you can’t actually feel inside him, and your efforts only seem to make your thrusts more awkward.

San puts his hand on your waist when he realises you are getting in your own way, squeezing reassuringly. His breath falls on your ear as he guides your motions, easing your hips into a smooth roll that soon has Wooyoung let out a pitched cry, his entire body jolting.

“That’s it,” San rasps in satisfaction, letting you move on your own again, “that’s how you fuck that tight hole. Look at you making such a pretty mess of Wooyoungie, all cockdrunk on you.”

Wooyoung keens at the praise, whimpering every time you hit that sweet spot.

You can’t help a moan of your own, a hot wire thrumming through your core — that only grows sharper when San’s hands wander down to your ass. At first he just lightly squeezes, but soon he takes full advantage of the harness’ open back, spreading your cheeks apart to expose you to the cool air. His thumbs inch inward; one is still covered with a remnant of lube, slowly circling your sensitive rim.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected touch, making you buck harder into Wooyoung. His voice breaks with every snap of your hips, “Hngh, ah ah—” hiccuped moans spilling past his lips.

San grins, his thumb resting against your entrance, never quite pressing inside. “Fucking him so well, baby,” he groans, lazily sucking a wet patch into your neck. “Tell her, Wooyoung. Tell her how well she’s fucking you.”

“S-so well,” Wooyoung sobs, clawing at the sheets. “Fucking me so well…”

His garbled cries burn through you, the heat inside your core stoked by his writhing, desperate state. So pliant, so willing to surrender himself to you.

However, your thighs burn for another reason entirely; muscles straining with the effort of fucking Wooyoung into this mindless stupor. You slow the roll of your hips, giving yourself a breather while enjoying Wooyoung’s pitiful whines of protest maybe a little too much.

“But this is not enough for you, is it?” you hum, rubbing your hand over the small of Wooyoung’s sweat-slicked back. “You want Sannie’s cock too, to have that clever mouth used again like it should be.”

San lets out a raspy chuckle as Wooyoung nods frantically. “I don’t know, baby, our Wooyoungie looks like he might be at his limit. You sure he can take us both?”

Wooyoung squirms in frustration. “I can, Sannie, you know I can,” he snivels. “Please, want it, want it, San-ah—!”

He jolts when San smacks his ass again, whining loudly as he burrows his face into the bed.

With that, San moves away from you, his fingers digging into the curve of your rear as he goes. Wooyoung moans weakly when San sits on his knees in front of him, clasping Wooyoung’s chin between thumb and index finger to lift his head.

“Then prove it,” San says coolly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Show us what a good cockslut you are.”

Wooyoung shivers at the dismissive tone of San’s challenge, like he isn’t expecting all that much. He shakily pushes himself up on his hands, biting down a groan at how your strap rubs up against his insides. One last glance over his shoulder, while he still can, drinking in the sight of you with hungry, tear-filled eyes.

And a glorious sight you are, shiny drops of sweat beading down the valley of your chest, heaving from exertion. Both of you completely enraptured by this new experience, the new sensations that come with it. The ribbed dildo feels amazing, better than Wooyoung dared hope — but far more than that, he is on the brink because it’s you, you fucking that toy into him.

You catch his gaze, biting your lip at the contact. “Remember, Woo,” you say, voice tight, “remember the signal if I’m too rough on you.”

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse chuckle, giving you the widest, dirtiest grin he can muster. Too rough? On him? Fuck, how are you blowing his back out and still manage to be this adorable? “Sure, will do,” he rasps, tapping San’s thigh in demonstration of the nonverbal sign.

San grasps onto Wooyoung’s chin again, yanking him back. He taps the head of his cock against Wooyoung’s cheek, leaving a trail of precum, exactly where your strap smeared saliva across his face earlier.

“C’mon, Woo,” San says, still giving him that unimpressed look, the one that makes Wooyoung squirm without fail, “do you want this cock down your throat or not?”

Wooyoung’s breath instantly shallows, his jaw relaxing on instinct. He groans in bliss as San nudges the flushed tip past his swollen lips, sinking home. Your hips move in a slow roll and Wooyoung lets himself get swept away by the rhythm, taking San deeper inch by inch.

His mind goes blank, lost in the toe-curling slide of your strap, the hefty weight of San on his tongue — fuck, he loves sucking that fat cock. How the thickness of it strains his jaw, but within manageable levels after all the countless practise he’s enjoyed. He’s proud of that, how his gag reflex has faded to a mere afterthought, only brought back to the forefront when he’s caught off guard (and even then, it’s good). Proud of the cracks in San’s unaffected facade that Wooyoung breaks through with nothing but the tightness of his throat and his skilful tongue.

Right now though, you’re making it harder for Wooyoung to use that tongue to its full potential. Every rough thrust jostles him, pushes San’s dick deeper without any room for skill, reducing Wooyoung to nothing but a cocksleeve to be used. (San does not seem to mind, his groans low and breathy.)

He whimpers as you slam into him without mercy, his aching cock slapping against his stomach with a lewd smacking sound, drawing sharp jolts of pleasure. You’ve well and truly honed in on his sweet spot now, pressure building up and up and up until Wooyoung feels like he’s clawing at the ceiling. San’s hand rests on Wooyoung’s throat, squeezing with only a gentle pressure to keep him steady as he’s split open from two ends; an overwhelming barrage of sensations that goes beyond feeling ‘full’. Wooyoung feels whole.

Desperately he moans around San’s cock with a muffled, pathetic sob, the world blurring out of focus. One brush of a hand against his throbbing dick and he’d be done for, he’s sure of it; but despite cumming untouched earlier, now that edge stays just out of reach. Trapping Wooyoung at the height of pleasure with nowhere to come down.

He’s whimpering, body trembling under the unending onslaught. Too much, some might cry out — but not Wooyoung, never Wooyoung.

No, for him it is perfect. He stopped believing in ‘too much’ long ago, after he heard enough of those two words in his life. That he talks too much, wants too much, gives too much, is too much.

But here, between these two hearts, he is exactly right.

Addled memories flood through his dizzied thoughts, physical pleasure blurring into intense emotion.

With San, Wooyoung knew it from the very start; an unshakeable certainty within moments of their first meeting. San has always embraced his chaotic energy, soaking it up like a sponge and giving back to Wooyoung in equal measure. Making it easy for Wooyoung to throw himself into their relationship with what some might call reckless abandon — but San never dropped him. He is never too much for San.

Wooyoung had been too much for you, once. Crashing head-first into your boundaries back when he kissed you; pushing too hard because he did not want to be pushed away. But it only brought you closer, seeking out the places where you can meet each other; where Wooyoung can be himself without compromise without compromising you. Where Wooyoung can taste the word ‘love’ in his mouth and see you light up with joy, the same joy that you and San give him in turn.

No, he’ll never be too much for you either. He knows that now.

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse, garbled cry at a hard hit of your cock against his prostate, breaking him out of his hazy thoughts and right back to the present, back in the middle of your and San’s heated attention and affection. Right where Wooyoung thrives.

Fuck, he’s light-headed. He feels like he’s floating, vaguely hears praise drift to him from both sides. Good boy. Taking it so well. That’s what those pretty holes are good for. He’s drowning in it, barely feeling his body anymore, only the pleasure buzzing through him.

He slowly realises San’s fingers are tangled through his hair, helping his head stay up.

Wooyoung moans indulgently, blinking up at him. He can only imagine what a mess San is looking at; Wooyoung can feel the wetness of spittle and tears trailing down his cheeks, his chin, even his throat. Fuck, he wishes you could see it too, what a fucking pathetic wreck he is for you both.

San makes a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a groan as he looks down on Wooyoung. “Cockdrunk,” he says, his grin sharp. “Completely wasted. Can you even handle my load or are you too fucked out to swallow?”

Immediately Wooyoung whines in protest. He can do it, he can do anything for you and San. Doesn’t want San to pull out, doesn’t want you to stop moving, not yet not now not ever. He swallows around San’s cockhead, messily lavishing his tongue against the twitching shaft.

You giggle breathily at Wooyoung’s enthusiasm, squeezing at his hip. “Now San, don’t underestimate our Wooyoungie,” you playfully admonish him. “This is what he’s made for. He can take it.”

Yes yes yes. Agreement sings through Wooyoung as he humps back against you in gratitude. You get it. You understand.

San grunts at the stifled moans around his cock, Wooyoung’s increased efforts causing him to hiss sharply through gritted teeth. He can’t last much longer, his fingers tightening in Wooyoung’s hair, breath going pitchy as his hips jerk.

Wooyoung groans when San’s cock twitches in his mouth, hot sticky ropes of cum hitting his tongue. Maybe he is a little too fucked out after all, some seed trickling down his chin as he struggles to gulp down every drop with lewd, wet noises.

San pants harshly as he slips out, pumping himself with quick strokes to wrest as much as he can for Wooyoung to take. Finally he wipes the tip on Wooyoung's glossy lips, then nudges him to turn his head and give you a proper view. Your sharp moan lances through Wooyoung's painfully hard cock — but distress takes over when you slow down.

So close, he was so close oh god you can’t stop now. Wooyoung sobs pitifully, wiggling his hips as he babbles his wretched pleas.

Your cunt throbs at his desperation, his face flushed red and shiny with bodily fluids. Equal parts guilt and arousal sear through you at the unintentional denial, but fuck your thighs are burning. (Today has given you a whole new appreciation for San's muscle strength.)

“Shh, it’s okay, just want you to ride me,” you hum, stroking his quivering thigh. “Wanna see that beautiful face when you cum, can you do that for me, Wooyoungie?”

He lets out another choked up sob but nods frantically, whimpering when you pull out to lay down. Shakily he moves to sit in your lap, helped by San’s steady hold. Wooyoung whines in relief when you fill him up again, after a fresh coating of lube. He groans at the new angle, throwing his head back.

You rub your hands up and down his thighs, letting your eyes wander over him; his sweat-slicked torso, the veins pulsing in his shaky arms, cock leaking against his stomach. You lightly wrap your fingers around it, causing Wooyoung to stutter out a surprised “Ah—!”

“Go ahead, Woo. Show me,” you tell him breathily, bucking your hips up. “Show me how badly you want to cum on my cock.”

Wooyoung does not need to be told twice. He leans back to brace his hands on your legs, arching his back. The roll of his hips starts slow, easing himself into it, but soon you can see his lithe muscles rippling as he bounces in your lap. There is no restraint in him, his face contorted with pleasure as he whines, gasping every time you buck your hips to meet his. He looks utterly deprived. He is perfect.

San curls up next to you on his side, sluggish in the wake of his own orgasm. He pecks at your shoulder, tracing lazy circles on your stomach, close to where Wooyoung fucks into your hand as he moves. “You haven’t cum yet, have you?” San murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“N-not yet,” you admit, “but—”

But fuck, you are getting close.

It’s been a long, slow build-up with the base of the strap rubbing against your cunt; not always catching your clit just right, but you have a bit more control now that you’re laying down, to wiggle or guide Wooyoung’s hips. More than that, you are so deeply mesmerised by Wooyoung that his pleasure might as well be your own. Fucking himself seemingly tireless even though he’s gasping for breath, surely reaching his limit. His whiny sobs sear through you, your own breath catching in your throat as you slowly, inevitably, begin to tilt over.

San lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, and slings an arm over you to leisurely play with one of your tits. The light pecks on your shoulder turn to insistent, open-mouthed kisses as San sucks wet bruises into your skin. You bite down a whine as he thumbs at your nipple, your hips bucking up harder into Wooyoung. You move your hand quicker, stubborn to drag Wooyoung right down with you.

“God, look at you,” you groan, straining to get the words out, “look so pretty, crying on my cock.”

Wooyoung makes a strangled noise. “’Cause— ‘cause it feels so good,” he chokes out. “Y-you—” but whatever else he wants to say is drowned out by breathless, high-pitched moans.

You use your last shreds of energy to piston the strap harder into Wooyoung, jostling him in your lap. His body bows forward, hands scrambling to grab onto your shoulders, almost knocking San in the face. San nips at Wooyoung’s wrist, but easily readjusts by latching his mouth onto your breast instead.

You tense up, hips stuttering as you curse under your breath — and then San’s teeth sink into the soft, sensitive flesh, biting down. The pain jolts through you like a catalyst, your peak rushing at you; you try to stave it off, try to get Wooyoung there first, but that only makes it chase you faster. The force of it rips through your nerve endings, your nails digging into Wooyoung’s waist as you finally topple over with a ragged cry. Your toes curl almost painfully, body trembling as white-hot sparks fray your senses.

Your eyes try to squeeze shut but you force them open, gasping breathless moans as you stare up at Wooyoung; intent on seeing him succumb before you can fully come down from your own high.

His abdominal muscles flex with tension, his thighs clenching as he threatens to lose his rhythm. You shakily pick up the pace with your hand, sliding over the slick length of his cock. Wooyoung keens and weakly ruts against your strap, keeping constant pressure on your still-twitching cunt. San’s fingers wrap around yours, helping you to keep moving while you squirm from the relentless waves rippling through you.

Wooyoung lets out a throttled whine, doubling over as he unravels, spilling a hot and sticky mess all over your fingers and stomach. Your grip on him weakens, but San forces you to keep moving, milking Wooyoung for everything he’s got until he’s shaking uncontrollably on top of you, sobbing out pathetic whimpers.

When San finally takes mercy and lets go, Wooyoung crumples on top of you with a tired moan. The dildo slips out as he burrows himself in your arms, uncaring for the watery strings of cum smeared between your bodies.

“Oh fuck… that was… ‘s was fucking amazing…” he mumbles, nuzzling against your chest.

You giggle tiredly, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yes? Did we make a good investment into our future with this one?”

“Mhn…” Wooyoung makes a vague noise of affirmation. He seems about ready to pass out, but there’s still a dazed smile on his face when San tips up his chin. “Good, yeah…”

San’s lips curl into a fond smile, chuckling when Wooyoung grouses at being manoeuvred just enough so San can take the harness off of you. He sets the glistening dildo aside for later cleaning, then gives your worn-out cunt an affectionate pat. You whine even at the light touch, but sigh contently when his warm hands massage your sore thighs. Fuck, you’re going to have one hell of a muscle-ache tomorrow.

San grins at your pained expression. “Wanted to see Wooyoung ride you, hm?” he teases. “No other reason for changing that up, I’m sure.”

“What are you insinuating, Choi San?” you grumble, half-heartedly rolling your eyes.

He laughs, continuing to work your aching muscles. “Nothing, nothing! Just… are you sure you don’t want to join me at the gym sometime?”

You make a face at him, at the same time that Wooyoung pipes up, “Nu-uh. If you need an extra workout, you can just fuck me some more.”

“…That does sound like a lot more fun than a gym membership,” you accede. “Sorry, San.”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t argue with that. C’mon, let’s get that mess cleaned up,” he says, nudging Wooyoung to roll off of from you with a groan.

You take the wet-wipes that San offer you, and clean the dried crusts of cum on Wooyoung’s stomach. His eyes are half-lidded and he hums weakly when you stroke his cheek; you suspect he’ll doze off for real soon.

“Hm, would be nice if we could find a place that has a bathtube,” you sigh wistfully as you start to clean yourself, yearning for the comfort of a warm soak right now. “Though I guess it’d be hard to find one that fits all three of us.”

“I like that,” San smiles while he tugs a blanket over Wooyoung to make sure he doesn’t get cold. “We’ll make it work somehow. We always do.”

“Stacked on top of each other?” you suggest playfully.

San pouts. “I’d feel bad for whoever is at the bottom,” he says, utterly earnest — and you’d tease him for it, if your heart didn’t burst with affection at his simple, straightforward consideration.

Wooyoung, however, has no such hangups. “Then it has to be you, I guess,” he mumbles with a tired grin.

San’s pout intensifies into a sulk, but his face instantly softens when Wooyoung tugs at his and your wrists, wanting you closer. Soon Wooyoung is snuggled up in the middle, embraced from both sides. He groans happily at the gentle kisses San presses against his neck, the featherlight brush of your fingertips over his cheek, your arm slung lazily around him.

You catch San’s eyes while Wooyoung dozes off, warmth glowing in your chest at his dimpled smile. He reaches over Wooyoung to rest his hand on your waist, always in need of those little physical threads of connection. You shift your leg to weave another thread, hooking your ankle around his shin. The three of you fitting together perfectly.

“Come on, go talk to him then,” Wooyoung sighs at you in exasperation, one hand on his hip, the other holding a spatula as he waves you off. “You’ve been nosy about him for ages, now you got your chance and you’re in here distracting me instead? No ma’am, get your fine ass out there.”

“But—”

Wooyoung gives you no time for excuses, grabbing your shoulders from behind and forcibly ushering you out of the kitchen, to the living area. To San, and to the guy San’s talking to.

The ever-illusive, long awaited friend, finally back in town.

Jeong Yunho.

Honestly, you don’t even know why you’re nervous about this. It’s not like Yunho is the first close friend of San and Wooyoung that you’ve met; you’ve even talked to him before! Just over voice chat, saying ‘hi’ when San or Wooyoung are gaming with him, but still!

Wooyoung’s photographs have even prepared you for his ridiculously handsome face (seriously, why are all of their friends like this?!), but you’re still caught off guard by his physical presence. It’s not just his height, though that’s definitely a factor. Just something about the way he stands in the room, his posture relaxed with an easy confidence. Really, Yunho shouldn’t be intimidating; he oozes kindness and reliability, the type of guy who personally makes sure you get home safe after having one drink too many at the bar.

Maybe it’s the glances he’s been casting your way. Something in his thoughtful expression makes you feel like he’s carefully taking your measure. Seizing up if you’re right for his friends.

…Or maybe it’s not that deep, and you simply are anxious about making a good impression. After all, this is the guy who helped San to work through his insecurities, and even introduced him to Wooyoung. Without him, you’d never have ended up in this cosy arrangement with them.

While you cautiously go up to him and San, Wooyoung calls out from the kitchenette.

“Oi, Sannie, can you help me out with something!”

Oh, that bastard.

You look over your shoulder to fire a glare at Wooyoung, but he just grins back at you. You roll your eyes, sigh out those nerves, and go over to Yunho. San gives you a wink as he walks past, and also gives your ass a light smack. Yeah. Figures.

Yunho’s big brown eyes shine with curiosity as you approach him.

“So. You’re San and Wooyoung’s… friend, right?” he says, with the slightly hesitant tone of someone who knows he’s dealing with a square hole but only has round pegs to try and fit in there. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Yeah, same,” you smile back at him, internally cursing Wooyoung into the special circle of hell reserved for backstabbing traitors. “And ‘friend’ is not inaccurate, no,” you allow, trying for a shy grin. “We’re still workshopping it out! The latest idea was that I call the guys my ‘umbrellas’, but… yeah. Maybe a little more time in the workshop for that one.”

“Umbrellas?” Yunho blinks in confusion, but it only takes a split second before understanding breaks out on his face. “Ahh, got it — ‘Woosan’.” He giggles, hiding his mouth behind his hand. You can’t lie; it’s pretty dang cute. “San came up with that one, didn’t he?”

“He did!” you giggle with Yunho, the shared laugh helping you to relax. “Was real proud of it too!”

With the discovery of a common ground between you (a penchant for lovingly poking fun at San and Wooyoung), you loosen up and fall into light conversation. His laugh is easy and his jokes are playful, and it’s soon obvious to you why the guys are so attached to him.

Apparently Yunho is coming to a similar conclusion about you, eyeing you with a thoughtful expression.

“You know, to be honest I was surprised to hear San and Wooyoung wanted to try something with a third. Really surprised,” he chuckles awkwardly, scratching his cheek. “San was pretty clear he wanted a closed relationship. But… yeah. I can see it. Makes sense.”

He nods, and something has softened in his eyes while he talked. Suddenly you have the distinct impression that you weren’t wrong for feeling like Yunho was taking your measure.

A small smile curves around your lips at Yunho’s simple observation, your eyes glancing to the kitchenette where San is ‘helping’ Wooyoung by stealing food and getting in his way. “I mean, none of us really planned for me to stick around like this,” you point out, feeling oddly timid. “We didn’t plan for any of this to shake out this way. It just… did.”

Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “Yeah, that’s just how things go sometimes, isn’t it,” he says, his smile crooked. “Well, whatever you end up calling this, they seem real happy with how it’s going. If they’re your umbrellas, what’d that make you? Their parka?” he teases.

“Oh hell no!” you splutter. “Veto, veto! Don’t you dare put that idea into their heads, I’d rather make do without any labels at all, thankyouverymuch!”

“Alright, I won’t!” Yunho giggles again at your indigence, round cheeks lifted by his laugh. “Label or no label, whichever way works for you, right? And clearly this works.”

You glance at San and Wooyoung again, bubbles of warmth popping in your chest at the sight of them. San has abandoned all pretence at being helpful, his chest pressed against Wooyoung’s back and arms wrapped around his waist, trying to smooch him while Wooyoung is completely focused on the food.

San is the one who sees you watching them first, his cheeks dimpling at you in a soft smile. Wooyoung quickly notices San’s attention wandering, but his vaguely offended expression fades when he catches your eye, replaced by a cheeky grin. (Ugh fine, yes his stupid little plan worked.)

“Yeah, it works,” you say quietly to Yunho, feeling San and Wooyoung’s affection wrap around you even all the way from the other side of the room. It really does.

#igby’s writing #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #woosan smut #woosan x reader #san smut #san x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #san imagines #wooyoung imagines #san scenarios #wooyoung scenarios

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stardust-maple · 1 year ago

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Edit: look I didn't do a good job explaining what these were for the first time so I've got a second edit at the bottom of the page that explains things better.

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I made my own pain and fatigue scale charts. Because I'm so adept at overcoming my symptoms the normal pain scale doesn't really work for me. I adjusted my numbers so that I could change the number into something I could tell a doctor when they inevitably ask me to rate my pain.

[Image Description: Pain Scale Chart with rainbow gradient background for each row, starting at red and ending at blue.

Row 1: Mine Drs Pain Scale Description

Row 2: 10 X I am not leaving my bedroom or bathroom, someone needs to bring me food and I need something to dull the pain or the pain will cause tears.

Row 3: 9 X I am not leaving my bedroom and bathroom for anything other than food.

Row 4: 8 10 Speaking is difficult. It is no longer practical to do activities outside of the bathroom or bedroom, but they can be done with assistance.

Row 5: 7 9 Necessary care activities are sacrificed. Academic activities and social activities can no longer be tolerated.

Row 6: 6 8 My pain is tiring. Paying attention is difficult. All activities require pacing and extra effort.

Row 7: 5 7 My pain is so distracting it is making me tired. It is hard to think. Necessary care activities are no longer all doable.

Row 8: 4 6 My pain is so distracting it is making me tired. It is harder to think. Necessary care activities are starting to be limited.

Row 9: 3 5 I can continue to do most activities

Row 10: 2 4 My pain bothers me but I can ignore it most of the time

Row 11: 1 3 My pain bothers me, but I can ignore it most of the time.

Row 12: 0 2 I am aware of my pain only when I pay attention to it

Row 13: X 1 My pain is hardly noticeable

Row 14: X 0 I have no pain. END Image Description]

[Image Description:

Fatigue Scale Chart with rainbow gradient background for each row, starting at red and ending at blue.

Row 1: Mine Drs Fatigue Scale Description

Row 2: 10 X Can barely sit up, needs assistance to get out of bed. Holding conversations is impossible. Laying down for most of the day is necessary. It is difficult to eat. Focusing is strenuous.

Row 3: 9 X Able to walk and stand for short distances. Holding conversations is difficult. Laying down for most of the day is necessary. It is difficult to eat. Focusing is strenuous.

Row 4: 8 10 Able to walk and stand for short distances. Holding conversations is difficult. Sitting for long Periods of time is difficult. It is difficult to eat. Focusing is strenuous. Preparing a meal isn’t possible.

Row 5: 7 9 Holding conversations is difficult. Sitting or standing for long Periods of time is difficult. It is difficult to eat. Focusing is strenuous.

Row 6: 6 8 Sitting or standing for long Periods of time is difficult. It is difficult to eat. Focusing is difficult. Preparing a meal is difficult.

Row 7: 5 7 Standing or walking for long periods is difficult. It is difficult to eat. Focusing is difficult.

Row 8: 4 6 Standing or walking for long periods is difficult. Focusing is difficult.

Row 9: 3 5 Cooking for longer than 15 minutes is extremely challenging.

Row 10: 2 4 Not everything can be done in the day. Activities are slowed down. Difficult mental challenges are sacrificed.

Row 11: 1 3 Tiredness makes it difficult to enjoy fun activities.

Row 12: 0 2 Things take more effort than usual, but everything is still doable.

Row 13: X 1 Slightly tired but still able to carry on as normal

Row 14: X 0 Not tired at all

END Image Description.]

Feel free to use them yourself if you like them!

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Edit p2:

So these charts I made them for showing people and using them to talk about my pain. The numbers are just sort of a reference point . The words are what's important. The fact that it is a relationship is what's significant.

I've got chronic pain and chronic fatigue. I'm never not in pain and I'm never not tired. These are based on the main pain and fatigue scales that I usually get shown at places that aren't specialized in treating pain or fatigue.

I use these when talking to my family, using the number that relates to the mine side. I use these with my non pain doctors who don't treat my pain or fatigue. I use the Drs number when talking to Drs. Anything that in those X spots is also 10. Drs don't like pain larger than 10 because they think you're faking it.

I made these after getting covid. It was about a year later and I still couldn't describe my pain in terms of the standard scale because I couldn't conceptualize pain properly because covid had completely broken my internal perception of pain intensity. Because I went from never having gone to 10/10 or ever being there for very long to about 2 weeks of what I could only describe as 13/10 pain. It was logarithmically higher than anything I my brain could process. And my brain didn't process it. I just sort of cried a lot, slowly.

If you are ever using a personalized pain scale or something you found online with a doctor you should show them what you're talking about. You need to make sure they understand you.

I posted this because I was having a hard time saying that while I was at a 3 in terms of abilities, I was in just as much pain as when I had been previously at a 5. I needed something that showed what I was talking about.

It feels very strange adding all these disclaimers so far after, but I've been thinking "it's too late" every time Ive realized someone might use it in a way that wouldn't help them. And then ignoring the problem for a while.

We've got 3k notes on this. People keep looking at it. The disclaimers are nessesary. I'm sorry they weren't there before.

I just remembered that I specifically made this because I needed to be able to point at a number and have my parents be able to know what that meant. They don't have training in the pain scale. They don't know what it means. But they do know what I mean now when I say I'm at a 6. They understand me.

The point is, this says that it's used for talking to doctors and it's really not. It's for my family mostly. And my PCP who keeps asking what pain I'm at and I just need to say a number that communicates the thing she wants to know (that's why the Drs thing is on there. That's the number she needs. She doesn't care. It's weird. She's weird.)

But it is mostly for my family. It's for describing how I'm doing.

Do not use this in emergencies!!! Do not use this with pain specialists without showing it to them!!!

#chronic illness #chronic pain #chronic condition #disability #chronic fatigue #cfs/me #chronically ill #spoonie #amps #disabled #actually chronically ill #actually disabled #stardust maple #pain scale #fatigue scale #chronic fatigue scale #chronic pain scale #long post

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bratzkoo · 3 months ago

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barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

#svt #mansaenetwork #mingyu fic #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu smut #svt x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #rockstar! mingyu #rockstar! mingyu x reader

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 5 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe! (2)- Try To Stop The Feeling

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 2- 4.6k- Mature Rating

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

A/N- This chapter includes mature themes such as Drinking, Descriptions internalised homophobia and Allusions to compulsory heterosexuality.

---

Laughter filled the room as you chuckled around your cigarette, your head tilting to the side to blow the smoke towards the ceiling of Natasha's room, the redhead on the bed next to you copying your actions as she amused you. You looked at your best friend, admiring the playful and casual smirk planted on her lips as you chilled with her, watching happily as she moved her hand to the gentle beat of the music that was playing from her speaker in the corner, partly buried by clothes her sister had stolen before being forced to return them by Melina. The music that accompanied your laughter and rather loud chatter was something her father, Alexi, was not too pleased about as you heard him mutter something disapproving in Russian as he passed her bedroom door, the redhead mimicking her fathers actions only entertaining you further.

"May would smack the back of my head if she ever caught me doing that," you mutter, shaking your head playfully at Natasha mocking her father, the redhead rolling her eyes as she knew that your Aunt May would never do such a thing to you, she loved you too much. That woman was the sweetest woman she'd ever met, her warm, kind and friendly persona something you loved about your aunt, something you appreciated throughout your whole childhood.

"That woman wouldn't even hurt a fly," the Russian teases, crushing the end of her cigarette in the discarded ash tray on her bedside table before leaning over to where you were laying on her bed, stealing the end of yours as she knew how much it annoyed you, a defeated sigh leaving you as you knew there was no point in fighting her, the woman next to you always able to get what she wants.

Before you could make a snarky remark back at her, complaining how everyone seems to steal your cigarettes, the sound of a grunt and a small thud caught your attention as you both lifted your heads off the mattress to look at the window, the sight of Bucky's hair making you let out a small laugh as he climbed through her window.

"You do know doors exist, right?" you tease, deciding to use your sarcastic comment on the redhead's boyfriend as he pushes his long hair out of his eyes, revealing his icy blue eyes which were filled with just as much mirth as yours.

"As if Alexi would ever let me come in through the front door," he mutters, taking his jacket off before sitting in the chair next to the bed, his smile widening at the sight of the adoring look Natasha offered him before her attention was drawn to outside her door.

"Лучше бы там не было мальчика, Natalia! (There better not be a boy in there, Natalia)" Shouted her father over the music, the sound of a deeper voice catching the older man's attention as he walked passed once more, his fist pounding on the door.

In the room, Bucky's eyes widened, his usually casual blue morphing into worry at Alexi's words, the boy wanting to make a good first impression to his girlfriend's father, prompting him to swiftly drop to the floor by the bed, hiding as all three of you heard her door handle turn. Her father's inspecting gaze soon peeked around the door as Natasha groaned at her father's protectiveness, your smile growing at the whole interaction as you could see the end of Bucky's boot peaking just beyond the end of her bed, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to contain your laughter.

"Papa," she groaned, hiding her face with her hands as her father put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to further annoy his daughter as she could be quite scary when pissed off at him. "It's just Y/n," at her words, you wave at the man with an amused and cocky expression, his face still sceptical though.

"Нет мальчиков (No boys)" Is all he mutters before shutting the door, a sigh of relief leaving the couple whilst you can't help but let out your laughter, Natasha smacking you at how much their nervousness entertained you, your hands coming up in surrender just like her father's did, your turn to playfully mock the man.

"This is why I can't wait to go to Uni," she mutters, annoyed hints in her tone, Bucky climbing back to his feet and flopping back into the chair, his feet going on the edge of the bed after he reaches over to steal Natasha's drink, winking teasingly at her before taking a considerable sip of it.

"Have Shield gotten back yet?" You ask, tilting your head to look at her as you remember that you were supposed to ask her about the university she applied to earlier on, your memory too busy thinking of a certain brunette most of the time to function adequately. At the smile that breaks on her face, the redhead attempting to play coy but unable to as happiness carves its way onto her face tells you the answer, a proud expression taking over your face as you grin at her. "Congrats, Nat," your tone is genuine and sincere as she offers you another thrilled smile, "I'm so proud of you." You look at the woman you'd been friends with for your entire life, warmth enveloping your chest as pride filled you, seeing her accomplish her dream making your day.

"Thank you," she whispers, bumping her shoulder against yours before continuing, "Have you heard anything back yet?" She asks, knowing you were hesitant about University, not wanting to leave May all alone and abandon your home as your options for your future were limited.

"The only place that's willing to give me a scholarship is MI: 13," you say, voice growing more unsure as you tell them, Bucky's brows furrowing as he places where he had heard the name, concern growing on his face as he knew you didn't want to travel far.

"But that's in England," His tone conveying his confusion as you shrug your shoulders, not wanting to talk about the possibility of having to leave your home, the university the only one willing to take you.

"Yeah," you whisper, clearly growing uncomfortable with the mere thought of it, causing you to sit upright and check the time, wanting to switch the topic to something else. "Anyway, enough about me," you joke, Natasha knowing you were just pushing the feelings down, face growing sympathetic as you continue, going along with what you were saying to make you comfortable, "Don't we have a party to sneak off too?"

The two of them chuckle at your antics as you jump off the bed, grabbing your own jacket before finishing off your drink, motioning for the other two to start moving, wanting to just have fun for the rest of the night at Tony's party, to think about nothing other than being free for the moment.

***

Chanting echoed around inside your head and the room, the music blaring out of the speakers deafened by the collective cheer as you downed the last of the vile drink someone created for you, your face screwing up into a grimace at the way the alcohol burned the back of your throat. You felt a few pats on the back of your shoulder as you offered Bucky a dazed smile, the earlier drinks from the night seeming to have reached your head as you held onto his shoulder, chuckling at your drunkenness. His face only showed he was just as far gone as you were, the two of you laughing like idiots as you stumbled your way to the kitchen to make yourself another drink, the sound of your tipsy giggle catching the attention of Natasha as she shook her head at the state of the two of you, the pair of you too much of a chaotic duo for her to handle sometimes.

"What are you two doing?" she asks, raising her brow as she fixes herself a vodka, the Russian much better at handling her alcohol than you or Bucky, the two of your attempts at an innocent smile causing a small, endearing smile to break out onto her face.

"Nothing," Bucky mumbles, leaning against the countertop for support, purposely bumping into you to make you bump him back, trying to be subtle in front of the redhead but failing miserably as you annoy one another.

"So you weren't about to get shots?" She teases, grabbing another couple of glasses that were available, seemingly offering to pour you some, your gaze blurring briefly as you try to remember why this was familiar, the redhead confused at your puzzled and thoughtful expression.

"Nope," Bucky slurs, popping the 'p' and smiling at her charmingly, his blue eyes filled with love as he gazes at her, flashing her an affectionate smile to make her roll her eyes as he aims to make her blush. "But if you wanna pour us some that'd be ok," he murmurs, knowing if the two of you tried to do it there'd be a lot of broken glass or spilled drinks as well as an array of disappointed complaints about the waste of alcohol.

"Wait," your tone raising in a dramatic fashion as you point your finger at her, remembering the memory briefly, "Don't trust her. She's gonna give us shots of water," Bucky's face morphs into disbelief that Natasha would do such a thing, the redhead rolling her eyes as she downs her shot, needing it right now.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," she mutters to herself, smiling at you both as she pours you each a shot of Vodka, proving to you she wouldn't to make you both trust her, knowing full well she'd switch it to water for the next round.

"Salut," Bucky cheers before you all take another shot, a grimace taking over your face at the alcohol and the sight of Bucky kissing Natasha, the redhead chuckling at the man she cherished so much before kissing his cheek and wrapping her arm around his waist to keep him upright.

"Get a room," you groan, Natasha sticking her middle finger up at you as she kisses him again, your face showing your distaste for the view causing you to leave the couple alone, not wanting to see anymore.

You mutter nonsense to yourself as you stagger around, trying to slip past people who were dancing to the blaring music to find somewhere a little less crowded for a moment, eyes slowly drifting across the room as your vision blurred once again, the sight of a familiar head of brown hair making your dazed smile widen, warmth bubbling inside you.

Deciding to go and see Wanda, you attempted to make your way through the busy hallways to get to her but the sight of a drunk Maria stopped you in your tracks, the intense blue of the woman staring at you as her mouth moved, rambling to you about something but you couldn't hear anything she said, simply offering her a drunk smile back in response as you stared at Wanda.

God you missed her. You just wanted to go up to her and tell her how beautiful she was, how amazing she was. You wanted her to know how much you loved her, all her little quirks, her pretty smile, that amused look in her eyes when you'd do something stupid. You longed to hear that angelic laughter of hers, to hear that soft, embarrassed giggle. You yearned to hear the more sinful noises too, your drunken gaze eventually being torn away from her face to the outfit she was wearing, smiling to yourself at the skirt she had worn and the red jacket that she knew you loved, your intoxicated mind unable to think of anything but her. You were drunk on the thought of her and you were addicted to it.

Maria noticed your unfocused stare, the expectant look on her face fading away as she realised you hadn't listened to a word she said, a gentle chuckle leaving her as she took in how drunk you were, advising you to go to a bathroom for a moment before leaving as she saw her friend Clint across the room, leaving to have an actual conversation with someone.

You hadn't even noticed she left you, too busy letting the world fade around you as you gazed at Wanda, taking one, unsteady step forward before stopping, the sight of a blonde entering your vision wiping the enamoured expression off your face.

It felt like a piercing pain in your chest as you watched Vision lean next to Wanda, his body towering over hers as she grinned up at him, shooting another shot someone offered her before peering up at him like she always did to you, an ache building in your chest at the sight of them.

Thoughts raced through your mind, anxiety coursing through your veins and mixing with the alcohol, the room spinning a little as you felt that familiar tightness in your chest, your breathing accelerating as you gripped onto a piece of furniture to stop your knees from giving way, somehow unable to look away from the sight that would only cause you more pain.

His hand cupped her cheek before he leaned down to press his lips to hers, his other hand moving to hold her waist as she kissed him back just as passionately, trying to stop the feeling that gnawed away at her as she focussed on him, desperately trying to forget everything else as she pushed her body further into his, unknowingly pushing you further into your state of panic and anxiety.

You wanted to leave, to somehow escape the claustrophobic space of the party happening around you but your body seemed to freeze, your muscles not listening to your screaming brain as your breathing continued to become more laboured, your heart beating harder against your ribcage at the way her hand threaded through his blonde locks, scratching at his scalp as his hand drifted lower, slipping under the hem of her skirt.

At the feeling of bile rising up your throat, you managed to turn away from the painful sight of them, your heart squeezing in agony as you blink back the tears threatening to spill, your hand clutching at your shirt, the fabric feeling restrictive against you whilst you drowned in a spiral of negative thoughts.

Why? Why did she do this? You thought she cared about you. You thought you were more. It felt like more. Was she really that scared? That scared to confront herself? Or was she ashamed of you?

When the thoughts became too much, you realised you needed to get out of there. You needed to be alone. You pushed past people, not caring if they were annoyed at your actions as you stumbled across Tony's house to find one of the bathrooms, slamming the door shut as you fell to the floor, back resting against the wood as you held your head in your hands, struggling to steady your breathing at your incessant thoughts.

Why couldn't she just love you the way you loved her?

***

Leaning your head back against your truck, you felt a deep pit of regret stirring inside you, a tired and defeated sigh leaving you as you waited for the usual footsteps to sound next to you, your eyes closed as you waited for her to arrive. You hated how you agreed to see her again, how you pushed down the events of that night to pretend that nothing was wrong with you, that you didn't have your heart shattered by the woman making her way over to you. You just wanted the anxiety and hurt to go away, the only person in the world who made you feel safe and free from your thoughts ironically the person causing them, Wanda the only person able to clear away the lingering fog of anxiety wrapped around you and clear the sky for you, to make you feel free from all your problems for a brief moment. It was stupid really, you just hoped that if you drown yourself in the safety she provided you'd forget about everything, be able to draw a line under it and move on.

The sound of her footsteps made you plant a smile on your lips, your eyes gently fluttering open as she moved to stand next to you, her green observing the hint of uneasiness in you as she peered up at you, offering you that smile she knew calmed you down. The nerves only subsided a little at her delicate and soft look, the various shades of green gazing into you causing a small flicker of warmth to tickle your heart, not the usual fire that would warm your chest as doubts still gnawed away at you, part of you wanting to confront her about last night but deciding not to, simply asking her where she wanted to go tonight instead of vocalising your thoughts.

You drove her to the Lake as she requested, the car ride filled with light banter as you wanted to hear her laugh, to feel that flutter in your chest every time she did so, your mind slowly starting to push the memory of the party further down as you focussed on this moment with her, her mesmerising green still observing you with a small hint of confusion at your odd behaviour from earlier. Her worry faded as the car ride prolonged, your usual smile growing on your lips whilst your hand moved to her knee, squeezing softly as the country roads passed you by, the scenery of open space soon changing to deep forests as you approached your hidden lake.

Once you had arranged the truck as you always did, you laid down in the back against the pillows, watching tenderly as Wanda climbed in to join you, your eyes widening at the way she effortlessly straddled your lap, intent in her eyes as she smirked down at you, heat naturally pooling between your thighs at the seductive sight of her on top of you.

"What-" your words are cut off by a desperate kiss, a moan escaping you as your mind clouds with arousal, the feeling of her pressing into you, her hands cupping your jaw in an attempt to deepen the passionate and messy kiss, enough to free you of your thoughts as you wanted.

It was similar for Wanda, her mind craving you to push away her thoughts, body begging for you. She needed you. She needed you to touch her, to caress her hips and body in that loving way, to replace the feeling of his large, selfish and over confident hands, to feel your soft and gentle lips claim hers over and over again, not his dry ones that made her feel nothing. She didn't enjoy his wet and wanting tongue, she wanted to chase your teasing lips, to hear that smug little groan you'd offer her at her sinful moans, she needed to feel pleasure crash through her body, not the disappointment that washed through her that night. It was you she needed, not him, she just didn't want to accept that.

"I need you," she sighs out against you lips, a string of saliva connecting them before you lean up to claim her addictive mouth once more, your hands moving to her hips, gently squeezing the soft skin and having her moan in pleasure and almost relief as she concentrated on the way your electric touch made her feel. She couldn't help herself as she ground her hips down against you, sparks of pleasure and arousal building in her abdomen as she moaned and gasped into the heated kiss, your hands guiding her desperate movements as you naturally took control, something the brunette adored about you. You were always in control but also always caring, dominant and soft most of the time but rougher when you knew she could handle it. You knew how to read her body, to tease her and give her what she wanted, unlike Vision.

"Yeah?" you husk out in that smug voice, tone lowering and hands sliding lower down her body, appreciation and adoration in all of your touches, despite how sinful they were, as your fingers ghosted over the edge of her skirt, letting it hitch up slowly. You can't help but think back to the way his hands did the same to her, how his fingers slipped under to reach the soft skin of her thighs as yours did now, your touch faltering as you slide them off her inner thighs, going back to her hips. You try to ignore the unwanted thought as she lets you slide your tongue into her mouth, effortlessly controlling the kiss whilst your hands continue to guide her movements, her clit brushing against her soaked panties with every desperate rut of her hips. "Show me how much you need me," you murmur against her lips, her sinful sighs pushing the memory away briefly before you bite down on her lower lip, soothing the dull pain with your tongue, the brunette's body burning with desire and lust at your teasing actions, her hips rolling against your hips with more vigour, desperate to feel the pleasure building in her to overpower her.

"Fuck," she groans out when on of your hands slide under her shirt, nails scratching against the impossibly soft skin at her stomach, the sensation causing her muscles to tense as a small amount of pain mixes with pleasure. "Please," she whispers, tone pleading whilst her hands leave your jaw, threading through your hair and scratching at your scalp, needing you to do more.

The action however stops you, your mind once again returning to the memory, remembering the same way she let her fingers slide through his blonde, how she pulled his head closer to deepen the kiss, disgust filling you at the unwanted thoughts that followed. Did she do this when he fucked her too? Tug on his hair like she does with you when you push her over the edge over and over again? It sickened you, the mere thought of them, making you break the kiss off, uncomfortable with what was going on. You needed to know what you meant to her, what the two of you were.

"Wanda, stop," you croaked out, your hands stilling her hips as her mouth ghosted over yours, her body pulling back immediately at your tone, the lustful look in her enchanting green dissipating into concern.

"What's wrong?" she whispers, eyes searching yours as her fingers brush some of your hair back affectionately, only further increasing the confusion stirring inside you at her tenderness.

"What are we?" you ask, vulnerability swirling in your eyes as you look up at her, her body still on top of yours, her brows furrowing at your question.

"What?" her tone acts confused as she avoids your gaze, a harrowing sense of dread filling her at what she thinks you mean, not wanting to talk about what the two of you were. She wanted you, she knew deep down that was all she wanted, but she couldn't. You were wrong for her, something to be ashamed of. Her love for you was shameful. She just wanted to be normal.

"What are we doing?" You ask, keeping your gaze on her as you whisper the words, scared to hear the answer but needing to know whether she cared about you. "I saw you and Vision at the party..." your words trail off at the way her eyes instantly snap back to you, guilt and something undecipherable washing over her face whilst you continue, "I just- I thought we were-" you cut yourself off with sighs, not wanting to say what you mean, too scared to be rejected.

"Were what?" her tone hardened slightly, scared you were going to say something that would make her confront herself, a small part of her hoping you'd still say you were something more. She crushed the small glimmer of hope just as fast it came, her reluctance to be like that too powerful. She wasn't one of them. No, she was going to be normal. She was going to have Vision and he was going to give her everything she'd need to fit in.

"I thought you cared," you murmur in a quiet voice, the small tone of your voice creating a dull ache in her chest, her features softening momentarily before confliction etched its way onto her face.

"I do care," she sighs out, trying to figure out how to unravel her messy thoughts and put them into a sentence, her hands moving to brush her own hair back in a stressed manner, her head looking away from you to try and distance herself momentarily. "What we are is... casual," she says after a moment, a nauseous feeling stirring inside her at saying the words, knowing that they weren't true. She was just making another excuse, coming up with another stupid reason to not have that conversation with you.

You scoff at her words, feeling the bottled up anger from the last few days seep into your veins, your gaze conveying your irritation at her as she meets your gaze, her fingers anxiously playing with one another at your reaction.

"You know that's not true," your tone matching her provoked one, shaking your head in disbelief as she looks away from you, trying her best to not let you see the tears threatening to spill as she tries to stop the feelings towards you.

"We agree on this being casual, no strings attached," Wanda manages out, the brunette biting down on her lower lip to stop it trembling as she builds up the courage to look at you, preparing for the pain that would envelope her heart at the idea of hurting you.

"But Wanda-" you try, wanting to argue that this was never just casual, the two of you always having been drawn together.

"No," she interrupts, not willing to hear you out. "We agreed on that and-" she pauses, hesitating over her own words which only disproves her point, "Nothing has changed for me. If it's changed for you we need to call this off."

Her words pierce your heart, the usual playful look in your eyes replaced with a blank stare as you looked behind her at the lake, forcing yourself to keep it together and suffer in silence whilst contemplating your answer. You should tell her the truth, break off the arrangement to stop any more pain for the both of you, but you were selfish. Having her like this, just a little bit, was more important to you than not having her at all.

"No," you whisper out, clearly not meaning the words as you answer her, "Nothing's changed."

"Good," her tone is shaky as she mutters the word, not having it in her to call out your blatant lie.

Once the two of you grew silent, you realised she was still on your lap, the brunette moving off you swiftly and apologetically before sitting next to you, not leaning her head on your shoulder as she usually would, simply staring out at the scenery in front of her as she truly grasped how hard it was going to be to stop the way she felt towards you.

She'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

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ataliagold · 7 months ago

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Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer week 1 prompt 'short shorts'. Title from Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

#a stranger summer #stranger things fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

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wrizard · 2 months ago

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wrizard's super basic guide to y-chromosome-based identification!!

for those interested, on this fitzcovery day:

a dear friend asked me to explain why i felt completely insane about the phrase "genetic distance of one" and, as usual, i got overexcited and wrote an entire thing about it complete with goofy images! it's on twt HERE, but i figured it would also be nice to pop it up here also. SO. with the caveat that it has been many years since my last bio class and this is VERY OVERSIMPLIFIED. here's

Human DNA is grouped into chromosomes. We generally have TWO of each chromosome: 22 pairs (numbered 1-22), plus one pair of sex chromosome (typically either two X-chromosomes (XX), or one X-chromosome and one Y-chromosome (XY)). That's 23 pairs, or 46 chromosomes, in total.

When producing sex cells, matching chromosome pairs will RECOMBINE (swap bits of information) - eg. one Chromosome 4 will remix itself with the other Chromosome 4, making TWO UNIQUE C4s. When the cell splits into two sex cells, each sex cell will carry ONE unique C4.

That's sexual reproduction! Every new offspring is genetically unique - new combinations of traits pop up quickly, and if they improve reproductive fitness, can be passed on to future offspring. This allows for rapid adaptation and changes in a species over time.

But what about Y-chromosomes, which don’t have pairs? They can't recombine in the way paired chromosomes can - which means Y-chromosomes pretty much only change via mutation (errors in copying DNA). Mutation is VERY slow, especially compared to recombination.

This means that when an XY parent passes down their Y-chromosome to a child, chances are high that chromosome will have few, if any, changes – as opposed to X-chromosomes, which recombine in both XX parents and children, shuffling genetic information all over the place.

Due to this slow rate of change, Y-chromosomes can be more easily tracked through the generations than other human chromosomes. A Y-chromosome might be passed down nearly unchanged for hundreds of years from genetic father to genetic son.

GENETIC DISTANCE refers to the measurement of difference between two sets of DNA. The lower the genetic distance, the more closely related the two samples are likely to be. A genetic distance of 1 means the samples are close to identical.

Because we know how slowly Y-chromosomes change over time, we know that if the Y-chromosomes of two people have a low genetic distance, this implies that those people are paternally related – even if the two people live/lived hundreds of years apart.

In the case of Captain James Fitzjames, genetic data was extracted from a set of unidentified remains (a molar from a disarticulated mandible). 17 genetic markers from the molar’s Y-chromosome were compared to the Y-chromosome of a confirmed paternal relative of the Captain.

Those 17 markers were the same in both samples, giving the two Y-chromosomes a genetic distance of one – meaning, with the genetic information available, the living relative and the unidentified decedent are more than 2000 TIMES more likely to be paternally related than not.

EDIT: DOIP I MISREAD THE CHART 16 of 17 match, not all 17!!

Along with all the information we have from the historical record, the context of the remains, and this new comparative genetic analysis, we can safely conclude that this particular set of remains belong to Captain Fitzjames.

160 years isn't long in the grand scheme. Every identified set of remains is another reminder that these were people, not just a distant curiosity. It's humbling to remember not just that we have identified Cpt. Fitzjames, but that still, today, we have a genetic distance of one.

Photos and Y-chromosome comparison chart taken from Stephen, Fratpietro, and Park's paper "Identification of a senior officer from Sir John Franklin’s Northwest Passage expedition" from the Journal of Archaeological Science: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352409X24003766?via%3Dihub

hope my nonsense is helpful and/or informative and/or at least made you smile!! if you like this sort of thing :) cheers doves

#james fitzjames #the terror #wriz writes #wriz draws #I GUESS LMAO.#cw bones #finally a use for my 4/5 of an anthro minor 🙏

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ganxiously · 25 days ago

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911 Fic Writing Resource: Shift Timings

Okay, so initially I was going to add this to my last post but the topic was completely different so I decided to make a new one. @capsbooty7 and @rutathenurse pointed out that since Tommy was working at the same time as Buck and the rest of the gang, he most likely worked the A shift and thus had his work time completely synced with Buck's. The concept was intriguing enough that I took a look into it.

Like many others, I had previously thought that each house had its own rota, and the timing and length of the shifts varied accordingly. However, that appears to not be the case. Firefighters, in the LAFD at least, work in 3 shifts - A, B and C and each of these shifts are 24 hours long. They don't do the 24/48 or the 48/96 but instead follow what I am given to believe is called the California Swing Shift or a Kelly schedule. Here, they essentially work every other day for 5 days and then have 4 days off. So the schedule is - On - Off - On - Off - On - Off - Off - Off - Off. This means they are usually working 72 hours per rotation but they can also trade in shifts or work overtime if they want to.

From what I found out, you can take more shifts or reduce it according to your convenience by trading with others so technically you can still do 48 hours and then even pull in overtime but the limit for a continuous shift is 60 hours after which you have to take a mandatory 12 hours off [this information was a bit outdated so I am not sure if this rule still stands]. Trade almost always happens for 12 or 24 hours but it isn't unheard of to do an 18 hour trade. Overtime usually happens in 12 hour shifts and you get paid overtime rates only when you have crossed 56 hours in a working week.

As for vacation days, you get 16 days after one year of service and 24 days after 10 years (so Tommy is getting 24 while Buck is getting 16 but Bobby, however, might be getting 25 since I'm guessing he's been a firefighter for at least 31 years). There are also 13 paid floating leave days allotted each year - 1 every 4 weeks.

Shift times are the same for every firehouse and the work day starts at 8am officially but you are expected to make 'face-to-face relief' at 6:30 am.

I am also including the January 2024 schedule here: [follow a colour to understand how the shifts work and where you can sneak in lengthy shifts]

If you have more information or would like to correct me on something, feel free to let me know.

@itsjustpoopeh mentioned:

and @ironworked pointed out:

@cafe-con-letty sent this ask talking about how Tommy's shift might vary as a helicopter pilot so you can also check this out.

#911 abc #bucktommy #fic resources #i'm not sure how helpful this actually is #but i went down a rabbit hole and now i know a LOT lot about lafd working hours #most of it is not pertinent however so you are getting the filtered version instead of a paragraph on Maurice Kelly

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edenesth · 8 months ago

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TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [Teaser]

Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

A/N: Special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for coming up with the title of our captain's spinoff.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 1

"Well, what do you think?" inquired the dressmaker, proudly unveiling his newest masterpiece to his latest customer.

Eyeing the elegantly colourful hanbok, which was a departure from your usual plain white ones, your gaze remained impassive. After what seemed like an eternity, you responded with a slight furrow of your brows, "It uhh... it looks nice, I suppose."

As you watched Hongjoong's reaction falter momentarily, it appeared as though he was experiencing a million emotions per second before settling on a deeply offended expression. With an audible scoff, he clenched his jaw, "Nice, you say? Just... nice? You suppose? Miss Baek, that is utterly outrageous! Throughout my career, I've only ever been praised for delivering perfection."

You stayed silent as he continued to extol his successes, boasting about being the best dressmaker in all of Joseon and citing his most illustrious achievements, such as the wedding dress he crafted for Lady Park, which even impressed Their Majesties. It dawned on you that your simple response had deeply wounded him.

"I-I mean... it's not bad," you interjected, hoping to fix the damage, but your heart sank as he only glared at you, "Not bad...? I'm sorry, was that supposed to console me?" he chuckled incredulously, "You know what? Now I understand why you're still single. At this rate, you'll never find a husband."

Ouch.

The way Hongjoong's spinoff wasn't even meant to be next, but y'all were so hyped for his, I had to change up the sequence HAHA as always, I'd love to hear all your thoughts on the concept! <3

Tag list (1/4): @itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 @foxinnie8 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 @kpop17 @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @kamabokogonpachro @chngbnwf @dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 @naps-over-degree

#edenesth #the way to his heart #stitched hearts #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #historical au #joseon era #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez fic

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trashogram · 9 months ago

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He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion.

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality.

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it.

“Hey.”

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?”

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said.

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard.

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs.

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.”

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar.

However —

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up.

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly.

“That’s new.” He said.

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

“Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground.

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself.

“Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably! It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…”

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened.

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery.

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few.

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive.

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been.

He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you.

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels.

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch.

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind.

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe.

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze.

“Fuck.” He croaked.

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh.

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back.

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.”

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes.

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest.

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly.

“If you insist, princess.”

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder.

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach.

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor.

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe.

—

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs.

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined.

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching.

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again.

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming.

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm.

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly.

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers.

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach.

Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin.

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly.

—

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break.

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.”

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze.

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.”

The woman sighs.

“You might not always.”

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek.

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep.

“What’s that from?” You rasped.

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear.

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before.

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.”

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind.

“Hey!”

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan,

Please let me know I missed tagging you!

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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3liza · 2 months ago

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some other interesting things I saw today on my four mile march along Lake Union:

1. a "sorry I missed you" card left on a mailbox cluster for houseboats, from the Nielsen ratings corporation. immediate reactions: can't believe Nielsen ratings are still a thing, it sort of makes sense to target houseboats since they must be 99% owned by boomers, but wouldn't they not usually have cable? maybe they have satellite. i thought about stealing the card because I've always wanted to be a Nielsen household specifically for the purposes of data spoilage

2. very stereotypical German Shepherd Guy laboriously walking his clearly purebred and already basically crippled shepherd yearling on, of course, a prong collar, doing absolutely zero food or praise reinforcement. dog was visibly nervous. I smiled at him because I wanted to pet a puppy, no response

3. millennial woman walking a pug past me while on her phone, just long enough to overhear the four words "kennel cough last year" as she passed. i bet it did ma'am

4. about twenty yacht dealerships. seriously why aren't we vandalizing these places

5. the fascinating and ancient China Harbor restaurant which has been a rotting, monolithic black tiled cube down at the waterfront for decades. apparently it shared a building with a swimming pool, that cannot smell good to either party. I've always wanted to go to China Harbour but it's apparently one of those nightmarish buffets that have mostly disappeared and not one of the good ones. like surviving from the 1950s type of buffet.

photographs don't do the looming effect of this architecture enough credit. also apparently they finally closed last month with a 3.1 rating on yelp

#blog #seattle #lake union #westlake #china harbor

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selkies-world · 1 year ago

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Language resources

(Duolingo alternatives)

For those who no longer use or trust Duolingo, I've put together a list of resources - apps, learning methods, programmes, etc - with a list of whether or not they are free, and my personal experience with their success at teaching a language. I have also included new ones that I haven't tried yet but which I have researched; for these, I have included a rating of how much hope I have for them panning out in the future.

[I grew up bilingual & went to a multicultural school that had a student body consisting of children from refugee families who spoke little to no English. The school prioritised teaching the entire student body the minority languages, and finding a bridge language we could all learn together to fill in any gaps in communication. Due to this, I spent the last 4 years of primary school learning new languages with the rest of the student body.

We would have a school-wide lesson for 1 hour once a week - usually with a child or staff member fluent in that language leading the lesson at the front of the gym with a microphone so we could hear the correct pronunciation in time with reading the native spelling & English phonetics on the projector screen at the front of the hall. We were expected to use this language in the corridors when we spoke with teachers or staff members and when we passed by other students regardless of what their or our native languages were. As far as fluency went, we were expected to be able to recognise and say greetings and goodbyes, enquire to each others well-being, know how to ask for assistance, how to ask for medical help for various things, how to ask where the bathroom was, to give and receive directions around the entire school, as well as colours, names of things found around the school, make small talk about our activities of the day and our family, and why we were out of class - all with relative ease & mutual understanding.

We changed language after every break, so it was roughly 8 hours of lessons in each language, before we would start again with a new one.

Alongside this, the older students in the school (final 3 years, aged 9 - 11/12) would learn French 3+ hours a week for those 3 years so their writing, reading and speaking standards were acceptable for the beginning of high school. In 1 of these years, we also studied both of our native languages for the first time, for 6 weeks each.

I left traditional schooling at 11, and while I was home-schooled I taught myself Italian, Russian, and Latin from scratch, along with relearning my preferred native language, and 2 forms of sign - I used Makaton as a young child and in school as I have a form of mutism, but as a teen I realised I associated this language with the severe trauma I experienced at school, and so suffered from flashbacks and dissociative episodes when I used it. This, along with medical concerns, led to me learning BSL, and then SSE. Today, I use a combination of English, SSE and my native language in everyday settings. I have a mental block for learning French due to it being heavily associated with my trauma.

I am saying all this not for sympathy, but so that you can see firstly how much I enjoy and value learning languages, and in order to show my experience levels with learning languages. I've used, tried, and tested all of the learning methods I will be talking about in this post. I have either used or done a lot of research into the apps and programmes discussed in this post.

And yes, I have prioritised ones that teach endangered languages, indigenous languages and languages that aren't often included in language media such as Hebrew, various forms of Arabic, Navajo, Gaelic, and others. I have also included ones that teach and / or document sign languages and sign communication systems.]

Please note that the following lists are arranged in no particular order. They are not ranked best to worst or by any other X to Y ratio. They are simply ranked according to how I remembered, tested, or found each of them.

Apps

1: Fluyo.

Rating for hope / faith: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: n/a

Cost: unknown

Status: not yet publicly available

Please note that while Fluyo is not yet available, its Kickstarter page is flourishing, its app is in development, and the developer is a man of colour who has continued to devote himself to this app and its development despite rising health concerns, developing a life-changing disabling condition, and numerous set-backs. His YouTube channel is very educational, and he has also written a book on language-learning. If you would like to know more, you can learn about him here. Fluyo is set up like a computer game with multiple cute characters who are interactive rather than stationary, and I genuinely have high hopes for it once it is released.

2: Babble

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial for the first lesson, but a paid subscription is required for any further lessons

Status: available to download

3: Language Drops

Personal experience: ☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free for some lessons, but a paid account is required for access to all lessons

Status: available to download

4: Fluent forever

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free access to basic lessons to build your confidence with the language, but a paid subscription is required for unlimited access

Status: available to download

5: Lingopie

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial for 7 days, but a paid subscription is required after that for continued use of the app

Status: available to download

6: Fluenday

Hope for: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

7: Language flower

Hope for: ☆

Languages available: ☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆

Cost: free, as far as I can tell

Status: available to download

8: Sign BSL / Daniel Mitchell

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

Please note that Daniel Mitchel offers a BSL version of this, along with an ASL version.

9: Bright BSL / sign lab

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness:☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for some lessons + premium for all other lessons

Status: available to download

Please note that Sign Lab offers this app for the following sign languages: BSL (Bright BSL), ASL (ASL Bloom), LSF (Pause LSF / Langue des Signes, yoDGS, Libras (LibrasLab), Italian Sign Language (MeLISegno), and Toleio: Norsk Tegnspråk.

10: BSL zone

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

11: Reverso context

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

This is less for learning a language, more for quick reference / fact-checking a translation.

12: Pimsleur

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free 7 day trial, but a paid subscription is required for continued use

Status: available to download

13: Memrise

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for introductory levels, with a premium option to unlock majority of lessons

Status: available to download

14: Busluu

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: Free, with a premium option to download lessons, more repetition, and extra lessons

Status: available to download

15: Hello Talk

Hope for: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

16: Rosetta Stone

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: monthly subscription is required

Status: available to download

17: Lingo Deer

Personal experience: ☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, with a premium option for all lessons beyond Basics 1

Status: available to download

18: Beelinguapp

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial, but a subscription is required for total access

Status: available to download

19: Lingvist

Personal experience: ☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆ (though it does have an option to suggest other languages for them to add, and which language you would like to learn from, and they'll email you when / if that language becomes available)

Effectiveness: unknown

Cost: free

Status: available to download

[Please note this one is not photosensitive friendly or seizure friendly. I had to close the app as soon as I opened it due to the design on their opening page, and even when I reopened it and clicked straight through, their colour scheme was still upsetting to my senses.]

20: Lingvano

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for a few lessons, but for access to all lessons, a paid subscription is required

Status: available to download

21: Duocards

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, but a more advanced version is available for premium accounts

Status: available to download

22: Chatterbug

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free with limited access, but a paid version is available

Status: available to download

23: Mango languages learning

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial, with a premium account required for further access

Status: available to download

24: EdX

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost:

Status: available to download

Please note that EdX is an app which houses courses on multiple subjects, not specifically a language-learning app.

25: Mondly Languages

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free, though it does repeatedly offer you a subscription account for an experience catered to you and your interests

Status: available to download

Please note this one may be triggering to those who are photosensitive or whose senses are upset by rapid moving gifs. There is a crown in the top right-hand corner which vibrates very quickly.

26: Speakly

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial, with a subscription account required for further use

Status: available to download

27: Pocket sign

Hope for: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, as far as I can tell

Status: available to download

28: Lingo legend language learning

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, though I think there may be a premium option either available but unmentioned, or in the works

Status: available to download

Please note that this app offers you the chance to vote for which languages should be added to its interface, so they can prioritise which ones to fund.

29: INC sign language app

Hope for: ☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

For those with religious trauma, please note that INC stands for Iglesia Ni Cristo, and the INC Sign Language App "is a project of the Christian Society for the Deaf under the Christian Family Organizations Office of the Iglesia Ni Cristo (Church Of Christ)". While it does not appear to prioritise religious content, the content does feature people dressed in suits as if for attending a church sermon.

30: My signing time

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: 14 day free trial, and a subscription is required after this point

Status: available to download

Please note that this one is aimed at babies / toddlers & families.

32: Falou

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, with a premium option if you want to learn more than 1 language & unlock additional courses in your chosen language

Status: available to download

33: Earworms

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for the demo, then after that, the lessons are broken into two "volumes" to buy individually, or 1 bonus-pack which contains both to buy once at a slightly reduced cost.

Status: available to download

Please note that Earworms used to be available as CD lessons, which is when I first used them. The CDs were in Volumes and were more expensive than all costs on this app. I used them 10 years ago and still remember what I learned despite not getting to use the language very often, so I can guarantee their method is very effective.

34: Qlango

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, with a premium option for the final 3 levels

Status: available to download

Please note that this one is laid out more like a semi-immersive lesson plan rather than a game. However, it is currently my favourite one.

Other resources

1: Signing hands (YouTube)

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to watch

2: Military style

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: n/a

Status: available to begin for free, though it will be difficult for you to find an environment that allows you to experience this authentically. If you would like to learn more about what the military style is, I will speak about it further below.

3: Textbooks / Reading materials

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, or otherwise up to you (what you are willing / able to spend on it)

Status: available to start whenever you feel like it

You can find numerous language-learning resources listed at the end of this post. I also recommend buying an up-to-date dictionary and thesaurus in your chosen language, and studying it. Study the grammar noted in the front, and then actually read the dictionary. It will seem strange, but it will benefit you in the long-run. Make notes as you go, highlight and colour some things in as you see fit.

Learning methods

1: Immersion

Over and over again, we are told that immersion is the best, most effective way to learn a language. This is because this is how we often think children learn languages - and we're partly right about that.

Immersion is the process of immersing yourself in the chosen language, with one single choice: learn the language, or suffer.

If our brains have to choose between struggling to pronounce a few words while gesturing to something we want and clinging onto sounds we hear like trying to hold onto a wet otter, or not getting what we want, we're going to choose to sound & look like an idiot, pointing and saying basic sounds, even if trying to remember the reply is like trying to remember Pi.

With enough time, though, we pick the language up remarkably well when we have no choice but to pick it up. This is the method which has us mimicking accents and gestures and expressions in order to best gain what we want: to express ourselves, our needs and our desires.

However, immersion is often critiqued because unless you have the means to fly to the country that speaks your desired language and live there with 0 influence from your native language for 6+ months... Well, you're not fully immersed, are you? Language apps try to give you an immersive experience, but you can always put your phone down. Depending on where you were educated, you may have had an immersive language class, where you had to learn the language or not be able to join in and so failed by default.

Good ways to mimic immersion are: finding radio channels in your chosen language and watching TV shows in your chosen language without subtitles, and listening to music in your chosen language.

2: Flashcards

Flashcards often tend to be a popular way to test your memory and retention of a particular subject. However, using them to begin learning a language can lead to a loss of motivation.

If you are creating the flashcards yourself, I would recommend creating them in 2 sets: 1 which is the traditional flashcard (your first language OR a picture on one side, and the translation on the other side), and 1 which has twice as many, with only 1 side being used. This second set should be designed like playing cards - the word or picture on one side, and a plain back.

This second set can be used when you're wanting to boost your motivation or confidence - arrange the cards face down, and begin playing the children's game of Pairs. Another option would be Snap.

When you return to using the traditional flashcards, you'll have a better foundation to build on if you've taught yourself to see these as fun, and taught your brain to associate these cards with quickfire responses - such as are brought to the surface during childrens' cards games.

3: Stickers

This is a method which seems obvious once it's pointed out, but seems confusing if you've never done it before.

Simply put, using stickers is when you create or buy stickers with the translation of everyday objects, words and phrases in your chosen language, and put them up around your house. "Door" goes on the door. "Cupboard" goes on the outside of a cupboard, "bread" goes on the inside. "Fridge" goes on the fridge door. "Milk" goes behind the milk so you see it every time you pick the milk up. "Lightswitch" goes above / under the lightswitch. Etc etc etc.

This is a memory retention technique used for multiple scenarios. Nurseries and schools may sometimes have the Makaton sign for something shown in a large diagram stuck to the walls / surfaces. Carehomes may have the names & purposes of objects stuck to the surfaces / objects in the dominant language, for the residents with memory issues or communication barriers.

While this is a good technique for quickfire memory boosts, it can be a slow way to learn a language from scraps, and is better suited for when you are semi-familiar with the written form of the language you are learning. It is also a good way to get everyone involved, as everyone in the home will be interacting with the stickers.

4: Forced conversation

This one is controversial, but can be very effective if it is approached with an open mind, clear communication and previously-agreed upon rules and lines.

The method of forced conversation is exactly what it sounds like: it is when you are engaged in a conversation in your target language, in which the person whom you are conversing with refuses to speak your original language. However, no matter how poor your language skills are, or how uncomfortable you get, they do not stop the conversation, and you do not let to leave the situation until they are satisfied you have communicated well enough, and have understood them. This will usually be "proven" by them giving you instructions, asking a specific question, or requesting you do something for them - if you follow the action through, you have understood them, if you try to give a vague answer and do not do the task, you have not understood them, and the interaction is forced to continue. Again.

This method is controversial because it is not immediately inclusive or welcoming for those who are shy, have anxiety, any form of Mutism, or who have a neurodiversiry or learning disability which impacts their communication. In formal situations, it is often these people who fall behind or get put off from learning a language if forced conversations are the only method they have the option of.

However, if there are adaptions made and accommodation previously discussed and provided, this can still be a viable method which is inclusive to all.

If the person speaking your target language is previously informed of your communication issues or complications, and are instructed in how to accommodate you (ie: Do they need to point at something, or use picture cards as prompts? Do you prefer using picture cards? Do you get distracted if they use hand gestures? Do you need fidget toys provided? Will it be easier for you if you are not forced to maintain eye contact? Will it be better for you if one or both of you are moving around rather than sitting down directly across from each other? Do the lights need to be altered in your environment to make the sensory experience less overwhelming? Do you use noise cancelling headphones? Do you focus better if there is music on in the background? Are there certain tones of voice or volume levels that need to be avoided? Does constantly changing body language stress you out? Do you have a stutter or speech impediment that may impact your pronunciation? Etc.)

Accomodaring these issues, and coming up with a signal to take a break (ie, if you have issues telling the difference between "I am angry at you personally" and "I am tired today" in vocal tones and facial expressions, will you get upset if you think the person is angry at you for not knowing their language? If so, do you need a signal to take a break so you can clearly communicate your stress, and they can give you an answer in your original language and clarify anything which is upsetting or confusing you, before continuing the conversation in your target language?) or to speak in simpler terms? Is their one subject you can talk about particularly well (a hyperfixation) which they can use in the conversation to help you engage?

All of these accommodations may seem intimidating, but if all those involved are aware of these accommodations going into the conversation, it can make the interaction much more positive and productive.

Forced conversation uses the same logic as immersion: if your brain has to choose between looking / sounding like an idiot who stumbles over words, or a very uncomfortable situation which lasts longer each time you make a mistake, your brain will choose to look like an idiot in order to achieve what it wants.

5: Repetition

Repetition is a very common method of learning a language, though it is often criticised for being ineffective.

It is when a phrase or word is said by one party, and repeated by another. If the second party does not pronounce it correctly, the first party repeats it again. This continues until the second party gets it correct. Then the pattern is repeated with another phrase / word. Once a certain number of words have been said correctly by the second party, the first party will return to the start and repeat the process again, with the second party having to say the phrases / words correctly multiple times before being able to move onto the next. The entire process continues in this loop until the second party is saying things correctly with ease.

This method is part of what makes up both immersion, flashcards and military style methods for language learning. It can also be used with textbook learning.

However, it is often critiqued because once the second party is away from the first party and left to their own devices, their confidence in their previous pronunciation will falter, and when they return to the lesson or need to use the language again, they'll be at a lower level of achievement than they were when they left. It is also very tedious, and can become boring.

6: Music

When I spoke about immersion, I briefly mentioned music. I also said that we assume children learn language via immersion. However, as adults we often overlook something else which plays a crucial role in teaching children language: music.

Children learn language, rhythm, speech patterns, and turn-of-phrase via songs, rhymes, riddles, fables, tongue-twisters, and music.

This is why it can be priceless to learn songs in your chosen language. Lullabies. Nursery rhymes. Children's songs. Pop songs that are ridiculed as being too simple or written without talent. Theme tunes from children's shows. Traditional rhymes and tongue-twisters. Most of these can be found via a long time on YouTube.

Music works in a unique way, worming its way into our minds. Our brains are hardwired to recognise and remember patterns - and music is made up of patterns. This is why we get songs stuck in our heads for no reason. Being able to use this to your advantage to learn or remember a new language can be an amazing experience.

7: Subtitles and language swap

This is a method which can be useful when you are learning more than one language, but are more familiar with one than the other.

It is where you watch / listen to a certain media in 1 language, while reading the subtitles / lyrics in another language. This way, the language you are more familiar with / fluent in will fill the gaps of understanding the less familiar one.

You can then challenge yourself by removing one language (muting the media & only reading the subtitles, or removing the subtitles and only listening to the provided audio) and seeing how well you follow along / understand.

This can also be used with your target language and your original language.

8: Writing it down

This is another form of repetitive learning which can be useful when studying / retaining for an exam, but can also be useful when you are first learning the written-to-verbal patterns of a language.

One method is longterm recall: this is where you write down short notes, words & phrases in your target language 1+ hour after engaging with your learning resources. This tests how much you retained. It is a physical show of how much you have actually learned.

Another method is short term recall & build-up: this is where you choose a single word / phrase, and write it as lines (Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are-) until your page is full. Then go back to the start and write over the top of your own writing, staying as close to your original marks as possible. Repeating this pattern multiple times until your page rips or the words become close to unreadable tricks your brain into focusing morenon your handwriting than on the language - as such, you will start to see the phrase / word as a pattern to follow, and it is then left to your subconscious mind to retain it while your conscious mind prioritises hand-eye coordination and fine motor skills.

9: Textbook

If you're more academically inclined, you may prefer a textbook method of study. This is the style used in most night classes and / or some traditional education classes.

Textbook methods have everything arranged by date and time, and learning goals are broken down & laid out according to a set calender: by x, you will have learned this amount, by y, you will have learned this amount, so on so forty until the final set date when you will be "fluent" or a certain level of reasonably fluent.

Most of the time with this method, you will be following guidelines, activities and lesson plans previously arranged in a chosen textbook, and that textbook will be your sole or primary resource.

10: Bilingual books (page by page)

Using page-by-page bilingual books can be confusing and is often overlooked in regards to adult education - however, it can be somewhat interesting to try.

On one page, the text will be written in your original language - on the opposite page, the same text will be repeated in your target language. Seeing the two side-by-side allows you to read your target language and instantly refer back to your original language if you get stuck on a word or phrase.

There is another form of bilingual books often given to children: line-by-line. These feature the image / picture, with the original text written clearly and simply, usually no more than 1 or 2 sentences per page. Directly underneath them will be the translated text written in a different font.

11: Same story / movie, different language

While this can be a fun method, it isn't always the most beneficial if you're looking for accuracy - however, it can be useful if you're wanting to test yourself.

It uses a similar logic to the subtitles & language swap method: you put on a movie you are familiar with, but you put it on in your target language with 0 subtitles. This allows you to engage with the language while using the familiar movie / story as a bridge.

12: Military Style

This is perhaps the most effective technique to use of you have a set amount of time to reach a specified level of understanding / fluency in a language. However, it is also one of the most difficult to fully replicate yourself.

Military style is a form of forced immersion combined with forced conversation and repetitive loops, but with reward and punishment techniques to make you prioritise learning the language over your own comfort zone / personal boundaries.

An example of this style would be party 1 having party 2 engage in forced conversation in front of an audience, then having them repeat a phrase they got wrong over and over until they get it right - all in front of the audience, with a rule set which forbids party 2 from sitting down or disengaging the interaction until they have finished the task. Nobody in the audience is allowed to help party 2. Party 1 continues to push party 2 outside of their comfort zone by having them continue the conversation, repeating any mistakes until they are corrected, and the conversation does not end until it is completed.

After that, party 2 has to do 100 push-ups while repeating the phrase they got wrong the most - and they have to pronounce it correctly while doing the push-ups. Any mistakes, and they go back to 1, regardless of if they were at 7 or 98.

This combined punishment of mild public humiliation and physically pushing their body beyond its limits makes the brain see learning the language as the solution to ending this treatment - as such, party 2 will be far less likely to repeat those mistakes again.

Alongside this, there is forced immersion, in the sense that nobody is allowed to speak their original language in any context or to anyone - they must use the target language or be ignored at best or ridiculed at worst.

Understandably, this method is difficult to replicate on your own or outside of the army.

However, there are some tokens which can be taken from it: notably forced repetition & physical exercise.

Set yourself a challenge using any of the previously mentioned learning methods or apps. Keep note of your mistakes.

At the end of the challenge (say 30 minutes of learning) count up all your mistakes. Now do a push-up / squat / pull-up / sit-up / etc for each mistake you made while repeating the phrase out loud. If you stall too long on making a connection in your mind or stumble over the sounds, start counting from 1 again. Repeat this until you're continuously getting the mistakes correct.

At the end, go back to your lesson and repeat it. Did you get less mistakes?

Thoughts & considerations when it comes to learning a language - for language savants and novices alike

"If you don't use it, you lose it" is probably one of the most hated phrases in terms of learning anything new - and especially in terms of learning a language. I think a better expression would be "If you don't make room for it, you won't keep it".

If you don't make time to learn a language, you won't learn it.

If you don't challenge yourself to reach a certain standard, you won't achieve any standard.

If you don't make the effort to retain the new information, you'll forget it.

When you learn a new language, you have to make room for it in your mind. You have to be willing to make mistakes and continue, knowing you're not doing it perfectly. You have to be willing to make it a priority, even if nobody else in your life sees it as one. You have to be willing to be frustrated and tired and bored. You have to be willing to get every single thing wrong and try again. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable with the new sounds you're making and you have to be willing to be patient while your brain digs out a new burrow of tunnels and connections which didn't previously exist.

If you genuinely want to learn a new language, you have to make room for it in your mind and life. Even when sometimes it's a tight fit.

Resources, as promised

Reading, writing & textbook materials:

Book 1

Book 2

Book 3

Book 4

Book 5

Structured notebook 1

Structured notebook 2

Structured notebook 3

Something worth checking out 1

Other things to invest in:

A dictionary in your target language

Picture cards

Flashcards

Stickers

Books in your target language

Children's books in your target language

Nursery rhyme books in your target language

Magazine subscriptions in your target language on a topic you find fascinating

Newspapers in your target language

Poetry in your target language

1 paid language learning app - a lot of the time, you get what you pay for. Not always, but usually.

Notebooks, stationary, etc

Headphones / earplugs

Media in your target language

#languages #langblr #language #linguistics #learning #learn languages #education #educate yourself #educate yourselves #educación #educação #free education #free resources #resources #duolingo #savant

622 notes · View notes

peterspinkrobe · 1 year ago

Text

Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]

Word count: 2,270 (oops)

Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).

A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’

// Psalms 32:3-4

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;

Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.

The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.

You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.

Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.

The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.

You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.

Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.

Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.

Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.

The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.

Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.

Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.

You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.

There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.

This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’

All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.

Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.

The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.

You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…

As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.

An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.

The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.

Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.

It was still there.

You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.

But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.

You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.

Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.

You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.

The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.

Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!

Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.

Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.

Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…

You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.

You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”

The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.

“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”

You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.

“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.

“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is

“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.

“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.

“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.

Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.

But that’s not what you heard next.

You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.

To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.

Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.

Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…

I pray you liked this, dear reader.

Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod

#miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #priest!miguel #priest au #au fic #across the spiderverse #miguel x you

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dnfao3tags · 1 year ago

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Finding Deleted Fics: A Multi-Method Guide

i feel like we are the fandom who needs this post the most any fandom has needed it ever.

all of these methods require you to know the title, author and/or link of the fic.

[disclaimer: the fic i am using as an example is not deleted, i just can't think of any other fics to use as an example right now.]

Method #1: Wayback Machine

this is my go to method that i always try first.

steps:

every fic on ao3 has a url of archiveofourown.org/[specific-numbers]. you're gonna need that url, doesn't matter if it doesn't work anymore.

eg.

2. now you're gonna go to archive.org and enter your url in the search bar.

3. something like this will come up. it probably won't be saved as many times though, just once or twice.

just click any of the links now, either the dates marked blue on the calendar or the earliest/latest date. that's it.

drawbacks:

often, a problem arises when searching for fics rated mature or explicit.

the site will have archived this page but not the actual fic. though, maybe lady luck is on your side and clicking proceed will lead you to a saved version of the actual fic. but usually not. and not all fics are saved here. in those cases, i have some more methods.

Method #2: Search Engine Cache

search engines like google and yandex often save a cached version of sites, though yandex is much more reliable than google. i'll give you a tutorial for both.

steps (yandex):

the link isn't completely necessary, just the title and author of the fic will suffice.

go to yandex.com and search for your fic by either entering the url or entering the title and author as such.

3. this will probably immediately come up.

just enter the captcha and it should let you in on the first go but there's a glitch i've encountered where you could be entering the captcha completely correct but for some reason the site still won't let you in. for that, you just have to keep trying again and again until eventually the site lets you in. might take more than 10 tries.

4. once you're in, search results will pop up. directly clicking them will only lead you to the not found page. what you're gonna do is hover over the box of the search result and you'll see 3 dots pop up on the right.

click those and a dropdown menu will appear. click the first option 'saved copy'.

and thats it! this is a much more efficient method especially for explicit or mature fics.

drawbacks:

for some reason, when i open yandex in google chrome, i can't see the 3 dots. i can in firefox though. don't really know what thats all about.

i'll show you how to do it with google too just in case yandex doesn't work.

steps (google):

in the url bar, type cache:[link of fic]. that's pretty much it. google doesn't have a lot of fics saved though so you'll probably get a 404 page.

Method #3: Reddit

there's a subreddit called r/DeletedFanfiction that can probably help you out. either search for the fic as it may have already been posted or req it and someone will probably get you a google drive link soon enough. u/throwthisaway11112 is my lord and savior.

afaik it's still up and running fine despite the reddit protest thing (which i recommend taking a minute to look into).

Method #4: Archive.org Database

okay, now you're gonna need a lot of memory on computer for this one. i'm not gonna even bother and try to explain it, i'll just link you to the original post. thank you once again to the anon who sent me this method!

Method #5: Fandom

if absolutely none of those methods work, you can still just send me an ask and maybe my followers or i will have a saved copy. same for any other fandom, i recommend asking around in popular fandom spaces, someone is bound to have it.

#deleted fics #kay talks #save #ao3 #internet archive #excuse my poor graphic designing #i wanted to add my photo thing #but this isnt a #fic rec #so i just slapped ao3 hacks on #decent imo #hope this helps someone out #ao3 hacks #how to ao3

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 5 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe! (1)- Arms Out Like An Angel

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

Chapter 1- 3.9k- Mature Rating

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

A/N- This fic will include mature themes such as smut, descriptions of internalised homophobia, drinking, mentions of unhappy marriages and more. Please consider these warnings before reading.

For clarification, Wanda and Reader are both 18 in this fic and the legal drinking age is 18.

---

Hiding a yawn behind your hand, your face expressed your boredom as Professor Harkness rambled on about the context of the novel you were covering in class, her hands moving emphatically in the air as she tried to get her never ending point across, much to your dismay. A sigh of annoyance left you when Steve raised his hand to ask a question, your gaze burning a hole into the back of his head as the teacher started to talk about another useless point, Natasha next to you chuckling at your irritation as you leaned back in your uncomfortable seat, tilting your head to her to show her your lack of interest.

"There's only ten more minutes," she whispered, trying to reassure you as your fingers impatiently drummed against the desk, the redhead amused at the way your shoulders slumped in defeat, eyes trained on the clock at every torturous second that passed by.

"More like ten years," you muttered in annoyance as you let your gaze wander across the various heads in front of you, naturally landing on the brunette's across the class from you. It was like a strange, gravitational pull as your bored eyes searched for her, observing how Wanda smiled politely at Miss Harkness, your heart unable to stop the gentle flutter the sight of her caused. Her fingers toyed with a stray strand of her hair as she intently listened, all of her attention devoted to the woman at the front of the room whilst yours remained on her, a smile threatening to lift the edges of your lips at the way her fingers soon started to spin the rings on her fingers, something she told you confidently she didn't do. You tampered down the smile as you let your thoughts drift away from the Literature lesson you were in, letting them wander towards Wanda to help the time pass, memories of your secret times together consuming your mind.

The shrill sound of a bell knocks you out of your daydreams, your eyes flickering across the room as you move to copy everyone else in packing your books up, Natasha shaking her head playfully at you and chuckling as you frantically try to catch up.

"Come on, I want to go for a smoke," she muttered as she waited for you, your stuff haphazardly shoved into your backpack as you followed her out of the classroom, your eyes briefly meeting Wanda's as she smiled at you shyly, not trying to be too obvious as you walked past her, ignoring the way warmth and affection flooded through you at the small interaction.

"I'll meet you outside, I need to grab a book from my locker," you tell Nat who doesn't wait another second for you, walking towards the exit as you make your way through the crowded hallways, barging past one or two people who were being annoyingly slow.

Eventually, you managed to get to your assigned locker, smiling to yourself at the sight of the small note shoved through the small gaps in it, your head turning to check for people before opening the crumpled paper, recognising the delicate handwriting.

Usual spot at 7? x

Folding the note up as soon as you read it, you pushed it into your pockets before grabbing your book, an excitement bubbling inside you at the idea of meeting Wanda later, an onrush of warmth flowing through you as the enticing green fill your mind, your heart skipping a beat every time you imagine that soft and gentle smile.

You tried to push down the love that enveloped your chest when thinking of Wanda but it was inevitable, you had fallen hard for her. You had to remind yourself of how the two of you were actually 'nothing', words the brunette had repeatedly said to you but you knew that couldn't be the truth, the longing look in both your eyes, the delicate moments you shared together couldn't just mean nothing. Maybe you were just just a fool in love, you weren't sure, but all you knew was that you didn't care when you were with her, the secret moments together were enough for you at the moment.

Her laughter caught your attention across the hall, your head naturally turning, lips tugging into a smile at the sound as your eyes met her enchanting green. The room was filled with others but all you could see was her, a silent conversation passing between you as you shrugged your backpack over your arm, your body already moving towards her when the sight of a tall blonde caused you to pause in your tracks, her attention switching to Vision, one of the most popular boys who clearly had a crush on her. You turned your gaze away at the sight of them, a small crack forming in your heart at the wide and bright grin that took over her face when he kissed her cheek, a small bubble of hurt building at the pit of your stomach as you brushed past more students, making your way to the exit without looking back at her, a weight tugging on your heart.

***

Bringing the cigarette to your lips, you waited nonchalantly for the brunette to turn up, your back resting against your truck that was parked behind the small store you worked at, gaze trained on the small bird that had landed on a nearby branch, it's small movements of great interest to you, your mind finding something else but the excitement of meeting Wanda to focus on. Exhaling a puff of smoke once you heard approaching footsteps, you couldn't help but smirk teasingly as you lolled your head to the side, features softening at the sight of her as she shook her head at you playfully, tutting at your actions.

"How many times do I have to tell you they're bad for you?" Her voice gentle and soft yet teasing, an infectious smile gracing her lips as she grinned up at you, leaning against your car as her fingers plucked the cigarette from your mouth.

"At least once more," you mutter as you always did, watching in amusement as she takes a brief drag of your cig before dropping it on the floor, crushing it into the ground with her shoe as her gaze expresses her disapproval of the habit before she steps closer, your arm naturally moving to rest over her shoulders. "You owe me a packet at this rate, Maximoff," you mumble playfully, looking around on the floor at the many remains of cigarettes she'd stolen from you, a soft and angelic chuckle escaping her as she leans into your body, her enchanting green focussed on the small bird from earlier.

"You should be thanking me," she teases as she tilts her head to rest on your shoulder, peering up into your eyes in that intoxicating manner, your gaze softening as you admire her natural beauty, hints of scarlet tinting her cheeks at your adoring look. "I'm saving your life," she murmurs, a hum leaving you as you turn your head away from her, not wanting to kiss her here as you knew it wasn't appropriate.

"More like killing my bank account," your tone is laced with sarcasm as you feel her hand slide into your pocket, taking the packet out of it and into hers so you couldn't use them, your head shaking at her as she thought she was being sly and sneaky.

"Mhmm, whatever," she whispers, purposely letting her accent seep into her words as she murmurs them near your ear, knowing the effect her voice had on you, a low sigh leaving you as you turn your head back to her, noticing the look in them. "Can we go to the Lake?" she asks in a hopeful voice, her green pleading you to say yes, knowing you had a massive soft spot in giving her what she wanted, one of her hands snaking under your jacket affectionately to help persuade you.

Your smile swiftly fades into a mischievous smirk at her words, knowing that most of the time when she'd ask to go to the lake it was for privacy, the serene and peaceful area completely isolated and perfect for the two of you to have some sinful moments.

"Of course," you rasp out, lowering your own voice in revenge for her earlier teasing actions, her teeth biting down on her lower lip seductively as she looks up at you, a genuine smile breaking out on her face at the enamoured look in your eyes before your gaze drifts lower to her lips, her hand slipping out of your jacket as she tilts her head up, letting her lips ghost near yours.

"Come on then, I want to watch the sunset," she whispers out, tauntingly pulling her lips away at the last moment, your body craving to press your lips to hers right now, to have her moaning into your mouth as you pushed her up against your car but you knew it wasn't the place, a small laugh leaving you at the way she enthusiastically makes her way into the passenger's seat. You shake your head whilst looking up at the sky in amazement at how wrapped around her finger you were, the sound of her pressing your horn making you laugh once more before jumping in, ready to take her to your secret spot.

***

Once the two of you arrived at the lake, you swiftly prepared your truck for the two of you to spend the rest of the evening in, the back seats being pushed down and the boot opened as you placed the blankets and pillows down, the sight before you mesmerising.

The body of water stretched a vast distance as the wind caused gentle ripples across the reflective surface, the trees surrounding the car giving you the privacy you both wanted whilst the canvas of the sky gradually grew more iridescent. The scenic view of the sunset, the symphony of colours painting the evening sky, reminded you of the woman next to you as she shuffled her way over to you on your makeshift bed, her body as close as possible to yours as you sat and watched the sun slowly descend. The vibrant colours were powerful, passionate and overwhelming, just like the emotions Wanda evoked from you but the tranquil beauty of it was reminiscent of your time with her, the two of you always sharing peaceful and soft moments just like this one.

Your comparison to her and the natural phenomenon were cut short as her hand slid across your abdomen, the delicate pressure of her hand against you drawing your gaze from the sky to her eyes that you'd argue were more alluring, the shades of green hypnotising. You noticed an expectant look in her eyes before she rested her head against your shoulder, her body cuddling closer to yours as she shared a tender embrace, your fingers reaching down to interlock with hers, letting her play with yours as she knew it was a habit of hers.

"Hm?" your tone questioning as you realised she had asked you something, the pads of her fingers tracing over the lines on your palms before moving to the back of your hand, feeling every small ridge of your knuckles and the light protrusion of your vein to keep her hands busy, the brunette always fidgeting with them.

"I asked what you were thinking about?" she whispers, keeping the tranquil atmosphere that had wrapped around the two of you, the intimacy that was brewing between you both as you relaxed against one another.

"Just how beautiful you are," you say, tone laced with charm and flattery as you offer her a playful smile, leaning your body further into hers light heartedly, your words causing her to grow shy, an accompanying blush creeping onto her face.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she huffs out, aware of the warmth in her cheeks and the heat going straight to her core at the way your eyes flicker between her shy stare and mouth, the way your pupils dilate as she subconsciously wets her lips.

"Is that so?" you murmur out, smiling at the way she moves her body to lay down in your truck, her hand fisted in your jacket as she pulls you down on top of her, peering up at you with want in her eyes, legs spreading a little to welcome your body. Bracing yourself above her, you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear softly, knee sliding between her legs and pressing against her core causing a soft moan to escape her, the sound setting your body a light, arousal clouding your mind. "Even if I tell you how enchanting your eyes are? How your lips are just so... irresistible?"

Her fingers thread through your hair as she pulls you closer to her, your lips brushing over hers, smiling against her lips at the timid expression etched on her face, the obvious blush painting her cheeks.

Before you can say anymore, she tilts her head up to kiss you, the world around you fading away as you focused on the intoxicating feels of her body pressed against yours, the way her back arches, pressing her chest further against yours, legs wrapping around your middle to pull you closer as she gasps into the kiss at the way her hips grind against your knee.

Passion is poured into the kiss as you groan into her mouth at how her fingers tighten their grip in your hair, one of your hands moving to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss as you slide your tongue into her mouth, dominating the kiss effortlessly as she gives you control. As soon as one of you part from the kiss, lips lingering open against one another, the other crashes them back together, addicted to one another as she moans into your mouth, the noise eagerly being swallowed by you as lust takes over, desire consuming you both.

"Fuck," she groans sinfully, accent adding a rasp to her words as you throb around nothing, when you bite her lower lips softly, tongue soothing over the dull pain before you steal another passionate kiss before letting your mouth trail along her jaw, encouraging her to loll her head back so you could pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of her neck.

"Do you have any idea of how truly beautiful you are?" you whisper, honesty and love lacing your words as you peer up into her darkened eyes, one of your hands moving to the hem of her shirt, slowly creeping under it as your fingers drift across the soft skin of her stomach, feeling the warmth her body radiated.

Your words strike a cord in Wanda as the sheer adoration dripping from your voice, the enamoured look in your eyes is too much, the emotion on show overwhelming as love wraps around her heart, the action suffocating as her mind fights what she wants to what she must have, her thoughts tangling together. She loved the way you made her feel, she loved the way your words sent a shiver down her spine, sent warmth pooling between her thighs but she hated how it was you who made her feel this way. She couldn't feel this way, not towards you. She wanted, no, wants you to make her feel this way but she shouldn't. How could she want something like this? It wasn't right... It wasn't how things were meant to go, this wasn't her.

She let out a shaky breath in response to your low voice, your lips stilling against her throat at the way her body language shifted, concern immediately filling you as you pulled back, hand sliding out from under her shirt to not make her uncomfortable as she avoided your gaze, trying to unravel her messy thoughts. This was supposed to be casual. Nothing more.

"Hey," you coo in a delicate voice, trying to get her attention as she blinks back the few tears threatening to spill in her eyes, the sight of her causing something to stir in your gut, a saddened expression taking over your face as you attempt to comfort her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood anymore," she mumbles, wiping her eyes and moving to sit upright as you sit next to her, confused as to what you did wrong to upset her, a small pang of guilt washing through you.

"Hey," you softly coo once more, gaining her attention as her gaze meets your tender one, "You never have to apologise for wanting to stop, you don't owe me anything." Your gaze expresses how serious your words were, never wanting her to feel pressured, a small smile tugging at her lips at how caring you were, another wave of confusion crashing through her at the butterflies that swarmed her stomach when you kissed her forehead comfortingly. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you had to," you whisper, trying to hide the pain in your voice as you watched her get comfortable next to you, her head leaning on your shoulder despite as her mind screaming at her to get as far away as possible, her heart's craving for you overpowering her. "I'm sorry if I upset you," you murmur, offering your hand out in case she wanted to fiddle with it, your gaze locked on the spectacle happening around you, the sight almost meaningless as you waited for her to relax against you.

"It wasn't you, I promise," she whispers, easing the worry swarming through you, her hand naturally reaching down to interlock with yours, the comfort you provided helping her relax as she tried to push down the variety of emotions gnawing away at her, not ready to confront them. "It's just me I-" she cuts herself off with a defeated sigh, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand soothingly as you let her talk, having a small idea of what she might be referring to. "Can we talk about something else? I don't want to talk about it," she mumbles, her free hand reaching down to pull the blanket over you both as you settle on watching the sunset, your arm moving to rest over her shoulders so she could sink further into your body.

"Is it a bad time to offer you a cig?" you whisper playfully, trying to change the conversation as she had asked, a small huff leaving her as she lightly slaps your arm, a disapproving and berating look in her eyes as she looks at you, a smile taking over your lips as the anxious expression from earlier is replaced, a smile stretching across her lips when she realises what you're doing. "I'll take that as a no," you grumble, dramatically rubbing the spot she lightly tapped making her roll her eyes at your theatrical actions, "Can I at least have my packet back you stole?"

"What packet?" she innocently murmurs out as she avoids your gaze, knowing you'd see straight through her lie, the despondent feeling dissipating into joy as you tease her, your head leaning against the top of hers.

"This one," your tone is cocky as you had slipped the packet out of her pockets, her lips tugging up into a shy smile as she had been caught, a chuckle leaving you at her reaction. "So you're a thief and a liar," you say tauntingly, tossing the packet to the side so you could hold her hand again, the feeling of her fingers playing with yours making your heart flutter, warmth stirring in your chest as you glanced at her.

"I'm not a liar," she says defiantly, various shades of blazing orange and red reflecting in her mesmerising green as you smirk mischievously, knowing how to catch her out.

"I don't play with my rings when I'm bored," you mimic, purposely using a higher pitch voice as you repeat her words from another secret meeting, a giggle leaving her at your poor attempt at her voice. Her hand raises to cover her mouth at the adorable noise, her nose scrunching in the way you loved, a genuine laugh leaving her as she rolls her eyes at you once more.

"Were you staring at me in class again?" she teases back, turning around in your arms so that she is looking at you, her eyes exploring your features as she takes in your beauty, the casual smirk planted on your lips making her own lips curl up into a smile.

"I wasn't staring, I was admiring," you counter, earning another chuckle, "But that's not what we're talking about. I saw you-" Her finger places itself against your lips to silence you, her teeth on show as she grins at you, knowing you were right but not wanting to admit it.

"Why don't we sit in silence?" she teases, your eyes rolling this time as she places a soft kiss to your cheek before sitting next to you again, curling up against you as she seeks the warmth your body always provided, wanting to simply be with you.

A comfortable silence takes over you two as you watch the sky darken, no words needed to understand each other as a gentle touch was enough, the vibrant hues of red and oranges bleeding into pinks and purples before fading into deep blues and greys, the subtle transformation elegant as you savour the moment together, part of you hoping the sun would never have to set as you wanted to stay there with her forever.

Only once the two of you could see stars shining bright and the moon illuminating the sky did you decide to leave, the hours spent together thoroughly enjoyed as you reluctantly took her home, wanting your time together to never end.

Despite the late hour, the two of you were still wide awake, the empty country roads causing you to have the radio on full volume, your gaze inevitably drifting to your side at the sight of the brunette singing along to whatever song was blaring out of your speakers. Her enchanting stare caught yours as she tilted her head to the beat of the music, joy, youth and affection engraved on both of your faces as you listened to her sing, the memory slowly engraving its way into your mind as she unbuckled her seatbelt, her finger pressing the button to open your sunroof.

"Be careful, Maximoff," you shouted over the music, her body standing in your car as her body fit through the gap, your arm wrapping around her thigh to keep her steady whilst her arms stretched out the car like an angel as you sped through the tunnel, adrenaline and excitement coursing through you both as you simply enjoyed being young and carefree.

Her laughter and singing filled your ears as she sang her heart out in the empty tunnel, the sound of the engine, music and her angelic voice echoing around you as you smiled to yourself, unable to stop the love you felt.

You knew in that moment that any doubts you had about calling it off swiftly left your mind, any worries about her never wanting to call it love unimportant as the overwhelming sense of happiness that wrapped around you in that moment was worth everything.

Being with her was worth anything.

#wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #wanda x reader #eventual smut #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #friends to lovers #lesbian #internalized homophobia #good luck babe #secret affair #secret love #wlw

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