#cricket sounds from the crowd

[girlscapitalism]

DOJA CAT rapping along to ‘PLAN B’ @ the 2022 BBMAs

#doja cat #megan thee stallion #wonderfulwoc #dailywoc #dojacatsource #dojasource #usermusic #popularcultures #femalestunning #*mg #*m #cricket sounds from the crowd #500 #1k #5k #10k

[oizysian]

Praise Be, The Scarlet Witch | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Warnings: non-con, dubcon, magical penises, mind control, worship and other cultist activities. Word Count: 2,500+ Genre: smut Summary: Y/N knows something is going on in the house next door. Tonight, she’ll find out exactly what.

• Kinktober Masterlist •

I could’ve sworn I heard people chanting.

I sat up in my bed, the sheet covering me slipping down my torso as I shifted to look out the half opened window. A slight breeze and the chirping of crickets came through, but I could’ve sworn I heard chanting.

I strained my ears and I heard it again. Soft, like a mumble; incoherent but constant.

I threw the sheet off my body and rushed to the window, trying my hardest to tell where the sound was coming from. I looked at the house across from mine, a dim light in one of the windows, but no other signs of life.

It was the Maximoff house. The parents of the neighborhood always whispered about the girl who lived in that house. They say she killed her parents, her brother, and almost killed herself. But, those were just some silly rumors.

I was dying to get a look at that Maximoff girl, as she should’ve been about my age and I was curious about her. There was always something weird about the house - creepy sounds, never any lights on, dogs frequently barked when they passed it, like they sensed something lurking inside.

I made my way to my closet, slipping on my sneakers and sneaking out of my room, quietly making my way downstairs and outside to investigate. I closed the door behind me and snuck over to the neighboring house, the soft chanting getting louder.

I walked around the house and found a door leading to the basement of the house. The padlock was broken and left haphazardly next to it. I crept l closer to the door, pressing myself against it to listen. The chanting was definitely coming from inside there.

I opened the door, the creaking startling me slightly as I slipped inside, walking down the long, dark hallway that led to god knows what. The chanting was louder now, and I could finally understand what they were saying.

Praise be, the Scarlet Witch. Praise be, the Scarlet Witch.

What the hell did that mean? I continued to make my way towards the sound, finally coming to another door that would surely lead to me finding some answers.

I grabbed hold of the knob, my hand shaking as I turned it slowly. I pulled open the door, peeking one eye in to see what awaited me.

People on their knees, heads bowed in front of a statue of a beautiful woman, and in front of that statue was the woman it was molded after. It must’ve been the Maximoff girl! She was hovering, her legs crossed, eyes closed, seemingly meditating as the group in front of her continued to chant.

She was dressed in dark clothing, dark hair, with rings adorning her fingers. She was, admittedly, very beautiful and I couldn’t stop staring at her. Something drew me to her, something I was currently fighting inside myself.

“Y/N.”

I could hear my name being said by the sweetest voice, but nobody was looking at me, nobody was speaking to me. They were still chanting and she still had her eyes closed.

“Y/N. Come to me.”

A shiver crept down my spine at the sound of her voice and I realized that the Maximoff girl was now looking at me, eyes blood red.

I was startled, suddenly very terrified at what I had gotten myself into. This was just a dream, right? I was just having a nightmare.

“Come.”

Red wisps wrapped around me and pulled me through the door. I struggled to no avail as I hovered over the praying people and went straight over to her. Face to face, she looked angelic, ethereal even, but I was scared. Was this the work of the devil?

“No devil. No demons. Just me.”

“Who are you?” I yelped, the wisps tightening around me ever so slightly.

“They call me the Scarlet Witch.” She gestured to the crowd with her hand.

All of them stayed bowed before her, not even registering that I was in the room with them.

“What are you?” My voice was small and afraid.

“I am chaos.”

Her voice echoed in my head and I let out a shriek, realizing that her lips hadn’t moved at all. This was beyond cult shit, this was on a whole different level of witchcraft.

She raised her hand towards me and I flinched, struggling to shy away from her. Red mist poured from her fingertips and surrounded me. I could feel it entering me from my nose, my mouth, my eyes …

Untold pleasures flooded my senses, and I could feel myself responding to her mind tricks. Her magic was touching every inch of my mind, my body, my soul. The pleasure was otherworldly, nothing I had ever felt before. She was gonna make me cum …

“Yes, give in to me.”

“W-what?” I moaned, still trying fruitlessly to fight her off.

“Give yourself to me. Give in.”

I let out a pathetic whimper as my body hummed with her power. I felt so good, so strong, so throughly fucked. My mind and my body had finally invited her in, and she wasted no time in exploring me.

“Yes,” she hissed softly, beckoning me closer with her stained fingers. “You’re mine.”

“I-I’m …” I shook my head, trying to get my senses back under my own control.

Vibrations started up between my thighs and I squeezed them together the best I could. She smiled at me, her eyes a deeper red than before.

“Mine.” She practically growled at me, her magic intensifying at her singular word.

“Oh god,” I moaned, my head falling back and my hips jerking towards nothing as the magic coursed through me. “I’m yours, I’m yours! J-just … just …”

“Just what?” Her voice was laced with fake sweetness and I felt myself clenching around nothing at the sound.

“Just let me -!”

She tilted her head at me and I could see us in my mind, in different positions, different situations, her glorious body being worshiped by me day and night, our pleasure becoming too much for my mind to handle.

For a split second I couldn’t help but wonder if this is how everyone in the room got themselves into this situation.

She flicked her fingers at me again and the images intensified, the pleasure nearly becoming real. I could almost feel her tongue on my clit, her beautifully jeweled dagger caressing my breasts as she fucked me roughly, her hands all over my body, her thick cock touching every inch of my insides, fucking me in every hole.

“Oh, fucking god!” I cried weakly, my eyes rolling back into my head as pleasure overtook me.

But as I felt myself reaching release, it stopped. I gasped, panting softly as I regained my senses. She was no longer inside my head. What was she? How could she possibly do this?

She leaned towards me and pressed her lips to mine and I let her kiss me, not even bothering to struggle any longer. She was too strong to fight. She had the ability to fuck me without ever touching me - fucking my body and mind senseless.

“You’re learning quickly.” She stood from her sitting position, reaching for the buttons of my nightshirt. “I love a pet that catches on quickly.”

I shook my head, watching helplessly as she undid my shirt, letting it fall from my trembling shoulders in a heap on the ground.

She stared at me for a moment, taking in the sight of my breasts as if it would be the last thing she ever saw.

My chest heaved as she slipped her delicate fingers in the hem of my shorts, playing with the fabric teasingly.

“I can’t wait to play with you and your mind. You’re so strong willed.” She brought her face to my neck and inhaled my scent, sending shivers down my spine. “I can’t wait to break you.”

My legs trembled as she slid the garment down, letting them fall next to my discarded shirt.

She trailed her fingers down, caressing my sex, covered only by the thin fabric of my panties. I twitched, my hips jerking towards her as she ran her strong fingers along my slit.

“So sensitive. So receptive.”

“M-miss …” I cried, my whole body shaking with need.

She smiled to herself as she circled my clit with gentle touches.

“You’ll give in to me. Just as they all did.”

Tears slid down my cheeks as I realized she was referring to the crowd that was still praying before her. I didn’t want to become one of them!

“You’ll be more than what they are.” She whispered against my lips, kissing me softly. “You’ll be my toy. My most obedient follower.”

“I don’t …”

“It doesn’t matter what you want.” Her green eyes went red again and I could feel her creeping around inside my mind again. “Look.”

I met her gaze, realizing that she had released me and I had been standing before her out of my own free will. I tried to move my feet, move my body, but a little voice inside my head told me I really didn’t want to leave her. It was her voice.

“I’m inside you. You belong to me.”

She wrapped her hand around my neck and pulled me close to her, her grip tightening ever so slightly, making the ache between my legs increase.

“You’ll never leave. Nobody ever does.”

I cried then, realizing that this was it. I had gotten myself into this and there was no getting out.

“You didn’t do anything.” She laughed. “I brought you here. Do you think anyone else in Westview can hear anything that happens here? That they can find the entrance so easily?” She shook her head. “No. I control this town. I decide who becomes my next victim.”

“Why me?” I sobbed.

“You were fascinated with me, with the stories about me. Don’t you think I could hear your thoughts - so loud, thinking about me all the time.”

“I didn’t know -!”

“And now you do.” She released me and I took a deep breath. “Kneel.”

Without a second thought I was on my knees, looking up at the beautiful monster in front of me.

“I’ve got a welcoming gift for my new pet.” She said with a smile.

She lifted up the skirt she was wearing and tugged her underwear down, kicking them to the side once they reached her boots. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes and her skirt tented up.

My eyes widened as a glowing red cock materialized between her legs. It was thick, long, and dripping from the tip. She brought her hand down and stroked it, her skirt bunching up around her hips as she bit her lip and brought the dick to my waiting mouth.

Eagerly, I took her length in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down on her. Her moans were intoxicating and I couldn’t help but want to pleasure her more just from the sound.

“That’s right,” she ran her fingers through my hair, guiding me slightly. “You want this as much as I do.”

I looked up at her and nodded, her pulsing cock still in my mouth as I brought my hands up to stroke the base.

“You’re good at this.” She breathed, a slight look of jealousy in her eyes as she stared down at me.

I continued to meet her gaze, my eyes innocent as I practically choked on her length.

“Choke on it.” She giggled, guiding my head down to take more of her into my mouth. “Next time I’ll make it even bigger so I can train that pretty mouth of yours.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as she groaned softly, cum spurting into my mouth and down my throat as she came. Her hips jerked and her legs twitched as she finished. She threw her head back and continued to pump herself into my eager mouth, riding out her high completely.

“Let’s see what that pussy of yours can do now.” She breathed and a flash of panic spread throughout my body before instantly disappearing. “Lay down.”

I laid back on the marble of the floor, the crowd now able to see me if they lifted their heads ever so slightly.

“Do you want them to watch?” She questioned and I shook my head, blood rushing to my cheeks in shame and embarrassment. “Let them see what a good girl you are for me.”

They all raised their heads as if on command, their chanting stopping as they watched my trembling body. She got on top of me, smiling devilishly as she positioned herself between my legs.

“As your leader, you need to give yourself to me; mind, body and soul.” She spoke softly, stroking the cock against my aching entrance.

She slipped herself inside of me without much resistance at all. She let out a little mewl as she started to fuck me, her hips pressed firmly against mine as she got herself used to the feel of me.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” She groaned, resting her forehead against mine. “I’m not gonna last long.”

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and my legs around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to me. She was so deep inside me I couldn’t feel anything else. I let out a whine as she thrust up against me, fucking me hard and deep. Her lips found my neck and she sucked and bit along my shoulder, claiming me.

I dug my nails into her shoulders, holding onto her for dear life as she fucked me mercilessly. I was seeing stars as she hit the deepest parts of me.

“Unh, I’m fucking gonna …” and before she could finish her sentence she let out a low moan, cumming inside of me.

Her cum leaked out of me as she continued to pump herself inside of me. I held her close, making sure she fucked all of her cum back into me.

“I’m gonna breed you.” She growled into my ear and I shuddered. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you every night.”

“Please,” I whimpered against her neck. “I’m yours.”

“That’s right,” she whispered back, pressing open mouthed kisses along my jaw. “You’re my precious pet, aren’t you?”

I nodded contently and I could feel our pussies touching as her magical cock disappeared. She rutted up against me and my hips rolled against hers with a hungry fervor. She moaned into my ear as she rubbed her clit against my own, getting us both off.

“This pussy … I’ll never get enough of this pussy.” She grunted and I nearly came from her words alone.

She bit down into my neck roughly and that’s all it took for me to cum all over her, my throbbing, aching cunt finally reaching release after being used the whole night.

She came right along with me, moaning my name softly as our juices dripped down our thighs and we had made a mess of her altar.

“They know now what you are.” She panted against my neck before turning to face the crowd that watched us with blank expressions on their faces. “You now know what you are.”

She returned her attention to me and turned my head slightly so she could look at the mark that appeared behind my ear; it looked like a crown in the shape of an ‘M’.

“You are mine.”

•

@natashaswife4125, @poison-blackheart, @aemilia19, @claxre-bear, @dorabledewdroop

#oizysian’s kinktober #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff smut #kinktober #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff

[rahhhbananas]

✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. spider-plush, miles, gwen, pavitr, hobie

summary. 5 idiots in a court room

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, foul language

a/n. A lot of ppl liked my last post, so here’s part 2!

“Order in the court!”

The judge, or Gwen, yelled. Banging the wooden mallet on the bench. She cleared her throat before looking at the crowd. Pavitr, Y/n, and Spider-Plush on one side, while Hobie and Miles on the opposing “You can all probably guess why you are all here…?” The chirps of a cricket bounced off the empty courtroom walls, “Okay, we are gathered here for the trial of Spider-Plush, or whatever, I have no idea how court works.” Gwen mumbled, fidgeting with her papers. Hobie nodded, and Miles coughed awkwardly, “Speaking nothin but the truth…” Hobie whispered, with a slight smirk. Gwen snapped her neck in his direction, sending the punk a playful glare. The blonde sighed, “Anyways..”

“HE’S GUILTY, ARREST HIM!”

“Arrest?”

“First off, don’t interrupt the judge. Second, we don’t have the budget for handcuffs that’d keep Hobie contained.”

“Got that right.”

“Y/n no one saw this ‘criminal act’ but you. We don’t even have enough evidence for a court case.”

“I AM A WITNESS!”

“Ok…Pav, maybe we should stay outta this one.”

“HE IS MY CLIENT, I WILL NOT STAY OUT OF THIS”

“YEAH MORALES, STOP HARASSING MY LAWYER”

“HARRASING??”

“wow.”

“We should all calm down.”

“DON’T TELL ME TO CLAM DOWN!”

“YEAH, DON’T TELL MY CLIENT TO CALM DOWN!”

“Come on Pav, we’re leaving!”

Y/n rose from his seat, stopping near Miles. His gaze fixed upon his boyfriend, a stern expression etched across his face. "Morales," Y/n's voice carried a note of seriousness. Miles met his gaze, a mix of apprehension and curiosity in his eyes. "L/n," Miles responded, mirroring the intensity of Y/n's stare. “The child support?” His face contorted into fear “I….forgot?” It sounded more like a question than an answer, but that didn’t stop Y/n from expressing his displeasure. But, his demeanor quickly changed.

“Y’all hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat”

“Sure! Being a heartless lawyer is hard work”

“As long as I’m not payin”

“When have you ever paid?”

“I don’t believe in givin those big companies money, it’s all goin to waste anyways”

“Ugh, don’t get him started on another rant!”

“Like it or not, you’re gonna need it”

“Yeah, cause beating the shit outta cops is gonna get me into college.”

“It’s gonna get you somewhere alright…”

“Yeah, jail!”

“Alrigh’ stop this slander!”

As the group walked away, their voices gradually fading into the distance, Miles stood there, a smile playing on his lips. He couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as he watched his friends. But the fleeting moment of solitude was soon interrupted by a surge of excitement, urging Miles to catch up with the others. Without hesitation, he dashed forward, his footsteps quickening as he eagerly joined his friends.

“So, what we eatin?”

“Whatever Y/n wants”

“I’m bringing Margo next time, y’all bitches are lame.”

“HEY!”

“Woah. Couldn’t even wait until we got off government grounds to start cursing?”

“I taught ‘em well.”

“Except you Pav, best lawyer man!”

“Yay! :D”

#male reader #cute #gay #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse x reader #miles molares #across the spiderverse x male reader #black male reader #marvel x male reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x male reader #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prahakar x male reader #spider plush #x male reader #atsv x male reader

[spdrvyn]

i'll be lonely with you — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: with the passage of time and whispers from your acquaintances at the spider society HQ, you've found out that your boss has a habit of sneaking out of his office during the dead hours of night to eat dinner. completely alone.

NOTES: new formatting for fics !!! do you guys like it? :3 i decided to include summaries that way it would be easier for people to understand the general jist of the plot without me spewing nonsense in the notes. anyways enjoy !!!!! thanks for the support on my recent works as well ^_^

You didn't consider yourself the most introverted person.

Even when it came to hundreds of Spider-people, you tried to get to know who you could and become acquainted with as many of them as possible. How could you not?

However, there were few that you knew on a more personal level. People that you'd keep close to your side whenever you visited headquarters. People that you'd enjoy having an exchange of gossip with during lunch in the bustling cafeteria.

Miguel O'Hara wasn't exactly one of those people.

It's not like you didn't want to develop something more than a boss-coworker relationship. Though, conversations with him were always difficult, to the say the least. Most of the time, he's talking about work and anything that goes past that boundary goes unspoken.

Quite literally. You've forgotten the amount of times that you've built up the courage to mention anything about your other (not deceased) relatives or your friends and the amount of times that the room was filled with a silence so awkward that crickets are on the same volume as missile launchers.

Though, you didn't want to lose hope. You sort of understood where he was coming from. People go through grief and mourning in different ways, Miguel's was probably just isolation and a complete avoidance of discussions of personal life.

He was a leader. A good one. A trait of a good leader is to connect with their subordinates, establish relationships. So it really made you think.

How messed up was he that he missed that one quality?

"Hey. Your food's getting cold." There it goes, the sound of your train of thought leaving the station. Sometimes, you were grateful for Jess being there for you. She could snap you back to reality you like nobody else could.

You mutter an apology before stabbing your salad with your fork and taking a bite, Jess rests her head on her palm. Raising a brow at you, "So, did you want to eat lunch with me for fun or are you just using me to get info about Miguel? Again?"

Nervously, you shake your head. "It's nothing like that!" She leans in a little more, waving her other free hand in the air in a circular motion.

"...But if you have anything that you'd like to share then I'm not going to refuse entirely—"

"Oh my god. Fine, fine. What do you want to know?"

With that question, it felt like your mind blanked. You fidgeted with your fork, twirling a leaf of your salad against the plate as you pondered on what question to ask.

Jess responds with a deep sigh, "If you're trying to find a way to talk to him more, he doesn't leave that office of his much unless it's for work. He's in there most of time. Although..."

"Although?"

"Although, I've seen him come here normally somewhere around midnight to get a very late dinner alone. The place is less crowded, most are just in their own universe or sleeping or working."

Your face falls a little upon hearing that. "So I can only catch a non-serious conversation with him... in the middle of the night?"

"Exactly. Besides, there's a good chance he's going to just— continue talking about work with you whether he's in his office or not. You know that, right?"

You drop your utensil in defeat, burying your face shamefully in your hands. "I know..."

You quickly wrap up your lunch with Jess, as she shares bits and pieces about him. You had really wondered how she was able to learn all of these things about him anyway but before you had the opportunity to ask her, she told you to not.

Respecting her wishes, you keep your mouth shut. Respecting her even further, you decide to pack up both of your plates and wave her a goodbye before picking up those thoughts that you were left a while ago.

Admittedly, you didn't know why you were so persistent for something like this, for someone like him.

Determination was a strength of yours but that didn't mean that you didn't know where your limits rested and you would back off when you needed to.

There was just something. A swirling feeling in your gut that was telling you to keep going.

That it would be worth it.

So, you follow everything that Jess told you. Around midnight, he'd be alone, in the cafeteria, and looking for an empanada to snack on before heading back into his office. A very small fraction of his time left for personal conversation if you tried hard enough!

This most likely wasn't a good idea. You didn't sleep at all through the day but the thrill kept you alive and thriving. You confidently stride up to the counters of the cafeteria, picking out a small bag of chips for yourself and the last empanada for your soon-to-be snack companion.

Now, you wait.

You surveyed your surroundings and as you were doing that, you realize why he particularly emerges during these kinds of hours to eat. There was a significantly less amount of people.

Whenever you came here during the day, it was a miracle to be able to find completely empty seats. At times, you were forced to sit with a group of people.

You weren't entirely ungrateful for that though, you've made a lot of friends that way. Sure, it was awkward at first but the more you were forced to interact with people that way, the more you adapted to making small talk.

Even then, there were a lot of tables that were taken here save for one completely empty one at the far end.

Then, you finally see that navy and red suit.

Deciding to observe him just a little bit more, you watch him curse under his breath seeing the display case for the empanadas empty. Before he walks away any further, you tap him on the shoulder.

His mask was on, his eyes widen a little bit before you hand him the small box. "I saved the last one for you."

With a soft huff, you see the muscles in his shoulders and back grow loose once more, he hestitantly takes the container from your hands. Looking at it then looking back at you, "Thanks."

You two share a few seconds of awkward silence, you felt a little exposed. You decided to unmask for this because you wanted him to feel more comfortable talking to you rather than who you were as a Spider-person yet there's still that same awkwardness in the air.

Clearly without nothing to do and no idea on how to makem something better out of this, Miguel's about to walk off before you stop him once more.

"W— wait," A little piece of yourself dies inside as you hear yourself stutter but nevertheless, you keep going. "Uh, there aren't any other spots so is it alright if I sit you? I don't know any of the people here."

The way that you see the eyes through his masks narrow ever so slightly once the question escapes your throat makes your heart quiver like crazy.

You wanted to get to know him but damn, if you said that he didn't scare you sometimes then you would be lying.

You cry on the inside with sweet victory as he says...

"Fine."

That was it. That was all you got but you gladly take it! You have to catch up to him though because once you're done mentally celebrating, he's already a little bit far from you.

You try your hardest to keep your head straight but you can't help but look up and spare him one glance, the fact that you even had to look up at him really only emphasized your height difference with him.

Another factor that made you just a little bit more intimidated by him, his physique. You considered yourself to be of average height, you weren't the tallest person in the room but you were never the shortest as well. Just average.

The way he practically towered over you, his hand nearly being the size of your head. It made you feel something.

The moment that both of you have a seat, you take your opportunity.

"So, is there anything that you plan on doing after this?"

You get a little distracted once his mask comes off, he raises an eyebrow at you, crimson eyes that feel like they're looking straight into your soul. Though, side-tracked as he bites into the dough and meaty goodness of his empanada, with a shrug— he replies,

"Not really. Unless there's an anomaly I haven't heard of yet then I have no plans. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Was just curious is all." Why was this so hard?!

The conversation goes as what you expected. You'd ask a question every moment or so and he'd give you a short response before going back to his food. He wouldn't ask you anything back, wouldn't add any 'unnecessary' comments. Just bask in the silence.

You simply couldn't take it anymore, you didn't know how to express your interest in him without asking him more questions about himself which he seems to avoid trying to answer.

You couldn't ask him about his hobbies because he'll most likely say that he's too busy working to actually spend time gaining and branching out to different interests.

Dejectedly, you sigh. "I'm sorry for imposing— on your alone time, I mean." It was like everything that you wanted to say just kept spilling out of your mouth.

"I didn't want to eat with you at this hour because I pity you or— or I found you lonely or whatever. I just thought that whenever you weren't talking about work, we'd be able to get along."

You stand up from your seat, eyes mindlessly darting arounf the labels of the bag of 'Spider-O's' in your clutches.

"I'll, uhm, let you eat in peace now. Once again, I'm—"

"Wait."

Which ever brain cells died from that interaction certainly reignited now. "Sit back down," It comes off an order. An order you certainly obey.

"I wouldn't have actually said yes to you if I didn't want to talk." He starts. "I know a lot of people but it's not in the same way that you do. I know their names, their faces, their canon events. You know their feelings, their mindscapes, and their troubles—"

"—And those are the exact kinds of things that I can't comprehend most of the time. We understand people differently, is what I'm saying. I still have no idea why exactly you sought out me of all people but I will... try to gain this new perspective of things."

You want to tamp down the smile that creeps up on your lips as you hear those words but you can't. What he said, it all made sense now. You couldn't see the full picture still, but you were willing to find it—

"I understand. It's fine."

"So? Do you have plans after this?"

Together.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #romance #kind of #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #jessica drew #jess drew #spiderwoman #made this one extra sappy for u guys #miguel can be #so hard to write sometimes #hope i did him justice here

[odessa-2]

Titbits and analysis 🖖

As promised, some more titbits from the Con yesterday in Melbourne as well as my interpretations. Prior to attending yesterday, I told myself to keep an open mind and attempt to leave any biases behind (even after having seen the funeral pics). Clean slate. To try and view Sam, the event, questions, and subsequent behaviours objectively.

I'm the sort of person who feels energy and is affected by it and in some ways governed by it. The energy of people, both individually and collectively. The energy of a group. I tend to couple this with objective analysis, which forms the basis of my conclusions about people and situations.

I applied this method yesterday in attempting to understand and view Sam, the OL money 💰 machine and everything else. I also just wanted to go there and bask in the audience and enjoy myself....and....I did like it Jamie.

So first thing I noticed off the cuff was how experienced Sam was in handling questions, and the women, and tailoring his behaviour to suit their desires. He was charming, charismatic, approachable, a skilled professional. I saw the veneer. I felt the veneer. I also saw and felt that he is a pretty decent bloke under that veneer. A man with a solid work ethic, who is mild mannered and working with purpose in his life.

I observed that his handler or Convention agent or whatever he is, Steve, was in full control. He managed Sam's performance in a sense. He asked the questions and even set the directions for some answers. Sam is controlled. I didn't like Steve. I didn't get the best vibe off him. Infact, I got a bad vibe off him. I observed that everything was a performance. Scripted to a large degree. The Single Sam narrative was pushed by Steve. Hard. It was a performance. That much was clear to me.

So Sam chose to mention that he was in Austria skiing 2 weeks ago....blah blah...something about singing a Ronan Keating song. So the script tells everyone nice and early that he is NOT with Caitriona ✅️

Later on in the panel, he mentioned that he "was at the theatre in London the week earlier" watching a play. Huh? Getting his timeline confused? Interesting titbit, I thought. Who would he go to the theatre with whilst in London? Who else likes to go to the theatre? Who have we seen him go to the theatre with before? Ding ding ding!!

One of the first things he spoke about (umprompted) and imo was part of his speaking program, was that Caitriona is back home in Scotland doing prep work and will be directing this season. He said that he spoke to her recently and that she is cold and miserable back home. No one seemed to give a shit. The women were there for their Jamie. Sam read the crowd. He understood.

Sam tried to bring Cait into the conversation again saying something like "Where's Claire?....Caitriona isn't here". Again crickets from the audience.

He said that he auditioned with a lot of Claire's, but they couldn't find the right fit and that nobody was as brilliant as Caitriona.

It sounded like he genuinely missed her.

He spoke of his audition with Cait, saying they were very physical and were almost wrestling each other. He said he was sweating all over her and that his sweat was on her. The crowd still only wanted to hear about their Jamie. I think Sam relished in being cheeky in saying that she wore his sweat that day.

Someone asked about "how do you kiss and make out with a costar and then just carry-on. Isn't it awkward"? Sam responded generally initially, saying that there's lots of checking in with the person and apologising afterwards (in a joking fashion). Then that prompted him to start talking about Cait saying that he has also "snotted" all over Cait and exchanged many body fluids with her (in an acting context presumably)and that there's nothing really left to do together that they haven't already done. I was like "whoooaa wtf Sam?". Shooketh that he said that really. The silence from the crowd was palpable. They really didn't want to hear about Cait and Sam and their shared bodily fluids whilst 'acting'. He is THEIR fantasy man. Not Caitriona's. Silence from the audience. Sam already knew that the crowd were Sam onlies but he loved telling this story. Relished in it imo. He loved the double entendre. It was an unrehearsed, unscripted conversation as it resulted from an audience question. I concluded it was an act of defiance on his behalf. That's what it felt like to me.

Steve the convention agent guy, was always bringing it back to Single Sam. "I worry how are you going to get a date" said Steve. With Sam understanding the prompt ...."I worry too" says Sam. Bachelor narrative secured ✅️

Steve spruked the Bachelor narrative again to Sam's thirsty and adoring fans....."Sam you remind me of that old show where everyone has to guess which bachelor is going to come out of the mystery door". And that's when I knew with 100 percent certainty that the bachelor talk was a ruse. It was so contrived and performative. I smiled to myself. The women in the crowd were eating it up.

Another thing that stood out to me was when Sam was searching for the right terminology when talking about Cait. "My......co star" huge pause.

"I love you Claire" is the line he randomly chose to say when explaining his acting.

When asked how he has time to foster friendships and spend time with his family he talked around it. Avoided the question and kept it about his friendships saying that they are strong friendships that endure. He diverged and started talking about how he still has his core friendships that he had when he was bunking and sharing an apartment/house with them in London when he was younger. The veneer was up. Inpenetrable.

At another point in the panel Sam asked "How many Sheila's are there here"? LOL. I found that amusing.

Now this next part captured my attention the most. It had a weird feeling (energy) around it . Sam gave off a weird energy. Almost hostile. Again that's just what I felt.

Someome from the audience named Toni with an "I" was selected to ask a question. I can't remember what the question was but Sam made a really big deal about her being named Toni. "There's always a Tony have you noticed"? Why is there always a Tony"? He said. He didn't want to drop it. He placed a little too much emphasis on it. I was laughing silently but Sam's double entendre didn't go unnoticed by me. Everyone else was clueless or at least that's how it appeared to me. Was that an Easter egg dropped by Sammy?

Asked about what does he do for self care, he seemed to struggle answering that too. He talked in circles about his way points hike and how he's learning how to live in the moment. There's that wall again.

There were many other things discussed of course but I thought I'd focus on the things that shed light on his situation and that resonated with me.

So my closing Analysis? Sam is controlled. He peforms. He caters. He's intelligent and in tune with people and aims to please but is private. Sunday just reaffirmed and solidified my beliefs. Caitriona snatched up that hard working gem of a man quick smart!

#hublander #odessa-2 #melbourne #sam heughan

[pawnshopbleus]

Miller's Girl - Part One

Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!College Student!Reader Very Loosely based off of the new movie, Miller's Girl, starring Jenna Ortega and Martin Freeman

Summary - Your landlord decides to raise the rent in your studio apartment the day you are fired from your job. In need of money, you sign up for a babysitting service your friend suggested. You didn’t expect to get an offer so quickly, and you also didn’t expect to come from your professor.

Series contains - cursing, mature language, teacher x student relationship, age gap, smut, fluff, angst, non beta read chapters and everything else I forgot to mention

College, no outbreak, and modern AU

The record store in downtown Austin was filled to the brim with people excited to have their items signed by their favorite band. The crowd was a mix of teen girls with their dads and middle-aged men on their lonesome. The band in question was some underground band from the eighties that you had never heard of. 

Your co-worker, Emma, was in charge of keeping the crowd in check while you were manning the register. This wasn’t the first time you had done these signings. In the two years that you have worked here, hundreds of artists have come in and out of those doors. They attract their loyal fans to the store which can give it more publicity and customers. 

Your eyes scan the crowd. It was still pretty full, but the line had stopped trickling out of the doors and onto the sidewalk. You look over at Emma to see her standing with her weight on her left hip and her arms crossed. If you didn’t know her, you would have thought she looked like a bitch, but in all actuality, she is the nicest girl you know. 

The doors open and the bell above it rings. Your boss comes in and surveys the store. His bald head nods as he skims it. Nothing had been stolen and the customers looked happy. When his eyes land on you, your heart drops. You know that look. It was the same look he gave your other co-worker that look right before he fired him. You cross your fingers under the counter and plaster a fake smile on your face. 

Your entire world looks like it’s in slow motion. Your boss steps closer. Each step he takes makes your heart thump in your chest. The sound his thousand-dollar shoes make on the floor sounds like the bombs used on the battlefield. 

You don’t know if you either blacked out or passed out, but the next thing you knew, you were in the staff room gathering your things. This would be the last time you would ever step foot in this record store as an employee, but that should have been the least of your worries. You needed this job. Without it, you won’t be able to afford rent. Luckily, you were smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship for the university you attended, but there were still other expenses that needed to be paid. 

The hallway of your apartment building seemed colder than it usually is. The usual shushing of dogs who aren’t supposed to be in the apartment is replaced with static. The crickets weren’t even chirping. The sound of your breathing brought you out of your tiny rut. At least you were still alive.

The pink paper in front of your door made you stop in your tracks. You could read what it said from where you stood. ‘Rent will be increased to a thousand dollars a month’ was typed out in Times New Roman. Only pretentious bitches type in Times New Roman. 

You were sure that this was the work of the couple that bought the building six months ago. They promised the residents who lived there that the rent would stay the same, but the promise had just been broken. You were worried for yourself, sure, but you were also worried about the elderly people who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. 

You wish nothing but the worst for the new landlords and make your way into your studio apartment. It’s a mess, just the way you left it this morning. Your cat, Bill, lays outstretched on your couch as if he were the one who just worked eight hours only to get fired at the end of it. 

You flop on your couch and sigh. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to do. You just got fired and your rent got increased. If you can’t pay rent then you’ll become another homeless college student. Just another statistic to the state and a burden to the university. 

Your phone chimes and you almost cry with joy as you see your best friend’s caller ID flash across the screen. 

You pick up the phone and she begins talking immediately. She goes on and on about some boy she saw a the mall. He had icy blonde hair, but his roots were showing which meant that he wasn’t a natural blonde. This was a good distraction for about a few minutes until you realized that you wouldn’t be able to afford to go to the mall anymore. 

Your hot tears dribbled down your cheeks and fell onto your chest. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Cherry, I just got fired from my fucking job because my boss wants to buy more fucking shoes and my rent just got fucking increased because my landlords are fucking bastards!” You say through tears. “I think I just heard you say ‘fucking’ in that one sentence more times than I have heard you say it in your entire life,” Cherry laughs. 

“It’s not funny, Cherry. I'm going to be homeless!”

“Stop being dramatic. Sign up for flowers for one dot com. It’s a babysitting website where single parents find a babysitter for their children. My cousin did it for about a year and made more money than she does at her regular job.” 

For the first time in a very long time, Cherry gave you actual good advice. She gave you a solution to all of your problems. 

“Thanks, Cher, bye.” You hang up before Cherry has a chance to say goodbye. 

Your phone drops onto the couch and bounces off, falling on the floor. You suck in air through your teeth and grab your phone off the floor. You should be more gentle with it because you can’t afford to get a new one if it breaks. 

Flowers for one dot com was a simple website. It got straight to the point. No fancy explanation of ‘who are we’ or ‘why do we do this.’  You include the fact that you are certified by the Red Cross in CPR and that you are a senior at The University of Texas at Austin. You also add that you are majoring in architecture and the fact that you want to become an interior designer. 

Your profile is up and running in an hour. You look over it again and close your laptop. Your life is falling apart piece by piece, but maybe you should clean up a bit. 

The dirty clothes that were being neglected in the corner of your room are now in your hamper. You can see the hardwood floor that you’ll be paying a thousand dollars a month for. 

Your phone chimes once again, but this time it’s an email from the website. You almost drop your phone again as you read who it’s from. 

Joel Miller, Professor of Architectural Studies at The University of Texas at Austin.

I'm the pretentious bitch that writes in Times New Roman 🙋🏿‍♀️

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou

[monsterfloofs]

Alien x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(Got to write a little something for my new alieum speices! : > I hope you enjoy! )

It was a whole different experience to arrive at an intergalactic hub with no way to communicate. The typical buzz of translated voices in your ear was replaced with a cacophony of musical sounds, clicking, trills and other inhuman vocalizations. Not that you hadn’t heard them before, but while your tech was working you had been more focused on conversations you could hear and understand. The ability to understand the world around you newly disrupted by static that had buzzed and sputtered angrily into your eardrum. Now that your com portal had chosen the most inopportune time to fizzle out on you, this typical background din had engulfed your attention. A choir of many different voices and dialects, none of which sounded anything remotely like something you could comprehend.

You startled as you were pushed into the crowd, trying to evade one pushy lifeform had you accidentally colliding into another.

You brought your hands up in a plaintive gesture. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” The being blinked at you, tilting its head this way and that, pinchers moving silently. The realization hit hard, without your device working, they couldn’t understand you either. A wave of embarrassment rolled over you as you tried to gesture with your hands. Pointing towards your ear and waving your hands back and forth.

“My com is broken, I can’t um—- Ugh!” The only thing you could think of is to bow apologetically and hurry away before you get yourself into any more trouble.

“This stinks,” You mutter to yourself. “I can’t even ask for my ship to be refueled without this stupid thing working.” You exit the flowing crowd to stop at a quiet space and take a deep calming breath. A hand placed on your heart as you tried to steady your nerves. You didn’t like crowds at the best of times, all those bodies pressing in on you from every direction made your heart do panicked backflips in your chest. You counted your inhale as you felt your lungs rising up against your ribcage. Letting out the exhale for as long as you can stand before starting the pattern again. From this vantage point the crowds don't look that bad, the noise wasn’t as jarring, and you begin to feel like you can breathe easy again.

You observe one distinct looking alien waddling across the shiny tilted floor. It was a species you hadn’t seen before. They had a long snaked head and neck that smoothed into a humanoid torso but ended with a quadruped body with stumpy legs. Like an alligator with the head of a snake, that was fused with a human torso inbetween. With the air of some kind of strange centaur, it waddled along slowly. Its squat lizard legs padded with a pair of synthetic boots that were form fitted to its reptilian toes. It was amusing to note that a lot of aliens gave this being a wide berth, and it made you smile.

At least some beings in the galaxy weren’t letting themselves be pushed around. This fella was taking life in their own stride, and nobody dared telling them to hurry up. At least, not that you could hear anyway. That long neck swiveled towards you, and you saw six white glassy eyes peer at you from above the snake like snoot. You duck your head apologetically, quick to look away. You fumble to retrieve your cell device out of your pocket, looking through the maps of the station. “It looks like there's a help desk on the next floor. . . I am going to hope and pray that someone can understand english.”

Staying at the fringes of the crowd you stick close to the shiny chrome walls, hopping into an elevator that would bring you onto the next level. You do a surprise double take as they see the alligator snake centaur standing alone in the elevator. It’s beady eyes trained on you. The door closes with a ping and the two of you stand awkwardly together.

The being scratches its throat with a clawed hand, before what sounds like a symphony of crickets, come from the back of its throat.

You blink, your eyebrows shooting up at the sound.

“Um. . . Excuse me?”

More cricket sounds, and you grimace awkwardly, before nervously tapping at your ear.

“I can’t— er, I don’t— understand you.”

The pitch drops, sounding more like a swarm locust than crickets. It’s snout cracking open slightly to be able to produce the sound. You fidget anxiously, shoving your hand in your pocket to produce your com, then gesturing with your hands. Tucking the com into one palm before bringing your fists together, thumb down. Then you pull your hands, twisting your wrists. Mimicking a gesture that would be akin to snapping a stick.

“My com is broken,” You tap at your ear again, then demonstrate with your hands.

“Broken.”

You hear crickets again, and rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to crowd your elevator.” You perk up as the elevator door slides open, and with a sigh of relief you smile and wave to the strange alligator centaur.

“Well ah, I would say thanks for the chat, but um, you can’t understand me anyway. Haha, h-have a good day?” You step out onto the new platform, raising a hand to your forehead to try and see around the wave of new colorful station inhabitants. With your phone in one hand and your com back into your pocket you begin to navigate your way through the second floor.

Stopping with a sigh at the counter.

“Hi,” You begin, a deep baritone rumble coming from the severe looking creature from across the desk. Its deep forebrow raises skeptically as you smile awkwardly.

“Uh, uh, here!” You slide the com over the counter, and the being picks it up with a frown.

“It’s. . . ah”

You glance behind you as the reptilian being from the elevator waddles up to the counter. Their sixed glazed pearly eyes peer at you. “Did you need the help desk too?”

Crickets.

Crickets that the alien at the desk is able to hear, the brooding chiseled features lighten with understanding. A growly rumble coming from deep within its chest as it bares its teeth. Obviously laughing at you as your new friend explains your predicament.

“Hey!” You throw your hands up in defeat, “It wasn’t like I wanted to run around not being understood!”

You scrunch your nose as the two beings then engage in conversation, leaving you promptly in the dust. The alien behind the counter rises, pulling a monitor screen over for you, as words begin to jitter across the glass.

“Language?” The metallic voice hums boredly.

“Ah-Earthian English please, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” replies the Ai, a little nicer than before.

You visibly sag in relief as english words start scrolling across the screen.

[ Communicator is down? ]

“Yes!” You wheeze in exhaustion and relief. There’s more rumbling laughter and a flash of teeth from the bulky alien at the desk.

[ Damn, that’s rough ]

“Oh man, you have no idea, I think I was going to start hyperventilating here, soon. Do you think you can fix it?”

[ I’ll take a look at it and see what I can do. If not, there is a place at the station where you can buy a new one. I’ll wire the store coordinates to your phone, what’s the number? ]

“You’re a life saver, it’s 177-333-9973-602, I can’t thank you enough.”

You bring up your phone, tapping it to the ai screen and it plings as the new information comes through.

[ If I can’t get your com fixed, I will tell the owner you’re heading their way. ]

You take a deep breath and nod.

“Okay, thank you. Thank you again.”

The alien grunts, an amused smile still scrawled over their broad face as they turn away to tinker with the com.

“Well,” You say, turning to your snooted friend, “This has been quite a day, and it’s not even lunch yet.”

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

#alien x reader #alien x human #monster x human #monster x reader #alien x gender neutral reader #alien x gender neutral human

[dollsbite]

- WRAPPED AROUND MY NECK ; the addams family.

pairing: wednesday addams + gn! reader

contains: adult wednesday (19), mentions of blood, mentions of a noose (not in a suicidal context), written with a wlw reader in mind but all can read, wednesday being wednesday.

"there you are, wednesday. i've been looking everywhere for you," a sickly sweet voice cut through the silence of the night, "you're going to freeze to death out here."

"i hope i do," wednesday declared, eyes wandering onto the patio below. though the stroke of midnight was fastly approaching, the party was still as lively as ever. an eruption of loud, roaring cheers emitting from the ballroom accompanied the chirp of crickets, along with the cooing of the wind. my parents must be putting a show on, the black-haired woman concluded.

"you're not going to die tonight," wednesday melted upon hearing her lover's voice, "at least, not without me."

for the first time, wednesday experienced what she assumed to be fear. however, it wasn't as dreadful as many described it: it was almost. . . exciting. it left her craving for more, more of you - the one person that made her faltering heart beat out of her chest. when was the last time she felt this sickening, but intriguing feeling? if any, at all?

a shadow cast over wednesday, feeling a familiar weight drape over her shoulders. with the fabric brushing her skin, she instantly knew you wrapped your jacket around her. the crisp air no longer nipped at the exposed skin of her lower back, where her black dress was cut.

"how generous of you; i'm surprised i didn't have to pry it from your cold, dead hands," wednesday teased, hugging the garment closer to her chest. she could fondly recall nearly fighting to the death with you for the same jacket, the blade of your sword resting coolly against her neck. she was impressed with your swordsmanship, though, you'd never be able to tell with her blank face. wednesday nearly cut your arm off after that, pugsley cheering her on.

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?" your tone was smug, the smirk on your face evident of that. for years, it seemed as though she had a goal to scare you to death. from a deceased relative reaching beyond the grave to grab your leg to a shadowy creature with multiple fearsome eyes stalking you (who you soon learned was her cousin), you've seen it all. however, her efforts were futile; you never even flinched once.

"i wouldn't be so cocky if i were you. i'll get you one of these days, you'll see," her words had a hint of teasing to them, however, she sounded eerily determined. wednesday fully intended to keep her promise.

"looking forward to it," you grinned, shoving your hands into your pockets. wednesday quirked her lips.

without another word, the two of you observed the rest of the party from the balcony. you spotted shaggy-haired cousin itt dancing with his wife in the crowd, as well as fester moving to the rhythm with a knife in his mouth. the thing was seated on his shoulder, wiggling his fingers enthusiastically.

morticia and gomez weren't difficult to find, they stood out the most with their extravagant waltz. with brilliant twists and spins, the lovers stole the show. gomez spun morticia around, holding her close to pepper her shoulder with many kisses. their obvious display of affection sent shivers down wednesday's spine and put a smile on your face.

wednesday tore her gaze away from her parents, nose scrunched up. out of habit, she reached for the charm dangling from her choker. inside the clear crystal was something so precious to her: a few drops of your blood. a similar vial hung from a chain around your neck, wednesday's blood filling the jewel.

she caressed the smooth surface, eyes darting back to see if you were staring at her. once she noticed you were still focused on the party, she pressed a small kiss to the crystal. it felt foreign and unnatural to her, yet, she should help but grin wickedly. you had her wrapped around her finger; the necklace clung around her neck tightly like a noose, wednesday struggled to breathe, gasping for air. the sensation left an almost unbearable stinging in her lungs, yet, it left her selfishly wanting more.

those amber eyes twinkled chillingly in the moonlight. she was going to enjoy scaring the pants off of you.

— [♡] ; reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you for the support

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #the addams family #the addams family fanfic #the addams family fanfiction #the addams family x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader #fanfiction

[from-memphis-with-love]

1849 - an Elvis Presley One-Shot

Summary: It's 1849 and the height of the Oregon Trail. Pearl, an innocent and inexperienced young woman, is plucked from the prairie and into a marriage with rough and tumble rancher Elvis Presley. She's practically paralyzed with fear on her wedding night. But all is not what it seems: he is actually loving and kind with her, and, with a little gentle coaxing, she soon comes to find out the true meaning of what her husband affectionately calls his "manly duties."

Beneath a velvet sky embroidered with stars, the sweeping prairie of the Willamette Valley undulated endlessly, its breezy grasses frosted silver in the gentle moonlight, swaying like the swells of a wheat-colored sea. The air, redolent with sagebrush and wildflower nectar, whispered tales yet untold. 

A weathered log cabin, sturdy as an old oak, nestled harmoniously amid the untamed expanse. Inside, flickering candlelight danced upon the rough-hewn walls, casting writhing shadows that capered about. This humble abode was far more than a shelter; it housed two hearts newly joined in matrimony's sacred covenant. 

Upon a mattress of timber and homespun linens lay the newlyweds. The sounds of crickets and distant animals floated on the night air, a natural lullaby straight from the land itself. They reveled in the hushed serenity of their nascent life together.

A stillness Pearl finally punctured with a question. 

"Elvis?" she pouted, her reedy voice not fully her own. "You've stolen the blanket." Mistaking her complaint for invitation, Elvis sidled closer, his sturdy frame a barrier against the cool night air. He slipped his hand atop her opposite side, ensconcing her between his bare chest and muscular arm. "Might I perhaps have them back, please?"

He nuzzled nearer, his tone playful. "Chilly? Lemme warm you up, then."

Now, with mere inches between them, his radiant skin-heat seemed to flow directly into her own, quickening her heartbeat. She swallowed, her voice quavering slightly. "Do you... have a nightshirt, perhaps?"

"A night-what?" His confusion, genuine or feigned, hung in the air between them, charged with the unspoken energy of their touch.

Pearl closed her eyes, seeking refuge in inky darkness, away from the maelstrom roiling within. She wished to be anywhere but perched on the precipice of her wedding night, an apprehensive innocent bound to a man whose depths were only just beginning to unfurl before her. 

Her thoughts meandered to distant places: endless prairies beneath boundless skies, their splendor unfettered and raw. She pictured the wind's caress, laden with wildflower perfume, conveying whispers of age-old tales. How she yearned for freedom, to roam unconstrained by society's fetters!

Her heart ached for the unknown, the thrill of novel faces and locales. Perhaps in a bustling metropolis, pulsating with a mosaic of sounds, she could vanish into the crowd, shedding her naïve bride skin. Or on a lonely mountain peak, inhaling the crisp air, losing herself in nature's majesty, finding peace in its seclusion. 

No, she banished the thought, Elvis Presley never feels fear, and I'm a fool to think otherwise. 

Somehow, this realization lent her the strength to open her eyes, letting curiosity temper her fears. Yet, the echoes of a strict upbringing whispered doubts, and she might feel more at ease about it all if Elvis kept some of his clothes on—at least for the night. She broached the subject of modesty. “A nightshirt. If you have one in that chest over there, I’d appreciate you wearing it,” she ventured.

Unlike Pearl, Elvis had no such compunctions about their intimacy, nor was he concerned with modesty. His hands, calloused from the laborious toil of ranch work, possessed an innate understanding of the contours that ignited pleasure. His lips held secrets of countless stolen kisses and whispered promises. He cocked a sly smile at her request.

“Honey, you know I don’t own no nightshirt. The closest I come is wearing my long johns in the winter, and now that I got you to keep me warm, I reckon I won’t wear ‘em anymore.”

“Then what, pray tell, shall you wear?”

In one smooth motion, Elvis lifted her until she sat upright before him, noticing with some relief that his trousers remained in place. Strong fingers carded through her hair, treating the auburn strands as delicately as silk. 

"Y’know, the first time I laid eyes on you, you know I imagined you wearin’ nothin’ but your beautiful hair?”

Pearl froze, stunned by the vulnerability his words implied. To be so exposed, with only her hair for modesty, sparked an instinctual alarm...yet also fascination. Like a deer in a rife’s sight, she wrestled with the storm of fear and curiosity Elvis's revelation provoked. 

Firelight danced in his eyes, flecks of gold glittering in that captivating blue. With care, Elvis gathered her hair over her breasts. Though clothed, Pearl shivered at the suggestive act, a blush creeping up her neck. 

"Just like that," he murmured admiringly. "Sweet little rosebuds begging to be kissed. Peekin’ out to me and all."

Sitting there, Pearl felt Elvis's gaze wash over her like sunlight piercing through fog. His words stirred something deep within, blossoming warmth that spread from her cheeks down through her chest. But it didn't stop there. A swirling eddy gripped her belly, intensifying into a molten pull that sunk her deeper into this newfound swell of feeling. No one had told her a wedding night could feel like this. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing away the betrayal of her body's response. 

Noticing her blush, Elvis leaned back, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Seems I might be pushing my luck tonight," he mused, his mouth settling into a bashful grin. He caressed her cheek, his calloused thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin. “My God, you are so lovely.” Though his touch was gentle, she tensed. "Little Pearly, are you really that nervous?"

Pearl's heart raced, her cheeks burning with a mix of fear and longing as she took in the sight of Elvis's bare chest. The raw exposure of his skin, the dance of muscles beneath, stirred a whirlwind of emotions—curiosity, vulnerability. Fear. An evil desire she wouldn’t dare name. The way he looked stirred a terrible hunger deep within, and she couldn’t help but long for a barrier between them, a shield to temper the intensity of their connection.

With a voice touched by nerves, she mustered the courage to voice her yearning. "I would probably feel better if you put on a shirt," she ventured softly, unaware of the intoxicating effect her request had on Elvis, who looked back at her with a mix of amusement and reverence. "Are you sure you don't have one, Elvis?"

"I can do it with a shirt on, but I reckon I’ll have to take my trousers off sooner or later," he quipped, then caught himself, noting the joke wasn’t helping. "Is there anything else troubling you, darlin'?"

Pearl straightened, clearing her throat. "I’d really appreciate it if you just get on with it, please. I want to get this over with. We can talk afterward, alright?"

Elvis's smile faded, his thumb stilling on her cheek. "Ah, honey, I’m so sorry. I need a good whuppin’, that’s what I need," he said, nudging his nose against hers playfully. He twirled one of her curls around his finger, breathing in her scent. "I’m just a big ole oaf, is what I am. Here I am jokin’ my head off and you’re as nervous as a fawn. I should be making you feel good instead. Makin’ you forget what it is you’re so scared about.” 

Pearl’s eyes crossed trying to peer into his, so she let them flutter closed.

Cupping her face in his rough palms, Elvis lifted his forehead from hers, leaving a ghost of warmth behind. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip of her nose. Pearl's heart fluttered at the gentle gesture, her grip tightening on his broad wrists as he guided her back onto the bed. Sinking into the mattress, she felt a mix of trepidation and trust as Elvis settled above her, forearms bracketing her shoulders.

“My wife,” he whispered, chest grazing her breasts as he bent close. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart,” he murmured, full lips barely brushing hers in a whisper-soft caress. “I’ll make it real nice for you. Pearl, I will never intentionally hurt you. I swear it.”

“Elvis...” She parted her lips to speak, but his mouth stole the words. His breath was warm and sweet with a hint of black coffee as she sucked it in. Soft lips trailed over the contours of her mouth, leaving desire in their wake. But when his probing tongue intruded, Pearl recoiled in shock and apprehension, questioning the unfamiliar invasion. 

Pearl's world narrowed to the feel of his lips. They ignited longings within her, each touch kindling dormant desires. 

Her racing heart stumbled over itself as his tongue gently challenged her limited experience. Fingers digging into his arms, climbing to the solid assurance of his shoulders, she wondered, silently pleading, What's happening to me?

Desire, raw and unbidden, surged within her. Yet a shadow of doubt whispered too, questioning her boldness. Still, as they kissed, warmth bloomed inside her, promising pleasure, promising connection. Though separated by her thin nightgown, his touch blazed lines of fire over her skin, pulling her into a dance between longing and hesitation. 

For the first time, Pearl reveled in the forbidden delight of passionate kisses, a realm unknown to her sheltered life. The caress of his mouth on hers was a dance, each movement stirring longing she hadn't known existed. Every press and yielding response painted a portrait of contradictions—firm yet molten, unyielding yet accommodating. She prayed they would do this part of it frequently, whatever came next.

Catching her lower lip, he rolled it tenderly beneath his tongue, gently nibbling. Oh yes, she adored kissing. Their kisses grew bolder, back and forth, until his chest pressed firmly against hers. Her pounding heartbeat drowned out the owl's hoot outside. Arching against him, she dug her nails into his shoulders, overwhelmed by urgent, indescribable desire. She pressed into his rippling heat with greater intensity, seeking solace in his muscular frame.

Again, he delicately caught her lower lip between his teeth, rolling it tenderly beneath his tongue and gently nibbling on it.

Oh, yes.

She adored kissing him. Their kisses escalated until she was deaf to everything but her pounding heart. Arching into him, nails digging into his shoulders, she was overwhelmed with desire, seeking solace in his heat.

He relinquished his hold on her hair, breaking the kiss to embark on a tantalizing exploration of her face. His lips traced a path along her cheek, leaving a trail of teasing nips and touches that sent delightful shivers coursing through her body. With deliberate intent, he traveled upward, caressing her temple before retracing his path down to her eyelids.

Oh, what sensations!

His mouth against her sensitive skin was pure ecstasy. Venturing to her ear, his breath resonated as he nibbled her earlobe, flicking his tongue along the tender hollow beneath. A soft moan escaped her. Descending to her neck, his kisses made her tremble, breath hitching. She adored his skillful, desiring mouth. His presence enveloped her, intensifying the longing within, and she felt a curious pooling in her lap that startled her. Their hips pressed together, moving slowly, heightening the achingly sweet yearning in her veins. Lost in the moment, she faintly registered his trembling hands worrying the buttons of her gown, finally easing the fabric open. A gentle breeze brushed her bare breasts, sending delicious shivers down her spine - an unfamiliar yet delightful sensation.

A faint whisper of caution echoed in Pearl's mind, a remnant of scriptures urging caution against such intoxicating desire. Yet the allure was too powerful to resist. She surrendered to cascading waves of pleasure, losing herself in the intensity of their connection, exploring the passion dormant within her. The world fell away. All that mattered was the electric current drawing them closer in a dance of yearning and surrender. 

"Good Lord," he rasped, voice thick with desire. "I can’t even breathe, I want you so bad.” 

His scorching tongue blazed a path over her taut, yearning nipple. A jolting shock seized her, stealing her breath, causing her heart to falter. His mouth enveloped her with fervent intensity, sensations reverberating to her toes. Wide-eyed, she glanced down to see his flawless face nestled against her breast. Gradually he retreated, teasingly tugging her nipple, teeth capturing the pulsating bud before releasing, only to repeat the exquisite torment. 

Shock rippled through her, leaving her gasping in disbelief. Yet he drew her back into his mouth, swallowing her essence with unyielding passion. Panic gripped her and she screamed, pushing against him with all her might, cries echoing. What is happening? What unspeakable act is this? Oh mercy!

She felt betrayed. His audacious promises were deceitful lies! He personified sinful, impure yearning. This pleasure was too good to be true. 

As Pearl's piercing screams reverberated through the air, the sound struck Elvis like a lightning bolt, jolting him from his haze. Fear and concern etched his face as he sprang up, heart pounding. Reaching out with trembling hands, he gripped her shoulders urgently, as if to anchor them both. 

"Darlin', what's the matter? Did I hurt you?"

She screamed again, scrambling away and hastily closing her gown with trembling hands, desperately trying to conceal herself - a raw, vulnerable moment, reminding them both of past wounds. 

"Leave me be! Don't you lay a hand on me! You deceived me, you lied!" she cried, anguished.

In the corner, Get Lo, the loyal hound, rose with a mournful howl as footsteps and voices neared the cabin. Fists pounded the sturdy door, causing it to tremble. 

"Boss!" Red's voice echoed. "Hey, boss!" More commotion. "Stand back! I'll kick it down if I have to!"

"No!" Elvis shouted. "It's alright, Red! Don't break down the door!" 

"Show yourself then, damn it! How do I know someone ain't holdin' a gun on ya?"

"God damnit, I'll be right there!" Elvis shot an anxious look at his bride, now wedged into the corner between the headboard and wall. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. One second and I’ll be right back, alright?" 

But she appeared more inclined to a tooth extraction than entertaining that idea. Elvis muttered an oath and went to the door, lifting the bolt and cracking it open to let Red glimpse him in the flickering candlelight. "We're alright. Weren’t nothing, Red. Just a misunderstanding, is all." 

Red's eyes blazed with desert-sun intensity. "A misunderstanding? She nearly shook the soul out of me, Elvis!" His voice held the edge of a man ready to face a nest of rattlers. "A misunderstanding?" 

Elvis bowed his head, a shadow of remorse etching across his face. "I’m sorry, Red. This is my doing, not hers." 

Red shot a knowing look and without a word, Elvis eased the door closed, his hand lingering on the bolt before it fell into place with a gentle thud. He turned slowly, his gaze drawn to the bed. 

Pearl clung to a pillow, her eyes wide pools of darkness against her pale face. Fear and disbelief swirled within those inky depths. 

"You lied!" Her shrill cry pierced the heavy air. 

Brows furrowed, Elvis sank onto the mattress. "Sweetheart, I swear I didn't deceive you. Please, tell me what I did wrong."

She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her shoulders with trembling hands. "You lied! You gave me your word!" Her voice broke on the accusation.

Elvis leaned forward, elbows on knees, straining to read her face in the dim firelight. Though just minutes ago passion had flowed between them, now she recoiled from his touch. Her chin jutted out defiantly. "Why did you lie?"

Steady but tinged with desperation, his voice cut through the tense silence. "What lie?" His eyes searched hers for any glimmer of understanding. He fought to remain calm amidst the storm raging within the room. "Sweetheart, please, tell me what you believe I lied about."

Her lips twisted in bitter disbelief. "Don't play dumb. You said you conducted yourself righteously, like the brethren." She spat out a harsh laugh. "None of them would ever behave as you did. You lied, plain and simple. And I was foolish enough to believe it." 

Elvis ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, frustration creeping into his voice. "I did not lie."

"You most certainly did!" she shrieked, the words piercing the air. "You claimed to be free of impious inclinations!"

Elvis replayed his actions in his mind, struggling to pinpoint his misstep. He could only surmise he had unintentionally caused her harm. "Did I hurt your breasts when I kissed them? I didn't mean to come on too strong." 

She let out a scream, shielding her face with her hands. "Do not speak such vulgar words! I am not married to you! Do you hear me? I am not!"

"Pearl, you’re not talkin’ sense. People don’t marry and unmarry over a misunderstanding. They engage in con-ver-sa-tion," he implored, sounding out the word slowly. “We need to talk this through.”

"Well, I did not enter into a marriage. I was deceived!" 

Elvis sighed, running his fingers through his hair again. "Deceived, married...we have to talk. Please, tell me what I've done."

She persisted in hiding her face behind trembling fingers, oblivious to her gaping gown and the exposed breast it revealed. The nipple he had showered with affection remained erect, illuminated by the flickering fire. It seemed to beckon for more—a request he would gladly oblige if only she were more receptive. 

"You know perfectly well why I'm upset," she accused, voice muffled.

"No, I truly do not," he confessed. Shifting to all fours, he moved closer, examining her tender nipple. Pink and raw, it stood erect, pulsating with her quickened heartbeat. He was too rough, he concluded with regret. 

Grasping her knees, he gently unfolded her legs before straddling her thighs. Palms planted on either side, he focused on her quivering hands. "Pearl, please lower your hands and look at me." 

"No!"

"I promise I won't do it again. Alright? I'm truly sorry. From now on, you hold the reins. Whatever pleases you is exactly how I'll do things, I swear. You just have to tell me what feels nice and what doesn't." 

"Well, that certainly wasn't nice!" 

"Then, you guide me on how you want it, and I'll follow your lead." 

Pearl jerked away, a sob catching in her throat. Swirling emotions tightened her chest. "How can I trust you're not lying?" 

Elvis sighed, the sound resonating deep within his broad chest. "Have I ever lied to you?"

The faint scent of leather and tobacco enveloped her as he leaned closer. She inhaled sharply. "Yes." 

He raked a hand through his dark locks. "Sweetheart, let me show you the truth." 

His warm breath grazed her ear, evoking memories of his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. Goosebumps prickled her arms. "Was it nice at first?" His deep timbre reverberated through her.

"Yes." 

"Well then, we'll only do what feels nice. I promise." His voice was like rich honey, urging her to taste its sweetness. 

She peered at him through splayed fingers. "Do you swear it?"

His eyes smoldered like blue flames. "Honey, I don't just swear it. I'll prove it to you."

His head dipped lower, warm lips finding her breast. She jerked back with a shriek, her elbow catching his ear. 

Elvis recoiled, clutching his head. "Damn it, Pearl Marie! Now I know I didn't hurt you that time!" 

“Scoundrel!” Shame flooded her cheeks. She scrambled to escape, but her nightgown snagged beneath his knees. Strong hands grasped her shoulders. She balled her fists. "Don't touch me! If you do, I won't be responsible. I'll fight like you taught me and I’ll break your nose this time!" 

"Why are you fighting me?" Hurt and frustration etched his rugged features. 

She trembled, anger and confusion swirling within. "Why? You do a thing like that and you ask me why? You lied! You promised to do things proper, but you didn't!"

"A thing like what?" Elvis began to grasp the situation, though he struggled to believe he had it right. "Kissing your breast, you mean?" 

She covered her face again, trembling. "Stop saying things like that!" 

"Like what? Breast? Nipples? Titties? Yer cans?" he started to laugh. She made a keening sound. Get Lo joined in, throwing back his head and emitting a playful bark. 

"Shut up!" Elvis yelled, his frustration mounting. Get Lo continued to howl, but Pearl jumped in surprise and began holding her breath. "Not you, honey." Elvis shot a fierce glare at the howling hound. "Get Lo! I don't need you interfering none!" The hound fell silent and grumbled. 

Elvis figured he had his answer regarding the matter of the breast. He rubbed his face wearily and blinked. "Pearl, do you believe that kissing you there is ungodly?" 

She removed her hands from her face, gaping at him in astonishment. "Of course it is! You promised to do things the regular way, and you lied!"

Realization washed over him. So that’s what this was about. “Well, what is the regular way, Pearl Marie? I guess maybe I ain’t real clear on that.” 

The fire’s amber glow illuminated her face, but darkness still shrouded her eyes. She perched on the edge of the roughhewn log bed, hands folded primly in her lap. 

"You're just supposed to do your... thing!" she insisted, biting her lower lip. 

Elvis cocked his head, his brow furrowing. "My thing? What exactly is my thing?"

She shrank back against the headboard. "Just... you know. And nothing else!" Her words came out in a nervous rush.

Elvis sank back on his heels, disbelief etched on his face. "Is that what your mother told you? Honey, I think there's been a misunderstanding here."

"No, there hasn't!" She sat up straight, her voice sharp. "She spelled it out plain and clear!"

Elvis's mind raced, recalling the tales he'd heard about the strict sects with their restrictive ways. The kinds of places that squeezed the lifeblood out of a man. His gaze drifted to the plain black dresses and gray undergarments piled against the wall. A hollow feeling settled in his gut. 

"Pearl Marie, are you saying the men in your church never touch a woman? They just...do it and leave it at that?"

She turned her face away, her chin quivering. "Yes. And Ma said I should just lie there and meditate, ignore the... goings-on while it happened." 

A laugh burst from Elvis's lips before he could stop it. Hazel eyes flashed accusingly at him and he threw up his hands. "Honey, I ain't laughing at you. I swear it." He struggled to compose himself, leaning back against the sturdy log footboard. Maybe he should change the subject, but he couldn't help it. Laughter shook his body until he had to clutch his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

"I ain't making fun, truly," he managed between fits. "Just had a funny thought is all."

He wiped his eyes, regaining a shred of control until he pictured himself in a black suit and hat, dutifully making sterile love. That image shattered his restraint. He laughed again until his sides ached, finally going limp against the footboard. 

"Well, damn," he muttered, wondering what had set him off in the first place. Wasn't funny at all. The woman he loved wanted to recite psalms while he moved inside her. Heaven forbid he disrupt her concentration. 

"Are you finished?" she asked crisply, buttoning her dress up to her throat once more. 

Elvis looked up at her. "Reckon I am."

"Then let me take this opportunity to inform you that I don't believe we are compatible. Our marriage would be a disaster unless you abandon your sinful desires."

He sat up and met her gaze directly. "That just ain’t gonna happen. Ain’t nothin’ sinful about a man makin’ his woman feel good.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, dropping her eyes. Longing pierced his chest, for he did love her. But he wouldn't surrender his principles to appease her church's notions of marital duties. There was nothing unholy about wanting to worship every inch of her. If she believed otherwise, well, she was just as confused as the rest of them. He knew she'd be happier once he showed her the truth.

"Remember when I said we're coming at this from different angles?" he began gently. "That it might take some time to find middle ground?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Well, I was righter’n I thought." He gave her a tender look. "But that don't mean we ain't meant for each other. Just means we gotta compromise, both of us."

"I won't compromise my beliefs." 

"Honey, I ain’t concerned with your beliefs. It's your body I got my sights set on," he said, throwing her an innocent look, although looking harmless wasn't one of his natural talents. "We can work this out."

"How? I won't permit the things you did earlier. I won't!"

“Well, tell me something you will allow, and we’ll take it from there.” He leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees. With effort, he kept his mind off the image of himself in a suit. "What do the church men do exactly?"

She looked down at him from the side of the bed. "My mother told me that on my wedding night and every night thereafter, I should lie still on my back. She told me that my husband would come to me at night and join me in the darkness under the quilts. He would lift my gown to my hips and fulfill his manly duty swiftly. And there wasn’t much more to it than that," she gulped, her voice trembling. "And if I wished, I think of something else like prayer or meditation until he finished."

Elvis suppressed a chuckle. One stray laugh and she'd never forgive him. Instead he stroked his chin, hiding his smile. 

"Well, now, you see? We already got half of it licked. At least now I know what I can and can’t do," he said. 

Wary hazel eyes searched his face. He realized he'd shaken her world more than he’d thought. It was no laughing matter.

"So you might be willing to compromise?" Hope tinged her voice.

"Well, now..." Elvis considered swiftly."Is kissing like we did before allowed?" 

"Yes," she answered.

He stroked his chin. "Let's see if I got this right. From your collarbone down to your hips, that area's off limits."

"Correct," she nodded.

"But from your hipbones down, that's free territory?" 

"Correct," she confirmed.

"And in the area that’s mine, is there any rules?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

She appeared bewildered. "Rules?"

"Your ma told you their rules. So what do the church men do when they fulfill their duty? Tell me plain so I'm clear."

She shook her head. "She didn't say. They just... do it." She waved her hand dismissively. 

Bingo.

"So, there ain’t no rules how I do my manly business."

"Not that I know of. That’s your business. A wife does not concern herself with such matters," she responded.

Elvis raised an eyebrow. "So, I can do my business as I please?"

She hesitated, sensing a trap but unable to grasp it. In her innocence, she couldn't fathom his motive. Guilt pricked Elvis, but experience had taught him that sometimes conscience was a man's worst enemy. 

"I suppose you can," she finally answered. "It’s your business, after all."

"And you ain’t gonna protest? ‘Cept if I hurt you which I’ll try my damnest not to do." he asked. "Do I have your word? You just gonna think about scripture and let me do my thing? Let me conduct my manly duties as I see fit?”

She blinked at him warily. "You swear you won't engage in vulgar acts above my hips?"

"Honey, not unless you ask," he assured her.

"Why would I ever ask such a thing?" Incredulity filled her voice.

"Just leaving it on the table is all. Do I have your word?"

"Yes, you have my word," she replied.

Elvis suppressed a grin. "One more thing. How much time do I get?" 

She gaped at him, eyes wide. "Well, I don't know. How long does it take?"

"Well, that's the thing. Sometimes longer than others. Can I have all the time I need?" he proposed.

"I... suppose so," she hesitated. 

Elvis raised his hands. "Well, there you go. A com-pro-mise, just like you said. You promise you’re okay with this?"

She eyed the rumpled quilts where she had lain just moments before. A crease formed between her brows. Reluctantly, she nodded, though her pursed lips revealed lingering doubts. 

"I promise," she replied, sounding skeptical. "On the condition that you swear to be content with the brethren's way of conducting ourselves, forever."

Elvis lifted his right hand. "I swear on my mama's grave, I won't lay a hand or lip on you from hips to collar—'less you ask me to."

“Shall I lie back down then?”

“I reckon.” 

With a resigned sigh, she slid back onto the feather mattress. Stiff as a plank, she squeezed her eyes shut and folded her hands over her chest, bracing herself. In a small voice she called out, "Elvis?"

“Yes, darlin’?”

"Don't forget the quilts." 

In response, Elvis reached behind, his fingers brushing against the rough woven quilts. Gripping the edges, he rose to his knees and gently peeled back the layers of fabric. 

"Covered up to your chin?" he asked, his voice a tender whisper. 

She nestled into the quilts' warmth, squeezing her eyes shut as if blocking out the world around her. "Please."

Elvis tugged the quilts up to her chin and slipped underneath beside her. "I can lay my arm over you, can't I? I've done it a million times already," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her cheek.

"Yes. That should be fine.”

With a feather-light touch, Elvis curved his hand around her waist, fingertips pressing into her soft flesh as he drew her closer. "Come here, sweetheart. You're still scared." Propping himself up on his elbow, he gazed down at her closed eyes, placing gentle kisses on each delicate eyelid. "I'm sorry for how I acted before, for shocking you. You know I would never do it on purpose."

She turned her cheek toward his lips, savoring their tender brush against her skin. "And... I'm sorry for hurting your ear. Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," he reassured, his voice low and soothing. 

Elvis started to tenderly brush her hair away from her face, tucking back silken strands behind her ear. "You’re so beautiful it breaks my heart. Have I ever told you that?"

She lifted her lashes, a smile gracing her lips. "Oh, Elvis." She embraced his neck tightly, inhaling his familiar scent. "I apologize for all the cruel things I said."

He held her close, pressing his face against her hair that smelled of waterlilies, feeling as though he possessed all the world's riches in his arms. "It ain’t nothing, I know you didn’t mean it." She pressed her body closer to his, molding her curves against his hard contours. He couldn't help but smile, a spark of desire igniting within.

Kissing. 

Pearl's lips melded with his, sparking an electric current that coursed through every nerve. The celestial stars themselves seemed to pale in comparison to the heavenly sensation surging within her. She yearned for more, quivering in anticipation of his touch. He claimed her mouth once again, exceeding her loftiest expectations. With torturous slowness, he traced her lips, exploring their delicate curves and coaxing soft sighs from her throat. As their bodies pressed together, his chest grazing hers sent delicious shivers dancing across her skin. She dismissed the friction as accidental, though an aching need stirred within her. 

Each kiss scattered her thoughts, shattering her inhibitions. Clinging to him fiercely, she sought to draw him closer still, desperate to merge their souls. Her nails dug crescents into his shoulders, stinging pain he appeared oblivious to. His lips blazed a trail down her neck, igniting an inferno beneath her skin. 

"Oh, Elvis..." she breathed, the words trailing off as emotion choked her voice. 

“What, darlin’? Am I wanderin’ too close to your collar?” 

Sensing the question hanging in the air, tears pricked her eyes. With a single word, she could end this exquisite torture. His taut muscles revealed his readiness to comply. Yet the thought of halting him brought inexplicable sorrow. Her fingertips glided over his shoulders, feeling the power coiled within him—power that belonged to her. 

She recalled his sudden embrace the night before, his body pressing down, dominating yet tender. He could have taken anything, but treated her like fragile glass. Always in control, yet somehow still hers to command.

Last night, when she'd elbowed him in the ear, he'd instinctively withdrawn, putting needed space between them. The irony was not lost on her; she had become a threat to him. But it was his tenderness that stirred her emotions, now bringing tears to her eyes. She was deeply moved by his unwavering care and protective nature. Oh, how she adored him, her heart overflowing with immeasurable love.

"Sweetheart, you're crying. Did I do something wrong?" His words were laced with concern, a genuine desire to understand and make amends. Pearl found herself unable to form a response, emotions rendering her speechless.

"Should I stop?" he asked gently, his voice conveying both worry and willingness to fulfill her wishes. 

“Oh, Elvis!” she finally managed.

His hand slid from her waist, slipping between her and the mattress, pulling her closer against his solid chest. "What's the matter, darlin'? Are you scared? I promise, I'll be gentle with you. Don't be afraid," he whispered in a soothing tone.

"I love you!" she exclaimed, clinging to him, seeking solace in his embrace. "I'm not afraid. It's just... oh, Elvis, I love you so much it hurts." 

He tensed, her words both balm and challenge to his heart. "I love you," she said again, conviction ringing in her voice. "I love you more than words can express."

A tremor rippled through his sturdy frame. His rough, calloused hand were splayed across her back, yet he treated her like the most precious treasure. Despite his strength, his touch remained gentle and caring. "Oh, darlin’," he whispered, voice quivering. "I love you too. With all that I am and all that I’ve got. But it shouldn't make you sad."

"I'm not sad! I'm happy!" she insisted.

He pressed tender kisses to her other cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. "Well, damn..." Frustration and bewilderment colored his tone, making her giggle uncontrollably. She felt his lips curve into a crooked grin against her skin as he continued trailing kisses along her ear. "Pearl Marie, will I ever understand you? Crying because you're happy. Darlin’, sometimes I swear you’re just plum crazy. You don’t make a lick of sense!"

She tilted her head, surrendering to his kiss, the word "lick" igniting a fervent desire for him to tease her sensitive spots with his tongue once more. As if sensing her need, he found a delectably vulnerable spot just below her ear, eliciting a soft gasp as she melted into his touch. 

"Yes, right there. Just like that. Oh, yes..." she whispered huskily. Her gown began to shift as he tugged it up, initially causing a spike of fear. But then his palm caressed her bare thigh, sending waves of pleasure washing over her.

Each touch felt like butterfly kisses, leaving her skin tingling with anticipation. Her heart pounded against her chest, and her breath turned shallow and unsteady. With feather-light fingertips, he traced a path to the very core of her being, teasing and tantalizing her with every stroke, only to trail away and trace maddeningly sweet patterns along her knees. It was as if her very essence had turned into a molten syrup, yearning to flow and merge with his touch. The quilts shifted, and suddenly she felt the moist, silken press of his lips against her thigh. Startled, she opened her eyes wide and stiffened with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. 

"Elvis, what are you..." Her words faded to a breathless moan as his tongue flickered, tracing delicate spirals that kindled liquid heat low in her belly. 

Through the quilts, his muffled voice vibrated against sensitive flesh. "Just relax, darlin'. I'm tending to business." 

"But, I don't know if..." She clamped her knees together, but his broad shoulders gently eased them apart. 

Pearl clutched the rough-hewn headboard, pulse racing. Was he really going to...? Oh Lord, the man aimed to kiss her there. Shock paralyzed her even as exquisite sensations spread like wildfire across her skin, urging her to surrender. 

"This ain't proper," she managed, but her resolve wavered under the intoxicating caress of his lips. 

He lazily circled her inner thigh, tongue painting glistening trails that seared like summer sun on bare skin. "Hush now, you're sweeter than cherry pie." His warm breath raised gooseflesh. "Let me take care of you."

"Darlin', reckon this here's how it's done?" 

"Elvis, are you sure 'bout this? I... I can't rightly tell."

"Start meditatin’, sweetheart. This here's my territory, not yours. Got it?" 

She closed her eyes, her voice quivering. "Mediating?" she repeated, sounding mighty puzzled. Drawing nearer, he raised his shoulders, leaning in closer to her. "No need to fret, darlin'. Remember what your ma told ya. Jus' lay still and don’t pay me no nevermind." 

He continued his tantalizing journey upwards. She twitched, tightening her grip on the headboard, her gaze fixed on the heavens. 

"I'll holler when I'm done, alright?" 

Done? Pearl felt an intense longing surge through her core. Close her eyes, that's what she was supposed to do. But... oh, dear heavens. "How long will it... will it take?" she managed to inquire. 

Rough palms grasped her backside. Pearl's eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her parted lips. Merciful heavens, he meant to... 

"Just as..." he trailed his tongue along her inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure with every teasing lick, "just as long as it needs to, darlin'." 

The first slow lap of his tongue drew a shuddering moan. Fingers clutching the sheets, she stared skyward. This couldn't be real. But the wet heat enveloping her dispelled all doubts. 

When he found that one exquisitely sensitive spot, her body jolted as if struck by lightning. "Elvis, I can't..."

"You can, darlin'," he purred before capturing her swollen flesh. 

"E-Elvis?" she stammered, her voice vibrating as if it traveled through her vocal cords on a wild bronco.

"Darlin', this part ain't your concern. Jus' lie still and let me handle my business, ya hear?" 

"Oh God, please..." She twisted handfuls of his hair, no longer caring what was proper. 

His low chuckle vibrated through her very core. "That's my girl. That's the rule," he drawled firmly. "This here's mine to do as I please, without your fussin', right?" 

"Y-yes." 

"Well then? You lie still and quit your worryin'." 

With that declaration, he resumed his gentle lapping, causing her to arch upward uncontrollably. Small, high-pitched sounds escaped her lips. She clung to the headboard, her body rising higher and higher. "Oh my... oh my... mercy, mercy!"

“There’s a girl. Give it to me, darlin’.” 

"Yes. Oh, yes," she breathed out, her hands digging into his scalp. "Oh, my God! Oh, dear heaven. Oh, pardon me! I'm meddling again." 

He chuckled again, the deep rumble shattering her thoughts as his mouth claimed her sensitive flesh. His tongue swirled and flicked, sparking a blaze that raced through her veins. Digging her heels into the mattress, she arched up, surrendering completely as her hips moved with his. Muscles twitching to his rhythm, the pressure built sharper and sharper within her. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his mouth surged, fiercely pulling until she fractured with a cry, sensations bursting in a kaleidoscope of colors. 

She was precious to him. 

Throughout his life, Elvis had longed for a woman to love and make his bride, but only now did he truly grasp the meaning. She was his salvation, a woman woven from delicate lace and sunbeams, with eyes as vast as the summer fields. She was warmth and radiance, the tender blossoms of spring. A beautiful and perfect gift. It felt as if he were discovering love for the first time. And in a way, it was. For Elvis Presley was a tough man with an untouched heart. Until now. 

This girl held his heart in her hands, capable of making it sing with joy or bleed with sorrow. With a single arch of her spine and a lift of her slender hips, she could ignite him with bliss. He adored her. Her guileless urgency and unwavering trust nearly moved him to tears. No reservations. Just pure vulnerability. And as she shattered in climax, he tasted the rhythm of her heartbeats in the sweet throbbing of her flesh. Afterward, he tenderly caressed and kissed her, soothing her delicate sensitivity, easing the ache that lingered. 

When her breaths steadied, he hovered right over her. With her eyelids drooping low and a dreamy smile on her lips, she looked up at him. "Are you done?" 

Elvis leaned in for a kiss. "Nah, sweetheart. I'm just lettin' ya catch yer breath afore we go at it again." 

Her eyes widened. "Again?" 

He grinned and shifted to lie beside her, propping himself up on one arm to get a good look at her face. How beautiful she was, basking in the afterglow of the pleasures he brought to her for the first time! 

Beneath him, she gasped as his finger delved deep into her slick heat, back arching, breasts straining against her thin nightgown. He watched each expression dance across her features - surprise, wonder, rising urgency. Teasing and pulling back, he brought her to the edge again and again. When she arched, nipple grazing his chin, he flicked it lightly. 

She cried out, quivering, "Oh yes!" 

Another deep stroke had her whimpering, begging for more. 

Grinning, he met her gaze. "Want me to show 'em some lovin'?"

"Oh, Elvis. Do it again. Please." 

Elvis lowered his head, gripping her nightgown with his teeth, and pulled it up her slender frame, exposing her bosom. 

Elvis' fingers trembled as he grasped the thin fabric of her nightgown, the white cotton soft like a wisp of cloud between his teeth. With a gentle tug, he peeled back the garment, exposing her bare breasts to the fire's amber glow. Rosy peaks puckered in the chill night air, beckoning his touch.

"Ask me nice, darlin'," he murmured, breath warm against her chest. 

Frustration flared in her eyes. Snatching a fistful of his hair, she wrenched him downward. "Just do it already!"

That sure as shootin' had "please" beat to hell. And he reckoned he had every right to tease her mercilessly before giving her what she desired. 

Elvis swept his tongue slowly around one taut nipple, tracing its shape, feeling it swell beneath the caress of his mouth. A flick of his tongue made her gasp, then he returned to circling, building anticipation. When he finally closed his lips over the bud, its softness overwhelmed him. He suckled gently and was rewarded with the honeyed taste of her skin. 

To his surprise, her body began to writhe, hips undulating, fingers twisting the sheets. The telltale pulsing against his palm revealed she was cresting that peak of ultimate pleasure. Twenty-one years without a lover's intimate touch, and now she came undone in his arms. 

He savored each tremor that wracked her slender frame, the way she arched and cried out with abandon. Elvis brought her to that precipice two more times, worshiping her with his mouth until his own need could be denied no longer.

Rising above her, he gripped her legs behind the knees and nestled against slick, molten heat. Still lost in rapture's haze, she gazed up with heavy-lidded eyes, oblivious to the pain that awaited. The primal urge to plunge ahead warred with his vow to cherish her. 

"This'll hurt just once, darlin'," he whispered, hating himself. "I wish to God it weren't so." 

She blinked, her gaze fixed on his face, her eyes shimmering in the warm glow of the fire. "I understand. Just hold me close through it all," she implored softly. "With you beside me, it won't hurt as much. I won't feel afraid."

Tears blurred his vision. Elvis gathered her in his arms, surrounding her with his strength. She wrapped both arms about his neck, clinging tight. "I'm not scared anymore," she breathed against his cheek.

Though brave in word, her body tensed as he positioned himself at her entrance. In that moment, he would have given all he owned to spare her even the slightest twinge. The not knowing tormented him—how much agony she might suffer as he forged ahead. With infinite care, he nudged inside, felt her passage resist and then give way as she flinched in his embrace. The small cry that escaped her lips shredded his heart.

He buried his face in the silken veil of her hair, cursing the merciless act love demanded of him. To harm the one person who mattered most gutted his soul. 

But the cabin cocooned them in its embrace—the familiar smells of woodsmoke and pine, the fire's soothing crackle, the handcrafted furnishings whispering of shared memories. Their sanctuary through so many storms past would shelter them through this too. 

"Do it," she insisted, though her body still trembled with fear.

Panic jolted through him like lightning. "Jesus, I can't! I'm hurting you!" He started to withdraw, terrified of damaging her delicate frame. She was far smaller and tighter than any woman before. The risk of forcing himself deeper made his blood run cold. "You're too small, sweetheart," he choked out.

But before he could pull away, she lifted her hips, impaling herself upon him in one swift motion. 

Elvis' heart stopped mid-beat. He felt her tight channel give way as she took him fully inside. Fear for her clouded his mind. 

"Oh, God damn," he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. A soft, fragile laugh escaped her lips, and he felt the tension gradually dissipate from her body. With a tenderness that matched the love he held in his heart, she pressed her damp cheek against his neck. The touch of her wet skin against his sent shivers down his spine. In a hushed whisper, she reassured him, her words carrying a profound truth. "It’s all right now," she murmured. "It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought." 

Pearl gasped, her back arching off the rumpled sheets. Elvis hovered above, his elbows planted on either side of her shoulders, beads of sweat trailing down his furrowed brow. His hips rocked in a steady rhythm, eliciting soft mewls and whimpers from his wife. 

"Is this okay?" His voice was gruff, laced with restraint. Pearl's eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide with desire. She nodded, breathless.

Elvis maintained his pace, relishing the slide of skin against skin. Pearl's nails raked down his back, leaving angry red trails in their wake. Her thighs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper. 

"Oh!" she cried out, the sound sharp in the quiet cabin. "Don't stop, please..."

Elvis complied, quickening his thrusts as Pearl's moans grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked to meet his, the bed frame creaking in protest. The musky scent of their lovemaking permeated the air. 

Pearl's inner walls clenched around him as her climax crashed over her. The sensation tipped Elvis over the edge, his own release pulsing through him in waves. He collapsed on top of his wife, their hearts hammering against each other. 

As their breathing slowed, Elvis nuzzled Pearl's neck, inhaling her familiar floral scent. Her fingers lazily combed through his hair. He pressed a tender kiss to her collarbone, overcome with gratitude and awe. 

No longer was he a lonesome wanderer. Pearl had become his sanctuary, a beacon guiding him home. Elvis held his wife close as sleep overtook them. The distant howl of coyotes echoed outside their cabin, but they felt no fear in each others’ arms. Here, tangled together, they had found their own private heaven.

#1849 #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fic #elvis fluff #elvis presley smut #elvis smut #elvis fandom

[honeybeefae]

For ACOTAR bingo, can I request a nsfw mating ceremony with Cassian? I love the idea of an Illyrian mating ceremony 🔥

Tradition (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Mating Ceremony

(AHHHHHH this was so much fun to write! Also, I came up with these vows all on my own and I’m kind of obsessed with it. I know Illyrians are famous for treating their women less than kind but consider this an adapted version where it’s more tender. I hope you guys enjoy it!!)

WARNINGS: Smut

“Under the moon of the Mother, I take you under my wing and into my soul.

I promise to protect and provide for you, to care for you, and to worship you every 

Morning, noon, and night. You are the wind beneath my wings, the stars that guide 

Me, and the spirit that was destined to follow mine to the ends of time. I swear this 

By the Cauldron, the Gods, and the Mother above, from this day until we 

Become anew. This I promise to you.”

The entire crowd erupted into applause as Cassian pulled you into a kiss, dipping you dramatically as you grinned into the kiss and threw your arms around his neck. You felt like you were on cloud nine and you knew your mate did as well, especially as he picked you up and spun you around. 

Rhys, who was officiating the mating ceremony, clapped both of you on the shoulders with a warm smile. The two of you turned toward your friends, your mouths holding the brightest smiles they had ever seen, before walking down the aisle that was covered in petals of roses.

You were quickly swept away into the grand reception, which you were all too happy to plan and decorate. It was a little fancier than Cassian was used to but the way you looked in your dress and how happiness just radiated off of you, he didn’t mind at all. 

Traditional Illyrian dishes as well as more modern fae meals were served to everyone, wine and other cocktails flowing freely as the two of you drank and danced the night away. As the night went on you couldn’t stop his wandering hands from getting lower, your giggles of anticipation only spurring him on. 

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that you finally called it a night. Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Az, Amren, and Mor were the only ones left as they wished you a pleasant honeymoon. You clung onto your mate as he walked with you into the open field just past the party, both of you smelling of wine and excitement.

“Shall we, my mate?” You cooed, smirking when hoisted you into his arms. He gave you another long, passionate kiss before taking off into the night sky. 

You squealed at the takeoff, the ground below you spinning before you closed your eyes and relished in the wind flowing over your body. Cassian watched you, absolutely entranced with your beauty, and felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t believe you were his. 

He swooped down as he found the small cabin made for just the two of you. It was a mating gift from Feyre and Rhys, somewhere far away from the river house which you assumed meant they knew what the two of you were going to be getting up to. 

The only sound that could be heard as you landed were crickets and your laughter as he carried you through the front door and straight to the bedroom, dropping you in the middle of the bed. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Cassian flirted, watching as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I think this might be the tenth time but I certainly won’t complain if you tell me once more.” You smile, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, not that I normally can anyway.” He murmured, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. “You are breathtaking…and all mine.”

Your heart fluttered at the low tone of his voice as you stood up to kiss him, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. The urgency grew the longer the kiss went, his hands groping your ass and needily tugging at the strings of your corset.

“I’m going to rip this damned thing off of you.” He growled into your ear, kissing your neck as you playfully hit his arm.

“Nuh-uh, this is a special dress, Cass. Give me two seconds.” You hummed, running your thumb over his pouted lips before slipping out of his arms and into the bathroom. 

It was the first time you felt like you could breathe since this morning as you took a moment to rest against the door. Collecting your thoughts, you began to hurriedly undo the ties of your dress. You and Cassian had had sex before but this time would be different, this time you were mates. 

It felt like you were going to lose your virginity all over again.

You rushed to prepare yourself, adjusting the lingerie that you hid underneath your dress. There were some supplies sitting on the bathroom counter that you used to freshen up as well. It took you all of five minutes but you knew how impatient your mate could get so when you finally emerged from the bathroom, he was already waiting with his hand raised to knock.

Shyness blossomed inside as he devoured you with his eyes, looking down at the floor and taking a deep breath. You felt two fingers come underneath your chin before your head was lifted to meet his gaze, his lips inches from yours.

“Why are you so shy?” He purred, voice dripping with sex. “Let me see you.”

After taking a small breath you took a step back, letting him see all of you. His pants were straining from how hard he already was as his nostrils flared and eyes darkened, licking his lips as he started walking towards you.

Despite yourself and your desire for him, you started staggering backward, your heart skipping as your knees hit the back of the bed. Cassian gave you a feral grin and pushed you backward gently, his body following yours as you fell onto the soft mattress. 

“Gods,” His breath ghosted over your lips while his hand trailed up your leg, catching on the garter on your upper thigh. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

“I think I’m the one who got lucky.” You whisper, cupping his face and pulling him down to connect your lips. His scruff scratched against your skin in a tantalizing way, sending a pleasant hum that went all the way to your core as his fingers got closer and closer to where you needed him most.

The scent of your arousal was already thick in the air by the time he caressed the lace of your panties, watching every expression you made as he dipped a finger in shallowly to test you out. It made you gasp, your hips moving to try to get him to push in deeper. 

“I’m going to try my very best to be gentle with you,” Cassian said while pulling your underwear down and letting it fall to the floor. “But I make no promises.”

He thrust two fingers into you slowly, making sure to flex them inside to stretch you out for his cock as you felt your entire body heating up. You bit down on your lip and groaned, breath hitching when her curled his fingers in search of that sensitive spot inside. 

“Cassian-” You gasped, the rest of the sentence dying on your lips when he finally found it. His lips latched onto your neck as he sped up his fingers, making sure to hit that spot every single time until you were already on the edge of coming undone. 

It was becoming too much, too fast, and you wanted him to slow down so that this moment wouldn’t be over so soon. However, your mate had other ideas. He could see you trying to squirm away so he placed a heavy arm on your stomach, pinning you still.

“Now, now, princess. Don’t try to get away from me.” He growled into your ear, looking down to watch his hand fuck you before back up to your face. “I want to feel you cumming all over my fingers. I want to feel that delicious pussy clench around me, feel you drench my hand and the sheets. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your toes already starting to curl as he held you down. You had no choice but to feel everything. He clicked his tongue and bit down on your ear, tugging it with his teeth. 

“I want a yes sir, princess.”

“Y-yes sir,” You whimpered, your back arching as he smirked and started using his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. It pushed you into heaven as you tightened around his fingers, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry as pleasure washed over you over and over again. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Cassian praised into your skin as he fucked you through the orgasm, moving his arm off your stomach so he could yank down the lingerie and free your breasts. He started lavishing them with his tongue, taking each nipple into his mouth to suck and bite. 

All of the attention was sending you into overstimulation and you were grateful when he removed his fingers, your eyes hazy as you watched him suck all your juices off. 

Cassian kissed you once more, quick and hungry, before raising back up to undo the ties of his pants. You could see how hard his cock was and weren’t surprised by the wet spot that had formed on his boxers, your mouth watering as he unveiled himself. 

“I love when you look at me like that.” He smirked, stroking himself a few times before climbing back over you. “I want to fuck you like this so I can see your face when I make you cum all over my cock. Do you think you can be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Yes sir.” You smile, your body still tingling from your last orgasm as he rubbed himself up and down your soaking cunt. Cassian pushed in inch by inch until he was bottomed out inside you, a full body shiver running through him from how good you felt.

His hands grabbed yours and put them above your head as he rocked into you, his wings stretched out as you arched into his thrusts. Your already lust-filled head was going into overdrive from the gentle way he was fucking you, too much and yet not enough at the same time.

There was a small spark lighting up in your chest as you stared into his eyes, both of you sharing the same breath, and when you pulled him close to whisper your dark desire that spark turned into flames.

“Please, Cassian, please just take me. Fuck me. Don’t hold back.”

Something shifted in his face as he watched you, waiting to see if you were going to change your mind, before you were suddenly lifted into the air with his hands grabbing your ass as leverage. He shoved you against the wall, the coolness a nice contrast to how hot your body was. 

“You want me to use you like this? Fuck you like a barbaric Illyrian?” He snarled, biting down on your shoulder as you cried out for him. 

“Yes, Cass, yes!” You whined, that thread in your soul slowly unwinding as both of you neared your climax. Cassian could feel it, his desperation growing each second as his wings cocooned the two of you into your own little world. 

Your nails dug into his muscled arms as you pressed your forehead against his, your chest heaving as white, hot light seemed to explode from every nook and crevice of your soul. This was unlike any orgasm you had ever felt. It felt like you were the only two alive, the only two that mattered, and for the first time you felt everything that Cassian was. 

Love. Lust. Wonder. Comfort. Mate. Mate. Mate.

He nuzzled into your neck, right where your pulse was fluttering, and inhaled deeply. It was a primal reaction to the bond and before you could blink he bit down again, a carnal urge to mark you in every way possible. 

“You’re all mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” He followed his words with sharp thrusts, his balls tightening up with the need to release. You nodded, craning your neck as he continued to bite and suck every inch of exposed skin. When you had enough mind to open your eyes, you saw just how close his wings were.

You reached out and stroked them softly, letting your nails rake down them which sent him toppling over the edge. He roared into the night, spilling himself deep within you as left a final bite right above your breast. It was raw and carnal and everything you wanted as you followed him with your third orgasm of the night, milking every last drop of his cum.

Cassian held you still on his cock until he went soft, raising his head just enough to see the marks he had left across your beautiful skin. He grinned when he saw how red and purple they were already becoming.

“I love you, Cass.” You murmured, wiping the sweat off his brow as he gingerly set you down on the floor. “More than life itself.”

“From this day until we become anew.” He echoed his vows from earlier, kissing you softly as the bond between you sang with happiness and devotion. You couldn’t believe how blessed you were to be mated with him, to be able to spend the rest of your lives with this man.

And as he gave you that smoldering look, his eyes alight with mischief, you were also thankful for how blessed he was with that insatiable appetite reserved only for you. 

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar reader smut #acotar bingo #cassian acotar smut #cassian #cassian smut #cassian x reader #cassian x reader smut #cassian acotar #cassian x reader acotar #cassian x reader acotar smut #acotar imagine #acotar imagine smut #acotar imagine reader #acotar imagine reader smut #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar smut #rhysand #feyre #amren #illyrian #smut #acotar headcanon #mating ceremony

[hana-no-seiiki]

【 PROVENANCE OF THE SUN | ZERO : ASCENSIONEM DEI NOVI 】

RISING SUN REMAKE

YANDERE! JJK! VARIOUS! x CULT GOD! READER x CULT MEMBERS

Sign up for the cult and get notified on when this updates by replying! [Taglist]

Synopsis: In the thousands of years Sorcerers have challenged curses, there was one thing they have yet to utilize. Blessings, constructed by the positive emotions of humanity such as love and adoration.

And at the center of it all was [Y/N] [L/N], ORTUS SOLIS’s biggest blessing yet.

THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF HAPPY REIGN BE THINE;

DELICATE, GLOVED HANDS combed through [hair color] tresses. Efficient in its movements; any tangled knots of hair swiftly disappeared. The chirping of birds and crickets, along with the golden luminescence of the sun breached through the glass panes and into the chambers of the dignified godling.

“May this lowly servant bask in the Sun’s glow.” Even if muffled by the doors between them. The deity knew which of their followers dared to interrupt their routine. Only few were bold — no — idiotic enough to impose.

The pampered child answered with a low volume, a heavy disinterest laced their voice, “Enter.”

RULE ON, MY LORD, UNTIL WHAT ARE PEBBLES NOW.

“This lowly servant has come to divulge the Sun with the words of the oracle.” An elderly man bursted in. Head high, he wore robes of grandeur quality; with golden embroidery upon white fabric. He stood out in the traditionally styled house. “Permission to speak?”

The pair of maids who worked on the child’s hair parted from their master. The action gave the man a full view of their entrancing form. Eyes of [eye color] gazed at him. He could already feel his limbs going weak. An overwhelming sense of exhilaration, adoration, and need to bow seeped into him. The man knew that if he had not been as exposed to the deity as he was throughout the years, their ethereality might have already made his heart stop.

The child’s eyes wandered throughout his figure. Every moment their glance lingered sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. Only for them to break their line of sight. “Permission granted.”

BY AGES UNITED TO MIGHTY ROCKS SHALL GROW.

Nay, he realized, it was not just their divine image nor scrutiny. Any sound that left from their lips would be enough to make a crowd dead where they stand, or at the very least be crippled by the paralyzing sensations of bliss. Indeed, this was the power of his Sun. None other than his lord, [Y/N].

A power he both feared and adored.

“The oracle has spoken. Due to the Queen Dowager’s unfortunate passing, the coronation shall take place soon.”

He couldn’t help but gasp as [Y/N] stood. Their full height at their age was far lesser than his, yet it was never a comfort. “How soon?”

“He said it – it would best be held next year . . . my Sun.”

Silence befell them.

Without a thought, the man kneeled. It did not matter how old or frail his body was, as soon as the warm emotions left him he knew he had offended their holy being.

“Do you have a family?”

“My Sun, p-please. You have to reconsider . . . ! “

Their frown indicated that he gave the wrong answer.

“I do not, my Sun . . . “ He bowed. His face was practically one with the floor.

“How mundane. In here I thought I’d get a show for this evening.”

He stands up in one quick motions. The crack of bones breaking and rearranging was arduous in itself to hear.

“MY SUN! MY HOLY LIGH—“

“You see, ever since that old hag died I realized — there’s no one alive that’s able to stop me from doing what I want anymore.”

“With a coronation or without. I am your god.”

“Through you, everyone will be informed. You get to die in service of a new dawn. Where would you find a better honor than this?”

The worst thing about the man’s last breath was that as agonizingly torturous his god’s rays of light were on him — he did not feel an ounce of anger or resentment.

Only unfettered, immaculate happiness.

WHOSE VENERABLE SIDES THE MOSS DOTH LINE.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk x reader #jjk x reader #yandere yuji x reader #yuji x reader #sukuna x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru #yandere megumi #megumi x reader #yandere inumaki x reader #yandere nobara x reader #nobara x reader #inumaki x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere sukuna x reader

[ambrossart]

Post Prom

summary: after leaving prom, you and eddie go to the hideout to reminisce and listen to music. one thing leads to another, and you end up going back to his trailer.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 6,320 warnings: sfw, new relationship, eddie being awkward, eddie being adorable, eddie being romantic, eddie being obsessed with his guitar, lots of fluff, two-part story

This short story is the epilogue to Dancing with Myself. For proper context, I highly suggest you read that before reading this. It's 10 chapters long and a fairly quick read.

The stars had never shone as brightly as they did that night.

You couldn’t stop staring at them as you walked out of the banquet hall with Eddie by your side, with his suit jacket draped over your bare shoulders, feeling more and more like it was always meant to be there.

“This looks better on you anyway,” Eddie had said as he offered it to you. “Just don’t get it dirty, ‘kay, or else Wayne’ll kill me. It’s his one good suit.”

“I’ll guard it with my life,” you promised, only half joking. 

And while you thought about this, while you traced your thumb along the silk lining of Wayne Munson’s one good suit jacket, while you walked and talked and stole glimpses of Eddie’s face when he wasn’t looking, you couldn’t help but smile and say to yourself,

I’m in a dream, aren’t I?

Yeah, you had to be. The stars were far too bright, and the night too calm. Cars drove up and down the road and passed by without a sound. In the wet, wet grass, crickets chirped and a single sprinkler was still sputtering with life, hissing in the dark with a quiet shhhh-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick. You could hear it so clearly as you and Eddie strolled down the covered footpath together, your shadows illuminated by the soft orange glow of the street lights overhead. Eddie had a ring of keys in his right hand. They jingled as he tossed them up, caught them, and twirled them around his index finger.

I’m in a dream, you thought, and tomorrow morning I’m gonna wake up in my bedroom, alone, with that dusty old journal sprawled open in front of me.

And this made you withdraw into yourself and go silent for a minute. Your steps got slower and slower. Your smile slipped and collapsed into a troubled frown that deepened the further you got from the banquet hall. Eddie glanced over his shoulder, saw you falling behind, then slid his keys back into his pocket.

“Buyer’s remorse?” he said with a chuckle, but there was no humor in his voice, none at all. He turned and stepped in front of you, blocking your path with his body. “Hey, y’know we don’t have to go anywhere, right? I mean, we can always go back inside or… or I can just take you home, if you want.”

Eddie muttered the last part under his breath, wincing as he did. His dark brown eyes pierced into yours, nervous and a little afraid, afraid that if he said goodbye to you right now, if he took you home, kissed you goodnight, and watched you walk through that front door, there was a small chance he might never see you again.

And you supposed that was partly your fault, so you put your hand on his chest and gave him a reassuring smile.

“No, that’s not it,” you said. “I was just thinking.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at you. “You were just… thinking?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I was just thinking.”

If this really is a dream, please, please, please don’t wake me up.

You motioned toward the parking lot. “Lead the way, sir.”

Eddie cracked a small smile. “All right,” he said, and backed away from you with a little bounce in his step. “I’m, uhh, over here, so…”

You weaved through the crowded parking lot and found Eddie’s 1979 Chevy Nomad parked alone on the west end between a dying tree and a flickering lamppost. You held in a laugh. Oh jeez, you thought, of course he parks in the sketchiest spot he can find. If Ted Bundy had a reserved parking space in Hawkins, this would be it. It practically screamed, Yeah, you’re about to get napped.

Eddie seemed to notice this, too. He lingered by your side for a minute, then reached up to scratch his head. “Uhhh… there were other cars around when I parked here, just for the record.”

You looked up at him, fighting back a smile. “I wasn’t gonna say anything…”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed into a playful glare. “Yeah, you were.”

He went and opened the passenger-side door, and you busted out laughing when you saw his guitar case propped neatly against the front seat. This didn’t shock you nearly as much as it should have. If anything, you were more surprised that Eddie hadn’t strapped it safely into place with a seatbelt.

“So you let your guitar ride shotgun, huh?”

“Well, she is a lady,” Eddie replied, making you giggle.

“So, what, should I go sit in the back like cargo? Or do you wanna just rope me to the hood like a Christmas tree?”

Eddie leaned against the side of his van. “No, I’d never do that to you…” Then, with a self-amused smirk: “You can just hold her on your lap.”

Your eyes flattened into a hard line. Very funny, your eyes said.

Eddie chuckled quietly to himself, then stepped away from the van. “Just kidding, I’ll move her.”

Effortlessly, he lifted the guitar out of the front seat and put it in the back with the rest of his equipment, setting the instrument down on the floor with great care. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said while stroking the top of its case. “You’re still my number one girl, okay?”

You rolled your eyes and climbed into the front seat. As soon as you sat down, something small poked your butt, making you jump up in surprise. It was a guitar pick, one of many scattered about Eddie’s van. You were finding them everywhere: under your feet, on the dashboard, in the ashtray, even wedged in the crack of the center console. You dug one out with your fingernail and threw it into the glove compartment.

“You know, you really need to clean out your van,” you said to Eddie as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Uhh, yeah,” he said, “I’ve been meaning to get to that for about two years now.”

He closed the door and flashed you a charming smile.

“So… where would you like to go?”

“You didn’t have a place in mind when you asked me?”

“Honestly? No… I was kinda expecting you to say no.”

You both laughed. Then you looked away and caught your reflection in the side-view mirror. It felt so strange, being there. You had fantasized about sitting in this van at least a hundred times. Now here you were, digging plastic guitar picks out of your seat (you found another one and flicked it away). It was even better than you imagined.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” you said, giving Eddie a shy smile. “You can pretty much take me anywhere.”

“Anywhere,” Eddie repeated slowly, his brown eyes locked with yours. “That’s… very unhelpful.”

Smiling, he leaned back in his seat and thought about it for a minute. His right hand went up to rest on the steering wheel. His index finger started tapping rhythmically against it. In the silence, you were swiveling around in your chair. Eddie caught you out of the corner of his eye and laughed.

“Having fun over there?”

“Yeah,” you said while moving back and forth. “I like the swivel.”

“The swivel is fun,” Eddie said. “The swivel is fun…”

Then, slowly, his whole face lit up.

“I got it,” he said. “I know where we can go.”

He started the van and put it in reverse.

Soon after, Eddie was pulling up in front of the old auto parts store on the corner of Main and Oak.

The building was basically dilapidated at this point. The grass along the side was patchy and full of weeds. The blue exterior was badly faded, chipped, and covered with graffiti. In the large storefront window, beneath a tattered and weather-worn awning, a marquee reader board was still advertising a sale on tires from 1966. If not for the row of cars and motorcycles parked along the curb, if not for the music pouring out onto the street, you would have thought this was just another abandoned building.

Eddie got out first, walked around the front of the van, then opened the passenger-side door.

“Ready?” he said to you, his eyes shimmering with childlike excitement.

You went inside and were instantly transported to the 1950s… or at least Cliff Kozack’s twisted, apocalyptic vision of the 1950s. Old Halloween decorations lined the shelves: coffins, skulls, cobwebs (those were real, though; Cliff kept them because they matched his aesthetic—or he was just too lazy to dust). Guitars hung from the ceiling and fell occasionally, landing behind unsuspecting patrons with a startling thwack! Famous faces were plastered across the walls: Elvis Presley, Connie Francis, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, Sam Cooke, Ritchie Valens. All the chrome finishes were dull and rusted in the corners. The black-and-white checkered floor was grimy and sticky with spilled beer that nobody had ever bothered to mop up. In the corner, propped beside a dusty, broken jukebox that only played one song: “Rockin’ Robin” by Bobby Day (and God help you if you played that song), a skeleton dressed in a leather jacket was gesturing toward a sign that spelled out the night’s drink specials.

Except there were no drink specials, just cheap beer and booze.

Cliff poured a beer, slid it across the bar, and then saw you and Eddie walk in through the front door. His eyes widened in horror.

“Quick,” he said to one of his bartenders, “what day is it today?”

“Uhh… Saturday.”

“Saturday.” Cliff closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh. “God, I was really hoping I got my days mixed up.”

Then he poured himself a shot of bourbon.

Two, actually.

One for you and one for Eddie.

He slammed them back in two gulps.

Meanwhile, you and Eddie were heading into the lounge just off the main bar, where a psychobilly trio called the Killer Elvises was performing on stage. Their hair was greased and styled into matching pompadours. The lead singer plucked an upright double bass that was almost as tall as he was. And they played the kind of snarling, thrashing music that made you want to get up and punch someone in the face for no reason at all. You had been there for less than a minute and Eddie was already getting revved up.

“God, I love these guys,” he said, shouting over the music.

You two were making your way to a table in the back. It was your table, the one you sat at every Tuesday night. Eddie wanted to sit there specifically. He insisted on it.

“Y’know the lead singer used to only play classical music? Wasn’t even allowed to listen to anything else. Yeah, I guess his parents were like these super-religious zealots or something.”

You looked toward the stage, where the lead singer was currently singing about drinking blood under the full moon and having sex with a werewolf.

“Well, I’m sure his parents are very proud of him now.”

Eddie glanced back at you, a smile crawling up the side of his face. “Yeah. Probably.”

Then he pointed toward a table tucked away in the corner of the lounge, half hidden behind a massive stone pillar. From the stage, you could barely even see it.

“That it?” Eddie asked. You nodded and said it was.

You sat down and made yourself comfortable while Eddie stole the seat across from you. Then he propped his elbow on the table and laid his chin on his palm, gazing at you with his big brown eyes.

“So, uh, this is your table, huh? And, what, you would sit in that spot?”

You looked around you. “Uhh, yeah, pretty much… I mean, it’s not the exact spot, but—”

“Well, hold on,” Eddie said, “I’m pretty sure I asked for the full experience, so…”

He made a "go on" motion with his hand. In return, you made a funny face.

“Seriously?” you said.

Eddie nodded, his eyes soft and affectionate. “C’mon, humor me.”

You looked away, feeling all the blood rush to your face, then slowly got up and dragged your stool a couple more inches to the right. When you sat down again and turned your body ever so slightly, you had a completely unobstructed view of the stage.

“There,” you said in a flustered voice. “Happy now?”

But Eddie didn’t answer you, not for a long while. He kept staring at you, then at the stage, then back at you, his eyes darkening more and more with each pass. During this time, the Killer Elvises had transitioned to a slower, almost bluesy style. You were thankful for that. Otherwise, you might not have heard Eddie when he said,

“Hey, how many times did you come here?”

You shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Guess.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Eddie’s abruptness made you a little uneasy.

“I dunno,” you said. “Twenty, maybe thirty times.”

Eddie dropped his head into his hand and cursed.

Your eyes widened. “What?” you said. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Eddie rubbed his face in frustration. “Yeah, well, it’s a pretty big goddamn deal to me,” he said, sounding angry, but not at you. “Thirty times, Y/N, and that’s probably a modest estimate. You came to watch me thirty times, and I never noticed you. Never. Not once. How the hell did I not notice you?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. This time, they felt a little heavy.

“I guess you just weren’t looking,” you said, and Eddie stared at you with a guilty, helpless expression.

“Yeah, I was,” he said under his breath.

Then—

WHAM!

Two huge fists slammed onto the table, making you both jump.

“Well, well, well,” said Cliff, bringing his face down to your level, “look who’s here…”

“Hi, Cliff,” you said. “Hey, congratulations, by the way. You’ve got a real packed house tonight. I think there’s like fifty people here.”

Cliff’s lips curled into a hard, unamused smile.

“Hey, man, I keep telling you to get a sign for this place—”

“I don’t want a sign,” Cliff said to you. “Signs attract pests, and I’m still trying to get rid of the two I currently have.”

His eyes went to you, then to Eddie, then back to you.

“Hey, we’re like your only regulars… us and the guy that likes to sleep in that booth over there.” You gestured toward him with your chin. “You know, someone should really check on him soon ‘cause I haven’t seen him move in a while.”

“No, I kicked him a few minutes ago. He’s fine.” Then to Eddie, Cliff said, “I see you finally found your number-one fan. You know, she comes in here every Tuesday. Every Tuesday. The other night, I thought she was gonna start a bar fight.”

“Really?” Eddie gave you an impressed look that made you feel embarrassed.

You put both your hands on the table and sat up as tall as you could. “Hey, that’s… that’s not even…” With a huff, you sank back down and muttered under your breath, “I was trying to listen to the music. They wouldn’t stop talking.”

Cliff’s chest rose and fell with hearty laughter. “You hear that?” he said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “She was trying to listen to the music,” and for some reason that made Eddie smile and chuckle to himself.

Once Cliff returned to the bar, you turned to Eddie and said, “What, is that like an inside joke or something?”

Eddie was still smiling. “No, it’s just…” He pointed across the lounge. “You see that table over there?”

“Yeah… What about it?”

“When I was younger, my dad used to bring me here a lot. Yeah, he would, uhh, just drop me off here while he went and did… well… whatever he did.” He shrugged it off like it didn’t matter. “Anyway, I’d sit at that table… at that table… for hours and hours, just watching these guys play and wishing I could be as good as them one day. And, yeah, I would get really annoyed whenever people talked during my favorite parts.”

Now you were smiling, too. “That’s… really cute, actually,” and you both went quiet and listened to the band play for a while.

Halfway through the fourth song, while you watched the musician’s tattooed fingers fly across the frets of his hollow-body guitar, you couldn’t help but say, “He’s really good.”

Eddie said, “He’s very good…”

You glanced to your left and caught him watching the guitarist in silent awe, his mouth hanging open, eyes racing to keep up with every movement of the man’s fretting hand.

Stifling a giggle, you said, “You are green with envy right now.”

“I am…”

“You’re gonna go home and practice for like three hours, aren’t you?”

“Oh, at least,” Eddie said, giving you an adorable smile.

That’s when Cliff’s partner decided to drop by for a friendly little chitchat. The buxom brunette strutted up to your table with an empty drink tray and pressed it against her chest while she observed you and Eddie with a tender, motherly expression.

“Awww, well aren’t you two just the sweetest thing, sitting here all cozied up and adorable… I feel like I’ve been waiting half my life for this day to come.”

Cleo tossed you a girlish, not-so-well-hidden smile (Wow, you thought, it’s a miracle my secret lasted this long), then turned to Eddie and said, “You know, she’s been coming here every Tuesday for the last… God, I don’t even know… probably about three ye—”

Panic seized you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie’s lips twitch upwards, curling into a cocky smile.

You squeezed your eyes shut and blurted out, “Yeah, he knows, Cleo! He knows. How ‘bout you go get us some drinks?”

Cleo brushed you off with a laugh. “Oh fine, oh fine…” She lowered the tray to her side. “What can I get you two lovebirds?”

Eddie said, “I’ll just have a beer.”

And you said, “I’ll have a rum and Coke, with muddled cherries, garnished with cherries and some sugar around the rim. Make sure Cliff really grinds those suckers down, too. I don’t wanna see a bunch of cherry chunks floating around my glass.”

Cleo looked at you both tiredly, her lips gathering into a tight, uncomfortable smile. “Yeah… that’s gonna get old real quick.” Then she sighed and went back to the bar.

As soon as she was gone, Eddie looked at you and said, “Three years? Did I hear that right?”

You shook your head. “No, not three years. Nowhere near three years.”

There were, you were fairly sure, at least two occasions where you chose to stay home.

Because you were sick.

You immediately changed the subject: “So, anyway, when are you guys getting a new lead singer?”

“Nice segue,” Eddie said. Then: “Shit, I dunno, man… after Scottie got locked up, it just didn’t feel right to replace him. Plus we couldn’t find anyone, so…”

“I’ll do it,” you said. 

Eddie squinted at you. “Can you sing?”

“No… but neither can Scottie.”

Eddie laughed. “Fair enough.”

Then you leaned onto your elbows and said, “Any idea when he’s getting out?”

“Uhh…” Eddie stretched out his arms while he thought about it, rolled some of the tightness out of his neck and shoulders. “I think he gets released in like three months.”

“Damn,” you said. “Hard to believe it’s almost been a year.”

You suddenly remembered the last time you saw Scott Sloman. It was a few months before he graduated. Scottie came up to you after school and said he needed a favor.

God, he’s an idiot…

Who?

No one. Never mind.

You shook the memory away. “Shit, man, let that be a lesson: don’t go speeding through a school zone with a bunch of pot in your car. What the hell was he thinking, anyway?”

Eddie nodded slowly, his eyes taking on a distant sheen. “Yeah…”

And now, as you looked at him, a terrifying thought crossed your mind. It made your heart sick with dread. 

“That could’ve been you,” you said, and Eddie’s gaze plummeted to the floor.

Just then, a shiver rolled through you. You pulled Wayne's jacket tighter against you and tried not to think about that anymore.

“Okay, sweeties,” said Cleo as she returned with a tray of drinks. “I have one Shirley Temple with a side of maraschino cherries.” She set down a highball and a shot glass, then reached for the last glass on her tray. “And for you, sir… one Coke. Can I get you anything else?”

Eddie scowled at his beverage. “Where’s my beer?”

“Uhh, waiting for you to turn twenty-one.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and brought the glass to his lips. “Like I don’t drink already…”

And Cleo said, “Not in my bar, you don’t.”

She turned and walked away, but before she got too far, Eddie called out to her again: “Hey, Cleo, can we get some wings?”

Cleo looked back at him and sneered. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Meanwhile, you chucked a maraschino cherry at Eddie’s head.

“What?” Eddie said to you with a mischievous smirk. “I just want some wings…” and he tipped his head to the side, dodging the next cherry you fired his way. “Hey, where’d you come up with that, anyway?”

“I dunno, I panicked,” you said. “I thought I’d been found out, and I needed to throw you off my scent.”

“With blueberry wings?”

“Blueberry barbecue wings, actually.”

“Yeah, what is that? Is that a real flavor or did you just make that up?”

“No, it’s real… I think.” You seriously considered it for a minute, then shrugged. “Yeah, I imagine it having this smoky-sweet kinda flavor. I’ve never had it before, but I feel like it’d be really delicious… that or really disgusting. Either way, I’d like to try it once before I die.”

“Noted,” Eddie said, and reached into your shot glass full of cherries.

Your jaw dropped as you watched him put the fruit between his teeth and gently, so gently, pluck it off the stem.

“Hey, you know how they say, umm, people who can tie cherry stems with their tongues are automatically good kissers? Yeah, turns out there is zero evidence to support any kind of correlation between the two. I mean, obviously, you must have pretty good muscle coordination to tie a cherry stem with only your tongue, but that says very little about how good you are at kissing. Yeah, it really just means you have a skilled…”

You closed your mouth, snatched your drink, and washed the rest of that sentence down your throat.

Eddie watched you, a smile tugging at his lips. “Makes sense,” he said. Then, in a low voice: “Can you do it?”

You set down your glass and wiped your lips. “Do what?”

“Tie a cherry stem with your tongue.”

You gulped. “Umm… I’ve never really tried, honestly, but probably not. I’m very not very coordinated in general, so I wouldn’t expect that skill to transfer.”

Eddie nodded. “I see,” he said while stealing another cherry from your glass. Before popping it into his mouth, he looked right at you and said, “Well, I can.”

Your whole body flushed. “H’okay…” you said as your mind raced with a million unbidden thoughts. You reached for your glass again and—“Hey, here’s a fun fact: did you know that grenadine isn’t actually made from cherries? It’s made from pomegranates.”

“That is a fun fact,” Eddie replied with an amused smile. “You wanna hear another fun fact?”

“Tell me.”

“Your face is about as red as your drink right now.” Eddie propped his chin on his fist and raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Fun fact.”

Your blush deepened. “Oh,” you said.

Then you looked down at the table and thought, God strike me down, I’m a filthy fucking pervert.

The band stopped playing around twelve-thirty. Afterward, the members packed up their instruments and returned to the lounge to drink and play cards with a few of Cliff’s off-the-clock employees. By then, most of the Saturday night crowd had already moved on, leaving only Cliff’s regular clientele: some college kids, a couple bikers, but mostly just a bunch of old guys that wanted to drink quietly at the bar and be left alone. Those were Cliff’s favorite kind of people. He kept their glasses full and they kept to themselves. They were the perfect patrons.

Then there was the Munson kid.

“Hey…” Eddie came up to the bar and started drumming his hands on the counter. “Just outta curiosity, who do you have up next?”

“Nobody,” Cliff said while he cleaned the soda gun. “Nobody else signed up.”

“Interesting,” said Eddie. He reached into his pocket and slammed two twenty-dollar bills on the counter. “How much time will that get me?”

Cliff glanced at the meager offering. “Five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” God, that greedy bastard. Eddie threw his head back and groaned an all-too-familiar groan. “C’mon, man, I’m trying to impress a girl here.”

In response, Cliff pressed his massive palms onto the counter, leaned forward, and gave Eddie an intense, unblinking stare.

“You’re trying to impress a girl?”

“Yep.”

“That girl?”

“Mhm.”

Cliff exhaled deeply through his nose. “Okay, kid, lemme tell you a little something about that girl. She comes in here every Tuesday just to watch your shitty band play shitty music. When you guys suck, she gives me hell for it. She says I need to invest in a better sound system.”

“Well,” Eddie muttered under his breath, “you do need a better sound system. That thing’s a piece of shit.”

Cliff arched his eyebrow, daring him to continue. Eddie waved his hands in surrender and stopped talking.

“What I’m saying is… I dunno how the hell you did it, kid, but clearly you’ve already done enough to impress her.”

Cliff’s words sank in deep, making Eddie’s heart feel warm and full. He leaned against the bar and observed you for a moment, while you sat and sipped your drink at the table (and probably, secretly, tried to tie a few cherry stems with your tongue, just to see if you could do it). Then he turned back to Cliff with a huge smile.

“Yeah, but I still kinda wanna do it, so…” Eddie placed his finger on the stack of paper bills and slid it further across the counter. “How much?”

Cliff sighed and slapped his hand over the cash. “Okay, Romeo, you’ve got twenty minutes.”

Eddie pumped his fist in victory, spun around, and went marching back to your table.

“Hey,” he said once he reached you, “wanna be my roadie?”

Your eyes were skeptical, but also curious. “Sure.”

And now Eddie was dragging the guitar strap over his head while you sat on the stage with your legs dangling over the edge, barefooted, your heels resting beside you. He switched on his amp and reached into his back pocket, pulling out yet another plastic guitar pick. It thrummed gently against the steel strings as he played a few random chords, making sure his instrument was still in tune.

“Just out of curiosity,” you said, “how many guitar picks do you have on you at any given time?”

“Uhh, at least two,” Eddie replied with his head bent over his guitar. “Yeah, never know when I’m gonna need one.”

“Right,” you said, “I guess you never know when someone’s gonna ask you to bust out a wicked guitar solo.”

Eddie chuckled a little at that. “Well, it hasn’t happened yet, but…” He looked over at you and smiled a sweet smile. “All right, crazy, name your song.”

“Any song?”

“Any song.”

Wow, talk about pressure. You clapped your hands together and brought them to your lips in thought.

And you thought.

And you thought.

And you thought some more.

Finally, after a minute of silence, Eddie leaned over and said, “Okay, remember we’ve only got twenty minutes here.”

“Fifteen now,” Cliff hollered from the bar, and Eddie gave you a look that said, Hurry up.

“Okay, okay,” you said. “Ummm… Oh—”

“Can’t do ‘Free Bird.’”

Your mouth snapped shut, and you frowned. “Why? You can’t play it?”

“No,” said Eddie, a little insulted by your accusation. “No, I can definitely play it. Easily, actually. I’m just not allowed to play it. That’s the problem.” He started scratching his chin, a nostalgic smile consuming his face. “See, uhhh, when I first learned that song, I played it nonstop for like three weeks straight, drove everyone here crazy… so, yeah, if I play that song right now, Cliff’s gonna throw us both out.”

You laughed. “Okay, then—”

“Same goes for ‘Stairway to Heaven.’”

“Wow,” you said. “Way to ruin every good guitar song for me, Munson.”

“Hey, trust me, there are plenty of better guitar songs out there. You just have terrible taste in music.”

“I do not have terrible taste in music!”

“Well, your favorite band’s Journey, so…”

You made a sharp, stabbing motion with your finger. “Hey, watch it, pal. If you’re gonna turn this into another Journey hatefest, then I’m just gonna…” but you couldn’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, not while Eddie was staring at you like that, his eyes practically sparkling under the stage lights.

You turned around and laid your hands on your lap. Then, after a brief moment of careful deliberation, you said, “I wanna hear ‘Hotel California,’ and I want you to put some soul into it, Munson.”

When Eddie didn’t answer, you looked over your shoulder and saw him rubbing the back of his neck in contemplation.

You sighed, dejected. “What, you’re not allowed to play that song, either?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, no… just, uhhh, gimme a second, okay? It’s been a couple years since I played that one.”

He put his guitar pick between his lips and thought hard about it for a moment, humming the melody under his breath, miming the chord progressions with his fingers until they felt just right. Once he finally had it, he took the pick out of his mouth and positioned it over the strings.

“Okay,” he said to you, “get ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” you said… and your mouth fell open as soon as Eddie strummed the first chord, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the strings.

The slow, haunting twang of his electric guitar sent chills down your spine and made your skin prickle with goosebumps. All of a sudden, you were twelve again, sitting alone in a dark and crowded auditorium while some strange boy played a terrible cover of Judas Priest’s “Rock Forever.”

The kid sucked. God, did he suck. And, worst of all, he didn’t even seem to realize it. He was playing like he was the headlining act on a rock ‘n’ roll tour, like everyone in the audience had paid hundreds of dollars just to watch him perform. You could hardly contain your laughter. It was cracking you up all night: while Chrissy’s dad drove you home, while you gave your parents a painfully descriptive play-by-play in the living room, while you tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep because you couldn’t stop thinking about that hilariously awful performance.

Except by then you weren’t laughing anymore. You were too busy picturing that boy’s face, and his eyes… mostly his eyes… those deep, deep brown eyes, the brownest eyes you had ever seen. Every time he played his guitar, they took on this focused yet far-off look, like he was a million miles away.

Those deep, distant brown eyes left you speechless even now.

“Wow, Munson,” you said when he was finished, “you’re like my own personal jukebox.”

It was a silly throwaway joke, not even remotely funny, but for some reason it made Eddie stop everything he was doing and stare at you for a moment, his eyes dazed and blinking, as if he suddenly couldn’t remember where he was.

“What?” you said.

“Uhh, nothing,” Eddie replied, “just a little déjà vu, I guess.”

He gave his head a couple quick shakes and raised his guitar again, his movements awkward and clumsy as his hands struggled to find their natural grip. “Uhh… next song? This one’ll probably be the last, so think carefully, okay? You really gotta make this one count.”

“Okay,” you said, but you already knew what song you were choosing. Yeah, you had made that decision about four nights ago when Cliff cruelly pulled the plug on Eddie’s Tuesday night performance.

You stole one glimpse of his shirt and said with the brightest smile, “‘Prowler’ - Iron Maiden.”

Eddie closed his eyes and sighed deeply, blissfully, then turned to you with an adoring look on his face.

“You’re welcome,” you said. “Have fun, sir.”

You were both smiling as you and Eddie left the bar together, the night sky hovering high above you, twinkling with a thousand stars.

Eddie carried his guitar and his amp and hauled them into his van. Then he reached back for the small bundle of cords you held in your arms.

“So, did you have a good time?” he asked.

“I did,” you said. “Yeah, it’s always fun pissing off Cliff.”

“Yeah…” Eddie glanced back at you. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

Then he pulled the sliding door closed and leaned against it, staring at you with a gentle expression that made your heart speed up a little. You wondered when Eddie was going to make a move. You wondered if he was going to make a move. You wondered if you were being too presumptuous in assuming that he was going to make a move. Then you wondered if you were wondering about this too much and finally slumped down beside him, your back squeaking against the filthy van door.

“Shit,” you said, “I definitely just got this jacket dirty.”

You peeled away from the van and turned around, guiltily displaying your back to Eddie. 

“Is it bad?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

Great, you thought, and leaned against the van again.

“I’ll pay to have it dry cleaned.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I’ll take all the blame… Yeah, I don’t want Wayne hating you before he even meets you.”

And that made you grin—a stupid, happy grin.

“I think he’ll really like you, by the way.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “Really?”

“No,” Eddie replied dully. “No, he'll definitely think you're annoying.”

For that, you clobbered his shoulder with your fist. Eddie absorbed the blow, laughing as he did.

“God, always so violent,” he said, pretending to rub the pain out of his shoulder. “You know, if you’re looking for an excuse to touch me, you can just…”

Eddie closed his mouth and looked away, then started pensively clucking his tongue behind his teeth: click, cluck, click, cluck.

The sound reminded you of a ticking clock steadily counting down the minutes.

One-o-eight.

One-o-nine.

One-ten.

The night was finally nearing its end. Now you and Eddie were standing at a literal and metaphorical crossroads, its intersection marked with a tiny green sign. It sat smugly on a rusted metal pole and presented you with two options: you could keep going straight down Main Street or make a sharp right turn onto Oak.

Main Street was the logical and more dependable choice. The road was recently paved and brightly lit, dotted with all kinds of trees, flowers, shrubs, and these cozy little wooden benches that sat so neatly on the freshly cut grass. It was a nice road, a scenic road, a road that gradually led onto Cherry Street, then Maple Street, and finally, safely, brought you to your house. You and Eddie would sit in his van for a few minutes, enjoying the awkward yet wonderful silence, and then he would lean across the seat and give you a kiss—a chaste, gentleman’s kiss.

All in all, not a bad way to end prom night. In fact, you thought it sounded rather romantic.

Sweet.

Innocent.

Then there was the other street: Oak Street. Oak, with that hard, hard K. You couldn’t see all the way down that street, not from where you were standing, but you knew it eventually turned into Cornwallis. And you knew Cornwallis… yeah, you knew that road very well. That road was older, cracked and covered with potholes. It was the road where your tire had blown out while you were driving back from a party at Sattler’s Quarry. You and Chrissy had to hike a mile to Benny’s Burgers and ask Benny to borrow his phone. And the whole time you kept thinking, I’m never, ever driving on this road again.

Yeah, Cornwallis was a bad road, a dangerous road. It went on for miles and miles, winding through steep hills and giant pockets of dark, dense forest. And if you weren’t very careful, you might accidentally… inevitably… make a wrong turn and find yourself flying straight down Kerley Road.

… towards the Forest Hills Trailer Park.

Oh shit, you thought. That is a very tempting road.

You sucked in a shaky breath as your knees trembled with indecision.

Meanwhile, Eddie had pushed off the side of the van and went reaching into his pocket for his keys.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice husky with regret. “I should probably—”

You put your hand on Eddie’s heart and felt it jump at your touch.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you said, “not yet.”

Eddie’s eyes widened for a second, then softened with a warm, hazy glow. He leaned into your palm, into you, and murmured against your lips,  

“I don’t wanna take you home.” 

⏩ part two

DWM MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

#stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x dwm!reader #dwm short #dancing with myself #dwm #ambrossart

[mochidoie]

one true love - na jaemin

listen to: symphony no. 2 in E minor, op. 27: iii. adagio by sergei rachmaninoff, royal concertgebouw orchestra, vladimir ashkenazy genre: fluff, hopelessly in love prince!jaemin wc: 715 warnings: written in lowercase only

there you are: spinning in the arms of another and the end of your massive ball gown catching glimmer of the chandeliers above. your painted smile is all a show for the entire ballroom to feast on and you're wondering when this song will end.

in the crowd, your eyes lock with prince jaemin immediately and he doesn't shy away from your dazed stare. he marvels back, bidding you a gentle grin before the prince in your arms calls for your attention.

"you stare with admiration in your eyes, my boy." jaemin's mother whispers and slyly taps the back of his hand after witnessing the exchange in looks.

jaemin does not draw his focus away for you, center of the ballroom and breathtakingly stealing the show. "is it obvious, mother?" he chuckles, rolling his lips together and hungry for a turn to dance with you.

but not here. not where there are too many gawking eyes and envious suitors. he wishes for a dance under the moonlight, where the only spectacles would be the stars and the trees. a time where only he can see that beautiful smile of yours brightly on your face.

"i'm your mother. anything you do is obvious to me." she touches up the bang on his forehead and he looks over, seeking guidance from the only person he knew to ever find a true love.

"what should i do?"

"you should stop being cowardly and get your dance." his lungs are full of confidence and he hurries to catch you before another prince can ask for your hand. jaemin practically slides across the floor, clumsily standing right before your widen expression.

"prince jaemin-"

"may we dance?" he says, breathlessly, and extends his palm out for your taking. your heart drums at the grand offer and you simply nod, following him out to the courtyard where you two usually meet.

eagerly, you two find yourself in a more comfortable position compared to the rest of the princes you danced with this evening. his hand is placed delicately on your upper back and he intertwines your fingers high in the sky.

the moonlight is enough to illuminate the two of you, as you're both softly swaying to the sound of crickets and the light breeze. there is no music, but there doesn't need to be with jaemin. he is the only person in this entire kingdom that doesn't need distracting gimmicks to fall right into him.

"seeing you dance with all the ones that do not deserve you, it really did not settle well with me." jaemin speaks in a hush, as if disrupting the night with any decibel higher. your cheek lays on his chest and the sound of jaemin's heart play a soft tune for you. it's quick, but steady.

"well, what took you so long then?" you snicker, peering up at him with eyes full of wonder and curiosity.

he clears his throat, looking away and up at the stars. when he looks back down at you, the stars had found themselves a new place to shine. it's the first time you've seen such a twinkle in someone else's eyes. "princess, it would be disrespectful of me to not wait my turn as much as i wanted to sweep you away."

"ah, you're a fair prince." you giggle and jaemin only wishes to hear it again.

"i am also a patient one, i would wait a lifetime for you." you both come to a halt as the atmosphere between the two of you grow serious and full of love.

he has fallen silent under your intense gaze, "my dear, a lifetime is far too long to wait for someone."

however, he disputes it. "a lifetime to wait for one's true love is worth every second." and in this very moment, as jaemin holds you under the night sky and the bustling indoors only grow louder, you can hear your heart in your ears so loudly.

in this very moment, you fall so deeply in love with the prince before you. with the man who looks at you with twinkling stars in his pupils and a graceful smile, the man who loves you as deeply. the love that burns in your chest feels true and solely exists with prince jaemin.

#nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream #nct fluff #nct drabbles #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenario #na jaemin scenarios #nct scenario #nct blurbs

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Run Little Rabbit (Ghost Oneshot)

Summary: After Swiss makes his intentions known for his feelings of possessiveness to Y/n with surprising results he finds himself in a cat and mouse game with her for show of dominance.

Prompt: Part 2 of 'Possess Me' since you wanted a part two! Here you go! @holyhalin

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As the vibrant hues of the setting sun danced upon the horizon, casting a warm golden glow, the air grew crisp and cool, signaling the arrival of a blissful autumn evening. Nature's paintbrush had transformed the world around, adorning the trees with fiery shades of red, orange, and yellow. The leaves, now kissed by the gentle breeze, fluttered down gracefully, creating a carpet of rustling whispers beneath her feet.

Y/n strolled along the winding path, embraced by the earthy aroma of fallen leaves, mingling with the faint scent of wood smoke from the distant bonfire that was going on nearby shy of Primo's Greenhouse. The daylight gradually waned, allowing the stars to peek through the emerging twilight, casting their celestial sparkle upon the ever-darkening canvas above.

A symphony of sounds greeted her ears as she ventured deeper into the heart of this enchanting evening. The chirping of crickets resonated softly, while the occasional hoot of an owl echoed through the nearby woods. The gentle rustle of small creatures scurrying about, preparing for the coming cold, added to the captivating melody of nature.

The girl found solace in the rhythm of her own footsteps, each one a gentle percussion upon the earth. The cool breeze teased her cheeks, whispering secrets of the changing season as it rustled through the branches overhead. She paused for a moment, basking in the tender embrace of the autumn evening, letting the world around her wash away any lingering worries.

Ahead, was the bonfire where poles with fairy lights were constructed by the Greenhouse that held the majority of the Abbey's gathered Clergy for the annual Halloween party. It beckoned her with the inviting glow of its warm lights spilling out into the forest. A tantalizing aroma of fresh hot cocoa, smores, and cinnamon-laced pastries wafted through the air, enticing her senses. The comforting chatter of the other siblings around carried a sense of camaraderie and shared stories.

With a smile, Y/n stepped through the treeline into the light of the fire. The light around her revealed her outfit of choice costume for this year; a skin-tight body suit that was white as the snow, long-sleeved with a hood that contained loppy bunny ears. It wasn't the sluttiest outfit among her peers but she hadn't dressed up for them; only one person in particular that her eyes sought for in the crowd of mingling Clergy. Her friends embraced her with their welcoming calls of hello as she passed by and she gave a sweet smile of greeting to them in return as she headed for the refreshments table.

As she poured herself a foam cup of hot cocoa to stave off the chill of the autumn night she felt a presence behind her. It was familiar and the feeling of eyes on her was intense; like a dark predatory sizing up their catch. But when she looked over her shoulder her smile dropped when she looked up at Kenneth instead of who she thought was behind her.

"Kenneth. Hello." she greeted him formally as she eyed his choice of costume.

He was dressed up as a vampire, with fake fangs, a cape, and slicked-back hair to boot. He eyed her skimpy outfit and smirked as he grabbed himself a cookie from a tray near her.

"You look good enough to eat." his tone was friendly enough but Y/n wasn't stupid; ever since the whole debacle with Swiss and Aether months prior he had kept his distance but his distaste for her and for the ghouls had ramped up.

"And you look like every other fake vampire with poor taste in costume. Vampire, how original, Kenneth." she replied with a sugar-sweet smile; to anyone else around them they would think the pair were just flirting with each other. But that was far from the case.

"At least I'm not dressed like a whore." he piped up with a sneer and Y/n's nostrils flared up at the insult even as she tried to keep her smile on her face.

"Well, at least I can take rejection." she replied back before shoving her way past him knocking shoulders with him and causing him to drop his cookie with a curse.

Seething at the insult, Y/n looked around at the gathered siblings and spotted the ghouls off to one side; they were dressed head to toe in costumes that hid most of their features from any prying eyes but it wasn't hard to figure out who was who.

Dewdrop was dressed up as a plague doctor with a matching bird beak mask and cane, Aether was dressed like a gladiator with a helmet on hiding half his face and carrying around a sword that looked far too real to be fake, Rain looked like some kind of modern pirate with an eye patch and a bandana wrapped around his neck and a sleeveless top with tight pants on, Mountain resembled something like reminded her of either an ancient shaman or medicine man with an animal skull on his face, and Swiss...swiss looked utterly delicious in an evil ringmaster costume on with the cane, tophat, and long-tailed coat over his vest.

Y/n had to look away from the man's intense stare as she came up to them with a smile. "Well, look at all of you guys!" she smiled placing her hands on her hips and examining each of them in turn.

"Aw, you look so cute Y/n!" Rain chirped with a smile as he eyed her outfit of choice. "Cute bunny costume."

"Thank you! It was a last-minute change, I was going to be a witch but..." she eyes traveled back to Swiss, a teasing glint in them that had him clenching his jaw. "I thought being a bunny suited me better."

"Well, watch out for the Brothers here, a few of them had too much to drink from the spiked punch; they'd eat you up alive in that costume. Not much left to the imagination there, sweat pea." Aether chuckled as he caught the look between his friends.

"Oh I can handle myself just fine Aeth. But thank you for the warning." the girl smiled and turned around with a hop to show them the back. "Look, I even have a little tail." she wiggled her butt, the fluffy white tail of the bunny costume wiggling with it.

"Adorable." Mountain chuckled.

"I thought so! Where's Papa and the ghoulette's?" Y/n spun back around to face them again.

"Oh, I think they are playing a game of bob the apple or something." Rain replied looking around before spotting his friends. "...or they are terrorizing Copia." he sighed.

Y/n followed his gaze to where the ghoulettes were messing with Copia who was already drunk on the other side of the bonefire.

"Well, we should probably go save him before he ends up passed out somewhere." Rain added with a sigh as he linked arms with Mountain and dragged him over to their friends.

"I'm going to go get me some punch and maybe hit that fine piece of ass over there; she's been giving me the eyes all night." Dewdrop added as he stalked away to go to another sibling who was dressed up as some kind of cat girl in leather.

Aether looked between Y/n and Swiss before sighing and adjusting his helmet. "Don't cause a scene." he warned before leaving his two friends alone; ever watchful from across the yard as he chatted up with another ghoul from the older eras; probably Alpha who was dressed up like a viking warrior or something akin to that.

The sister looked around the crowd idly even when she felt the heat of Swiss at her side as he drew nearer; bending down slightly to speak in her ear.

"So, what was that about with Kenneth?" he asked watching the people around him acting nonchalantly like her even when he felt the urge to hide this little woman away from the prying eyes of other men who were unabashedly eying her up; probably drunk or tipsy at the least, hoping to get lucky tonight.

Y/n gave a little shrug of her shoulder and looked over her shoulder at him with her best innocent eyes. "Nothing. He's just a little boy who's got his ego hurt a bit. Nothing I couldn't handle."

"I saw the way he was looking at you." Swiss muttered meeting her gaze with the firey ones of his own that held dark promises.

"So? What if he was looking at him a certain way?" she taunted with a slow curl of her lips. "Jealous? If you are, maybe you should do something about it, Swissy." she cooed before sashaying away with a bounce in her step that made her bunny tail wag along with her hips as she went to mingle with her friends.

The night was long and the drinks just kept on coming. The moon was high in the sky casting more light into the forest as people partied together. Some snuck away together while others - drunk off their asses, were having a full-blown make-out session right where they sat. Y/n had taken a seat by the bonfire and was roasting a marshmallow while talking to another brother of sin - Toby, was his name if she recalled. They were laughing and chitchatting but all the while she could feel the burning gaze on her from across the clearing but she wouldn't give Swiss the satisfaction of catching his eye.

When a particular song came on the stereo she jumped to her feet and pulled on Toby's arms to get him to stand as she cheered. "This is one of my favorite songs! Let's join the dance floor." she winked as she dragged him along to the spot where others were dancing.

The song was hot and heavy, booming with promises of fun later. While others took dancing partners to dance within the clearing to the obviously sexy song Y/n began moving along with the music; swinging her hips and allowing Toby to hold her close as they moved against each other; all the while her skin felt hot - but not because of the fire or the heat of her skin tight outfit but from the glowing eyes from across the clearing that pinned her with possessive anger. Her moves were deliberate as if she was dancing for someone in particular - certainly not Toby but nobody knew that as they danced or watched from the sidelines. When the song ended and some migrated to the bonfire to roast some more marshmallows Y/n noticed the pile of firewood dwindling.

"Oh shoot, we're almost out! I'm going to go gather some more, save me a spot at the bonfire, yeah?" she called to Toby as she grabbed the basket for wood and headed into the darkness of the forest.

Even when she couldn't see she knew she was being followed - that ever-growing presence of dark energy at her back as eyes glued to her was evidence enough as she gathered some spare branches and wood she could find. When she was far enough from the celebratory clearing she stopped and straightened up.

"I know you are following me." she said into the darkness.

"How'd you figure that?" Swiss' body came into view in the dim light causing her to turn to look at him.

"I could feel your eyes on me the entire night." she cocked a hip as she eyed him up and down; he looked utterly terrifying in the dark with his outfit on and the burning in his eyes.

"Do you like him? That boy you were dancing with? did you have fun taunting me the entire night?" he asked, his voice low and commanding causing her to take a step back.

"Who said I was taunting you?" she quipped back with a jut of her chin. "Maybe I like Toby. He's a sweet guy."

The cool air of autumn kissed her cheeks as she was suddenly yanked forward faster than her eye could catch and her back pressed against a tree so hard the breath got knocked out of her lungs.

"Don't fucking play with me, woman." Swiss snarled inches from her face. "You were taunting me with that ass all night. When are you going to realize you're mine, sweetheart?"

"Am I yours though? Because last time I checked Swiss, you didn't claim me." the girl raised her chin; her lips ghosting over the stubble on his jaw from the angle causing his skin to grow ten times hotter.

He licked his lips slowly, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to keep his cool. He wasn't usually so possessive but watching her dance like that, seeing her in her skimpy skin-hugging costume knowing it was a jab at him made his blood boil.

"Run." his voice came out more demonic than human. "Fucking run, little bunny."

Y/n's eyes sparked with a sense of fear as much as they did in excitement knowing what he was implying and with a saucy grin she darted from beneath the cage of his arms and disappeared into the darkness. Swiss clenched his fists, counting until ten before he swirled and gave chase.

Heart pounding, adrenaline surging, Y/n raced through the dark woods, the cacophony of her footfalls blending with the haunting silence of the night. The moon's feeble glow barely penetrated the dense canopy above, casting eerie shadows that danced and twisted with every erratic movement.

A bone-chilling gust of wind howled through the trees, as if urging her to run faster, urging her to escape the impending danger. The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, filled her lungs, fueling her sprint.

Behind her, a sinister presence lurked with promise as heavy footsteps reverberated through the forest floor, a haunting reminder that a certain danger was close at hand. She could feel him closing in, an invisible force that clawed at her back, spurring her on, pushing her beyond the limits of her own exhaustion.

Each stride she took was a battle against her pounding heartbeat and trembling muscles. Twigs snapped beneath her feet, amplifying the fear and excitement that gripped her as if the very forest conspired to betray her presence. The rustling of leaves intensified as if the woods themselves conspired to expose her to the relentless predator on her heels.

Y/n's senses heightened, every flicker of shadow, every distant hoot of an owl, became an ominous omen, a reminder of the relentless pursuit. Her eyes strained to pierce the inky darkness, searching for a glimpse of escape, but all she could discern were gnarled branches and twisting roots, obstacles conspiring to trip and impede her flight.

Time seemed to warp, stretching every agonizing second into an eternity. The air grew colder, chilling her sweat-soaked skin, and goosebumps prickled across her flesh beneath her costume, a visceral reminder of the encroaching presence of the ghoul chasing her. Panic surged within her, threatening to overtake rational thought as she teetered on the precipice of exhaustion.

But then, a faint glimmer of hope flickered ahead—a sliver of moonlight peeking through a narrow gap in the trees leading back toward the Abbey. With renewed determination, she summoned her last reserves of strength and lunged toward the light, pushing her body to the brink of its capabilities.

But just as she was reaching the end of the path a hand snaked around her waist and she was yanked back into the darkness; the harshness of tree bark dug into her spin while a hot body pressed against her front - pinning her between a hard place and an immovable body trapping her within strong arms. Harsh pants escaped her lips as her head leaned back against the tree; hot breath breathed against her neck causing her to shiver as her hands dug into the tree on either side of her.

"Well, looks like you caught me..." she licked her suddenly dry lips. "What are you going to do about it?"

Her vision was suddenly filled with Swiss' dark orbs as he lifted his head from her neck and a strong hand reached up to wrap idly around her throat; not choking but simply resting there like a promise as a dark smile slowly revealed his fanged smile.

"I'm going to devour you."

"So do it." Y/n taunted arching up against him while exposing her throat. "You say you're going to claim me so that no other man can have me right? Do I have to go get Toby or finish the job you started?"

His nostrils flared and his grip tightened around her throat as he yanked her face to his until they were just centimeters away from each other; the small space shared by their uneven breathing.

"You're mine," he snarled, his voice laced with possessiveness. The words lingered in the air, holding an undeniable weight between them that only amped up their desire for each other.

Y/n stared up into his eyes. His eyes, smoldering with an intense hunger, locked onto hers, capturing her attention entirely. There was a dark fire in his gaze, a primal need that mirrored her own desires.

With an irresistible force, he pulled her closer, his grip firm and possessive. His lips met hers in a fervent collision, igniting a passionate flame deep within her soul. The kiss was a dance of dominance and surrender, an intertwining of lips and tongues that spoke volumes of his claim to her. Teeth nipped at lips and clanked together as hands roamed and yanked on clothes. She arched up into him, throwing a leg over his hip which he gripped tightly in a large hand.

"Fuck this suit!" he tore his lips away from her; his eyes zeroing in on the speck of scarlet smeared along her lip that had nothing to do with her lipstick and his thumb instinctively wiped at the blood there created from his fangs. She didn't seem to mind.

"So why don't you stop playing this game Swiss and rip the fucking thing off of me?" the girl replied shoving at his chest making him drop his hold on her and take a step back.

Oh, she was taunting him all right; pushing his buttons. It was a dangerous game to play - a game that he'd never have expected from sweet little Y/n who was loved by all but this side of her sparked the primal animalistic need to claim her.

"You better start running and if I don't fucking find you where your meant to be...I'm fucking you against the nearest available surface; peers be damned." his words came rumbling out through a ghoulish growl and he watched as her eyes lit up with excitement again while she slunk away from him slowly before turning on her heels and bolting straight to the Abbey.

Straight into the safety of its walls...and straight to the Ghoul's wing for Swiss' bedroom.

#ghost band #ghost #ghost fandom #the band ghost #swiss ghoul #swiss multi ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader

[nczennie]

be my baby.

Final Part of She's Like the Wind

Pairing: Reader x Stray Kid’s Lee Know AU: Summer love, based on the film Dirty Dancing Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (18+ only) Preview: "I'm scared of my future, I'm scared that I've been lying to my parents,". Reaching just a foot away from him, you look up at him, "But most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room, of leaving this summer and never feeling my whole life, the way that I feel when I'm with you". Words: 10.1k *Warnings under cut

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of food, mentions of drug use and their effects, mentions of past overdose/death (not main character), smut scene (oral fem. receiving, unprotected penetrative sex)

It’s only a couple of hours later that you find yourself sneaking out the door of your room once again.

Once your dad made sure you were in the room you shared with your sister, he went next door to the one he shared with your mom. You waited until you felt it was long enough, taking off your makeup and changing into comfier clothes before sitting on your bed for a while in case he did come back in to check on you.

Taking the time in silence to think, you can't help but look back at your relationship with Minho. From his cold glares, teaching you to dance, to kissing, when he called you beautiful... It couldn't have been nothing could it? You refuse to believe that no matter how you started, that along the way he didn't feel anything for you even if it was just a fraction of what you felt for him.

Finally having enough of your thoughts, you walk as quickly as you can across the quiet resort, only the sounds of crickets in the grass under the moonlight keep you company. Making your way to your destination, you take a deep breath before knocking firmly on the door. 

Minho opens the door shirtless, moving the shirt he held in his hands over his chest slightly to try to cover himself once he sees it's you. Clearly flustered, he lets you in without a word either way. He closes the door behind you before turning to busy himself tidying the small room he called home. You stare at his bare back, all this time you've spent touching it with dancing and learning the routine but you had never seen his muscles without a shirt. He clears his throat to speak up though he doesn’t turn to look at you, “Sorry about the mess. I know it’s not as nice as the room you must be staying in”. Your eyebrows furrow as you step closer to him, his back still the only thing in your view, “No, it’s perfect”. 

A silence lulls between you both, only the soft music from his record player filling the space. You swallow nervously, “I’m really sorry Minho, about my father. About how he acted towards you”. The boy finally turns around, shaking his head at you, “No, he was amazing, helping Momo like that. I can’t thank you enough for bringing him out”. You open and close your mouth with a sigh, “No, it really wasn’t right to judge you like that, like you were the one at fault”. His mouth quirks at the edge for a split second, “Was he wrong though? Look, I can’t thank you enough for helping me, helping us, but you can’t be blind to the crowd of people we are. We’re not the people you usually surround yourself with, and maybe even it’s better if you don’t, your father knows that for sure”.

Suddenly feeling furious you clench your jaw to stop yourself from speaking irrationally, “Are you serious? Do you really think I’m the type of person to judge others based on miniscule actions like that? That I walk around thinking I’m better than everyone else because of how I grew up?” Minho gulps and averts his gaze as he notices the tears forming in your eyes, but you can’t control your emotion. You can’t believe after all this time he still thought of you as some sort of stuck-up princess. 

Gaze, still averted, he speaks again, “I know you’re better than me,” he mumbles your name and before you can argue with him he continues his speech. “You're kind, you're always smiling like you still see the good in the world, cause you do. You-you got your whole life figured out, going to university and shit and not stuck working at some shithole hotel where you're looked down upon by everyone just because you don't have enough money!" His voice grows louder as he continues his rant, booming over the music in the room, throwing the shirt he was holding in his hands to the floor in frustration.

"That's not true! Minho I-" you raise your voice but he doesn't let you finish, continuing where he left off.

"And you're so brave," he says your name, "You're so brave helping us out like you have, some strangers who you rude to you, who judged you. Not once did you judge us, but gave us your time and money."

"I'm not brave," you finally get out, "I'm scared Minho".

Finally turning to look at you, he looks confused as if he couldn't understand what you could be scared of. "I'm scared," you state again taking tiny steps towards him, "I'm scared of my future, I'm scared that I've been lying to my parents,". Reaching just a foot away from him, you look up at him, "But most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room, of leaving this summer and never feeling my whole life, the way that I feel when I'm with you".

Your bottom lip trembles at your confession, at the silence that follows. It's so quiet you can hear the skip of the record, changing to play a new song.

Swallowing you decide you can't take the silence anymore, "Dance with me". You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, before his hands make their way up to grab at your hips, pulling you flush against him. Your breath hitches but you quickly recover, moving your hands along his arms up to his bare shoulders. He takes the lead, much like the fateful night where he first taught you to dance. Now as you both move to the music, there is no intricate ballroom moves, just the sensual movement of your hips against each other, his breath fanning into your neck as you pull him closer to you.

Alone with him in his room, there is no longer the pressure of being able to dance as well as those around you. Instead you lose yourself in the music, lose yourself in Minho. The rhythm seems easy to follow, not trying to impress him but instead doing what feels right. You remove your hands from his shoulders, moving them up your neck and above your head as he dips you backwards, hips still moving against yours. Your mouth falls open with a small gasp as you feel him place a kiss on your chest where your tank top reveals your skin.

He continues to run his lips along your skin, up to your neck as he straightens you back up. Leaning your head to the right, you close your eyes as you take in the feeling of his soft lips on your neck. Eventually he smoothly runs his hands down from your hips to your ass, squeezing you and helping your move along him how he pleases.

You can't help the sound that leaves your mouth as you feel Minho everywhere as you dance together. He finally moves away from your neck, looking down at you with hooded eyes. Your eyes automatically close has he leans forward, but rather than kissing you, his lips merely brush yours as he speaks, "Is this okay?" Opening your eyes, you nod profusely, "Yes. Minho, please". Seemingly getting all the assurance he needs, he finally presses his lips against yours.

It starts as a gentle kiss, your hips still moving along to the music, but as soon as you move to run your tongue along his lips. He stops his dancing to put all of his focus on kissing you, both of his hands coming to grasp your jawline as he runs his tongue along yours. You can't help but moan into his mouth as he moves to push you into his bed frame.

You pull away to catch your breath but Minho continues to work on you. Kissing down your neck, collarbones, to your shoulder where he moves the strap of your top down. Once it's down he moves to your other shoulder, kissing it gently after moving the strap. You can feel as he hums against your skin, lips moving to the center of your chest where his hands come up to move your top down under your breasts, much easier with the straps out of the way.

He doesn't bother to remove your shirt all the way, instead focusing on your breasts just as they are. Throwing your head back as one of his hands moves to cup you, groping you softly as his mouth focuses on the other, his tongue warm and wet against your nipple.

Minho pulls his mouth away from you with a wet pop, "My pretty baby," he mumbles out, not stopping as he continues his way down your body. Moving the bottom of your shirt slightly upwards in order to place wet kisses on your stomach. He finally settles onto his knees on the ground between your legs. Humming against your hip bones, he moves to grab at your sleep shorts, hooking his fingers into the soft material to pull them down your legs.

You try not to think too hard about the cotton of your panties as you step out of the shorts and Minho throws them on the floor next to him. Though they don't seem to bother him as he moves forward once again to place open mouthed kisses to your covered mound. The wetness from his mouth seeping through the white material.

He runs his lips across your thigh and you can feel your face flush as he looks up at you, meeting your gaze. "Can I have you? Just like this?" His voice is soft but you nod right away, "Yes. Yes, Minho, I'm yours".

Without another word he turns his attention back on the white material, kissing and running his tongue along it before finally reaching up to remove it completely. You gulp as he drags them down your legs, tossing them to join your shorts. Your breath hitches as he grabs ahold of one of your legs, moving to place it atop his shoulder, granting him better access to you.

Minho moves without hesitance, moving forward to run his tongue completely along your wetness. You gasp at the feeling, stumbling a bit, using one of your hands to grab at the wood of his footboard. "Oh my gosh, Minho," you moan out as he continues to work on you. His tongue works quickly, running along you as he hums as if he were enjoying it at much as you were. You let out a cry as he moves the hand not holding your leg up to run along your folds, moving to spread you open holding you there in order for him to wrap his lips directly around your clit. Your other hand moves to grab onto his hair, running through and pulling on the softness in an attempt to ground your especially as your legs shake from the pleasure.

He moans into your core as you continue to pull at his strands, his tongue switching between running along you to flicking at your clit which causes your mouth to fall open. At his patterns you start to fall apart, toes curling, legs shaking as you struggle to hold yourself up with your grip on his bed. His grip tightens against your leg, moving to fully engulf you with his mouth to bring you to your end.

You eventually have to push him away from his attacks on your clit, whining as he finally pulls away leaving you sensitive. He places your leg softly on the ground and you swallow hard at the obvious wetness lingering on his lips and chin. Breathing still slightly uneven you watching as he moves to stand, attaching his lips to yours in another kiss as his hands round to grip you. Minho bends slightly in order lift you into his arms, moving the short distance to drop you on his bed. You land with a giggle, breasts bouncing on impact as they still hang out over your shirt.

Minho looks down at you from where he stands, a cross between an amused smile and smirk grazing his lips as he moves to remove his belt from his slacks. Sitting up on your forearms, you're able to watch him as he moves his belt, placing it on the chair before he unbuttons and removes his pants and underwear at the same time.

You gulp as you take in his length, it's already standing hard from before, his tip red and ready for your attention. He moves to join you on his bed, straddling over you, eyes wandering over your face. "I thought I could handle just having you with my mouth, but I was wrong. I want to take you completely". Your tongue wanders out to wet your lips, his gaze following before he speaks up, "I need you too, Minho, all of you". As you speak up, you take the chance to run one of your hands up his firm torso, eventually moving to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet you in an urgent kiss.

Minho kisses you back hard, his lips almost feel as if they're bruising as he pushes you flat onto your back. You stay kissing, intertwining tongues as he ruts slowly against you. Eventually his hand moves between you both in order to grip his length, guiding it to run over your folds. He glances at you one last time as if to see if you changed your mind, but at seeing no hesitation he pushes his cock into you, biting his lip at the feeling.

Letting out a strangled moan at the feeling of him stretching you out, you move your head to the side, your hands gripping his scratchy sheets. After you both adjust, Minho starts to move his hips, his slow pace speeding up to become more steady as he draws more noises of pleasure from you. "That's it, baby" he breathes as he lowers his body down and presses his chest against yours, still rocking his hips, "My pretty baby".

If there was any doubt before about Minho's skillful hips while dancing, there sure wasn't anymore as he expertly drove his hips into yours. Every thrust leaves you breathless and the drag of his chest over yours just leaves you more sensitive. He moves his left hand to grab ahold of your thigh, hoisting it over his hip to drive his cock even deeper into you.

You cry out at the feeling, your hands moving to grip onto his back, nails certainly leaving their mark on him. You can't help but clench around him as you near your end and he groans himself at the feeling. His grip on your thigh tightens as he speeds his pace up, looking to take you both to the end.

You cum with a sob of his name, your arms holding him close to you and his hips continue their fast pace. Whimpering at the sensitivity you wait patiently for him to come to his end, "Minho," you whisper in his ear, "Please, please cum for me." You're whining now as his hips begin to stutter, "You're so good, please Minho". He cums with a quiet moan, hand still gripping you almost painfully and the other braces himself on the bed as to not place all his weight atop of you.

There a few moments of silence, just the sound of you both catching your breath and the music from the record player still coming from the corner. He finally removes himself from you slowly, rolling to lay beside you, "Fuck, baby".

A smile quirks on your lips as you turn your head to look at him, his eyes close, eyebrows furrowed, and face still red. He crack an eye open as if he could feel you staring, "Just give me one moment," he mumbles out, pulling a blanket from the top of the bed to throw over you. "I promise I'll clean you up, I just need my ears to stop ringing first".

You laugh at him, content to just lay there beside him. Feeling safe and comfortable with Minho beside you. You end up staying the night with him, cuddled in his bed still listening to music and just talking. Talking about anything that came to mind. You reluctantly slip out of his housing just as the sun was rising, sneaking back to your room with a smile on your face as you finally get some sleep.

The summer trudges on and so does your time with Minho. Seeing as the performance was over, there was technically no need for you to see the boy anymore. But that didn't stop either of you from sneaking out at random parts of the day or night to see each other.

Dancing in empty rooms, swimming in the lake, loving each other between his sheets. He was your whole summer and more. There wasn't anyone else who knew the extent of your relationship. Not even Momo or Jeongin, not catching the sly glances you give each other when you come to the staff get togethers.

You were curious one early morning as you lay with Minho in his bed, both of you quietly listening to the record playing. Both bare underneath the blanket, you were cuddled to his chest, one of his arms around your shoulder, fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

"Have you had many women?" you finally ask.

"What?" He says after a moment ask if he didn't understand you, but you can hear the beat of his heart pick up under your ear. "Have you had many women?" You ask again, leaning up slightly to take in his face.

He gives you a confused look, "I-what? Why are you asking me that?" You chuckle at how nervous he's getting, you shrug, "I don't care how many if that's what you're thinking." You lean up on one arm, letting the blanket fall from your chest. Watching as he gulps, you speak again, "Earlier this summer Max kind of insinuated that there were some married women at the resort who look to have some fun with the workers. You were dancing with one, her name was Ruby".

Minho leans up on his arms, "Look, baby, I-" He pauses and you watch him, "I'm not judging you, Minho". You try to reassure him but he averts your gaze before talking again, "It's not something I'm proud of okay, being with a married woman. But there are some ladies who pay us workers to have extra fun. I know we shouldn't, it's wrong. But you don't understand what it's like to be tempted by money like that, cause you need it, cause you've never had it".

Nodding slowly you look around his room, you weren't sure what to say. Sure it was wrong but what right did you have to comment on anything dealing with money? That was made clear to you since the beginning.

"Have you," You start, till not meeting his gaze which you can feel on you face, "Have you since we-" "No" he doesn't let you finish as he understands. It hasn't been long since your first night together but you wouldn't know how to feel if he's been having others at the same time too.

But then again did you even have a right to ask him that? You weren't sure, there was never any labels or talk about what you both were. Perhaps because you both knew whatever this was would end with summer. The thought made you nauseous.

"I've always been single if I took up their offer, they may be betraying their husbands but I'm not the type to do that, to even think of that if I were seeing someone myself." He speaks up at your silence. Turning to look at him finally, you give him a small smile, pushing him back to lay down and laying yourself on his chest once again. Suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of having to leave him you just wanted to hold him as close as possible.

There's silence again, Minho taping along to the beat of the song playing and then he speaks again, "Remember how I told you it was always just me and my mom?"

You nod the best you can on his chest, not moving as he moves his hand to play with your hair. "She was a heavy drug user. My dad left us when I was very young and every since then she escaped with drugs".

You try to move to look at him but he uses his hand in your hair to keep you down, as if he wouldn't be able to tell you these things if he had to see you.

"That's where all of our money went, to her buying. I hated how she acted so that's why I took up dancing after school. It was so nice to be able to do something I enjoy and not have to think about anything at home". You start to rub circles on the side of his bare chest, wanting to at least do something to show you were listening.

"Once I got into high school, I made the wrong friends. I started using too, I thought my mom had been doing it forever so what the hell. But then one day," he starts but pauses when his voice trembles, "One day I came home after dance and I found her, my mom. She had overdosed."

"Minho-" You try to speak but he interrupts you, "No," he says, "Don't, please don't say anything". You gulp but listen to him. "Since that day I swore off that shit and vowed to never put someone through what she put me through. I moved in with Jeongin and his parents and got clean and continued dancing. After graduation Jeongin's dad found me a job using dance here and I've been here since."

No longer being able to ignore him, you sit up, frowning when you see tears streaming down his face. "It wasn't all bad though," he speaks giving a small smile, "Those bad friends I made in school, that's where I met Momo". You move to wipe his tears, "I wanted so badly to help her, I made her join dance with me. That's how we became partners. But she's always been up and down. Especially now with her jackss boyfriend, ruining all her progress".

You make him sit up so you can pull him into a hug. No wonder he had acted the way he did at the party when the worker offered you something. And with Momo, you didn't know he had been trying for years to help her and yet your father acted like it was his fault she was even in that position.

Pulling him tighter you finally speak, "Lee Minho, you're strong and amazing and your friends are so lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have met you this summer".

You pull away slightly to place a soft kiss on both of his cheeks, the taste of his tears lingering on your lips.

He brings a hand up to cup your face, gently running his thumb over your cheek before placing a kiss there. "I think I'm the lucky one".

You enjoy your quiet time with Minho, that's how the two of you had started and been since. Just the two of you, seemingly in your own world, away from the reality of your relationship.

Maybe that's why neither of you made an effort to tell the extent of your relationship to anyone else. Not even Jeongin or Momo knowing that you two continued to see each other outside of the staffing parties they invited you to.

Having your secret meant no one could remind you that summer would end soon, that Minho seemed to hate you at first, that your father seemed to hate him.

Instead you both could hide away from it all, him continuing to teach you dances and spending time in his room. Soaking in all the time you could before it was over.

You had been dancing with Minho between some of his classes and now he was walking you back to the main lounge where you were to meet your family for lunch. Laughing beside him as he tells a story of when Jeongin had gotten drunk last night, you keep your eyes on the dirt path. The path taking you through the trees until making it to the sidewalk of the main resort.

Almost reaching the sidewalk, you pause when you hear some familiar voices. Your eyes widen when you see your dad, sister, and Chan walk out of the building straight ahead of you. Panicking, you quickly push Minho off of the path and against a near tree, ignore the "What the fuck" coming out of his mouth as you try to hide both of you from their view.

You gulp, pushed against Minho as you keep an eye on your family. "Chan," your dad speaks, "Thank you for the tour, why don't you join us for lunch?" Chan seems to hesitate, "Oh, I'm not sure, I wouldn't want to intrude". Your sisters speaks next, "C'mon Chan, you don't work till later". "Obviously it would make Daisy happy," you dad joins, "Plus you can continue telling me about your university". You watch as Chan eventually agrees, your dad putting his arm around him as the three of them continue on the sidewalk to the lounge.

Letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you step away from Minho, only to look up and see the boy giving you a dark look. "Sorry," you gulp, "My family," you start but trail off not even sure how to continue the sentence.

Minho hums, throwing his hands in his pockets. You stare at him, unsure of what to say. "You know my dad doesn't know about us, and if he did-" you try to talk but Minho cuts you off with a scoff. "Of course, can't let him know you're with the guy who gets his friends into drugs".

"Minho, no. That's not-" But he doesn't listen, only talks more, "It's fine, it's true. I'll never be like the waiter. Chan and his perfect past and attending university. That's the kind of boy he wants for his daughters".

Reaching to grab him, you want to get him to listen, to let you explain, but he moves back away from your touch. "Look, I know we weren't exactly telling everyone about us but I also didn't expect you to make me hide behind a tree to avoid your family from seeing us together". Your throat tightens and tears between to prick at your eyes, "Please, Minho"

But the boy moves to walk, groaning and running his hand over his face, "I knew it, I knew this is what would happen." He shakes his head, "I'm just a fool to believe I have anything you need".

He turns, going to walk back to where you both came from and you try once more to call out his name. But he just continues to walk and you don't chase him.

Guilt fills your body the next couple of days, you know now that you never should have made Minho hide the way you did. That even knowing how your dad would react, you should have stood up for him. Told your dad what an amazing guy Minho is, that no matter what he would say it wouldn't stop your feelings for him.

But instead you let Minho believe he was no good for you, something he had already told you he thought before this started. How would you be able to recover from this?

You spend the the days looking for Minho, to try to apologize to him, but you can't seem to get him alone. Even when joining Jeongin at the parties, Minho wasn't in attendance. Not quite sure what to do, you feel desperate as you trudge to the staff housing one afternoon.

Knocking at the door you wait a second before it opens, "Hey!" Momo greets, "What are you doing here?" She looks as if she's in the middle of getting ready. You swallow, licking your lips, "I'm sorry, do you have a second to talk?". She purses her lips but nods opening the door, "I have a shift soon but you can talk while I do my makeup".

Taking a seat at the end of her bed you watch as she starts her stage makeup at her small vanity. "Minho and I have the after-dinner shift in the dancing lounge tonight". You nod, swallowing before speaking, "How is Minho?" "He's good, I guess. One of the other dancers has been out for the week so he's been taking his shifts as well". You don't know how to reply, don't know how to tell her what you came here for.

"Are you okay?" she asks, looking at your through the mirror, taking a break from applying her eye shadow. You avert your gaze to your lap, "Momo, do you remember when I told you that I liked Minho?" You can hear her turn around in her seat to look at you. "Well I believe that Minho liked me too".

Looking up to meet her confused gaze, you continue her story, "Since the night of the performance we-I mean he kissed me. He called me beautiful. And ever since that night, we've been...together and it's been so amazing and I-I think I love him Momo". You sigh, tears coming to your eyes as you confront your feelings.

The girl only looks at you blankly, examining your face. "Look," she finally says, "Is there, I mean have you, are you paying Minho?" You look at her in shock and disgust, she must think you're like those married women who pay for the company of the dancers. That Minho being with you has to only do with your money but you fell for him anyways.

"No!" you state, "No, there is no money. You must know we've been dancing together this whole time and it happened. I'm not paying him to sleep with me!" You become frustrated. It seems that no matter what you do, your money will follow you. Minho thinks he's not good for you because of it and now Momo thinks Minho is only with you because of it.

"I'm sorry," she states as she watches your tears start to spill from your eyes, "I was just asking, I didn't mean anything". You shake your head feeling deflated in the place you came for help. "I have to go," you stand and walk to the door as she calls out your name. You ignore her, leaving the room and heading to walk to the main resort trying to wipe your tears.

As you sniffle along the path, you hear someone call your name in the distance. Looking up, you see Jeongin waving at you, a large basket in one of his hands.

You walk to meet him, his big smile falling off his face when he can clearly seen you've been crying. "Are you okay?" he asks and you shake your head, tears starting to fall once more. "Here come help me fold these napkins".

Following him to the outdoor restaurant you stand beside him in silence, watching as he teaches you the proper way to fold the dinner napkins. Moments of quiet follow before he speaks up now that you've seemed to calm, "Will you tell me what happened?"

You huff, paying attention to the white cloth in your hands. "Minho," you finally say. He pauses his folding to look at you, "Minho?" You nod, avoiding his gaze but you finally let yourself speak. You tell Jeongin about the lake, about the night of the performance, of all the times after you and Minho were together, dancing and talking and loving. And of course you tell him about what you did to him when you saw your dad.

Jeongin takes in the story in silence, and you let him process as he must be so confused not having a clue about you and his cousin. "You see," he finally says, "Minho as had a really hard past". He looks at you confused when you nod, "He told me, about his mom". He looks shocked, "He told you?" You nod grabbing another napkin as he continues to look at you. "I was going to say that because of his hard past Minho can be really reserved, it takes him awhile to open up to people, that's why he seems so cold. But it seems you must be something special for him to tell you his story".

Looking up sadly at him, you confess, "I love him, Jeongin". He merely looks, at you, mouth quirking. "I know it's not ideal, with summer ending and all and I'll be leaving but I can't help it. I love him. I love him and I ruined it by making him think he's not enough for me".

Jeongin shakes his head, finally reaching to fold his napkin. "I know it's hard for you too. You have a great relationship with your family so it feels wrong to keep something secret from them no matter how much it means to you". It's true, you had been so scared to be keeping this secret from them, even just when you and Minho were strictly dancing. You had never lied to them before and now you were scared how it would effect your relationship.

"It was a mistake," You confess, "I never should've made Minho doubt himself or how I feel for him. I want to tell him this, to tell him that I love him. But I can't find him and now telling you this or telling Momo it just makes me seem like I shouldn't. That I should just leave him alone".

He sighs, "You know him and Momo's past, she was just trying to look after him like he always does for her". "She probably hates me for making Minho feel this way" you say but Jeongin makes a noise, "That's not true, she's protective but once she sees how you truly feel for him she's understand".

You grumble, "I just need Minho to understand".

That night after dinner you find yourself walking back to your room with your sister. You stifle a yawn as she drags on about why she thinks red lipstick will be out of style soon. Your parents have stayed in the lounge to watch a jazz show but you and Daisy insisted on going back to the room, you're exhausted from your draining day.

You stand in front of the elevator waiting for it to pick you up and take you to your floor. Daisy hums along the the quiet music playing in the hallways and you look down to your feet, moving them slightly and remembering random steps Minho has taught you.

The elevator opens with a ding and you hear Daisy gasp beside you, looking up your eyes widen to see the elevator was not empty. Your stomaching dropping and your chest tightening in a way that makes you feel sick. "Oh, sorry" Daisy giggles slightly embarrassed as your eyebrows furrow.

Inside the elevator is Minho, still dressed in his dancing suit, hands on the hips of another woman, her lips pressing into his neck before she notices you both. She turns to apologize and you recognise her immediately, Ruby. The married woman that was dancing with Minho that fateful night when you first found Momo. The woman Max explained that would get more than dance lessons with the money her husband gave to her.

You ignore as Ruby apologizes to your sister, eyes not leaving Minho's brown ones as he realizes it's you. Your lips begin to tremble, throat burning as you urge your tears to not fall. His lips open and close a couple of times, but his face tells you nothing, blank as it's always been.

Averting your gaze as he and Ruby move out of the elevator and you and your sister take their place. Daisy pushing the button to your floor, the doors closing finally blocking your view of them.

Now that you're finally out of their view you let out a cry, an ugly sob at seeing Minho with another woman. Your sister seems to panic beside you, asking if you're okay but you can't bring yourself to talk. Just trying to calm yourself as she wraps her arms around you.

An hour later you have managed to stop your crying and clean up for bed. You lay now under the comfort of the blankets, gazing at your sister who sits on her own bed across from you. It's silent besides the flipping of her pages of the magazine she looks through.

"Daisy," you call to her, "Are you sad to have to leave Chan soon?"

She purses her lips and looks to you, "Of course I am. We've spent so much time together here. But I know we will see each other more." She sounds confident, "His university is closer to the city so I will easily be able to see him".

Swallowing you decide to ask another question, "Do you love him?"

The small lap beside her bed illuminates the redness that comes to her cheeks. "Yes, I believe I do. That's what makes it so much harder to leave him".

The sinking feeling suddenly returns to your stomach and you turn your body around to face the wall, having enough sister gossiping for the night. You think of what Daisy says, that it will be harder to leave Chan because she loves him. You already had no doubt that it would hurt to leave Minho, but could it hurt worse than this? Hurt more than seeing him with another woman in the elevator? Hurt worse than having him think you believed he wasn't enough for you?

You weren't sure which will cut you deeper but it is clear that this summer will leave you with scars you will never be able to forget.

At this point there were only a couple of days before you and your family left the resort and returned home to the city. Summer was coming to an end and soon your experience here will just be memories.

You sit at lunch now with your family and Chan. Chan explaining to you all about the final show that the resort hosts. There is to be a large dinner in the lounge, everyone dressed in their best attire, and all of the talent staff gets to perform for them.

"It's amazing really," Chan says excitedly, "We have such amazing musicians, singers, and dancers here and they all work really hard to put on one last grand show for the guests". Your mom and sister smile excitedly at the news, already planning what to wear. Your own ears perk up as well, will this mean you will get to watch Minho dance once final time?

You recall the first time you saw him dance, partnered with Momo as the two best dancers you have ever seen. Nothing quite captivated you like their dancing and you find yourself hoping to witness it one more time.

"Chan is friends with some of the singers that are going to perform," Daisy tells you all excitedly, "He actually has an amazing voice himself but he has to work on serving the guests so he isn't able to perform". Chan blushes at the attention your family gives him, "Oh, no no I think I would be too shy to perform anyways, but one of my best friends Seungmin works as a singer here. His voice is truly out of this world".

Your mom excitedly explains she remembers Chan's friend from his performance in the gazebo last week. Suddenly your dad speaks up as he swirls his wine glass, "It's good you have some friends that work with you Chan. But just make sure you stick with the right crowd, son. I know there are employees here that don't make the right decisions and I would hate for a good kid like you to get mixed up in that".

You freeze as he talks, putting your fork down as you feel your rage start to fill your body. Chan only nervously chuckles but you know exactly what your father is talking about. The night he helped Momo is obviously clear in his brain and he still holds a deep judgement for everyone that was there. Perhaps even you.

"My friends are not for you to judge, daddy". You speak to your father across from you.

Everyone stops what they're doing to look at you. Clearly shocked as you were never one to speak up, especially if it meant speaking against your father. He puts his drink down, "Excuse me?" You swallow hard trying not to lose your confidence. "I know what you're implying by what you said, but you have no right to judge them. They are my friends and they are some of the greatest people I have ever met."

Your father's gaze hardens and you can see out of the corner of your eyes that your mother reaches out to grab his arm, "I have every right to judge them," he says your name firmly, "You dragged me to help with the mess that they made. No one ends up in those situations if they make the right decisions".

Clenching your jaw your try to chose your words carefully, "I never would have expected my father to be a man who judges those on such miniscule things. I thought he was better than that".

Your sister looks at you wide eyed before your mother shouts your name, no one pleased with your words. Your father merely keeps your gaze for another moment before he leaves the table without another word.

Your mother calls your name, "How could you speak to your father in such a way?" She looks worried but the rage you felt is still strong. "I am merely sticking up for those that I love".

Hours later and you have cooled off enough to attempt to find your father. After guidance from your mother, you were able to find him sitting alone under a gazebo, seeking shelter from the rain that had started falling.

You move to wordlessly sit next to him but he doesn't even make an attempt to look at you. After a moment of nothing but the sound of rain falling, he finally speaks, "Is that where my money went?"

Looking at him confused, you weren't sure what to say so he speaks again, "When you claimed you had a friend who needed money to get home, is this where it went instead? For them to buy drugs?"

Your eyes widen, "No! Of course not, daddy! You don't understand," you turn in your seat to face him, "That money was for her, but it was for her to enter a program to break her addiction. But that night her boyfriend came and stole that money and caused that mess".

"Her boyfriend?" he questions, "One of those two who were waiting with you outside?". A panicked feeling rises in your chest as you feel you have to hurriedly defend your friends as quickly as possible. "No! Daddy, you have it all wrong. Those guys are Minho and Jeongin, they are her friends and they are the ones who are desperately trying to help her break her addiction!"

Your father only stays silent. You weren't sure what you were expecting, maybe for him to apologize for the misunderstanding, to offer to fix the way he acted towards them. But you're starting to see now that maybe your father is no longer the man you admired since you were a young girl.

"You know I'm starting to think it was a mistake to let you move into a dorm when you go to university this fall, we should look into you staying at home instead" He turns back to face the view of the lake once again, "I'm disappointed in you," he says your name.

Eyes watering as you realize this is forever the turning point in your relationship, "Well I'm disappointed in you too, daddy"

He turns his head quickly to look at you, seemingly more shocked at your words than upset. You will yourself to continue your speech even as your voice wavers, "My whole life I believed you were the greatest man in the world. I looked up to you and thought you could do no wrong. I thought you were the kindest man alive who was eager to help those around him. But now I can see that I'm wrong".

He says your name but you continue to speak your mind, not even bothering to wipe the tears that have fallen down your face, "I'm not your little girl anymore, daddy. I'm an adult who can make my own decisions, and live with my own mistakes. I'm sorry I didn't turn out into the perfect daughter you always dreamed of me being". You finally let out your emotions, feeling a huge weight being lifted that you have felt for years.

This summer wasn't the first time your father made you feel this way but it finally opened your eyes and allowed you to act on it. You don't know what'll happen between you two now, but you find comfort in the fact that you voiced what you really feel to him.

At the end of your speech you get up and make your way to the walking path, not bothering to look back at your father.

You walk the long way through the heavy rain, not even feeling bothered by how soaked you were getting. Now you walked with a mission after the adrenaline from speaking with your father still lingered in your brain.

Making your way to your destination without much thought, you were suddenly knocking on Minho's door. Hoping he would open it and hoping he would even let you in after seeing it was you.

The door suddenly opens and Minho stands there eyes widening when he sees it's you, "What are you doing here, it's pouring" He gestures for you to come inside. You watch as he closes the door behind you and moves to grab a towel as a change of clothes. You hadn't seen him since the incident with your family and your heart thuds loudly at the sight of him.

"Here you need to change quickly" he avoids eye contact but hands you a towel along with a shirt and pants that were his. You move behind a screen he has set up and dry yourself and change, listening as you can hear him move to the record player and starts some music.

You set your wet clothes over the screen to dry and see Minho sitting on the edge of his bed. He's wearing a black tank top and slacks like the many many times where he has taught you to dance. Taking a chance, you move to sit beside him and when it doesn't move away you relax a little.

Thunder booms in the distance and your hand twitches in your lap, wanting nothing more than to reach over and hold onto the man you have come to love. But suddenly the image of him in the elevator with Ruby comes to mind so you squeeze your own hands together instead.

"I spoke to my father today," you start as you stare at your hands, "I had grown up thinking he was the best man in the world but after hearing him talk badly about you and Momo I realized the wasn't the case. For the first time in my life I spoke up". You can feel his gaze burning into your face but your own eyes stay planted to your lap.

"He's your father, baby" Minho speaks, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he can help it, "He only wants best for his daughter, you can't blame him for wanting better for his daughter than to be caught up in a crowd like that".

"No!" you reply, frustrated because he doesn't understand, "You don't get it Minho. "All of my life I have merely been a projection of his idea of a perfect daughter. Everything I have ever done is because he wanted me to." You sniffle and quickly wipe your tears, "This summer was the first time I have truly felt like I have made my own choices. I chose to be friends with Jeongin. I chose to help Momo. I chose to love you". Your voice falters in the end.

A silence follows but you decided not to dwell on it, "The point is that for the first time in my life I spoke out against my father. I defended Momo, I defended you, I defended myself." you look up to the roof to try to stop your tears.

"My father had no right to judge you and I made sure to tell him that. He had no right to make your feel so low about yourself," you pause for a second, "I had no right to make you feel that way, Minho. I regret nothing more than making you believe like you weren't enough for me. I was just a scared little girl who was afraid of her father. But I know now that he wasn't worth making you feel that way about yourself".

Sobs begin to wreck your body and Minho stands to grab tissues from his dresser. He returns to his seat next to you, handing you one tissue while he keeps the other help to dry your tears. One hand strokes your hair as he waits for your to calm down.

Just as you finally catch your breath your reminded of the image of him and Ruby so you speak again, "I'm sorry," you sniffle, "I just didn't want to leave this summer having you think I felt that way about you. Even though you haved moved on, please just know I truly love you Minho, and you were more than enough for me".

Minho frowns as you attempt to stand from his bed, "Hey, what are you doing?" He questions, standing and grabbing your forearms to face him. You shake your head, "I know Minho. And I know you saw me too, with the elevator, and Ruby".

He gulps, "It's not-" he pauses closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "It's not like that okay". You swallow, "I saw you both with my own eyes".

"Okay, I was upset. When I was working my shift and when Ruby offered me money like all the times before I followed her to her room," You avert your gaze not knowing if you wanted to hear the details he was sharing. "But she had leaned in to kiss me and I couldn't do it. I pulled away before she could and told her I couldn't She offered me double but I still refused. When you saw us in the elevator she was walking me back down so I could leave, she kept grabbing me and kissing my neck to try and change my mind but I was grabbing her to remove her from me".

Looking at him once again, you can't lie to say you didn't feel relieved at hearing the truth, "Really?" You ask just to make sure and he nods, "I told you before I don't do that if I'm taken and no matter what happened I can't stop thinking about you".

You gulp taking in the darkness of his eyes. "So you really defended me in front of your father?" He smirks and you shake your head with a small laugh, "Yes, and I would do it a million times more. I wish I was strong enough to do it before".

He runs his hands up and down your arms, "It's been hard for me to accept that I am good enough to have you, we are so different in every way. But I have come to love you so much that I'm afraid no matter what I can't let you go".

Eyes widening you look up to meet his gaze, "Did you say love?"

His smirk only deepens, eyebrows raised as he replies to you, "Yeah, didn't you say you loved me too? Or did I misunderstand?"

Quickly wrapping your arms around him, you pull him into a tight hug, "Minho, I love you. I don't want to leave". His arms wrap around you just as tightly as he begins to rock you both back in forth. "It'll be okay," he says your name softly, "We'll figure something out".

Unfortunately the night of the final dinner has arrived. It was your last night at the resort and tomorrow morning you would be packing to leave. You sit at a dinner table in the longue with your family, enjoy the show that the talented workers put on.

Just a dessert was served they announced the performance of two talented dancers and you smile widely as Momo and Minho take the stage. "Those are my friends," you say proudly to your family and your mother and sister watch with interest as your dad huffs. Although things are still strained with your dad, the two of you have at least starting talking to each other once more. There's a part of you that hoped he was starting to realize that he was the one is the wrong.

The whole crowd watches in awe at the professional dances that Minho and Momo perform. Their routine include difficult moves that impressed everyone, including the lift you had begged Minho not to include when you were doing your own routine in the beginning of the summer.

You clapped loudly as it came to an end, even standing to show your support. The whole crowd roared and even your mom and sister cheered loudly, clearly impressed.

Quickly excusing yourself from the table, you make your way to where they would come off stage. Smiling brightly as they made their way down the stairs, "You guys were so amazing! It feels like it's been so long since I saw the two of you dance together". They smile back at you, Momo pulling you into a hug. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me this summer," she whispers in your ear and you squeeze her. Starting next week she will start attending the rehab your dad had recommended. You wished her luck and she pulls away, "I better see you again next summer".

You chuckle as she walks away, reaching your hand out to grasp Minho's. You hear someone call your name and you turn to see Jeongin making his way over to you with a big smile. Letting go of Minho's hand you pull the younger boy into a big hug, "I'll miss you" you tell him laugh as he spins you around, "Maybe Minho can bring you over to my house something," You nod. Jeongin will be going back to his parents house, attending school until next summer came around.

"I would love that," you say and give him one last squeeze before he has to return to work. Finally to turn back to Minho, "You were so amazing up there, I will never get tired of watching you dance". He chuckles but you can see the redness of his ears. He pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead. Reaching for his hand once again you pull him towards the table where your family sat. Your sister smirks while your mom wears a curious expression, you didn't need to look to see your father had his jaw clenched.

"Everyone," you say, holding onto Minho's arm with both hands, "This is Minho". They give you a questioning look but your mother urges him to take a seat nonetheless.

He bashfully thanks her before taking the seat between you and Daisy. There is a beat of silence but you smile at him to attempt to ease his nerves. "Do you know Chan by chance? He works as a waiter?" Your sister speaks eager to break the quietness.

Minho nods clearly his throat, "I don't see him often but he's very kind". Your mother speaks up next, cutting into her cake. "I know Chan only works here during the summer, is this only a summer job for you too?"

Your father seems to perk up, eyeing him to hear his answer which makes Minho nervous. You grab his hand under the table and give it a squeeze. "That's right, it's pretty slow here the rest of the year. I only work here for summer but the rest of the time I work at another hotel dancing, as well as working at a nearby gas station". He turns to look at you and you give him a reassuring nod. He speaks again, "Although I'm going to start taking classes at the community college here in town this fall".

"Oh? Is that right? What are you planning to study?" You mother gives a smile and Minho blushes, "Childhood education".

The table pauses, as if they didn't hear him right. "Minho, is a wonderful dancer as well as a wonderful dance teacher". You boost for him.

"That makes sense, you were so amazing up there" You sister praises him. He licks his lips, silently thanking her as he reverts his eyes, never one to take compliments so easy. "It's my dream to open a dance academy for kids in school. Dancing helped me as a young kid when I was going through hard times so I would love to provide the same opportunity to others".

You can't keep the smile off your face as Minho explains, so proud of the man that you love. Daisy and your mother gush over him and his plan and urge him to eat some of the many desserts they served the table with.

Some time later you decided to take a walk with Minho, "I'll be back". you say as you and Minho stand. Your mother and sister bidding him farewell.

Suddenly the sound of a moving chair screeches and your eyes widen to see your father has stood up along with you. The three of you stand in shock for a moment before your father moves, reaching his hand out to Minho, "It was nice to meet you. I wish you luck on your schooling as well as your future plans".

It's simple but it makes you smile. He had finally realized he was the one in the wrong.

Minho thanks him profusely and they two of you finally make your way out of the lounge hand in hand. The two of you walk the path outside, taking in the stars and you swing your arms back and forth.

You can't lie that you were terrified to leave Minho tomorrow. The future seemed so unclear without being in the same resort, being hours away from each other instead. But you both promised each other to visit one another when you had the chance.

It'll be hard you know, but you think for Minho anything would be worth it. Worth it to see him accomplish his dreams, worth it to be with the man you love.

"What a crazy summer" Minho speaks, and you laugh, "I never would have imagined my summer would have gone like this". He agrees with a hum, "Do you regret it?" You quickly shake your head, "Never. Even if in fifty years from now you decided you no longer love me, I will never forget this summer and everything you did for me. You helped me more than you can imagine".

Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest, "I think we helped each other, baby".

You reach to place a kiss to his jaw, "I love you, Minho".

He stops walking to place a hand on your jaw, bringing you in for a slow kiss. Pecking you several times after which leaves you giggling as he pulls away, "I love you, baby".

Taglist: @linocvp1d @blankdyean @adeards @lomllino @brooklynie @noellllslut @djeniryuu @eternitywaveshello @drhsthl @urmomma0324 @stormy-skies-falling @dinonuguaegi

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#and just like that a work 5 years in the making is done #im kinda sad ngl #mine #sltw fic #minho #lee know #minho fanfic #minho x you #lee minho angst #lee minho smut #lee minho fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know smut #lee know imagines #stray kids fiction #stray kids smut #stray kids au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #kpop au #kpop fanfic rec

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Writing Tips!

category : atmosphere

a few tips on creating atmosphere in your wip! examples provided!

— ☢︎ —

i often find my scenes fall flat if i don’t provide insight on the time, location, and condition first. is it a rainy afternoon? foggy morning? are the characters watching the rain drip down the window at school? is the sun up or down? is it cold outside? at the very least, if you have no reason to talk about the weather or outside, have your character check the time, if possible. if they’re inside, is the room dim or bright? is it cold? what does it smell like? what are the vibes of the room? creepy? nerve-wracking? it just helps us build the atmosphere. rainy has a different effect on readers than sunny, it’s simple as that. atmosphere can impact your scenes as much as a character would. build the world around your character before they do anything — or else your readers are imaging in your character in a white room. or in a building, within a white room.

ex. describe sunlight, weather, time, if possible. describe the feeling of the room, the temperature inside or outside, if it’s dim or bright, sterile or vibrant, etc.

during stories, it might be tempting just to buzz through the plot-moving dialogue and get to the next scene, but trust me, people will put down your book if they see that! long conversations with only a few dialogue tags and no atmosphere — even if you’ve previously set it up like the last tip — are a huge turn off. humans don’t speak to each other like robots, so don’t write your characters that way! humans can work while they speak, inflect on certain words, make faces, stutter, forget what they’re saying, start a new thought right in the middle of the first one, etc!

ex. make your characters move around; messing with their hair, brushing off their pants, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair, crossing their legs, doing a task while speaking, etc. make them mess up their words and make weird faces and interrupt themselves, it makes the conversation more dynamic!

there is something lurking deep in all writers wips, and it’s the terrifying case of the disappearing character. when a group of characters are together, and some of them have dialogue together but one isn’t involved in what they’re talking about or just doesn’t have lines, they disappear from the scene until the writer realizes they’re there again. what are they doing? just standing there blankly while the others talk? oftentimes I locate this problem by imagining my scenes like a movie — who’s doing the talking and moving and whose doing nothing? make them do something, bah, humbug!

ex. make them listen to the other characters even if they aren’t involved in the conversation. make them move around, play on their phone, talk to another character in the background, do something. make them do something, i beg!

sounds, or the lack thereof, are such useful atmosphere building factors! include more sounds! if your characters in a crowd, talk about the shouting. if they’re in a hospital room, talk about the beeping of the heart monitor being all they can hear. talk about the overlapping hum of quiet voices during class, the clicking of a clock during a test, the growl of cars passing through, the crash of water on the shore, the whistle of the wind through rickety windows, the jingle of dog collars at the park, the quiet tv playing in the background, the annoying song on the car radio, etc. even the lack of sounds can be ominous and world building. but make sure you mention the lack of sound — don’t just avoid putting descriptions in your wip, then it feels unfinished. talk about how the sounds and silence makes your character feel.

ex. outside can be cars, lawn mowers, honking, animal sounds, wind, rain, thunder, leaves cracking, birds singing, crickets chirping, dogs barking. inside can be squeaky doors, tvs, phones, machines, plumbing, fans, music, rattling windows during a storm, a family member talking on the phone, etc.

a huge part of locations are people. if your characters are in public, and you describe everything perfectly but forget to put actual humans doing human things, it will still feel weird and empty. make humans do human things in public, and make your character have appropriate reactions to it.

ex. put teenagers and families in the mall, kids at the park, people rushing through the airport, families at the zoo, old people on benches, workers in uniform walking on the sidewalks, cars buzzing to and fro, etc.

now, if you’re writing horror, these might not all apply to you. in horror the lack of worldbuilding can build the atmosphere itself. the lack of sounds or teeny weenie bumps in the night, the public place being devoid of people, characters speaking with no emotion and dead eyes, no real idea what time it is or where they are or what’s happening outside of the spooky things happening to them. it builds the freaky atmosphere, but for any other genre of writing, i highly recommend building your atmosphere thoughtfully and purposefully!

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