#I saw his new design and was like “oh cool!” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deadghosy · 7 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing great!

So I saw the headcannons of reader as Catnap and Dogday and I fell in love with the way you write! So I was wondering if you could do a headcannon about the reader being bendy from bendy and the ink machine?

Like the reader can draw and bring ink creatures to help around the hotel, maybe draw some decorations for the hotel? Sometimes going full on ink demon form to protect it or just pick up their friends on their back to make them feel taller

And the reader was actually an animator at joey drew studios and died, I think that would be pretty cool!

P.s I would love if the reader was wearing the same suit bendy wore in bendy and the dark revival

HAZBIN HOTEL X BENDY!READER

Prompt: a cute “little” demon becomes a resident who helps with the designs around the hotel!

Starting off. You definitely appeared as baby bendy 😘 with ya cute ass red bow or white bow. What ever you want the bow color as you showed up to the door trying to seem professional as Charlie gushes at your cuteness and lets you in.

The picture of baby bendy in the car, yeah you have that as you literally fuckin' zoom in the hallways drinking apple juice like a bad ass kid….bendy!Reader and chibi!Reader both doing races to make sinners poor😭 lil evil asses….

I imagine Angel dust and Alastor ganging up on you as a team to insult you by your height until you grow up to ink demon from with a roar.

“HOLY SHIT-” “Oh my.” They both said as you they were blew off by the power of your roar. So you felt happy seeing them shocked to see that part of you as Charlie didn’t see it and had commented how adorable you are with your suit.

Shit you are a devil in an angel’s suit‼️

You still wore the suit you had in when you met Audrey…man you miss her. But you are getting taken care of by Charlie and her friends here. Plus her father.

You help design the banners around the place! And even your small ink minions help as well.

I can imagine bendy! Reader being like “fuck it.” Because they can’t reach for the cereal and turn into normal height looking bendy and just starts to act as if it’s normal. While in the background, the crew has pure confusion on their face. Like, “what the fuck? You can be taller?”

“Yeah! Pretty neat right?” “..Im out of here…” husk says walking away as niffty goes up to you excited to talk to you about your height.

You ran over alastor’s foot once….you never speeded over 120 mph in your whole life seeing Alastor chase after you.

I imagine you going to normal height as you are just chilling with your small or long tail swinging and husk gets curious as he picks it up with his paw. “So…this ya tail right here?” You nodded reading the new paper. “So you’re a sinner demon?” “I ain’t nothin'” you said with a smirk as you disappeared in ink.

No one knows what exactly what you are. You don’t have the basic looks to look like a sinner or a hell born. So it’s kinda confusing to other.

You’re obviously a human who died to the ink as you use to animate bendy…so you’re bendy?? Does that make since because whatever you died by is your demon form….hopefully that made sense..

You once went full ink demon mode because a sinner tried to attack at you and husk while just running errands for the hotel. You transformed getting taller with the ink covering your face as you growl and slashes at them with a giant gloved hand covered in ink. And after that husk respected you more.

“Bendy/reader, can you help me make a cute star design?” Vaggie asked as Charlie was trying to make a star gazing banner. You nodded with your cartoony smile and pulls out a marker and started to draw on the air. The star in the air becomes to life as vaggie’s eyes widen.

“Uhm…oh wow. Thanks?” Vaggie says as she walks away with question marks visible while you just smile.

Y’know those dubbed comics where bendy has an accent? I feel like that’s cannon because you and Angel would be babbling about which part of city you guys were from.

I can see sir Pentious and you doing crafts as you made him an ink cartoon flower as he made you a bracelet bead with your name on it.

Lucifer will definitely play violin as you tap dance. Just a wholesome ass moment fr 💗🦆

You one time had fat nuggets in your doom buggy as you guys had shades just chilling around the hotel like bad asses✨

You miss your original family when you were alive and working. But everytime you open your eyes, you are greeted by the sweet comfort of your new family in the hazbin hotel.

You one time made an ink sculpture of your family and you tried to hold your smile but it faltered as you cry at how you missed your family as the ink sculpture melted due to your emotions.

Alastor appeared in your room seeing you sad little state as he comforted you. He had taken a liking to you ever since you joined the crew.

I can see you being childish because of your shortness so you use it to your advantage. YOU AND ALASTOR MAKE YOUR INK DEMONS FIGHT LIKE POKÉMON 😭😭

lol imagine bendy!reader making a whole like of fake ass tarrot cards to fuck with people as you have that smirk on your face.

“You’re gonna get run over toots…watch your back..” “what. The. Fuck-”

They got ran over by a mysterious person and a car….who knew who it was…it was you, you little bastard.

When the hotel has a talent and show day or night, you remembered how you animated bendy to do ballet and tap dancing. So with your information, that’s what you did. Yeah some sinners laughed..but some aplaude as they found it cute and so did your friends

You making ink blob bracelets for your friends as you can make them solid is a goal for real.

Headcannon on how you would try to make ink sculptures, but failing as you huff in anger and smash it with a full ink demon hand as the rest of your body is fine.

Headcannon of you just accidentally leaving ink footprints as you took off your shoes once 😭 niffty doesn’t complain as she likes to clean tho

I can see Lucifer picking your small body up happy for you to be so small as he has started in his eyes. And you are like annoyed at how the cast picks you up like a baby.

LMAO THAT WALMART MEME STOPPP😭😭 LUCIFER PUTS YOU UP TO THE DAMN WALMART CAMERA HAVING ALASTOR ALSO PICK LUCI UP 😭😭

I imagine you and Alastor having either a “bad ass son x calm father” troupe or a “non-biological sibling” troupe as you two get quite along

Your little ass doom buggy is such a weapon when needing to take a troubled guest in the hotel….YOU RAN THEM OVER?! 😨 ALL PEOPLE SEE IS A SMALL ASS INK DEMON HAVING A GUEST SCREAMING AS THEY GET RUNNED OVER TO THE DOOR-

So when the angels came for the battle, you were sure damn ready as you suffocated them in ink and control them into killing their own.

After seeing your full demon form, you definitely had been seen in a different light. They don’t see you as the cute baby bendy they seen you before.

Nah nah. They see you as a grown ass person as you are not in the baby bendy phase but more like the fanart type shit looks. With your charm, you definitely bring in some customers.

HOPED YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AS THIS IS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH 🦆💗 MWAH

1K notes · View notes

reysdriver · 4 months

Note

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected.

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl.

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking.

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you.

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him.

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign.

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke.

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better.

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again.

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you.

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made.

“Absolutely not.” You replied.

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip.

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love.

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen.

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms.

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky.

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room.

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you.

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged.

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed.

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse.

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun.

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police.

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively.

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled.

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it.

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything.

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father.

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said.

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all.

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours.

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x hopper!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff

631 notes · View notes

musickgeek · 5 months

Text

Happy (SDV Sebastian x Farmer!Reader)

945 words, unedited

Warnings: None

The first time you'd met Sebastian was the first Friday after your arrival in Pelican Town. You saw him bent over the pool table, lining up his shot. Your face got hot, and butterflies flew in your stomach. He looked so at peace, in his element. The small smile on his lips, and comfortable stance he took up. You were wondering how to introduce yourself, but Sam, who you'd met earlier in the day, waved you over. Nervous, you tried to walk over as casually as possible, brushing dirt and dust off your clothes. "Hey (Y/n), these are my friends Abigail, and Sebastian." Sebastian makes a shot, knocking a few of his balls into the pockets. Sam frowns, but quickly refocuses on introductions. He bumps Sebastian's shoulder with his own, almost teasing. "Sebastian, this is the new farmer girl."

The dark haired boy looked at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Oh. You just moved in, right?" You nodded. "Cool." He pauses for a moment, as if thinking about it. "Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” You couldn't help the small laugh that came out. "I know it seems small and confining, but for me, some of the best memories of my life were made here with my grandfather." He nodded thoughtfully, accepting the answer. You found him to be so pretty, it almost embarrassed you. You'd just met the man for Yoba's sake! Oh well, you'd already decided you wanted to get to know him better.

~~~~~

You tried to speak to him every day, trying to figure out the things he liked. What do boys like him like? You came to an easy conclusion while in the mines. When you found a little piece of clear crystal. "You may think it's not much, but when in the right light," you moved it into the sun to show off how it glimmered, "it shows it's true worth." Just like him, you decided. And so your ventures into the mines became more frequent, finding colorful gems and crystals that Sebastian might like.

You would walk in the house, scuffed up and dirty, but smiling widely. Robin would look at you strangely. You'd greet her cheerfully like you weren't bleeding and bruised before disappearing down the stairs to her sons room. She was confused for weeks until Sebastian asked her to build a shelf for him to display the fruits of your labor.

~~~~~

"You know, I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me." He teased one Friday, you guys walking to the saloon together. "In your dreams!" It wasn't you fault, you thought. He was the one who plagued your mind with a late night motorcycle ride a few nights before. You found him working on his bike, and he suggested brining you along on time. You said you were scared, to which he promised to keep you safe. That moment played in your mind over and over like a broken record. You'd become a little clingier, and the fact that he'd noticed startled you. His phone chimed, luckily changing the subject. He frowned, and you asked what had happened.

"Sam isn't coming by tonight. He hurt himself on his skateboard earlier, and is stuck with Harvey tonight." Little did either of you know, it was a crafted lie designed by Sam and Abby to get you guys to hang out. "Do you know how to play pool?"

"I get the idea, but I've never actually played. I don't know how to execute it, really." He gave his little smile that you adored. "Tonight is going to be interesting." He sped up, almost giddy at the idea of sharing his skills with you, leaving you to chase after him, laughing.

~~~~~

Your skin was on fire. His body had never been so close to yours. You could feel your face burning. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hand covered yours, his chest was pressed against your back. You could smell the woodsy scent of his room on him. To the other patrons, the act was innocent. He was just showing you how to line up a shot for pool. But to you, everything about this felt like carnal sin. You felt like you could pass out. The sound of the lively talk and music faded away, all you senses focused on him. Could he feel it too? You when for the shot, but were too distracted to make a hit.

"You're even worse than Sam." He said, pulling away. "I'll just have to practice more." You insisted. "Oh, by the way, I found this for you." You pull the blue, teardrop shaped crystal out of your pocket. The shock on his face pleased you. He took it carefully, afraid of breaking it. "I really love this."

"It's no big deal." You shrug. But he shakes his head, frowning deeply. "But it is, I know the lengths you have to go to for something like this, for any of the crystals you give me. You go down there all the time, risking your life just to give me some silly trinkets. I don't even understand why." Now you frown, feeling hurt. "I thought you liked them..." He realizes his mistake, and gets panicky. "No, I do, I really do! But...I like you more. Sometimes I wait at the rivers edge for you to come back. Just to know you're safe."

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. What was he saying? "I...I can handle myself, Seb. I promise. I do it because it makes you happy." He looks down, and smiles. You so badly wanted to kiss him. "(Y/n), you make me happy."

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #sdv farmer #sdv #stardew sebastian #stardew x reader #sdv x reader #sebastian x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew sebastion x reader #sdv sebastian #stardew #fanfic writing #sdv fanfic #stardew fanfic

643 notes · View notes

batsycline69 · 4 months

Text

Chapter One: Head Above Ground, Feet in the Grave

Summary: You get a tattoo from Jason and realize your first impression may not have been spot on

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 5,576

Warnings: needles, profanity, canon-typical violence, reader has tattoos but is otherwise not described, jason doesn’t know how to flirt.

SERIES MASTERPOST | NEXT

“So. Whatcha reading?” he asks over the buzz of his needle gun. Your confused look is enough get him talking again. “Saw you with a book out front.”

As soon as he stepped out into the front thirty-five minutes after your appointment was supposed to begin, as peeved as you were, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. One of his broad shoulders leaned into the wall, his thick, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Dark curls with a patch of white at the front.

“Oh, it’s Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier,” you reply, a little surprised the guy built like a brick shithouse was asking about your reading. Then again, he’s probably just trying to make conversation.

Jason just nods.

Maybe he isn’t trying to make conversation.

The bad news is, up close, he’s even more handsome. Now you can see the little scar that angles through his eyebrow and another that curves up along his cheek. His eyes are intense as he works, his absurdly large hand has a firm grip on your forearm, guiding you as he works. He smells like cigarettes, but only just, and what you can assume is the lingering smell of the timeworn leather jacket sprawled across the chair in the corner. And all of this is bad news because this guy is obviously bad news. How can he not be, right?

It’s just this feeling, one that you couldn’t shake as soon as he sauntered towards you, the smell of cigarette smoke lingering on his worn black t-shirt. Like he’s too cool for you. Even as he’s permanently etching a skeletal bird into your arm, there’s this air about him you can’t quite place.

Before he led you back to his station, you were so certain there was going to be some sort of bikini-clad model plastered to the wall. But yet, the space is surprisingly empty. There’s a little corkboard leaning against a small table with old designs thumb-tacked to the board and not much else.

“How long have you been working here?” you ask.

Despite asking, you already kind of know the answer.

You’ve been following the shop’s Instagram for a while now. You remember the post introducing Jason, the carousel of photos demonstrating his work. Not that you’d tell him right now, but you had fallen in love with his style as soon as you saw it. The sure, thick lines. The moody shading. Bones and knives and bugs. He had no Instagram of his own for his work that you could find; only the posts in the shop with the caption ‘by Jay.’

“Couple months,” Jason replies. “I was traveling around for a while before. This is the first steady place I’ve worked.”

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. Where were you before?” you ask. It’s small talk, and you hate it, but the lack of conversation is uncomfortable in a way that usually isn’t the case. Silence doesn’t bother you. His silence does.

You wonder if his home lacks as much personality as his station. You imagine his apartment is the kind with the mattress sitting on the floor, TV on top of a folding table, and a refrigerator full of cheap beer. Something that doesn’t feel completely moved into.

He gives a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “All around,” he replies.

Even small talk seems to be off the table.

You give a curt nod of your head. A couple minutes pass, and you can’t take it anymore. “Sorry, you mind if I grab my book real fast?”

Jason nods in return, pulling the gun away. “Go for it.”

God, you feel him watching you as you slip off the table, heading towards your bag on the little couch in the corner. Why is he watching? Why is this so awkward? Is it you? Is this guy just that standoffish? You pull out your worn bookand get back into position on the table.

“You good?” he asks, his intense eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah, all good,” you say, holding the book open with one hand as the buzzing starts back up again.

This is pathetic.

Jason has spent the last few years spending his time around the worst of the worst. He’s been with assassins, arms dealers, and soldiers so bad, even the U.S. Military didn’t want them, and yet, he’s fumbling just because someone cute is reading classic literature.

Fuck.

He’s supposed to be better than this. Ever since he got back into Gotham two months ago, he’s been making deals with the worst of the worst—as far as drug dealers go—without breaking a sweat, and yet holding a conversation with you turns him into Mr. Darcy. He’s blowing it, and he cares that he’s blowing it.

At least everyone thinks he’s dead. If this had gotten out to anyone, he’d die again.

It’s been five years since he was resurrected. A couple of weeks have passed since he flew back into Gotham with another one of Talia’s connections, this time intending to stay for good. He found a little tattoo shop near Crime Alley. Close enough to keep tabs on everything, but not so close that he’d be crossing paths with Batman regularly. The last thing he needs is to run into Bruce while trying to come up on top of Gotham’s underworld. Not until everything was ready.

That’s his world. Swept off the street and recruited for a war that wasn’t even his, not really. That’s just what he was sold: security to a kid fending for himself.

Bruce may have believed he had something to show Jason about Gotham, but this city raised him more than anything. Without a stable place to call home, the city’s streets were the substitute. What more did Bruce have to teach him when Jason had already huddled for warmth in these alleys? Ran from cops, knew all the hiding spots. What did Bruce have to offer when Jason already saught comfort in a place where comfort died? In a place where hope was trying to grow on salted earth. A place so haunted, it’s more ghost than city.

Jason was made for Gotham.

After he died, Gotham fell to ruins in the greatest earthquake she’s ever seen. An anomaly. The world wanted to watch Gotham burn, abandon the city and everyone remaining inside it. Leave her buried in the fate the world deemed appropriate for a city so infected that everyone around suffered.

He knows what it means to come back again, maybe when staying gone was what should have been done.

While he learned how to kill, he learned how to tattoo. Bruce always went on about the importance of keeping their identities safe; he chose his playboy routine, and Jason chose this.

It started before Bruce even took him in. One of the older kids he used to sell stolen car parts to gave him a stick ‘n poke in the back of his dad’s auto shop. It’d only been a few weeks after his mom died. Bruce saw it within a few days of living at the manor. He didn’t comment, but Jason saw the scowl when Bruce saw the shitty skull on his ankle. He didn’t approve, and that made his chosen path all the sweeter.

In London, the guys he was staying with tattooed each other to pass the time. That’s how it all really started. He watched their hands as they worked, watched the way the ink shot into the skin. He gave his first tattoo in the seedy back room of some haunt for scumbags. He had yet to feel at home within his body again, like it was just on loan. Like his reanimation was contingent on something that could be taken away at any time.

But he kept living. And he picked up tattooing fairly quickly. He gave plenty of shitty tattoos to men whose lives ran off of fucking over innocent people. Some of them wouldn’t even live to regret his uneven lines. A good number of them, Jason watched die.

None of that, however, negates the fact that he still can’t have a conversation with you.

Every so often, he spares a glance at you as you read. You’re holding the book with one hand, awkwardly turning the page with your pinky in a way that he knows won’t last long. He’s trying to rack his brain for something, anything, to talk to you about once you need a break from your position.

When his moment finally comes, he clears his throat.

“You ever read any Virginia Woolf?” he asks.

He’s going to spoil his whole ‘asshole tattoo artist’ persona because he’s not supposed to be reading tragic modernist writers, but he can’t bring himself to fall into his usual routine. He wants to hide behind the metaphorical mask he wears when he’s not wearing his literal mask, but he just fucking can’t with you.

He doesn’t know you. You’re just someone who booked with him a few months ago. You’re a civilian, and he is supposed to be getting ready for his Gotham takeover. Now isn’t the time. He’s got work to do.

Unsurprisingly, you seem caught off guard by his question when you look up from your book. You try to regain your composure. You seem like someone who wants to be polite like that. Jason’s eyes land on your finger as it slips into your book to hold your place.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve read a couple of hers.”

Jason gives a single nod of his head. He breathes as if steadying his aim to shoot. “I’m reading Mrs. Dalloway right now,” he says.

If you were someone he had to threaten, it would be going better than this. He could get you to tell him all of your secrets in under a minute no problem. But he doesn’t actually have to know how to do any of this to know that’s the wrong way to go about it. Besides, how could he forgive himself if he brought you into Red Hood’s world? You don’t belong there.

“Are you much of a reader then?” you ask.

Jason recognizes it for what it is. You’re holding out a hand, practically guiding him into a conversation just like you’ve tried so many times. You notice he’s trying too.

His lip quirks up a bit at the corner. “Yeah, I am. But don’t tell anyone. If they figure out I’m not an idiot, they may ask me to help out more.”

You graciously laugh at his joke.

He likes your laugh. It’s soft, like your skin. He’s tried to not think about it, but he has noticed. He knows you’re going to take good care of the bird carcass he’s tattooing.

When you reached out and told him what you wanted, he knew he couldn’t possibly turn the idea down. He did always have a fucked up sense of humor.

You’ll never know what makes this funny. He can’t do that to you. Maybe you can know Jason the tattoo artist, but you can’t know Red Hood.

Jason looks at you with a softness you miss when you glance away for a minute. “I’ve got a Metamorphosis tattoo over here,” he says, briefly raising the arm holding yours down.

You turn your head, trying to get a look of his Kafka tattoo, and Jason feels a little bit of warmth growing in his chest, even if he desperately wishes he didn’t. He’s getting way ahead of himself like a kid. It’s going to hurt that much more when you realize all the reasons you shouldn’t get involved with him. He shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself. He shouldn’t be getting distracted. This job isn’t for him to make connections with avid readers; he’s here to know what’s happening and when.

For all he knows, you could be a spy, aware of the moves he’s trying to make. Could work for the Penguin. But he’s aware that’s a Bruce level paranoid thought, and he’s not proud to admit that. His ties to Bruce are supposed to be severed forever.

Two hours pass far less painfully than you were expecting. Not in the literal sense, because your arm has started to get sore, but in the sense that you and Jason are finally actually talking, more or less. You take a break, trying to get the blood flow back into your arm from being at an angle for so long.

Your stomach started rumbling half an hour ago, and now you’re scrolling through your phone, chatting with Jason on what you should order. He says by the time food would get here, he’d likely be finished up.

Jason’s already told you he doesn’t do a lot of delivery. He says it’s because things are always fresher at the restaurant.

After the last couple of hours spent talking literature, you know your first impression of him was wrong—there’s a joke about books and their covers somewhere in there—but be that as it may, you still haven’t quite figured him as the sort of guy that’s going to be overly snobby about food.

He says he cooks, and you believe him, more because you like to indulge in the thought of him knowing his way around a kitchen. You also just want to believe it for the sake of justifying the crush you feel creeping in every time he shifts your arm.

You’re not going to hold your breath hoping he opens up to you, but you can tell he’s someone with a story. Someone with history. And that’s something you can respect, because you’ve got your own past you’d rather not shell out just because your tattoo artist is hot. That doesn’t stop your mind from wandering though, trying to fill in the blanks.

Maybe he did some sort of stint in the military. That’s your first guess, at least. You didn’t get any more information on the tattoos he’d done ‘all over,’ and he doesn’t talk about it anymore, so you can’t really figure out anything more than that. You also consider the fact that it’s Gotham, and shit just happens. It’s not your right to meddle in whatever tragedy this city has doled out for him.

“One of the apprentices orders delivery here a lot,” Jason says, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s not helpful, nor does it answer my question,” you say. “Even if you don’t get things delivered, you still have to know what’s good around here, right? You’re not bringing a little brown bag lunch to work every day.”

“And what if I do?” Jason asks. His voice is low, almost like he’s daring you. The features on his handsome face are serious, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that hints he’s teasing you. And damn those eyes. You’re thankful he’s been spending the majority of your appointment staring down at your arm, because you’re not sure you’d survive two hours of looking at him, seeing where the thin ring of blue around his iris before it bleeds into vivid green.

You laugh. “Then I’d admire your dedication.”

You think he’s mostly being difficult because you offered to buy him food, a perfectly normal thing to do. But explaining to him that you’ve offered to everyone you’ve gotten a tattoo from doesn’t seem to change his mind. He’s stubborn, that much you can tell.

As you continue to scroll your phone, silence settles between the two of you. The silence doesn’t feel so oppressive this time, not weighted by awkwardness and uncertainty. Now it feels like a surrender. Neither of you bring up the beginning of the appointment. Not how he was late, not the tension that seemed to linger between the two of you, not how convinced you were that he actually hated the fact that you were sitting in his session.

“The fries at Wally’s are the best in Gotham.”

His voice comes from behind you, and you jump, turning over your shoulder quickly. He’s peering over your shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. You hadn’t even heard him get up from his stool. Last you’d looked his way, he was sitting across from you.

You spit out a curse. “When did you get back there?” you ask, clutching your chest with overdramatic flair.

“What, you didn’t see me get up?” he asks.

You scoff. “No, I didn’t see you get up. What are you, some kind of fucking ghost?”

And Jason laughs.

At the best of the times, you consider yourself a relatively dignified individual. Maybe it’s a bit of flattery, but regardless, that’s what you’d like to believe. And yet, there’s something so incredibly rare about the sound of Jason’s laughter, something that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. It’s like hearing something long forgotten. Like catching the song of a bird long thought extinct. This isn’t the playful scoff of laughter like when you’d said maybe Northanger Abbey was your favorite Jane Austen book, and he’d said you seemed more like an Elizabeth Bennett than a Catherine Morland; this seems like something secret. Something reserved.

Even if the sound makes your stomach flip, your foul language hardly seems funny enough to warrant such a laugh. Your silly off-handed joke doesn’t seem worthy of the burst of laughter that bubbles up from his wide chest.

“I think the hunger’s getting to you,” Jason replies finally when the laughter settles. He nudges his head back towards your phone to get back on topic. “Wally’s is good.”

You have to yank yourself from your thoughts and will yourself to nod. “Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling like such a loser for the way a single laugh could knock you off your track so quickly. You go back to scrolling through the menu to give yourself something other than gawk at him. “So fries. What else is good?” you ask, not daring to raise your eyes.

Jason crosses back over to his stool and sits. Your face gets hot as you feel self-consciousness creep up thinking maybe you’d been obvious, worried you’ll scare him off. But before you know it, he’s naming off his favorite things. And yeah, maybe you bought more than you alone could eat, and maybe you got the burger he spent a few minutes gushing about. If he doesn’t want it now, he can save it for later.

But nearly an hour later, you have a whole spread of junk food in Jason’s station and a finished bird skeleton plastic wrapped on your arm. Jason rolls his eyes at your generosity, and you threaten to eat everything you bought all by yourself, but he eats the burger and steals the fries you jokingly told him to keep his hands off of.

“So can I ask why you were so late?” you ask.

You’re toeing your boundaries. Maybe you’re intentionally trying to press your luck. Part of you knows you maybe shouldn’t ask. But you do it anyway.

Jason looks up from his burger, wiping a small smear of ketchup off his lip. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” He smirks when he sees you quirk your eyebrow. He was thirty-five minutes late; of course you already think he’s an asshole. At least he’s a good sport about it. “I was out smoking.”

“Mm,” you say with a mockingly serious nod of your head. “Leaning up against a wall, cigarette in one hand, Mrs. Dalloway in the other. I guess you must be so cool I have to immediately forgive you,” you say sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

You smirk and go back to eating your food, unaware of Jason’s subtle gaze your way now that your attention has been diverted.

Jason’s used to a somewhat infrequent eating schedule, otherwise known as he rolls out of bed half an hour before he’s supposed to be at the shop, which doesn’t give him much time to eat. And by the time he’s done with his shift, he’s usually starved. He tries to eat an hour before kicking anyone’s ass so he doesn’t cramp up, so that involves him cramming whatever leftovers he has in the fridge into his mouth the second he gets back to his apartment. Then, he goes back out to work.

He’s become somewhat of a late night chef, putting together whatever he can make as quickly and easily as possible. The sort of skills he’d picked up when he was all on his own, trying to keep himself fed from whatever was available, doing whatever he could to make the best of a bad situation. Shoplifting butter and pasta, crushing up old Corn Flakes in a bag with a hammer to put on top. It was something his mom had done. Something he didn’t want to give up.

For the past two hours, he’s been hoping you’ll say something stupid, like how cool you think Batman is.Instead, he finds you kind in a way he doesn’t really see that often. You tolerate his shit to a certain point, and you push back when he goes too far.

People are scared of Jason, hood on or not. And they should be. They see his scars, his tattoos, his sheer size, and they cross the street. They turn their eyes as he buys bread at the grocery store. They can see him for what he is. But for some reason, you don’t. At least not now.

He’s mapping out his plan of how to take over the city, and you’re giving him shit for being late to an appointment for a job he only has for information. The fact that he met you is just a blip in the greater scheme of things, and yet that’s going to be what he walks away from today thinking about.

A guy came into the shop earlier. A local dealer. Jason played cool, pretended he didn’t have an idea who the guy was. This lowlife didn’t need to know Jason already knew where he picked up his supplies. He’d asked if the guy had any plans for the day, as if Jason didn’t already know about a shipment coming in late tonight. Jason’s plans for the evening had been clear. All he had to do was get through one more appointment.

Except that appointment had been yours.

The shop is closed now. A few stations away, one of Jason’s coworkers is still working. In the lull as you both eat, the faint buzzing of the needle and music playing from the speakers up front. Even if Jason wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s comfortable with you, there’s something of a surrender in the time you spend together.

You don’t know the things he’s going to do once you leave, and you wouldn’t assume them of him. What are you seeing in him because it’s sure as shit not something he’s ever seen himself.

At some point, Jason knows he’s going to fuck it all up. You’ll probably get ready to leave, and he’ll say something as you walk out the door that will make you question all of this. Make you second guess this good opinion of him you’ve managed to come up with. It’ll be for your own good.

His eyes drift over to your arm, your bicep still wrapped up in plastic. He can still feel the warmth of your skin lingering on his palm.

For so long, he’d been used to the dull cold of the apartment he squatted in, frigid air seeping in through neglected walls. As hard as he tries not to, he remembers arriving at Wayne Manor for the first time. He’d forgotten home could be so warm.

The warmth of your arm felt like that.

Since coming back in Gotham, he’d given plenty of tattoos, touched plenty of arms. Body heat is body heat, except when it’s yours.

“Where do you go from here?” Jason asks, looking up from his burger.

You shrug your shoulders. “Home, probably. Gonna get that good post-tattoo sleep.”

It’s cold out. You’re bundled up in your coat, aware of the tenderness of your arm where the fabric brushes up against the flesh.

You’re walking towards your train stop. The sounds of sirens echo somewhere in the distance. Purple light filters out through the blinds of one of the apartments you pass, loud bass temporarily overpowering the distant wail of emergency vehicles for a moment as you walk by, until it fizzles back out into quiet. As the music fades, you hear the sound of a couple arguing from an apartment somewhere up above you.

Across from the stairs up to the station is a bar, patrons hanging around outside smoking cigarettes and laughing. You can feel a huddle of men watching you as you move, but you don’t glance their way, just make your way up the stairs.

Yellow-tinged lights line the station, a lamp every fifteen feet or so. From what you can see in the beams of light weakly dispersing from the streetlamps, you’re alone. You find a spot under a nice shelter, though nice is relative considering the lingering smell of piss and obscene graffiti on the walls, but it’s not out in the open where anyone stumbling onto the stop will find you.

The light above you flickers sporadically. You wish there was somewhere else you could wait.

Jason hadn’t seemed thrilled that you were going out to wait for the train all on your own, but you assured him, somewhat indignant, you could handle yourself.

“You sat really well,” he’d said, and you couldn’t help but entertain the idea of inviting him along on the train with you, but you were not going to stoop to that level.

The sounds of approaching footsteps reminds you to keep your focus. You can kick your feet about Jason once you get back to your apartment.

Three guys stumble up the stairs. And just your fucking luck, you’re pretty sure they’re the guys from outside the bar. They’re laughing, and their voices carry from the opposite side of the tracks. You hope they’re going northbound, that they’ll have no reason to cross the tracks. You keep your eyes fixed away from them, down the tracks, now feeling even more impatient for the arrival your train, hoping somehow it will turn you invisible.

But their boisterous conversation suddenly turns much quieter.

Your shoulders tense, and as subtly as you can, you try to slip your hand into your bag for your pepper spray. Blindly, you feel around, trying to move as little as possible so as to not draw any more attention to yourself, because you have no doubts you’re the reason their conversation has become so hushed. If this doesn’t end horribly, you’ll have to try to remember to clear out all of the junk you have stashed away.

One of the men laughs, and then their conversation stops all together.

Your fingers curl around the tube of spray in your purse.

Without looking, you know they’re moving towards you now. Their shuffled, stumbling footsteps are growing louder. They’re drunk and not looking for their night to be over just yet. Unfortunately, you just happened to be in their way while they were looking for the next phase of the evening.

“Hey!” one yells.

You don’t acknowledge him. Maybe they’ll be drunk enough to think you genuinely can’t hear them and give up. It’s wishful thinking, but what does that matter?

Now you’re regretting pretending you were so tough for Jason because these guys sure as shit wouldn’t even give you a second glance if you were standing next to him.

They’ve crossed the tracks now, and there’s still no sign of train headlights. Your grip on the pepper spray tightens, not wanting it to slip now that your heart is starting to race.

“Hey! You!”

You don’t look.

One of them grabs your arm and tugs you out from the shelter. You wince at the contact against the fresh tattoo. “We’re talking to you,” he laughs.

You’re about to use your pepper spray when it clatters to the ground.

All three men look down at it.

“What’s this?” the second man says, bending down and picking it up.

But before any of them can say anything else, a figure just outside of the ring of light the four of you are standing under. You can’t make out any details about him besides the sheer size of him.

“Walk away while you still can,” he growls. The sound of his voice isn’t quite right. It sounds distorted. Your skin prickles with nerves from the sound of it.

The man who picked up your pepper spray turns it towards the figure, threatening to spray.

The figure just chuckles. It sounds cold, metallic. The sound of a gun cocking follows as the figure steps just into the light. The pepper spray wouldn’t do the man any good.

A man wearing a red helmet walks into sight, gun trained on the man holding my arm, but his grip drops instantaneously as he knocks through his other two friends to run, but the other two follow behind almost immediately.

And that leaves you and the guy in the helmet alone.

Gotham has its fill of guys in mask, and sure, there seems to be a new one popping up all the time, but you don’t know this one.

You look up at him, eyes wide with fright. The second the men are gone, he puts the gun back in one of the holsters on his thick thighs, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has them. You don’t know who this guy is, who he works with, whether he’s any better than that group of men or just more armed.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t say anything. He has a voice modifier, you realize now, though you piece that together slowly.

After a beat, you nod your head. Your hand curls over your throbbing arm. You don’t like that you can’t see where he’s looking. Just two unblinking white voids where his eyes must be. “Yeah,” you breathe. Your eyes fall on your pepper spray. The man holding it must have dropped it when he ran.

When it’s clear you’re not moving to pick it up, the man bends down and grabs it. He holds out a gloved hand, offering it back to you.

Your trembling hand raises and you take it from him, offering a barely audible thanks as you slip it back into your bag.

He nods.

There’s still no sign of a train, and he’s not moving.

“I can give you a ride someplace. If you want.”

Don’t take rides from strangers. You’d heard it just as much as anyone, and the man standing before you is the definition of a stranger. You can’t even see his face; you have no idea who he is beneath that helmet. The one thing you do know is he has a gun, and he’s built like a fridge.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, but his modulated reassurances don’t ease your concern. He senses your hesitation and takes a step back. “Do you want me to leave?”

A few more seconds pass as you consider the question. What if those guys come back? What if some other group comes along? But is giving your home address to the guy with a gun a better idea? And would him standing beside you as you wait for your train make you feel any safer? Could you so willingly accept he wasn’t going to just wait for the moment your guard is down to do something, just the way this city works?

Finally, you shake your head. Neither decision seems like the right one to make. But he did help you. Now you just have to hope to god he’s not going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

You want to ask if he’s one of Batman’s friends, but you don’t find the words.

Instead, you two fall into a silence. For you, it’s tense. You wonder if he feels the same, or if this is just a regular night for him. He stands near you but keeps his distance, like he’s aware how intimidating he could be.

The train is so late. There must be some hold up. One of Gotham’s usuals causing a delay in public transit. Go fucking figure.

“Are you new?” you ask finally. If the train never comes, you might end up taking him up on his offer for a ride, so you may as well try and figure something out about him. Any sort of indication of if you can trust him or not.

There’s another distorted chuckle, though somehow, this one seems less malicious than earlier when threatened with your pepper spray. “You could say that.”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you don’t.

Silence settles between you again. You can see the lights of the train in the distance. You’re hoping that nothing happens on the train. All you want is to crash into your bed.

The man in the red helmet stands beside you, not pushing any further to make conversation. He waits with you. As it screeches to a halt in front of you, you turn to thank him, but you notice he’s already gone.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #x reader

420 notes · View notes

deconstructthesoup · 9 months

Text

Okay, now that all of the Bad Kids have their new art out... I can finally freak out/gush over/analyze it, because I didn't have the energy to do posts for every single one.

GUYS

Fig!!! My girl!!! The mismatched shoelaces! The bass guitar from Gorthalax! The phoenix feather earring for Ayda! The fishnet! The classic leather jacket/gray band shirt/red pleated skirt combo! The fingerless gloves! THE CHAIN WALLET!

KRISTEN IS BUTCH. Let me repeat that---KRISTEN! IS! BUTCH! And she's wearing the yellow jumpsuit that we saw in her figurine but she still has the purple in her backpack and her staff and her TIE-DIE SPORTS BRA! And she's got a new hairstyle! And a rainbow bracelet AND a lesbian bracelet! THE TEDDY BEAR! THE ICE CREAM SANDWICHES!

RIZ HAS AN UNDERCUT AND GLASSES AND HE KEPT HIS TATTOOS!!!! We've got the briefcase! We've got the angelic weapons! We've got the sword of shadows! We've got GADGETS! WE EVEN HAVE ARO/ACE RINGS! He looks so cool and nifty and crafty and BADASS! My boy has grown!

Gorgug. Oh my god, I can FEEL the "going into a worry" energy radiating from this. But he's got the axe! He's got artificer goggles and tools and a rucksack! He's FINALLY got the emo ripped jeans that he always deserved! He looks so sweet and huggable and perfect! AND HE HAS THE BIG HEADPHONES STILL!

ADAINE. My god. I love this girl so much and her art is perfect. She has patches on her jacket! We can see the cool design on her shirt! She's got high-fantasy boots and belts and she's got her new arcane sword! BOGGY IS THERE! And she looks so lovely and cool and her hair, oh my god, her hair is perfect! I'm so proud of her!

And lastly, the man, the myth, the LEGEND. Fabian looks perfect. Everything from the sword to the sheet to the expression to the tap shoes is spot-on. And his outfit? He's got harem pants! He's got a stylish shirt! He's got wraps around his hands! He's doing a dance move! Man-bun Fabian is now officially canon!

(Also, I'm never gonna shut up about how the Bad Kids are now all spellcasters, and almost all of them are different than how they were in freshman year because that's how growing up works! Fig's ditched College of Whispers as she learns to be truer to herself and has claimed the coolness of College of Lore, and she's got some warlock action to be closer to her dad! Kristen's a Twilight Domain cleric instead of the Life Domain, and I remember being so excited when that became official because that domain is so freaking cool! Riz is an Arcane Trickster, just! Like! Penny! Gorgug's an artificer as well as a barbarian, which is one of my favorite classes, and it looks like he's leaning even further into it! And we can't forget Fabian double-classing as a College of Swords bard! It's so beautiful! It's amazing! Maybe we'll get Adaine doing a martial multiclass to round out the "we're doing different things!" ANYTHING'S POSSIBLE!)

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fig faeth #fabian seacaster #adaine abernant #adaine o'shaughnessey #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #i'm never gonna shut up about this art #it's healed me i swear to god it's perfect

1K notes · View notes

0omillo0 · 15 days

Text

MODEL! HYUNJIN X FEM! MODEL! READER

autor’s note: hi! this is my first post, I hope you’ll like it!

warnings: none!! pure fluff

Hyunjin, a renowned Versace model and gifted artist, has grown used to the fast-paced world of fashion. But when Y/N, a new model, steps into the scene, her authenticity catches his eye. As their paths intertwine, Hyunjin finds himself drawn not just to her beauty, but to something deeper—especially when he discovers a personal connection to his art in her life.

The lights above the runway glowed bright as you walked, your heart racing with every step. It was your first major show—Versace, no less—and the pressure of the fashion world felt like it was resting squarely on your shoulders. You kept your face composed, though. It was the life you had chosen, after all.

As you reached the end of the runway and struck your final pose, you caught a glimpse of someone standing backstage. Hwang Hyunjin. A name you had heard whispered many times, both in the modeling industry and beyond. He was already legendary as a Versace model—and as an artist. He stood with that ethereal grace, watching the runway with a calm confidence. His aura drew you in instantly.

Backstage, the models buzzed with excitement, but you found yourself scanning the room for Hyunjin. You weren’t sure why—maybe it was the effortless way he carried himself, or the way his expressive eyes seemed to speak without words. But there he was, standing near a rack of designer outfits, quietly sketching in a notebook.

He must have felt your gaze, because his eyes lifted from the page and met yours.

You blinked and quickly turned away, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

A moment later, you heard a voice behind you. “Nervous?”

Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with Hyunjin. His smile was small but warm, and it made your heart stutter. “A little,” you admitted, forcing yourself to breathe.

“You didn’t show it out there. You looked great.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I would survive that.”

He chuckled, his laughter soft and genuine. “We all feel that way at first. Trust me.”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. “You were sketching something?”

“Oh,” he glanced down at the notebook in his hand, almost shyly, “yeah, just passing time. It’s nothing.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” you said without thinking. His sketches were famous—everyone knew Hyunjin wasn’t just a model but an incredible artist. His works sold out faster than any runway show.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at your comment, looking a little surprised, but his smile grew just a bit wider. “Maybe one day you’ll see for yourself.”

---

Days turned into weeks, and as more Versace events brought you together, you and Hyunjin grew closer. What began as polite conversations evolved into genuine exchanges—talks about art, fashion, and life beyond the glitz and glamor. He was different from the others. Though he was breathtaking in every way, Hyunjin never acted like it. Instead, he carried himself with a quiet humility, a soul deeper than the world around him realized.

One evening, after a long day of fittings, you sat backstage, scrolling through your phone to relax. Hyunjin approached, as he often did these days, and sat beside you. His presence had become comforting.

"What are you looking at?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing special," you said, not thinking much of it as you showed him your phone. But his eyes widened slightly when he saw your lock screen.

It was one of his paintings—a swirling combination of colors and emotion that you had seen in an exhibition once. You loved how raw and alive it felt, and you had put it as your wallpaper without realizing Hyunjin might ever see it.

"That’s... my painting," he said softly, his voice almost touched with disbelief.

You felt a sudden rush of heat rise to your face. "Oh my god, I—yeah, it is. I didn’t think you'd—uh, I really loved it. It just felt so... powerful. I hope that's not weird."

He stared at the screen for a long moment before meeting your eyes. His usual calm demeanor had shifted, and for the first time, you saw something vulnerable in his expression.

"It’s not weird," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "It’s... actually really special."

His hand brushed against yours as he handed your phone back, and neither of you moved away. The air between you seemed to thicken with something unspoken.

"You know," Hyunjin began, his gaze dropping for a second before looking back up, "people don’t usually talk about my art like that. They just think of me as a model."

"I don’t," you said softly. "I think you’re an incredible artist."

Hyunjin looked at you like you had said something life-changing. His hand stayed close to yours, and you felt a magnetic pull between you, as if something deeper had just clicked into place.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice almost fragile. "I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

---

As weeks passed, the connection between you and Hyunjin only deepened. The fashion shows continued, the flashing lights, the crowds, the interviews—but somehow, when you were with him, it all faded into the background.

He would seek you out between shoots, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn’t explain. His attention to detail, the way he viewed the world through an artistic lens, the kindness in his words—it made your heart race every time you saw him.

One evening, after a long day of rehearsals, the two of you found yourselves alone in the studio. Hyunjin was working on a painting in the corner while you sat nearby, watching him with quiet admiration. He glanced at you every so often, his eyes soft.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Of course."

"Why my painting?" he asked, his voice careful, but curious. "Out of all the art you could’ve chosen, why mine?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "Because it felt real. When I saw it, I felt something… like it was a piece of your soul. It wasn’t just a pretty picture—it had emotion, depth. I could see you in it."

Hyunjin stared at you for a long moment, something intense flickering in his gaze. He set his brush down and took a slow step closer.

"You saw me in it?" he repeated, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

"Yeah," you nodded, holding his gaze. "I did."

Hyunjin's breath hitched, and in that moment, something shifted between you. He reached out, gently taking your hand. His touch was warm, and his thumb brushed over your skin as if testing whether this was real.

"I see you too, Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than you know."

You stared up at him, your heart pounding as he stepped closer. His face was inches from yours now, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. And in that quiet space, where words seemed unnecessary, Hyunjin leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

The world faded away, and for a moment, there was only the two of you—two artists, two souls, finding each other in the midst of the chaos.

———

I hope you enjoyed this story! Requests are open!!

#stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #hyunjin fluff

271 notes · View notes

obessedwithfictionalmen · 7 months

Text

Training

Joe Rantz X Ulbrickson!Reader

Summary: When Joe Rantz meets his coach's daughter. He develops a crush...

Warning: 18+/ blowjob/ Swearing/ Mean Joyce (she's a sweetheart, but in this, she's annoying)/ historical sexism/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: Guys! I just watched The boys in the Boat and I'm in love with Joe Rantz. Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy❤️

The first training for the new rowing team. Al Ulbrickson, his daughter and other people made their way to the dock. ‘’Honey, can you go upstairs? The boys need their maximum focus, it’s their first training and I don’t want them to be distracted by you.’’ Her father asked. Normally, she would’ve complained, saying it wasn’t fair. But her father was already stressed, so she nodded and went upstairs, to watch the training while she did her homework. She was studying to be a teacher, even though it wasn’t her first choice, she wanted to help design the boats, but engineering wasn’t an option for woman. ‘’Distracting, yeah, my outfit is distracting, its like a million degrees outside, try wearing a blouse!’’ she whispered, complaining about her father. She also wore pants, just like her mother. She liked skirts, but pants were better. She pulled her things out of her bag and started to work.

He was exhausted and his body hurt. The other guys on the team went away, but when he saw a light upstairs, he decided to let his curiosity win. She heard footsteps coming up, but when a man that was not her dad opened the door, she was surprised. But she recognized him, he was in class with her. ‘’Oh, sorry I thought the room was empty. ‘’ He said. ‘’Hey you’re Joe Rantz, right?’’ she asked. He looked at her, he thought that she was beautiful, and really cool for wearing pants. ‘’Yeah, but I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.’’ he said, shyly. ‘’Don’t worry, I’m Y/n’’ she extended her hand. They shook hands. His were rough, it showed that his body was tired. ‘’Rough day?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, what are you doing up here alone?’’ he asked. ‘’Uh, my dad is, uh, the coach’’ she mumbled. ‘’And he didn’t want me to be by the dock, he was scared that I would distract the boys.’’ She was nervous, but for no reason at all. He was really handsome, and it intimidated her, usually, she didn’t have trouble speaking with boys. But that blonde boy was making it hard to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Well, he’s right, you’re really pretty, and I would’ve been distracted.’’ He flirted. She blushed and bit her bottom lip. Just when she was going to say something, her dad comes in the office. ‘’Y/n let’s – Joe, what are you doing here?’’ he asks. ‘’Nothing coach, I, uh, I thought someone let one of the lights open, so I came to check’’ he stutters. ‘’It’s okay, dad, he and I have a class together, I know him’’ Y/n came to his rescue. ‘’Alright, go home, get some rest. Come on Y/n, I’ll bring you back to your dorm.’’ He spoke. She decided to stay on campus, she wanted her parents to have the house for themselves and she wanted the hole experience.

Weeks passed since they first met, they kept talking and they sat next to each other in class. But now, he couldn’t be fins, today was the first race and coach wanted them to be there early. Joe was at the library, when he was about to leave, a girl he went to school with stopped him. ‘’You’re Joe Rantz, I remember you, you had a huge crush on me in 4th grade’’ Joyce rambled. Joe wanted nothing more than leave, to avoid being late, but Joyce was holding him. Y/n was running in the halls to try and find the missing blonde, when she ran past the library, she finally found him, with Joyce. She entered the room, sweating from the running she just did. ‘’Finally, Joe!’’ she said, walking up to him. Joyce stared at her, judging her. ‘’Joe, we have to go, you’re almost late.’’ She panted. ‘’Hi, I’m Joyce! And this is Joe, but he’s nervous right now, so he’s not very chatty’’ she said. Y/n wanted to roll her eyes, but she managed to put a fake smile on her lips. ‘’Nice to meet you, and I know who he is. Come on’’ he was packing his stuff as Joyce walked away. ‘’By the way, did you ever lose that crush?’’ she teased as she left the room. Joe wanted to explain that she was just a friend, and an annoying fan. ‘’Y/n – ‘’ she cut him off. ‘’I don’t care, explain later, you have to go!’’ she rushed him.

He'd just won the race! He felt so happy! He’d work so hard to get there, and now he just won his first race. She felt so happy! Her dad’s team just won! They were gonna have a party to celebrate. She decided to leave to go and get ready, she had the perfect dress for the occasion. It was a baby blue long dress with small puffy short sleeves. It was simple, but really pretty, she let her long hair down and putted white heels on. 2 hours later, she stepped inside the reception room, with the loud music. She didn’t see Joe, but he saw her. The second she stepped in the room, he spotted her. Joyce was becoming a problem, not wanting to leave him. ‘’Joyce, you’re really great, but please I need space.’’ He said, trying not to sound mean. The second she left him, Joe almost ran to Y/n. She saw him walking towards her, Joyce was not with him, so she smiled. ‘’Hi!’’ he said. She had to lean in to reach his ear do they could hear the other. ‘’Hi, congratulations on the win!’’ she said. He had trouble hearing her. After they tried to yell in the other’s ear, the decided to go somewhere quiet. They went to her dorm room, she was on the first floor, the only room there. Being the Coach’s daughter had its privileges. When she shut the door, they were both standing up. ‘’Look, Y/n about earlier. – ‘’ he begun. ‘’Joe, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re an adult, you do what you want, with who you want, as long as it doesn’t affect the team, your okay’’ she said, hiding the pain in her voice. She didn’t want him to be with Joyce. She developed a crush on him over the past weeks. He did too, he thought she was amazing, and so smart. ‘’Y/n, I don’t care about Joyce. And I don’t have a crush on her, I have a crush on you!’’ he confessed, his confession wasn’t supposed to be heard. She blushed and smile. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry I – ‘’ she cut him off by quickly kissing him. She kissed him before her brain starts to panic. When they broke the kiss, he was red, so was she. ‘’I have a crush on you too, Joe’’ she admitted. She saw that he was not believing what just happened, so she pulled him by the tie and kissed him again. ‘’You deserve a reward for your win today’’ she whispered.

He wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t the most experienced person on earth. When she said those words, he thought he was going to faint. ‘’I know your stiff, and we don’t want to make it worse, sit down’’ she said, pointing her bed. He didn’t know what she was going to do, but when she straddled his lap to kiss him, he knew that she was in charge. ‘’You’re okay with this?’’ she asked him. He nodded and kissed her again. ‘’You trust me?’’ he nodded again. She felt him get hard underneath her, so when she dropped to her knees, she took his pants with her. He never got sucked before, the guys on the team said it was amazing, he was about to find out. She spat on his dick, before taking him in her mouth. He was big, but she’d done it before, so she didn’t gag. She started to bob her head at a medium pace, not wanting to torture him, but not making him cum too fast. ‘’Holy shit’’ he moaned as his hand found her hair. He felt really good, he was so excited. He just won a race, and the girl he has a crush on, feels the same thing, and is currently sucking him off. He was in heaven. She felt him jerk his hips a little, after all, he didn’t do it for a long time. And he had roommates, it was hard to jerk off. She took him further down her throat, making him moan again. ‘’Y/n, oh my, this is a-a-amazing. Shit’’ his brain was starting to malfunction. She felt him twitch in her mouth, she moaned on his dick. The vibration from the sound she just made drove him crazy. ‘’ I’m gonna cum, shit Y/n, I’m gonna – ‘’ his sentence was cut short by his orgasm. His sperm went down her throat as she swallowed. He was feeling euphoric. She got up, wiping her mouth. She smiled at him, seeing how beautiful he was.

‘’Thank you, it was amazing.’’ He praised her. She blushed and looked at him while he laid down in her bed. She went to lay next to him. ‘’I’m really proud of you, Joe Rantz’’ she whispered. ‘’And I really like you, Y/n Ulbrickson’’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘’When you win in Berlin, would you let me wear the gold medal?’’ she asked him. ‘’Of course I will, so does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?’’ he asked. ‘’Do you want me to be your girlfriend?’’ she asked, joy in her voice. ‘’I would love for you to be my girlfriend’’ he replied. ‘’Then yes, I’m your girlfriend, Joe.’’

#joe rantz x reader #joe rantz #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner #boys in the boat

402 notes · View notes

tmntxthings · 16 days

Note

(First of saw your recent ask with the anon and I hope you’re feeling a bit better since answering that! Please don’t rush to answer this or your other requests and i hope you feel better soon!)

I AM CHEWING ON YOUR DONNIE X READER WORKS OML BRO WHAT ARE YOU FEEDING YOUR INNER WRITER YOUR WORK IS ✨DIVINE✨ 😔👌

I cant resist making a request but you know Donnie flies/hovers with his battle shell in some episodes right to get around?? So what if Donnie having an s/o who is fascinated by the idea of flying, so one day, after much pestering Donnie gives in and decides to fly them around New York for a bit. BUT only if he is there with them, cuz Donnie is not about to have a stress induced heart

attack if they loose balance.

Donnie himself doesn’t really understand the fascination with flying cuz….well nothing is especially different, it’s just the city but from high up. But then mid sentence he looks to his partner and stares in silent awe at the fascination twinkling in their eyes as they admire the view??

I’m sorry I’m such a goddam sucker for this sort of stuff

一∑ Nights Like These 。・゜・

author’s notes: you paint a pretty picture anon, I could see it all play out thru my head! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, unedited

—————————————————————————

“Y’know what would be cool?”

Donatello blinked, his stare deadpanned. He was over this. You had asked so many times already. And each time, he had given you his answer. A resounding no. So he continued to tap at his phone while you sidled up next to him on the couch.

“Donnieeeeeee!”

A drawn eyebrow twitched. He wasn’t going to deign that with a response. You were being trivial at this point.

“Please!”

He let out a long sigh. Clicking his phone shut as dark irises finally turned in your direction. By this point it was clear you were never going to let it go. The word no, didn’t exist in your vocabulary. At least not when it came to the possibility of flying.

With his attention now on you, a speech was suddenly underway.

“I’ll do everything you say! Take a whole Donnie-training-course on how to fly a jetpack!! Just let me try! Please! Pretty please!”

You sure did know how to beg. Maybe it was unfair of him. But he didn’t like the idea of you in the air at all. You weren’t exactly known for coordination. You sucked at driving video games. How would you be able to command a jetpack that could go from zero to a hundred in seconds flat?

It was dangerous.

You could get injured or worse! There were so many terrible scenarios that ran through Donnie’s mind, he almost went back on his phone. But your hands latched onto his arm, pulling his thoughts back to the here and now.

“Nothing bad will happen! You’ll be right there beside me!!”

It was weird how you knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to sway him. Maybe his face was an open book, or maybe you just knew how to read him too well. This time his sigh was one of defeat.

You cheered.

After many, many lessons Donnie finally felt it was safe enough for you to put the jetpack on.

By this point you knew what all of the buttons did. All sorts of emergency protocols. And you may even be considered a certified pilot depending on the country.

Rigorous couldn’t even begin to describe what regiment Donnie had put you through. But it all paid off in the end. Because now you were strapped in.

“Alright, looks like it fits. How does it feel? I designed this one according to your specs.”

Donnie was circling around you. A hand underneath his chin as he looked for a reason to call the whole thing off. But you were on the moon.

“It’s perfect! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Finally!! We get to fly together!!”

How could he shatter that bright smile of yours now? He’d put this off long enough. So he nodded, and led the charge out of the lair.

“Remember, if you feel out of control—“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Don, I know! Stop and hover. Can I power on now?”

“No not yet we have to go through all of… Y/N!”

There was no patience left within you as Donnie kept talking so you just took off mid-sentence. He hollered after you. He took chase, his own jetpack roaring to life.

You were going way too fast. Donnie couldn’t tell if you were even under control! Just above the rooftops you flew by. Weaving past units and it became clear that you did know how to fly. His anxiety lessened but he still kept tailing you. Just in case.

At one point you slowed down enough for Donnie to be flying right by your side. Your smile dazzled him as you glanced over. Eyes twinkling in awe as you pointed out the bridge where Donnie and his brothers did the pizza box stacking competition.

“Race you there!”

You shouted and not a second later you were going max speed.

Now you may be a natural but Donnie had been flying far longer than you. The only advantage you did have was a slight head start. The wind picked up as the two of you flew higher. The finish line apparently being the highest point on the bridge.

Donnie won. He knew the best path to take after all from a projected route via his goggles. He watched as you made it to him. Slowing down and then circling him in the air while you laughed out in joy.

“This is amazing!!”

You exclaimed as you landed in front of him. It was high up, the wind whipping past the both of you. But the cold didn’t seem to affect your spirits at all. Your arms were raised in the air, back turned to him, whooping out for all of New York to hear. None of them would, not even the passengers in their zooming cars below. But Donnie could.

His heart did a strange thump beneath his plastron. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt a little breathless.

“Thank you! I- just, thank you for this! I never thought in my lifetime I’d be able to do something so… so..!”

The words were slipping from you as you had faced Donnie to express your gratitude. This was something that only happened in movies. That only happened in dreams! Your hands came up and moved in an expression that tried to convey how big this all felt to you. These emotions!

“We can do it again. However many times you like.”

Donnie replied after a moment.

You didn’t let the shock pass your features. You had wondered if he would let you fly again. So you had tried to get it all out of your system. Not knowing if the first would be your last. You smiled brightly for him.

“My worries seem to have been for nothing. You’re a natural at flying.”

A compliment. You could only smile brighter.

“Well, I don’t know about all that,”

And his mouth opened to argue. Not liking how you were putting yourself down. But before he could you continued.

“I had a great teacher!”

You mused at how his mouth snapped shut. His eyes darting away, a hand coming up to rub the back of his bandana.

“Really. He was the best! He’s too smart!”

He had to turn away as the compliments kept coming. Had the wind stopped? It was suddenly a bit warm up here. You had the nerve to giggle at his shyness before you powered up your jetpack again.

He turned immediately back to you, expecting you to take off again. But this time you hovered. Offering your hand to Donnie. He couldn’t help but take in the view. The night sky your backdrop, few stars even more satellites. But it was as if you were glowing before him.

His own hand reached out, fingers brushing against your palm, before taking a firm grip.

He held your hand.

158 notes · View notes

srjlvr · 8 months

Text

꒦꒷ enhypen ! and your infamous ship with them<3

idol-ot7!enhypen x idol-fem!reader .. fluff .. no warnings<3 not proofread!!

read pt.1 here!! — since you all liked it<3

ε ї з — heeseung

as if his heart eyes for you at the interview weren’t enough, heeseung started talking about you a lot in his lives, which only adds to your fan’s delusions.

he’d go on and talk about his day in his lives when all of a sudden he’d turn on some music and the first song he’d pick would be one of your songs.

“this song is so good, i listen to it almost every day, this artist y/n is really talented i really love her songs” he’d say with a big smile.

and oh, this is definitely not the end, he’d also go on and rant about the first time meeting you and tell them about those times when you bumped into each other, as if he’s telling his best friend about a new crush he has.

“i was walking down the aisle when i accidentally bumped into her, she was in a bit rush so she apologized quickly and ran away, it was so funny i didn’t know what to do” he’d giggle, “after that she saw me again and even got me a snack, that’s cute”

with delusional fans, comes the delusional tweets of fans, and the conspiracies about heeseung having a crush too (which might be true)

“if i wasn’t so sure before, now im more than 100% sure that this boy is having a crush on her, and i’m all in for it!!”

ε ї з — jay

a week after the valentine’s day story blew up, jay went on a live again, just casually talking with his fans that he loves and appreciates so much.

jay was ranting about a cake his mom made him,and explained how cool the design she did looked, to the point where he actually took his phone and scrolled through his gallery to show them a picture.

usually, when idols show their phones on lives or such, they’d turn off their notifications, only this time jay was so into it that he forgot to do it.

at the same time you, being the good old friend you are, responded to a text he sent you a few minutes ago, even before he started the live.

as he was showing his picture on his phone to the fans he also got a notification from you, it was a matter of a few seconds for fans to realize your contact name, and a few seconds for jay to realize he’s doomed.

jay tried to laugh it off but it was too late. now even those who didn’t ship you two and had doubts about it are left speechless.

“i admit i didn��t believe the valentine’s day story and their ship, but now knowing they text each other and probably do every day too? YES!!”

ε ї з — jake

your old meet up with jake was actually filmed for a short vlog, you both work under the same company so it was pretty common to meet up and get it filmed.

a few days after the scandal blew up, a really short vlog of the both of you got released.

fans rushed to watch it and see any clue of jake since it was rumored he was going to be there. the short film got around 100k+ in no time!

fans felt like swooning whenever they watched your interactions, you and jake even spoke in english, considering the fact that you both are foreigners and feel comfortable speaking in english.

jake never looked more shy than when he was literally standing next to you, holding his signed album and just waiting for the right moment to give it to you.

if you’d ask any fan that watched this short vlog, they’d probably tell you they’re 100% sure that something is up with the both of you. the way that he looked at you was something fans never saw before, and the way that you looked at him was as if you finally got to talk with your crush after years of crushing over him.

“i NEVER thought i’d be able to see both of my ults in one frame together!! i bet you a million dollars that they’re dating and fight me if they’re not!! it seemed like they tried to hide it but it looked too overact”

ε ї з — sunghoon

everyone’s favorite ambassadors!! your couple photoshoot got so famous that even people who never heard of the two of you refused to believe you’re not dating.

on your first photoshoot together, you and sunghoon did some funny tiktok challenges that got super famous to the point that people started making edits out of them.

ever since then, each time you’d see each other you’d make a tiktok together, wether it’s a dance challenge or just a very trendy tiktok hence, it wasn’t such a surprised that enhypen’s tiktok account and your tiktok account was filled with tiktoks of the both of you together.

fans brought up new conspiracies of the both of you going on short dates and filming tiktoks together, a whole new chaos was created.

if you thought these tiktoks were enough then think again because not only your tiktok was filled with the both of you, but you also made sure to take many many photos and post it on instagram.

i think out of all ships, yours and sunghoons shippers are being fed so well honestly and they never ever complain about it.

“i never heard about these two until i saw their photoshoots!! you can’t tell me they’re not dating?? and we get too many contents of them two im fully convinced they’re just dropping hints”

ε ї з — sunoo

new years awards came in fast, and all fans were looking forward to collab stages, it was rumored that a lot of 3rd gen and 4th gen are going to perform together, but fans never ever expected you and sunoo to be on one stage together.

him dancing to your performance in one award got so famous that fans even made memes about it, like “me when my favorite song is playing in one store” and more!

the thing is, this stage included only you and him, which made the fans go even more crazy. you and sunoo? on one stage? all alone? fans hoped so bad for that and it happened.

you and sunoo ate the performance, it included a lot of skinship and difficult moves that even fans who tried to cover the collab stage complained about it being really hard.

a stage between a female idol and male idol isn’t something that’s very popular lately (sadly!!!) so it was such a surprise that you and sunoo actually did it.

king and queen of kpop confirmed! your new ship nickname was formed in no time and other fans who watched your stage was mesmerized by how good you two look together.

“IM GOING CRAZY RN!! sunoo and y/n, boyfriend and girlfriend on one stage AND THEY ATE THAT PERFORMANCE!! imagine being on stage with your partner they’re so iconic for that!!”

ε ї з — jungwon

as weeks went by with you and jungwon being MCs, fans got used to see the both of you together every week, it became a routine for them to open their laptop and stream your live, they’ll always find the time to watch the two of you.

when your contract ended, fans were devastated and didn’t want to move on, they even considered to stop watching the show without having the two of you.

even in your last day, you and jungwon looked so sad and unmotivated which made fans even more sad than before. the memories you created will always stay in the show’s history and fans’ hearts.

i guess both of your fans got super lucky because your companies were smart enough to sign the both of you up to a new variety show!!

new content of the both of you together?? in one variety show?? your fans can’t be thankful enough honestly.

fans were going mad watching the both of you being too comfortable around each other, basically doing everything together and staying really close to each other.

“anyone else waiting for them to accidentally expose their relationship on this variety show? come on!! its too obvious they’re dating!!”

ε ї з — riki

ever since that time the both of you met accidentally, the coffee shop became super famous, mostly people who waits to catch the both of you together are going there.

ever since then, fate has its own ways of getting to you, and each time you’re going to buy coffee in local stores, you happen to see him too.

you once uploaded a photo of your coffee to your weverse account and fans noticed a very familiar figure, who just happened to upload a photo of his coffee with you in the background.

and if that wasn’t enough, you were caught by fans together in the same place and this time, even shared a really long conversation. it became a usual thing for the both of you to meet up whenever you’re off to buy coffee, as if you know where to go if you want to meet up.

fans refuse to believe that this is all a coincidence since the evidences are always there, you’ve been seen around each other too many times, even in photos you yourself uploaded.

at one point you just decided to upload a photo together and tease your fans a bit, and it actually worked because the next day you became trending as the coffee couple.

“coffee couple has done it again! do you think their dates must have coffee in it? like what if they go to watch a movie? popcorn and coffee? anyways im fully convinced they’re always planning it and we’re just here to watch”

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @lovelovelovebts (bold means cannot be tagged)

599 notes · View notes

comment-day · 9 days

Text

Some Resources To Help With Commenting

If you have ever gotten a comment full of pull-quotes, you know it is a joy to get as an author. You get to know exactly which parts of a fic stood out to someone! Which lines made them keysmash or delve into character or made it all click! Amazing!

If you've ever tried to write one yourself, you know that scrolling to the bottom of the screen to get to the comment box again and again is an exercise in frustration only matched by repeatedly closing your hand in a door while the fire alarm goes off. So. Here are some resources to help with that!

(Note: The high-tech versions below are for Ao3, but they replicate functionality Wattpad already has built in— you can comment line by line on that site! The low-tech resource linked below should work for any site that allows you to leave comments.)

The High Tech:

There is an amazing use script written by @ravenel which gives you a comment box that floats on your screen, which is detailed below.

It can be intimidating to install a use script, so @bourbon-ontherocks wrote a tutorial about it here:

For people who use Ao3 site skins, here's the code to make an Ao3 site skin and add a bookmarklet that turns having your comment box at the bottom of the screen on and off. Bonus: this will also work on mobile!

Here is an alternate Ao3 comment box that lets you open a box, type your commentary in the moment, and then send it down to the comment box at the bottom of the page, and then close it again! Includes an update by @aidaronan which was designed to work on mac and firefox!

The Low Tech:

Honestly I have been meaning to install one of these cool scripts, but I keep putting off installing them, so I just use my notes app. I open up a new note, and on my computer I put it behind my browser window so I can click to it, and on my phone I just keep it so that I can swipe across apps. So Then I copy-paste the quotes I want, dump them in the notes app, and put my commentary below! Simple, fast, and fantastic for when you are stuck on the bus for an hour.

So what do you comment?

What kind of commentary, you ask? I will be honest, a lot of the time the commentary is me going OH NO or keysmashing after lines. And that's also okay! I have been told so by authors before!

I know I have personally gotten comments where commenters did delicate character analysis after lines and those comments are in my treasured forever box, and I also have comments where someone went OH NO OH NO AOHNFDIOFNDISJFODISJIDJSIOFD YOU DIDN"T AUTHOR NO and I also hold them dear to my heart all the same. The author gets to know the reaction a work got from their reader! And that's fantastic!

The point of the pull quotes comment is showing the impact a work is having on you as you go through the work, section by section, and sometimes that's a digression about how this line made you think about the characters relationship and how he DESERVES THIS HAPPINESS, and sometimes it's responding to a heartbreaking line with twenty weeping emoji. The impact of opening up a comment email and seeing 10 lines of quotes of your own work will hit whether you have thoughtful commentary or you are rolling yourself into a little ball like an octopus and tumbling across the screen (ordinary standard unhinged comment I have left on the works of writers who make me feel Like That).

Go forth! Comment in detail! Let the authors know which lines made you go "oh no" out line in the kitchen as you made soup! Let them know about callbacks that you just realized and now you figured out the whole mystery! Let them know about how this one bit was so cute you had to step away from the computer for a sec! Let them know what you thought!

#Comment Day #Ao3 #Ao3 fanfic #Ao3 comments

145 notes · View notes

drunk-on-dk · 2 years

Text

His Hoodie | Choi Seungcheol (m)

✦pairing: college!Seungcheol x fem!reader

✦genre: smut (minors DNI), some fluff and angst maybe?

✦wc: 4.8k

✦summary: Seungcheol's fashion was something you took note of daily, so why did his glasses drive you absolutely mad?

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦warnings: frat boy Seungcheol; nervous reader; no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy; pet names (baby); seungcheol is a bit degrading; dom!Seungcheol; switch!reader; unprotected sex (big no no, pls be safe with your partners); fingering; oral (female receiving); creampie; choking a bit; oh god please tell me if I missed anything.

✦a/n: this was birthed from the absolute brain rot of Seungcheol's vlive with Jeonghan... im so sorry for this, i will rot in hell for going crazy over a man in glasses ik it... please enjoy (this is not necessarily proofread, i shall get to that tomorrow)

The day Seungcheol walked into the lecture with those wire-framed glasses on, you had to do a double-take of the boy. His usual street style was substituted for a softer look today. A simple graphic tee, worn jeans, and glasses you’ve never seen him wear before framed his features so nicely. You’d never admit it to him, but you closely took note of Seungcheol’s outfits every time you saw him, and seeing him dressed so soft and casual like this was almost a breath of fresh air. This look was a new one that you’d archive with the rest of his outfits that sat in the back of your mind.

Seungcheol and you were friends, close enough at least to comfortably fall into conversation about things further than surface level conversation starters each class. A little bit of flirty banter here and there as well, as he was fun to get worked up.

You hung around Seungcheol’s frat quite often, being closer friends with some of his fellow brothers than you were with him. Of course, since he ran in the same circle, you were inevitably introduced to him, and the frequency that you came by and hung out with them almost warranted you a spot in the frat yourself. So much so that Vernon had to set a curfew on how late you could stay after parties, informing you that you were picking up on their mannerisms too much and that you should really save yourself while you can. That didn’t last long of course, typically spending the night on Vernon’s futon, Wonwoo’s couch, or in Mingyu’s bed (he’d only carried you there for comfort and he’d sleep on the floor, of course).

Otherwise, you’ve expressed interest in Seungcheol’s clothing before, typically finding yourself wandering into his room late at night when the temperatures would drop after day drinking to snatch an overpriced sweatshirt from his collection. At first, he’d whine and pout, cherry red lips mumbling out that you shouldn’t steal his clothes without his permission. Now, he doesn’t even falter when he sees you wearing his stuff, only occasionally mumbling that you better not spill your drink on yourself or his sweatshirt, steadying you whenever he’d see you stumble.

Seungcheol always looked cool, darker colors and baggy clothes making up half his wardrobe, and you admired that about him. Even when his hair would be a mess from rolling out of bed, an expensive beanie would smooth down his ratty mane. But this, this look was new to you, not that his designer t-shirt strayed from his usual styles, nor did his trendy baggy jeans, but the glasses that sat so nicely on his nose made your cheeks warm after staring for too long. Admittedly, you always thought Seungcheol was cute, but these made him impossibly cuter. Honestly, your fascination with Seungcheol’s style was more so a front for your true feelings for him.

Seungcheol sat down next to you with a huff, pulling his books out of his bag and only peering up at you upon noticing you were watching him closely. Accusatorily, he asks with a jerk of his chin, “what are you looking at? What’s up with you today?”

Snapping back into reality and diverting your attention away from him, you began shuffling with your notebook. Upon flipping to the most recent page of notes, you avoid his question and ask, “since when have you started wearing glasses?”

“These?” Seungcheol asks, readjusting the frames and you peak over to see him struggling to find a comfortable spot for them. “Soonyoung knocked my monthly contacts into the toilet the other night, and my next prescription is delayed.”

“Ah,” you hum, nodding slowly as you look over at him once more, eyes meeting his fleetingly and quickly turning your attention away.

Unbeknownst to you, this made Seungcheol feel extremely insecure, tugging on your arm slightly and calling out, “hey, what’s with that reaction? Do I look stupid in these? Please tell me if I do, Y/N. See, this is why I don’t wear-”

You’re quick to cut him off upon realizing you sent him into a spiral, wide eyes staring into his again as you hurriedly explain yourself, “no, they look good on you, seriously. I’ve just never seen you wear those before.”

He’s back to being smug again, arms crossing over his chest and leaning back into his chair, dimples shadowing his cheeks upon a small smile appearing on his lips. “So, you’re telling me you like them on me?”

This time you pull on his arm and roll your eyes, “shut up, Seungcheol, I won’t hesitate to rip those glasses right off your face and toss them right in the trash.” You refocus your attention on your professor who just entered the room, ignoring the slight chuckle from Seungcheol, and trying to hide the blush that hasn’t left your cheeks since you first saw him.

Oddly enough, you felt irrationally tense the whole class, your nerves never settling even when Seungcheol pointed out your leg was bouncing at an alarming pace. You felt your ears heat up when his knee bumped yours, a quiet whisper asking if you were okay and soft eyes peeking over your shoulder.

No, you were not okay, you thought to yourself, knowing something was terribly wrong with your brain and hormones when your heart raced from the way Seungcheol peered over his glasses at you.

Part of you was panicking at the suppressed feelings bubbling up inside of you, hating how this side of Seungcheol struck a chord inside of you, his mini act of insecurity earlier making you wish you could just lean over and let him know that he’d look good in anything he’d wear.

By the time class was dismissed, Seungcheol had to wave a hand in front of your vision, chuckling as he informed you that class was over. “Earth to, Y/N? Wanna walk back to the house with me? I’m assuming you’re getting dinner with Vernon before the party tonight?”

You’re stuttering out a lie before you can even think straight, shaking your head profusely, “actually, Vernon and I aren’t getting dinner tonight, so you can just head back without me.”

You see Seungcheol slightly pout, a slightly confused and concerned expression gracing his features. “But you always get dinner with Vernon on Fridays.”

“Yeah, well,” God damn it he’s so cute, you can’t even think straight when he has that pout on his face. You’re ready to tear the glasses off his face as well. “I had to rain check today, promised I’d meet a friend at the cafeteria instead.”

“What friend? I could walk with you to the cafeteria and then head back.”

You’re frustrated by how inquisitive Seungcheol is, annoyed that you were even lying to him in the first place, but he was just making you so damn nervous that you wouldn’t dare to walk the distance to the frat house with him. You’re quick to start packing your stuff up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and holding a hand out to stop him from following you, “don’t be so nosy, I’ll see you later tonight at the party.”

You briskly stalk out of the classroom, being sure to head in the direction of the cafeteria before coming to a halting stop in a safe corner. Hastily, you text Vernon to cancel your dinner plans for the night, letting him know you’ll explain the last-minute cancellation later. It amazed you that Seungcheol knew your schedule so well. Usually, he had plans of his own after class, typically never walking back with you to the frat house, and you never mentioned your dinner tradition with Vernon to him before.

That night at the party you avoided Seungcheol at all costs. Vernon knew something weird was up with you when he found you gnawing on your straw in the corner of the room. His eyes followed your gaze that was narrowed in on Seungcheol chatting with a girl on the opposite side of the room, his fingers timidly readjusting his glasses as he laughed at something the girl said. He could see the way you held your red solo cup a little firmer, the plastic crinkling in your grasp. Vernon was smart enough to understand what was going on with you, but he refrained from saying anything. He always had an inkling that you liked Seungcheol, and he wanted you to organically come to that conclusion yourself. It wasn’t like Vernon to interject anyways.

However, Vernon could also see what you couldn’t. He’d notice the way Seungcheol’s eyes would roam the room in search of you, noting the disappointment when you’d disappear from his sight. All Vernon could do is sip on his drink and shake his head at the way you both seemed oblivious.

This went on for a week or so more, even going to the extent to avoid him in his own house. You were honestly freaked out by the sudden onslaught of feelings you had for him. You hated the way your heart pounded each time you saw him. The glasses no longer being the root cause for your racing heart, but the way his chuckle sounded from down the hall, his gummy smile when he’d spot you across the room, and even the way he’d scold you in class for ignoring him made your stomach flutter.

Seungcheol finally cornered you one night, grabbing ahold of your wrist as you tried to quietly pad down the halls of the frat house. You were crashing on Vernon’s futon again, only venturing out in hopes to hunt down a bottle of fresh water or a miraculously filled Brita somewhere in the kitchen. You almost screamed in terror until you realized it was just Seungcheol, his hand still covering your mouth as an extra measure when he yanked you into his room.

Seungcheol sat you on his bed much to your dismay, closing his bedroom door behind him as he stared down at you, arms crossed and eyes squinting through his wireframed glasses. He continued to survey you, tongue poking at his cheek as he leaned over to catch your attention when you focused your sight down at your fingers that nervously picked at a hangnail.

“Seriously, Y/N, what has been up with you,” he finally whines, clearly exasperated by your recent behavior, “you won’t even give me the time of day lately. You haven’t stolen one of my damn sweatshirts in a month. Did I do something wrong?”

Your mouth opens slightly, hands falling to your sides as you were unsure of how to explain yourself. You knew it was unfair how you were treating your friend, but you’d only recently come to terms with your feelings for him. How could you admit to him that those stupid glasses of his made something in you click? How could you tell him it was wrong to steal his sweatshirt when you found comfort in his scent and the fact that it was his?

You must have been taking too long, Seungcheol noticing the slight way you shivered, finally taking in your appearance. You were in one of Vernon’s shirts, the oversized tee almost swallowing you whole, your tiny little night shorts peeking out slightly from under the hem of the shirt. With a huff, Seungcheol pulled the sweatshirt off his own body and tossed it into your lap. This was not only because you looked cold, but also for his own sanity. Before you could protest, Seungcheol was quick to cut you off, “just take the damn sweatshirt. You look freezing, and I can’t have you walking around in those tiny little shorts.”

This is what grabbed your attention, hands gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt as you finally peered up at him. You narrowed your eyes at him this time, noticing how his cheeks were slightly blushed, unsure if it was from his frustration with your behavior, or if you could possibly have the same effect on him as he did with you.

However, returning to some sense of normalcy, you bit back at him, “you can’t tell me what to wear, Seungcheol. I’ll walk downstairs in these tiny little shorts just because you said I can’t.”

This seemed to fire him up back up, stepping closer towards you and tilting his chin up. You found yourself standing up, discarding his sweatshirt on the bed as you tried to assert some dominance yourself. He almost made you falter at the way he peered at you from under his glasses, but this time it only made you more frustrated.

You finally broke, the way Seungcheol stared at you as he breathed deeply through his nostrils made you act irrationally, ripping his glasses right off his face and placing them on his nightstand. “If I can’t wear my shorts, then you can’t wear these damn glasses.”

He laughed incredulously at this, “are you serious, Y/N? I can’t see without those, that’s not even fair.”

“Good,” you spit out, pivoting on your heel to head straight for his door, “then you won’t be able to see me walk out.”

Seungcheol did not like this one-bit, sturdy arm wrapping around your waist as he seethed, infuriated by how stubborn you were being and just wanted to get a normal conversation out of you. Keeping you in his grasp, he leaned over to grab his glasses from the nightstand, forcibly turning you around to face him.

You didn’t fight him at this point, feeling exhausted and crumbling at the way Seungcheol’s arm felt like a ring of fire around your waist. His large hand that was splayed across your lower back had goosebumps arising on your sensitive skin. Your lower stomach fluttered at the way his thumb slightly rubbed over the curve of your spine, heat spreading throughout your body as you attempted to say something.

Seungcheol doesn’t necessarily soften, but he doesn’t seem so annoyed anymore. He studies you again, a lightbulb going off in his head before he speaks, “by any chance, do these glasses affect you potentially the same way those little shorts affect me?”

You feel impossibly hot after his question, hoping that the dim lighting of his room prevents him from noticing how your cheeks warm even more. You let him pull you in closer, your torso pressing into his as he attempts to test the waters of your relationship. The hand that isn’t wrapped around you makes it up to your jaw, calloused fingers wrapping around your delicate neck as he stares into you.

“If your pulse says anything, I’d believe you were attracted to me,” his voice is lower now, mockingly whispering closer to your lips as you struggle to utter out a word, your lungs working overtime from the way his touch was affecting you.

His grip on your neck tightens slightly, your chin angling up towards him so that he can stare directly into your eyes. His lips were painfully close to yours, making your lips tingle in anticipation.

“Fuck,” you finally choke out, your lips brushing Seungcheol’s slightly before he uses his grasp on your jaw to keep you at a safe distance. “I need you to kiss me, Seungcheol.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask, baby,” Seungcheol is smug, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours. It’s messy and hard, both of you immediately fighting for dominance as you lock lips. The hand that gripped your jaw has now traveled to the back of your neck, using this to his advantage as he controls the pace. His other hand on your back trails to your ass, massaging the plump mound as the kiss quickly heats up, your own hands roaming his firm chest.

You buck your hips into Seungcheol’s at his touch, earning a groan from him as he nibbles at your lip, tongue slipping past your lips as you let out a moan yourself. Seungcheol finds himself pulling you with him as he backs up towards his bed, never breaking his lips from yours as he sits down on the plush surface, pulling you atop his lap to straddle him.

Seungcheol wouldn’t dare to let you go now, only pulling away when he begins to feel overwhelmed by the way your hips roll against his, needing to regain some dominance as you grind against his growing erection.

This proved to be a mistake though, your lips immediately reattaching to his neck as he grips your hips in hopes to slow down the way you rock against him. He can feel your breasts through the thin fabric of the tee, the feeling of your firm nipples making him dizzy as he attempts to come to his senses.

“Fuck, you’re so needy, baby,” he growls out, flipping you over onto the bed with ease. You gasp at his strength, hips keening up towards him as he pushes a hand against you lower abdomen to keep your hips from chasing his, another hand finding purchase around your throat again.

His hand that was once on your abdomen has now traced its way to the wet spot on your night shorts. His fingers press at your heat, the pressure on your clit making you gasp out, neck straining in Seungcheol’s gasp as you arch into his touch. He coos mockingly at you, “does that feel good, baby? I love the way your pulse quickens under my touch too, and how fucking hot and wet you are already.”

You feel breathless at the way his fingers rub firmly over the fabric that covers your cunt, hands gripping at the arm of the hand that is wrapped around your neck. You could breathe perfectly fine, but you needed to hold onto something, preferably him.

“Seungcheol,” you breathe out between baited breaths, “n-need your fingers, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he hums, pulling your shorts off in one go, and exposing your bare pussy to the cool air of his room. You can tell he notices the way your heart rate picks up, his thumb pressed firmly against your pulse as he breathes deeply at the way your legs spread for him. “Such a dirty baby, wearing just these shorts without any underwear beneath them… one would think you’re trying to get with Vernon if I didn’t have you right here in my grip.”

“Pl-please, touch me,” you’d be wailing if it wasn’t for the firm grip he had on your neck, finally releasing you to hold his weight over you as he experimentally rolled thumb over your swollen clit, the way you grinded against his bulge almost driving you over the edge earlier.

You jerk from just the slightest touch, his lips connecting with your neck as he continues to circle his thumb over your clit. A single finger of his slips in between your folds as he collects some of your essence before slipping another finger in. You’re moaning from the way his fingers curl into you, hands tangling into his hair as he suckles at your neck, whispering dirty things into your skin as he picks up his pace fingering into you.

You almost lose it when he looks up at you, lips swollen from being pressed so firmly against your neck, glasses slightly fogged from his hot breath, and burying his face into your neck. Your hips are bucking into his palm as he continues to curl and scissor his fingers inside of your walls, you’re thrashing in his grip as you need more from him, the pleasure continuing to build up in your abdomen. “More, Seungcheol, fuck, I need more.”

“My needy little baby,” he’s chuckling darkly into your neck, contrasting the sweet innocent look of his glasses, the Seungcheol you know resurfacing as he trails his lips down your body. He expertly continues to finger you as his lips pause at your nipples, the hard peaks poking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, and Seungcheol wraps his lips around them, moistening the fabric and running his hot tongue over the nub. He continues to work down your body, teeth nipping at your shirt as he pushes a hand underneath it, raising the fabric over your waist as a hand palms at your breast.

He continues to massage at the peaks, fingers tweaking your nipples as his mouth finally makes it down to your cunt, his tongue darting out to press against your clit. You’re pathetic in his hold, your hands only working to push his face deeper into your heat as he licks at your pussy, fingers still mercilessly working you towards your release.

What drives you over the edge is the way he looks up at you from under his glasses, your vision becoming hazy as your orgasm washes over you. He mutters how much of a dirty, needy baby you are directly into your cunt, your juices covering his chin and glasses foggy as his tongue coaxes you through your release.

You flinch at the way he quickly pulls his fingers from in between your walls, shocked by the way he easily manhandles you when pulling you up to a sitting position. He’s tearing his glasses off at this point, tossing them to the opposite end of the bed as he’s pulling your shirt off your body. He needs to be as close to you as he can possibly be, no longer allowing the pesky frames to keep him from pressing his face in between your breasts as he nibbles on the sensitive skin.

“You’re so hot,” he’s growling into you, your shaky hands pulling down his sweats as he continues to suckle at your chest, sure to leave bruises on your skin for only him to know tomorrow.

“So are you,” you’re gasping out, hand brushing over his cock, shocked by the shear girth and length as you release him from the confines of his sweats. “Fuck, Seungcheol, you’re huge.”

“Perfect for you then,” he says smugly, pulling away from your chest to pull his shirt off, and you’re falling back onto the bed, hand tracing over the tip of his length to spread precum down the shaft. “Perfect for my needy little baby. Perfect for this needy little pussy.”

He crawls over you, pulling your hands away to run his tip over your soaked folds, tip teasing at your entrance as he gathers your arousal on his length. You’re chasing his hips, trying to encourage him to slip between your walls and fuck you already.

“So needy for you, Cheol,” you’re moaning out when he finally pushes the tip in, hips bucking in an attempt to take him in.

“Still so tight,” he’s groaning, bucking shallowly into you as you hiss from the stretch. One of his hands has found its way around your throat again, loving the way your pulse falters at each shallow thrust, slowly being sucked in by your walls deeper and deeper each time.

Seungcheol loses himself in the way you gasp, hips bottoming out against yours as your warm walls fully take him in. It’s almost painful how pleasurable you feel wrapped around him, the way you grip his length so tightly, teeth seething into your neck as he tries to pull out only to be pulled back in by your throbbing walls.

He’s thankful for how breathless you are, glad you aren’t making too much noise this late at night in the house, hoping that no one else hears the pretty noises you’re making as you adjust to his size.

Seungcheol experimentally grinds into you, hips rolling into yours as you let out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard, “fuck, baby, let me hear that again.”

You’re moaning out even more, his lips reattaching to yours to capture each moan as he begins to thrust in and out of you. His hand is no longer wrapped around your neck, but he swears he can feel your pulse from how tightly your pussy is wrapped around him.

He needs to be deeper in you, needs to feel every inch of you as he grabs one of your legs and pulls it over his shoulder, pounding even deeper into you. He’s swallowing all of your moans, burning the pretty noise into his memory as he loses himself in between your walls.

You’re so flexible, so pliable for him as he continues to thrust in and out of you. He doesn’t need his glasses when you’re this close to him, pulling away from your lips to watch how your mouth parts in pleasure, hair displayed around you like a halo as he fucks you mercilessly.

Seungcheol can feel how your walls flutter around his length, your pussy clenching as he continues to hit you right where he almost has you screaming, but instead you’re biting his shoulder for relief, blubbering nonsense as you cry into him. “Such a good, baby, staying quiet just for me to hear.”

“Seungcheol, can I please cum?” You’re crying out into his shoulder, legs shaking over his shoulders as he repeatedly hits your g-spot.

“Fuck,” he’s choking out, deep voice slightly faltering as you so nicely ask for his permission. He’d won this round, proving to have staked his dominance over you. “Go ahead and cum for me. My needy baby deserves it.”

Your back is arching, the coil inside of you snapping as he grants you permission with one extra hard thrust, arms reaching over your head as you grip the sheets tightly. You’re only egged on upon looking up at him, waves of pleasure shocking you watching as his jaw clenches when he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the pleasure burning through you and making you moan out in pure ecstasy.

The sight of you finishing is enough to make him fall over, burying his face into your neck as his hips begin to stutter into yours. Hot, thick ropes of cum fill you up as he releases from the feeling of your spasming walls. He slowly thrusts into you some more, overstimulating both of you as your pulse slows down, only then pulling his softening length out of you to watch his cum drip from between your folds.

He reaches to pull his glasses back on, watching as the white liquid drips from your hole, and pouting at the sight. You’re still gasping for air, hips rising at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you.

“Shit, baby,” he’s quickly scrambling off the bed, going to grab a clean cloth. “Let me clean you up.”

“Thank you,” you’re whispering appreciatively, letting Seungcheol take care of you as you no longer have an ounce of energy. He finds you absolutely endearing when you ask for what you initially ventured out for, “can I have some water please?”

He chuckles, dimples appearing as he nods, grabbing the flask of cold water from his nightstand and handing it to you. He watches as you gulp it down, looking impossibly cute after the events that just took place, pulling on his sweats to join you back on the bed after you hand him the half-empty water bottle.

Seungcheol can’t help but feel giddy at the way you finally pull on his sweatshirt. The butterflies that erupt in his stomach are not easy to be ignored when you look so beautiful in his clothing.

“Absolutely perfect,” he mumbles out, hands smoothing out your matted hair as you move closer to him. He much prefers his sweatshirt on you than Vernon’s t-shirt. He basks in the way your cheeks glow bright red in the dim lighting of his room, shivering from the way your tiny fingers readjust the glasses on his face.

“Seungcheol,” you mutter hesitantly, and he hums, staring at your endearingly and coaxing you to continue. “These damn glasses are what made me lose my mind over you.”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at you, all the puzzle pieces lining up on how weird you’ve been acting since that one lecture. He nuzzles his nose into yours, “well, let’s thank Soonyoung for flushing my contacts down that toilet then, or maybe it would have taken years to get you to fall for me.”

You snort at that, snuggling into his arms as he pulls you under the covers. “That’s not true, I was already head over heels for you. Just didn’t know it yet.”

Seungcheol hums in delight, letting you remove the glasses from his face to pull him into yet another deep kiss. Seungcheol thinks he can fall asleep like this every night with you in his arms, loving the way you mold to his body and how soft you feel in his hoodie. Seungcheol also loves when you walk into class with his hoodie from the night before, no longer stealing his hoodies, but rather receiving them directly from the owner.

#svthub #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #choi seungcheol smut #scoups brain rot is real

3K notes · View notes