#edited with a link to my ao3 account ! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintrosalyn · 1 month ago

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JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained.

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor.

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left.

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge.

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off.

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator.

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room.

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you?

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him.

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life.

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon.

Freedom.

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing.

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours.

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat.

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient.

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet.

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow.

“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.”

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you.

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either.

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs.

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone.

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it.

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard.

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours.

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon x reader #ghost x you #ghost #simon ghost riley #reader is delulu in this

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littlebittyhollowbugs · 5 months ago

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so.. my plan was to have this posted by last Saturday. but a lot of life stuff has gotten in the way, and it hasn't been great. which is why I haven't been active for the past week.

I still haven't done any artwork for this, which I was planning on doing but probably won't anymore.

I want to get it posted soon.

So I'm compiling all our mantis tribe/mantis lord hcs and backstory rn. Will be posted before the week's over 👍

#life has not been kind lately #I have been severely depressed because of an event that happened recently but I'm doing a lot better now #I'll be posting more regularly #I did finally set up my AO3 account #I still want to edit my dragon and unicorn fic before I post it there #but I did post my other fic #which I'm almost finished with #and I'll link it here #just a min

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melannen · 2 years ago

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How To Make Your Own Fanfiction Archive, In Just Ten Easy Steps

As the go-to "person who knows about AO3" for quite a few people who read fanfic but aren't really linked-in to wider fandom culture, I've fielded a lot of questions about how to do certain things on AO3 to which my best answer is "you should really start your own archive!" I think, in general, more fans starting their own small archives would be a net good for fandom. AO3 was never meant to be the only archive for all fandom, or even the main archive, and the more spread out and backed up we are the more resilient we are.

But of course I have to be reminded that a lot of fans these days don't really have any idea how little "you should start your own archive!" really involves. (Also, that I should practice what I preach.) So I am now making my own fanfiction archive, and writing up this post as I do it to tell people how to make theirs!

Go to https://neocities.org/ and sign up for an account. It only needs a username (which will also be your website address), password, and email. Pick a username that will be related to your archive's title!

Choose the free account option (if you ever need more than what the free account offers for a text-only archive, you should probably look into graduating from neocities.) This should take you to a menu of "how to make a website" tutorials. You should do them! They're useful skills. But let's get your archive running first.

Hit the big red Edit Site button, or open the menu under your username and select "Edit Site".

Select the "Index.html" file to edit. You're now in an HTML Editor. Congrats, you're a web developer c. 1999!

Find where it has text between the < title> tags. Delete the filler text, and put in the title of your new archive. This text will be what shows on the tab when people go to your archive.

Find where it has text between the < h1 > tags. This will be big header text at the top of your page. Put the title of your archive here again. If you have no experience with HTML, you should read over the other sample text. It covers the basic basics very well! Once you've done that, you can delete everything else between the < /h1> tag and the < /body> tag. Save your index.html file.

Get an HTML file for a fanfic you would like to add to your archive. If it's on AO3, you can use the html download option built into AO3. If you have it as a word processor/google docs file, you should have the option to save as an html file. Save that html file to your computer.

Go back to Edit Site on Neocities and go to "upload". Find the html file you saved and upload it. (You can also drag and drop files to upload.)

The file you uploaded should now be showing with your other neocities files. Right-click on the title and select "copy link".

Go in to edit index.html again. Under where you put your header text, type < br> < a href=" . Then paste in the link you copied. Then type "> Then put in the title of the fic. Then type < /a> . Then save the index page again when you're done. You can do this for every fanfic you have.

Congratulations! You now have your very own personal private fanfiction archive that you are 100% in charge of and make all the rules for. It's at least as good as half the ones I was reading on when I started reading fanfiction and will serve its function well as a way to let people read your fic. You can link to it from anywhere you want! (Including your AO3 profile.)

Blogpost version, with FAQs and discussion

Anyway, here's my beautiful new fanfiction archive made using this tutorial:

Melannen's Fanfiction Archive

(I am honestly way more disproportionately proud of finally making that than I expected to be. It's nice to have your own archive.)

If you make one, share it here ! I want to see!

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfic archive #how-to #tumblr what are you doing to my angle brackets #why would you do that what's wrong with you

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Let Me Love You, Baby

Chapter 7 of That's What You Get Prev Chap // Next Chap

Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.

A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao. You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3

You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh.

“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!”

“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier.

“Your lips are swollen.”

“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him.

“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you.

“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout.

“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer.

“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone.

“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible.

“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air.

When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him.

“Definitely not too drunk.”

You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers.

“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough.

“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth.

It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him.

He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls.

“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air.

“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down.

Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck.

“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth.

In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core.

“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question.

“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?”

“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again.

“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure.

He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face.

“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child.

“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.” You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it.

He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed.

"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck.

"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off.

He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored.

"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again.

"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs.

He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest.

"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you.

"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you.

"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"

"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-"

"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words.

"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you.

"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again.

"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement.

A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you.

"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure.

He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again.

His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise.

"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up.

"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up."

Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick.

"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."

You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies.

Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up.

Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time.

"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time.

The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.

You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted.

Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed.

"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out.

Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again.

He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo.

"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give.

Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine.

The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again.

"I love you. It's always been you."

Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained.

–X–

It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face.

Not your finest moment.

Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options.

It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you."

It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation.

But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again.

When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message.

"Sorry. I won't do that again."

You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up.

Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps.

Step one: wallow in your own misery.

Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry.

Step three: beg for heavenly guidance.

After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope.

"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"

You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory.

Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself.

"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?"

--X--

🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira

@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #maturereiding

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ihavenoideawhatiamdoinganymore · 1 month ago

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Some (bad) art I made for my series on Ao3: Hail, the Conquering Hero, under the name Akulreas. This account is actually a side blog (not even it’s own blog, just a side one) because my main account is followed by my sister and I’m sorry, but I am not letting her see the art I made for a Percy Jackson/Epic the Musical fanfic that I wrote. Here’s the link, by the way, since this makes little to no sense without the context of the AU:

Basic summary: ghost Odysseus and Perseus end up haunting Percy and become his New Dads™️ (Poseidon fucking DESPISES them)

Do I know how anatomy works? No. Am I going to learn it all? Maybe. Am I going to learn it all for some silly little sketches I made for my fic? Of course not. People who actually know how to draw anatomy (or just draw in general), I sincerely apologize.

This one was because of a Tumblr post I saw at 11:00 PM and I thought ‘oh, this fits them perfectly’ and then spent thirty minutes drawing this before immediately going to sleep. First time I ever drew Percy. Never again. (The first guy’s Perseus, by the way. Second guy is Odysseus.)

This happened because I was talking with someone who was commenting on Like A Victorious Hero and they mentioned a scenario where Zeus attempts to hug Perseus and Perseus immediately starts cursing him out and telling him to go away. It tormented me for about a week before I gave in and drew it since I didn’t feel like writing it out. I chose Neal Illustrator’s Zeus design for it and if you look at Perseus for like, two seconds, you’ll see some minor similarities (mostly the hair).

Maybe I’ll add some more another day. Not now, though, because it’s late and I’m tired. Please don’t kill me, I know I’m not Good At Art.

Edit: this is my hundredth post on this side blog. Oh my gods, I don’t remember reblogging that many things??

#epic the musical #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #odysseus #perseus #epic the musical au #percy jackson au #Hail the Conquering Hero #Akulreas #how #how tag #how do tag #how x2 #epic zeus #zeus pjo

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dannychai1617 · 1 year ago

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ao3 skin that i made!! (copy code under "keep reading")

it's a messy combination of pieces of code from other people's skins and my own changes

the header image is NOT MINE! it is "Pattern Galaxy Space Planets Vibrant Linear Universe" by Arncil on Redbubble, which i just used as an example for an image you could use!

here are some of the skins that i can remember using as part of this, but i've been building it for years so forgive me if i forget some:

Shortening long tag fields by Xparrot (on ao3)

Slim Shaded by AO3 (on ao3)

Lily Garden by tealtiam (on Tumblr)

AO3 Tag category coloring! by ao3css (on Tumblr)

come back here to my tips or leave a comment if you need some help customizing the code!

Background color: #26303C

Text color: #CBC6C3

Header color: #46626D

Accent color: #993F33

steps to create a new skin using this code:

log into ao3 account

go to dashboard >> skins

click "create site skin"

make sure TYPE is "site skin"

add a unique title

copy all code below

paste into field 'CSS'

click on "use wizard" at the top

copy and paste the four colors written above into their corresponding boxes

click SUBMIT

click USE

how to customize this skin:

FONT SIZE: at the very top of the code, change the "90%" to be bigger or smaller to change the font size within a fic

MAIN COLORS: to change the main colors, select "use wizard" when editing the skin and replace any of the four hex codes under "Background color:", "Text color:", "Header color:", and "Accent color:"

SECONDARY COLORS: find all hex codes within the code and change those numbers as you like! i changed all colors to match with the color palette of the header photo that i chose to make it feel cohesive

TAG COLORS: towards the end, the "relationship", "character", and "freeform" tags alternate three colors to make them easy to separate. in this skin they are all very similar, so you can change those to be whatever colors you like!

HEADER PHOTO: find the link towards the end of the code right before the warning tags and replace it with a link to any photo you like! it loops, so you don't have to worry about sizing or anything

FONT: i'm unsure how exactly to do this, but the in-fic font is currently set to Georgia Serif, so i suppose just go find that and replace it with your preferred font!

BORDER STYLES: wherever you see the code "border-style:", replace the word that comes after it with one of these options: none, solid, dashed, dotted, double, groove, ridge, inset, outset, or hidden

WARNING TAGS: at the very end of the code is a list of words or phrases that, when they appear in the tags of a fic, are highlighted in a contrasting color so that they are easy to avoid if necessary. you can add or remove those tags however you like, or change the warning color!

COPY AND PASTE ALL CODE BELOW

#workskin { font-size: 90%; } li.blurb .tags { max-height: 7.5em; overflow-y: auto; } #header { min-height: 0; } #header a, #header fieldset, #header ul.primary, #header ul.primary .current { border: 0; background: 0; } h1 a img { height: 50px; border: 0; } #header .landmark { clear: none; } #header ul.primary { background: rgba(0,0,0,0.65); border-bottom: 1px solid rgba(0,0,0,0.75); } #header ul.primary, #header ul.primary .current, ul.primary.actions a, #header ul.primary .current { color: #CBC6C3; } #header ul.primary .current, #header #search input, #header #search input:focus { background: rgba(0,0,0,0.25); color: #CBC6C3; box-shadow: inset 0 0 3px #131A2A; border-color: #131A2A; } .actions, .actions input { text-transform: lowercase; } blockquote.userstuff { font-family: "Mido", "AUdimat", "Ostrich Sans Rounded","Lucida Grande", sans-serif !important; position: relative; background: rgba(0,0,0,0.1); padding: 2%; border: 1px solid rgba(0,0,0,0.15); box-shadow: 0 0 2px rgba(0,0,0,0.4); } blockquote.userstuff:after { content: "\201D"; right: 0; top: auto; left: auto; } body, .userstuff { font-family: Mido, Georgia, serif; } .heading, .userstuff h3, .userstuff h4 { font-family: "CabinSketch", Georgia,serif; } #main .heading { color: #CBC6C3; } #inner .group, #inner .heading, fieldset, .verbose legend, table, table th, col.name, span.unread, span.replied { outline: none; background: transparent; border-color: #131A2A; border-style: double; box-shadow: none; border-radius: 2em; border-bottom-right-radius: 0; border-top-left-radius: 0; } #inner .group .group .group, col.name { border-style: double; border-color: #CBC6C3; box-shadow: 0 0 2px #000; } #inner .bookmark .user.module, #inner .wrapper { border: 0; border-radius: 0; border-top: 3px double #bbb; box-shadow: none; } .filters { font-size: 90%; } .toggled form, .dynamic form, .secondary, .dropdown { background: #fff url("/images/skins/textures/tiles/white-handmade-paper.jpg"); } a.tag, a.tag:visited, a.tag:link { display: inline-block; padding: 1px 3px; margin: 2px 0px; border: 2px solid #46626D; border-radius: 5px; } .commas li:after { content: ""; } h5.fandoms.heading { color: transparent; } .favorite a.tag { border: none; } .tags li.relationships:nth-of-type(3n+1) a.tag { background-color: #1d3954; } .tags li.relationships:nth-of-type(3n+2) a.tag { background-color: #264663; } .tags li.relationships:nth-of-type(3n+3) a.tag { background-color: #305475; } .tags li.characters:nth-of-type(3n+1) a.tag { background-color: #214154; } .tags li.characters:nth-of-type(3n+2) a.tag { background-color: #294c61; } .tags li.characters:nth-of-type(3n+3) a.tag { background-color: #31576e; } .tags li.freeforms:nth-of-type(3n+1) a.tag { background-color: #234e54; } .tags li.freeforms:nth-of-type(3n+2) a.tag { background-color: #2a585e; } .tags li.freeforms:nth-of-type(3n+3) a.tag { background-color: #316269; } .tags li.freeforms a.tag:hover, .tags li.characters a.tag:hover, .tags li.relationships a.tag:hover { background-color: #26303C; color: white; } #header .logo { display: none; } #header ul.primary { box-shadow: none; padding-top: 30px; padding-bottom: 30px; background: #FCC191 url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8c/bc/ae/8cbcae1760dc88ae8730566337a5d2eb.jpg); background-attachment: fixed; } li.blurb a.tag[href*="suicid"], [href*="suicide"], [href*="Suicide"], [href*="rape"], [href*="Rape"], [href*="consentual"], [href*="Consentual"], [href*="non-con"], [href*="consent issues"], [href*="Kidnapping"], [href*="kidnapping"], [href*="Canibalism"], [href*="cannibalism"], [href*="Cannibalism"], [href*="Dove"], [href*="dead dove do not eat"], [href*="murder"], [href*="Murder"], [href*="harm"], [href*="self harm"], [href*="Harm"], [href*="Torture"], [href*="abduction"], [href*="asphyxiation"], [href*="blood"], [href*="Blood"], [href*="death"], [href*="Death"], [href*="gore"], [href*="Gore"], [href*="incest"], [href*="Incest"], [href*="trauma"], [href*="Trauma"], [href*="torture"] { color: #000000; font-weight: bold; background-color: #993F33; }

#ao3 #ao3 stuff #archive of our own #ao3 skins #links #ao3 site skin #css

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fawcetttweets · 5 months ago

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All Fawcett Tweets Masterlist (oldest to newest)

ASKS ARE TEMPORARILY CLOSED

Storylines will have an acronym next to it to identify them! The current storylines are: Pig Migration (PM).

Tweets use normal links, but private messages are blue with italics!

(The master list may be a few posts behind sometimes.)

The Cheese

Todays Foresight

The Walk of the Trees

#SassyCap

Pig Migration (PM1)

AITA?

Early Fish Gets The Caterpillar

ACAP (PM2)

Bake Sale

Secret Tweets (PM3)

Close Call

Protection (PM4)

#DoTheSmilesMatch

Pg 13

Automatic Response (PM5)

The B in ACAB (PM6)

Spare Change?

Cyberbullying

A Concerned Friend

Self Promotion

Loser (PM7)

Boop!

NOT a Judgment Free Zone

Lightning Wilhelm

Press ‘more’ for more information on the blog such as asks, blog tags and organization, my main account, and disclaimers!

Asks:

(Edit: ASKS ARE TEMPORARILY CLOSED!)

Suggest anything! May take me quite a while to answer since I don't post every day and have lots of asks, but I love getting them! These tweets take a lot of time and effort so please be patient :)

Tags:

Any tweet posts are tagged with #FawcettTweets

Any non-tweet posts are tagged as #Rambles if your interested in that! Some have additional information about the story and some are just me rambling!

The occasional reblog will be not be sorted with tags.

My fan art and fan fiction:

If you’re interested in more Captain Marvel and DC fan fiction/fan art made by me, check out my main Tumblr, TikTok, and Ao3 accounts! All of them use the username @chaoticallyfluffy !

My Tumblr is mostly fanart and posts about Billy, though you should use the tags in my pinned post to find it since I reblog a lot of unrelated stuff. Anything I created that has to do with this fandom will be tagged #shazam or #dc

My TikTok is mostly animatics about Billy and occasionally other characters.

My ArchiveOfOurOwn account is where all my fanfiction lives! At the time of writing this I have posted three finished and one unfinished fic that I am currently rewriting.

Disclaimer:

I do not support Twitter/X and I highly recommend you don’t either. I am using an app to create fake tweets rather than using the actual app. If you are wondering why, please do your own research because If I try to talk about I’ll rant for ages. Basically, corporate greed, billionaires, AI, and a bunch of other crap.

You can trust that I will NEVER use AI or support anything/anyone that uses it. It is stealing from artists, writers, and everyone else and it is destroying the planet.

Disclaimer 2, Electric Boogaloo:

This is an AU and characters will be OOC sometimes. If you don’t like that, keep scrolling or block me.

Thank you for reading!

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 2 years ago

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I certainly didn’t see this being on my 2023 bingo card.

Edit: Ya’ll this meme above isn’t accurate anymore since other messages from the group came out. I made this meme when the first initial message came out.

The meme down below is more correct as to what’s probably happening with Ao3. Also wanted to say that despite the name of group, the people behind it are probably Russians.

Edit: July 11th, So Ao3 is back! Though the donation link is being attacked now. There’s also a second account on Twitter trying to impersonate Ao3.

#a03 #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #ao3 #hackers #anonymous Sudan #lgbt #ao3 smut #the disgusting smuts were the hackers words #like so what?#you can’t handle our noncon dubcon omegaverse angst mpreg smuts #go read fifty shades of grey then. it’s not our fault you can’t handle us #also the fact they called it disgusting smuts implies that they had to have went to ao3 and read smut on there #Edit: they just released a statement saying they want 30k in US dollars in bitcoin for the ao3 servers #i reblogged that statement twice I believe #and to hold a non profit organization as a virtual hostage?#really #like they’d have better luck holding Wattpad for hostage

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 9 months ago

Text

Cats&Coffee - C.SC

😻Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) with fem!reader 😺What: A lot of my brand of humour, perhaps borderline crack? Firefighter!Seungcheol. Business owner!Reader. Sort of a coffee shop au. Brother's best friend au. Reader is Shua's twin. [Simp!Chan as a background character but Simp!Chan is very important to me okay.] 😸Wordcount: 5.8k 🐱Warnings: Fire/arson mentions- nobody is hurt though and its not the main characters. Profanity. A lot of suggestive comments but no smut. More like sexual conversations. Reader is thirsty. Reader is kind of a brat but playfully. Mentions of bruises. Seungcheol calls reader princess&baby once. Implied Dom!Seungcheol but not actually shown. Let me know if I've missed any warnings, I'm terrible at knowing what to mention!

Summary; Okay, so here's the situation; you're just amusedly watching your best friend where he's perched up on a branch trying to convince the little cute fluff ball you are supposedly rescuing to get down, when some very attractive firefighters arrive to save the day. Low and behold, the leader of the bunch is the manifestation of your wettest wildest dreams; all buff and a little cocky and you're pretty certain he's showing off in that tight t-shirt for you. Do you; A- approach and flirt until he throws you over his shoulder or B- approach and flirt, and then completely forget to exchange numbers and only realise when he was long gone and then regret your very existence for the foreseeable future?

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist- Ao3 link

A/N; This all came from one of @sluttywoozi 's anon asks I saw that I then got caught on because they mentioned firefighter!Cheol. I don't have the link to the original ask but it's on her account! So inspiration credit goes to that anon!

Edited: 23/12/24

Lee Seokmin is probably the single sweetest person in the entire universe and everyone who meets the man will wholeheartedly agree. It is a unanimous decision that the man can do no wrong.

So, it's not his fault that the newest member of your cat sanctuary made a run for it out of the front door, which Seokmin hadn't closed behind him quickly enough, even though it kind of is. But nobody will ever say that, least of all to the Angel-On-Earth.

“I'm so sorry,” Seokmin apologises for perhaps the tenth time when he shuffles over to your side with his phone clutched in his hands and big, beautiful eyes staring up in a mix of worry and guilt at where Junhui is half wrapped around the branch under him with one hand outstretched trying to coax the brown ball of matted fluff to him.

“It's not your fault,” you assure, blindly reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Seokmin's left shoulder; you are too visually engrossed in what your best friend is doing in the tree to look over at Seokmin.

It isn't the first time that Junhui has climbed a tree to save a cat, or some other kind of dramatic action for the sake of a cat, but it never fails to amuse you highly.

“I should've closed the door,” Seokmin continues, lips pursed in a guilty little pout.

“It's fine, Seokie; Jun's part cat, he's made to climb trees.”

“Aren't cats really bad at getting down from trees?”

“No, they're actually good at climbing down.”

“Then why did Jun climb up after that one?”

“Because he's an idiot,” you snigger, your grin growing wider when your best friend yelps a little as he stretches too far and almost falls.

Well, almost is quite a stretch as his long legs are wrapped entirely securely around the branch and so is half of his left arm, but you're sure that it felt like he was about to fall at least.

“Hey!” Hansol calls, sticking his head out of the entrance door to the coffee shop you own with Junhui, though the main focus of Cats&Coffee is actually the sanctuary at the back.

Well, for you two and the staff, it is the main focus. You all are more than aware that the majority of the customers only visit the coffee shop with the intention of eyeing up the barista and well, you don't entirely blame them; Jeon Wonwoo is an unfairly attractive man.

“I'm going to go into your bag to get your notes, hyung!”

“Okay!” Seokmin calls back, giving Hansol a thumbs up in approval. Hansol returns the hand gesture and then goes back into the store, entirely oblivious to the customers ogling him.

Okay, so the customers don't just turn up for Wonwoo; they turn up for all of the men who are regularly in the building. But as Wonwoo is the sole barista and always in the shop out front and not the sanctuary out back mostly out of sight, you're pretty valid in saying the customers come for him.

“Do something!” Junhui calls after a few more attempts to reach the cat. You take your phone out and take a few pictures of your best friend. “Not what I meant!”

“I'm sending them to Kwannie, he'll be so pissed he missed this,” you muse, already tapping away on your phone to send the photos to Seungkwan, who you know will post them on the Instagram account he runs for Cats&Coffee.

Not because he is an employee or volunteer, because he isn’t, and technically it's not really an official account because the man made it himself one day after his own followers kept bugging him for more photos of the drinks and hot staff from the coffee shop. But because he enjoys posting embarrassing photos of the staff.

So Seungkwan runs what you and the other staff refer to as a fan account for the coffee shop and sanctuary, and he takes advantage of that joke to essentially thirst post about the men in a semi-serious way. Nobody knows if he does it for the sake of the customers, or if Seungkwan genuinely wants Wonwoo to 'grind him like those high quality beans'.

“It's okay, Jun-hyung! I've called for reinforcements!” Seokmin assures. “Just stay right there!”

“Just get the ladder and help me yourself!” Junhui whines in response.

“I'm scared of heights though!”

Junhui sighs and thunks his head on the branch slightly before he gets back to trying to inch along the branch carefully and grab the cat.

It isn't until you've put your phone back away a minute later that you register what Seokmin earlier said. “Hang on, reinforcements?” You question while turning to look inquisitively at the man still on your right where he’s watching Junhui carefully in concern.

“Yes, my best friend knows how to handle situations like this. He's done it a lot,” Seokmin answers confidently, so you accept his words and go back to grinning at the sight of your own best friend failing to win over a cat for the first time in his life.

Maybe you should've asked more questions though because when you hear Seokmin's name being called happily, you certainly do not expect to see a six-foot hunk of handsome fireman bouncing over with a wave and heart-shatteringly beautiful smile.

“Mingyu!” Seokmin calls back, smiling equally as bright and beautiful, and then the best friend is right with you and you're trying not to gawp up at him. “Thanks for coming. Jun-hyung went up to bring the cat down and now he's stuck and the cat won't listen.” Seokmin pouts over at the tree. Mingyu turns to look at the tree and pouts too.

How can a man be so cute and hot at the same time? You really have no idea but Mingyu pulls it off impeccably.

“Aw, poor Jun-hyung,” Mingyu coos sympathetically. “But no worries!” He perks up and turns back around to look at the pair of you. “We'll save them both! And by we I mean Soonyoung-hyung will save them; he's good at this. Animals love him!”

You notice two other men donning the same big jacket and trousers combination of a classic firefighter outfit approaching the tree and setting up the ladder. And hot damn if you aren't suddenly tempted to take up a new hobby of arson just to see them regularly because holy shit all three of these men are ridiculously attractive. You have to swallow thickly to keep the drool in your mouth.

The shorter of the pair by the tree holds onto the bottom of the ladder securely while the other climbs it smoothly. To your genuine delight, the man simply makes an encouraging noise while extending his hand out and the little furry demon of a cat trots straight over. You can't help but burst into cackling laughter as the feline climbs over Junhui as if he is nothing more than part of the tree while your best friend gawps in disbelief.

“Told you animals love him.” Mingyu grins proudly as you all watch Soonyoung traverse down the steps of the ladder, still as smoothly as he went up them even with one arm supporting the cat against his chest and its furry little head nuzzling into the man's jaw while Soonyoung giggles happily at the cute actions.

“A regular Snow White.” You grin.

“I'll be right back!” Soonyoung calls to Junhui and already walking over to the three of you. “Hi! I'm Soonyoung!” He greets brightly. “Your friend says to give the cat to you?” He tries to offer you the cat but it yowls and latches onto his jacket. Luckily, the material is thick and sturdy enough that the cat's claws don't actually reach the man's body.

“I think he likes you,” you muse.

“Aww,” Soonyoung coos and nuzzles the cat who loudly starts to purr. “He's so lovely, what's his name?”

“He hasn't got one yet. We run a sanctuary and he's our newest rescue.”

“A rescue?” Soonyoung turns round, sad eyes on you. “Is he okay.”

“Yeah, the vets gave him the go-ahead, he's just a little shit who wouldn't let them groom him at all. I think we might have to shave him if he doesn't let us.”

“But his hair is so beautiful.” He pouts. “It'll grow back well, right?”

“Of course,” you assure the man making his pout melt away.

“Uhm, hello?!” Junhui yells from the branch, gaining your attention back. Even the man at the bottom of the ladder hasn't been paying him any attention.

“Oh, right.” Soonyoung once again tries to hand the cat to you but the feline really doesn't want to let him go. You think it’s understandable. “Mingyu, can you go up and-”

“No way.” Mingyu shakes his head adamantly with wide eyes. “You know I'm scared of heights, hyung.”

“You're a firefighter who's scared of heights?” You deadpan. He pouts at you. “You're right; why do firefighters even need to climb ladders anyway? Just leave him in the tree, he'll get down when he falls.” Mingyu giggles a little.

“I got it,” a new voice calls, one you initially assume belongs to the man by the ladder but, oh are you so wrong.

A fourth firefighter appears; he’s clad in the same uniform as the others but something about the way he wears it seems more like it was made for him. He's already approaching the tree from the road where the fire engine is parked and he had been sitting inside in wait.

And you are unaware of this but he has definitely been checking you out the entire time and only got out with every intention of showing off.

He stops once at the foot of the tree and glances over his shoulder at the four of you before shucking off his jacket. Your throat dries at the sight of his broad, muscular torso filling out the fitted black t-shirt strapped over with the suspenders of his uniform trousers.

And talking of those trousers, holy shit does he fill them out well. You could've never imagined yourself wanting to bite someone's ass before but here you are, practically salivating at the curve of his plump backside in the ugly trousers. Which is only made more obvious when he starts to climb the ladder.

You don't even notice that the three men you’re standing with start to converse around you; your entire focus is on the epitome of your wet dreams manhandling your best friend down from the tree.

It probably says a lot that even though you have never and will never want to bone your best friend, the sight of the attractive stranger throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him down the ladder like he's nothing really does something to you.

And by that, you mean you'd really like it if the man would throw you over his shoulder, then promptly down onto his bed and climb on top. Or any surface so long as he puts himself between your thighs immediately afterwards.

And to top it off, the man doesn't even put Junhui down once both of his feet are back on the grass; he just turns and starts to approach. The man at the bottom of the ladder rolls his eyes and takes the ladder away knowing exactly what is happening here.

“I believe this belongs to you,” the man states once close enough, abruptly ending the conversation the other three men are having as they look at him. Though he's just staring you down with dark eyes and you're really not going to look away either.

“I wouldn't say he belongs to me,” you return, hoping he gets the hint that you are very single and very willing to mingle with him specifically.

“No? He told me you're his partner.” The fireman tilts his head a little, his left eyebrow raising in question.

“Work partners!” Junhui exclaims, still flopped over the man's shoulder and seeming to be rather willing to remain there for the foreseeable future. “Not romantic or sexual, gross! Not that's she's gross; she's really hot and I've heard good things from her ex-partners!”

Bless Wen Junhui for always trying to hype you up and get you a man.

“Good to know,” the firefighter murmurs, gaze blatantly checking you over. You take the chance to return the favour, and the three men with you quickly back up not wanting to be caught up in this very obvious and shameless flirtation.

Your phone suddenly starts to audibly vibrate in your pocket and you ignore it, more interested in the man in front of you.

“I think you're vibrating,” he points out amusedly.

“Mm, yeah, it's just my phone,” you confirm, half tempted to make a remark about how he could make something else vibrate on you if he wants, but pretty sure that's a little out of social protocol where first meetings with attractive strangers are concerned.

Next time though.

“Isn't he killing your shoulder?” You ask, nodding to Junhui's limp body.

“No.” Though the man still puts Junhui down carefully all the same as if reminded that he really should not stand there with a stranger draped over him any longer or it'd get really weird. “I can carry more weight than him for longer.”

“On your shoulder?”

“However I need to.”

“Good to know,” you return his earlier statement, gaze lingering on the way his chest is all but straining the material of his t-shirt. You don't notice his cocky smirk; you’re far too invested in imagining the material tearing open and freeing his beefy body for your viewing pleasure. Physical too, but those thoughts mostly come later when you're alone in bed.

Junhui stares between the two of you for a moment, wondering if either of you are going to say anything more or just continue to strip each other with your eyes. He figures it's the latter so walks off to try and claim the cat back from Soonyoung.

Neither you nor the hot fireman notice the world continuing to spin around you, up until Mingyu bounces over and pats the slightly shorter man on the shoulder with a; “Chief, we got a call; we need to go. Jihoon-hyung is already waiting to go.”

“Oh, right; work,” Chief replies, face twisting momentarily with displeasure, before he gets back into work mode and nods. “Alright, let's go.” He nods at you in farewell, and Mingyu waves brightly before the tallest rushes right back to the vehicle. The other detours to pick his jacket up from the grass then jogs to climb up into the vehicle too before it pulls away with its lights already flashing and siren kicking in when they're on the main road.

Kind of dazed, you toddle into the store and around the counter to lean dramatically against Wonwoo. There's a mystery stain on the sleeve of his hoodie near your face but you don't have the mental capacity to question it.

Wonwoo doesn't give you any attention until he's done with the customer in front of him.

“What's with you now?” He asks, pulling his arm around from where it's pressed against your chest to sling it around your shoulders instead and tug you more against his chest.

There's another mystery stain here and you vaguely recall that today is clearly a 'Wonwoo is trying to discourage is legions of fangirls' day. The man is dressed in an old, scruffy and stained hoodie and sweatpants combination; the hems barely even meet his ankles and wrists they’re so old, and he has to tie the waistband of the sweatpants up with multiple shoelaces strung together because the original tie was lost years ago. But his fangirls still stare at him as if he is Adonis reincarnated. You have to admit, he still does look unfairly beautiful like this.

“I'm in lust, Wonie,” you whine while squeezing around his waist as if you can get some of the frustration out that way.

The tall man makes a noise of understanding and pats your head as if you're one of the animals from out back. It actually feels pretty nice so you allow it. “Ah, the firefighter who carried Jun down. They told me you two were eye-fucking.”

“I don't want to eye-fuck him, I want to fuck-fuck him,” you complain, squeezing again.

Wonwoo wheezes a little and forces you to loosen your hold yet doesn't remove you from his body otherwise. “Then text him and arrange a date.”

You freeze, then jerk backwards to look up at him with a gaze so devastatingly heartbroken that Wonwoo immediately cups your face and starts to coo consolingly, even if he isn't sure why you look like your entire world is crumbling down around you.

“I forgot to get his number,” you wail.

Wonwoo's touch stills and his face falls flat, before turning unimpressed. “You're a fucking idiot.”

“I know.”

You know that if it wasn't for the new customer approaching the counter, Wonwoo would go on to tell you all the ways in which you are an idiot, but luckily for your currently very fragile ego, there is a customer, so he turns to take her order and goes back to ignoring you even as you attach to his back like some kind of sad-horny parasite.

For days you mourn the loss of what you have convinced yourself would be the best dick you will never be blessed with.

In this mourning, it does not at all cross your mind to simply ask Seokmin to ask his bestie to hook you up with his co-worker, nor does it cross Seokmin's mind either. It does, however, cross Wonwoo's mind; but the barista is kind of cruel at times and finds other's suffering amusing. Only when it's not serious though because Wonwoo can be a bit of a sadist but he's not an asshole.

Regardless of who does or does not think up the logical solution to your suffering, you continue to suffer for days.

Until you are pretty much handed the perfect opportunity to reunite with your lost lover by genuinely the last person you'd expect.

“Wait, what the fuck did you just say?” You demand, interrupting your brother's words as he talks away to Chan by the counter in an attempt to stop the youngest man from waxing poetic over your eyes, or ass, or maybe even your philtrum; you can never tell with your simp of a neighbour.

“I was telling Chan about the fundraiser I'm helping out with for my friends,” Joshua answers while giving you a long-suffering look; the same look he always wears around Chan because, well, who wants to hear someone blathering on about how hot their sibling is?

“You don't have friends,” you retort without thought.

“More than you,” your twin scoffs and picks up his mug from the counter to sip at happily.

Cats&Coffee doesn't actually offer a drink-in option due to how small the space is, so the mugs on hand are purely for the staff or your friends when they stop by. And Joshua, of course, has his own special mug because he's a pain in your ass, but you love him more than anyone else and let him pretty much do want he wants; include supply a hand painted mug for himself to drink his beverages from at the store. Even if you think it's ugly.

“I'm noona's friend,” Chan points out.

“You're her simp, you don't count,” Joshua corrects.

Chan immediately turns to pout all sad and cute at you. “I'm your simp and friend, right, noona?”

“Of course, Channie,” you coo while reaching over the counter to tap the tip of his nose. The younger beams happily and then sends your twin a smug look. Joshua just rolls his eyes. “What's the fundraiser for?” You ask, wanting to get back to the vital conversation.

“The firehouse-”

“When?” You gawp, leaning over the counter towards your brother with eyes wide.

“Tomorrow. Why the fuck are you looking at me like that? It's terrifying.”

“Ly beautiful. You mean terrifyingly beautiful,” Chan retorts simply without missing a beat before noisily sucking through his straw. Joshua chooses to entirely ignore Chan.

“I'm going,” you declare. “Tomorrow. I'm going to the fundraiser.”

“What? Why?” Joshua gives you a suspicious look.

“There will be a wet t-shirt contest, right?” You ask.

“What the fuck? No! This is a community event to raise funds for the family whose house burned down last week, dumbass. Not a fetish movie.”

“They're called porn, Shua,” you point out while pouting slightly at your horny dreams being broken so ruthlessly.

“So noona won't be in a wet t-shirt contest?” Chan asks, eyes sparkling with the thought.

“I'm leaving,” Joshua decides, picking up his mug to take with him and goes through to the sanctuary looking for a safe haven of his own away from you and Chan.

“Sometimes I think you two should just fuck and get it over with,” Wonwoo declares from where he's perched on the stool a little further down the counter munching away on the doughnuts Chan brought with him twenty minutes ago in an attempt to sweeten you all up and allow him to stay longer.

None of you will ever tell him that he doesn't need to bring treats every time he wants to hang around because truthfully, you are all useless at remembering to bring food to work or restocking the staff room, so Chan is often the only reason any of you eat in the middle of the week.

“I think so too,” Chan agrees wholeheartedly while nodding enthusiastically along.

Wonwoo grins in amusement. He always sticks around when Chan visits because he thinks it's the most entertaining thing ever how obviously obsessed with you the young man is. And, of course, Wonwoo thrives on goading the younger on and often making comments in regard to the one time you and Wonwoo fell into bed together.

Well, not bed exactly; more like over the counter late enough one night that it was really early the next morning. Regardless, Wonwoo likes to theatrically retell certain aspects of your tryst, which you know are exaggerated or entirely fake, just to watch Chan drool at the mental images.

“Ah, but once you've had a taste, you'll be begging for more,” Wonwoo replies dramatically.

“I already beg,” Chan is utterly shameless and it only makes Wonwoo's grin grow. “But I can beg more.” The younger looks at you now, but you're too busy texting Seungkwan to task him with getting all the information possible about the fundraiser the next day.

Chan wants to interrupt and ask you if him begging more is what you want him to do, but you look too focused and he loves it when you've got that serious expression on, so he just sighs dreamily and leans down on his elbows to stare adoringly at you.

Thanks to Seungkwan working his magic, Cats&Coffee snag a last-minute stall at the fundraiser where you, Junhui and Hansol set up all the merchandise left over from previous fundraisers.

Hansol always finds these fundraisers awkward purely because the Cats&Coffee special, limited edition fundraiser merchandise always consists of various items with photos of the men on them; the calendars of the men posing with cats are always a hit and a yearly preorder in November.

Junhui, however, doesn't even blink twice at seeing his own face staring back at him on the reusable travel mugs and keychains.

And Wonwoo happily avoids the stall to run the mini coffee truck a little to the right while pointedly ignoring the sign above him that boasts an old, edited picture of him. You and Seungkwan think Wonwoo looks absolutely precious with cat ears, whiskers and a little bell around his throat as he naps curled up with various cats. And you know the fans customers agree so the sign has remained for the past two years.

Usually, you love doing these fundraisers and get lost in convincing people to buy the merchandise, not that most of them need much convincing, to be honest. But you are rather adept at upselling with a way with words that would have the most skilled of grifters taking note, and you take great pride in it.

Yet today, you can't even enjoy watching Hansol awkwardly accepting payment for a photocard lucky dip that may or not be a little photo of his face, or Wonwoo trying to come up with new ways to discourage yet another of his fangirls from being a fangirl.

You're much more focused on watching the man of your wet dreams where he is giving tours of the fire engine and teaching people the importance of fire safety. You'd say teaching kids if you weren't positive that most of the kids are only standing and listening to him because their parents are there; and it’s very obvious which of the parents are present just to ogle the attractive man and don't give a single flying fuck about the words spilling from his mouth.

“Ohmygod, no, don't,” the familiar voice of your brother breaks you from your thirsting. You turn to look at him where he is standing between the coffee-cart and the gazebo you’re seated under. “Don't tell me you only came today because you've got the hots for Seungcheol.”

“Seungcheol?” You're up on your feet in seconds and grabbing a hold of your brother's weirdly sweaty face. You can't even focus on it; you have much more important matters to attend to. “His name is Seungcheol?”

“No,” Joshua mutters while trying to push your hands away from where you’re squishing his cheeks together into an unattractive pout. But he only has one hand free, the other holding an iced americano in a reusable cup with Seokmin's face on, so he can't really fight you off effectively or back up unless he wants to take a tumble to the gravel with Wonwoo.

“It is! Seungcheol. Man, that's a good name, sounds great. Feels great.”

“Stop it, ew,” he complains, looking genuinely pained at your words.

“Only when you tell me everything about him, but most importantly, is he single?”

“He's my friend, don't.”

“You've fucked my friends; I'm going to fuck yours whether you like it or not.”

Your brother whines wordlessly knowing that you have him beat there. He has definitely had various relations with various friends of yours in the past, and most certainly will again in the future too.

“Ugh, fine,” he concedes while slumping, so you make a happy noise and let him go.

Only now do you pay attention to the sweat on your palms and pull a disgusted face, before wiping them on his t-shirt, though that's not exactly in a much better condition. “Why the fuck are you so sweaty?” You eye him in pure disgust.

“Because Jihoon and I are doing demonstrations.” You give him a questioning look. “Exercise, you know; the thing people do to be healthy?” He rolls his eyes. “The guys asked him to lead a basic exercise demonstration to help encourage healthy habits and he asked me to help, you know, seeing as I'm a personal trainer with him.”

“Oh!” You make a noise of understanding. “Jihoon is your hot colleague.” Then another revelation comes to you and you gasp while hitting his arm a few times. He bats you in return, then pouts as he rubs at the impact spot on his bicep. “He was holding the ladder!”

“What?” Joshua looks at you as if you're crazy. Which, honestly, is a pretty common expression he wears around you or anyone who works at Cats&Coffee, or regularly spends time there.

You really do associate with a top-notch bunch of weirdos.

“The other day Junnie got stuck up a tree so Seokie called his hot bestie, who turns out to be a hot fireman with hot coworkers and the only one who I didn't talk to was Jihoon! I didn't recognise him in his uniform, and he's blond now and grew his hair out?”

“Mm, yeah, looks good right?” He enthuses and you nod. “I'll tell him you said that.”

“Mm sure,” you agree without care. “But back to the important matter here; Chief Seungcheol.” Your eyes are practically burning with how much they glisten at the thought of the buff man currently showing the hose attached to the fire engine.

Man, you wish he'd show you his hose; innuendo emphatically intended.

“I'm so going to regret this but yes, he's single.” Your brother sighs. “And now I know how you two met, I'm guessing you're the woman whose number he forgot to get after eye-fucking her with her friend on his shoulder.”

“Man, that was hot; he could throw me around so-”

“Okay, no, shut up. You're my baby sister, I don't need to hear that,” he complains, backing up with a shake of his head out of the gazebo.

“You're less than an hour older!”

“Can't hear you!” He calls back over his shoulder, already jogging back to his own station across the lot.

You turn to sit back down and happen to notice the Chief himself standing in front of the fire engine and no longer surrounded by visitors, while staring in your direction, with his big arms crossed over his big chest and a dark look in his eyes. You expect him to turn and get back to work, but he tilts his head when your eyes meet; a silent demand before he turns and walks past the huge vehicle and through the staff-only door to enter the firehouse.

“Fellas, I'm going to go get me some dick,” you declare, patting Junhui on the shoulder as you pass him to edge around the table.

“Ask him how to handle his big hose!” Junhui calls without looking up from the keyrings he is rearranging.

Hansol wonders how you two ever manage to run a business when you both always say such things so blatantly in front of customers, but then he notices the young women at the table all fawning over the merchandise obliviously and wonders no longer.

The interior of the firehouse is blessedly cool in comparison to the hot weather outside; even under the gazebo out of the sun's direct glare, you were starting to get a little sweat dappled.

“Hey,” the voice makes you jump slightly and you turn to find Seungcheol leaning back against a dinner table. You take a quick glance around behind him and realise it's the kitchen area. You're standing in the mostly open area of the ground floor, though there's a couch further to your right and you briefly imagine him pinning you down on it.

“Hi, Chief,” you reply while sauntering closer.

“You know Shua?” He asks bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush. He's pretty certain you both have one thing on your mind based on the way he has noticed you staring him down hungrily for the past two hours.

“He's my brother,” you inform and stop close enough in front of him that the tips of your sandals are almost touching the toes of his clunky uniform boots. You dread to think how hot his feet must be in those.

For a second, you're genuinely disgusted at the thought, but then you notice how his crossed arms bulge and threaten to rip the hems of his sleeves around his biceps and suddenly you don't even know what feet are.

“You're his twin?” He gawps, arms dropping to his sides in disbelief and crushing disappointment.

You hum with a nod and pout a little at the lack of bulging biceps in your vision. But then you realise you can now see his pecs stretching out the black material and you're happy again.

“Stop,” he mutters and reaches up to physically tilt your head up so that you're no longer blatantly checking him out with heavy eyes. “You know your brother is pretty much my best friend, right?” He genuinely looks pained. “I can't fuck you.”

“Yes, you can.” You smirk and step closer, pressing your palms to his chest. You can feel him inhale deeply when you make a home for yourself against him, your thighs locked between each other's and so close to applying pressure exactly where you both want it. “He's essentially given his blessing.”

“He has?” He doesn't fully believe you; that doesn't sound like the Joshua he knows, but he's a weak-ass man when it comes to you. Literally, he already decided he'd do some insane things from the moment he first saw your ass while he was checking you out in the fire engine the other day.

So he lifts his hands to initially settle on your hips but they very quickly, almost immediately, slide down to settle in your back pockets. Not quite touching you up but pretty fucking close.

“Mm, well, blessing isn't the right word. I told him that he's fucked enough of my friends that he has no say in which of his friends I fuck.”

“Do you plan to fuck any of his other friends?” He raises an eyebrow and tugs you a little closer.

“He doesn't have any friends,” you retort and he huffs a short laugh. “Just Jihoon, right? I mean, he does look really fucking good blond so-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence, princess,” Seungcheol mutters darkly, almost glaring at you in warning. You bite back a grin. “So I'll ask again; do you plan to fuck any of Shua's other friends?”

“Depends on if you disappoint me or not, doesn't it, Chief?” You tease while winding your arms around his neck with a playful smile.

“You're never going to want to fuck anyone else when I'm done with you.”

“That bad, huh?” His face drops. It takes everything in you to not crack up laughing. “Going to put me off sex in general?”

“Shua's right; you're a fucking brat.”

“Mm, yeah,” you confirm shamelessly and press against him entirely. “Kinda think you're into it though, Chief.”

“Is that going to be a thing? Calling me Chief? Or do you just not know my name?” He wonders, head tilting a little and one arm wrapping tight around your waist, while his thigh between yours pushes up between your legs making your eyes light up with joy.

Finally you have him.

“I know your name, but shouldn't I call the boss by his title?” You coo faux-innocently.

“"I'm the boss, huh?” You nod and he smirks. “Damn fucking right, baby.”

Seungcheol doesn't wind up pinning you to the couch, not right away at least. He does, however, take you upstairs to the office and bend you over the desk until you have bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips and nothing but his name on your tongue.

And as it turns out; he was right. You never want to fuck anyone but him again.

A/N- I know this reads like it should end in smut and I did intend to write it but I'm very certain I would not do the vibes justice, I'm so out of practice with smut. But maybe in the future? But if you want some good smut, go read sluttywoozi's stuff fr, you will not be disappointed

Anyway, I hope you liked, please let me know what you think& reblog!

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