#so hard to pick a favorite part in that song

[captain-hawks]

oh well... I mean... how about oliver x snowed in? do we manage not to punch him in the face by the end of it?

over easy 🎀 oliver aiku x f!reader

In which domesticity creeps into the all the cracks in you and Oliver's casual arrangement as you find yourself snowed in at his apartment.

1.4k — fluff, soft oliver, fwb, mentions of sex

It’s no good for your stupid, reckless heart—this predicament.

“Over easy? And two sugars in your coffee, right?” Oliver’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

It’s so fucking domestic, the way he says it. 

Like you’re not just some girl he fucks into his king size mattress in the middle of the night twice a week.

Like you’re not just going on your third morning of being stranded at his apartment because your car’s buried under several feet of snow that just keeps on coming down.

Like it’s okay that your heart fumbles meekly behind the confines of your ribcage whenever he tugs you back into his bed to stay the night. 

(That beats so hard it aches when he spins you around to kiss you in the doorway on your way out.)

You’re not dating.

You can’t date him.

Oliver doesn’t date.

But he’s handsome and charming and polite and funny and the sex is so good that you’ve never come so hard in your life and—

There’s no fucking Oliver out of your system unless it’s with Oliver himself.

And if you have some inconvenient feelings dangling on the sidelines, that’s your cross to bear on your own time when he’s not fucking you stupid in the backseat of his car or eating you out on his kitchen counter.

You don’t ask Oliver what he does on nights that he’s not with you. And you tell yourself it’s because it’s none of your goddamn business, not because you know his answer would probably hurt you too much to hear.

You assume, anyway.

But now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve lost any and all hope of digging your car out by tomorrow for your family dinner—not that you really wanted to go to that, anyway. 

And Oliver’s humming a Christmas song under his breath while he makes you breakfast, while you stand in his living room wearing nothing but one of his practice jerseys while perusing his bookshelf. 

It feels dangerously, terribly, awfully domestic.

And part of you thinks you’d be better off trudging across town home on foot than bearing the full weight of this walk of shame when the snow melts.

You’ve spent hours on his couch over the past few days, and he can’t seem to stop touching you. He scoots closer if you sit down too far away, places a hand on your ankle if it’s in reach, tucks your feet under his thigh. He puts his head in your lap or tugs yours down into his when you start yawning. He plays with your hair and your fingers—

And the two of you have been making your way through your favorite show, one that he’s never seen, one that you didn’t even think he would like. But it was his idea.

You even went down to his apartment building’s gym last night—something which didn’t feel strange in and of itself until Oliver kept appearing out of nowhere any time a guy tried to strike up a conversation with you, going so far as outright making out with you while you were on one of the stationary bikes. 

(The two of you barely made it through the door back up in his apartment before he was fucking you right there on the floor in the entryway.)

And you’ve yet to examine the feeling that stirred in your gut when you found oat milk in his fridge, knowing full well he doesn’t drink it. 

“Oh yeah, almost forgot to tell you. That’s for you, I picked it up the other day. I know you hate using regular milk in your coffee.”

—and the bag of mini dark chocolate bars you spotted in his cabinet last night.

“Yeah, yeah, you were right. Dark chocolate’s better.”

—and the brand-new, full-size bottle of your body wash that was staring you in the face when the two of you climbed into his shower the first morning, a mirror to the tiny travel bottle that you’ve taken to keeping in your purse for accidental sleepovers.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to have to carry soap around in your purse—”

You hadn’t even realized he knew you did that.

And yet now, as your eyes stray to the Christmas tree that sits in the corner of his living room between two large windows that overlook the city below, it’s the sight beneath it that promises to be your undoing.

Nestled between several gifts addressed to his parents and sisters is a box wrapped in gold paper with a blue bow on it. Your name is written carefully in his handwriting on the white tag stuck to the top of it. 

Your heart catches in your throat.

—and oh god you’re going to kick his ass if it’s some stupidly expensive piece of jewelry that he probably didn’t even pick out himself in there, one that’ll make you feel like you’re his even if you’re really not.

And you didn’t even get him anything because this is fucking casual—

“Wanna open it now?” You jump as Oliver’s voice comes up beside you, his chest against your back while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” you stall, your noses brushing when you turn to look at him, but he spins you back toward the tree. 

“Yeah, I’m too impatient though,” he sighs, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as he reaches past you, arms hugging your sides while he places the package in your hands.

It’s oblong and light.

You’re glad, if nothing else, that he’s not directly facing you to see your uneasy facial expression. Slowly, with the tip of your finger, you begin to peel back the wrapping paper.

White bristles and bright green plastic greet you beneath it.

A toothbrush.

“Be my girlfriend,” Oliver whispers, nose brushing against your cheek. 

You choke out a laugh as your heart swoops. “You got me a toothbrush?”

Girlfriend.

“You would have thought jewelry was a tacky way to ask,” he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You tilt your face into the kiss, murmuring against his mouth, “I didn’t get you anything.”

You almost did.

Several times, actually.

But nothing screams casual hookup gone rogue like a fucking Christmas present—and that was the last thing you wanted him to think.

And yet—

Oliver shrugs, spinning you around and cupping your face, the toothbrush still clutched in your hands. “You’re my gift.”

There’s no hiding the ridiculous smile that creeps across your face as he kisses you, tugging you with him as he walks backward into the couch, pulling you into his lap.

His lips are warm and soft as his mouth engulfs yours, kissing you in a way that you know now is far too familiar to be casual. Far too easy and gentle and intimate as he cups the back of your head and feathers a thumb against your hip bone and nips your bottom lip and laughs and—

He stops kissing you and looks at you seriously. “Oh, I also got you that dough mixer you kept looking at videos of when we were laying in bed that one night, but it’s going to be late because of the storm. I don’t want you to think I actually only got you a toothbrush.”

You blink at him.

“Oliver!”

He grins. “What?”

“I’m leaving right now to get you a gift,” you grouse, trying to hop out of his lap.

The room spins as he lifts you up, and you find yourself caged in beneath him on the couch.

“We’re snowed in,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“I’ll walk,” you frown.

“Nope,” he counters, hands sliding to pin your wrists above your head. “I’ve got the perfect gift already. Have you met my girlfriend yet?”

He reaches down into his pocket to pull out his phone, and you’re met with a photo of you laughing that you hadn’t even realized he took.

And it’s his wallpaper, for fuck’s sake.

Girlfriend.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs as he puts down his phone and cups your face, lips brushing against yours. “And smart.” Kiss. “And funny.” Kiss. “And—”

“I didn’t say yes.” 

Oliver stills, blinking several times as he looks down at you with a serious expression.

You roll your eyes as you thread your fingers in his hair and tug his mouth back down against yours.

“Yes.”

A pleased sound of satisfaction rumbles in his throat as his mouth skirts away from your lips, leaving a chaotic, hot, messy trail of kisses across your face, down your neck, across your collarbone—

The smoke alarm goes off somewhere in the kitchen.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For the totally not official not-blog-event, may I request some happenstance where Dilah and Lilia have to look after the other’s son for some time? (As for whether or not Lilia is disguised, I’ll leave it up to you)

Referencing this post!

I’m going to write some headcanons for this one! ^^

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Most would feel insulted when their dorm leader goes out of their way to find someone to supervise them in their absence—but not Deuce!! He’s stoked to have a wise mentor figure to tutor and guide him. (He needs good role models if he wants to be a good role model himself one day, right?) Deuce just wasn’t expecting Lilia to be picked! (“Everyone else I asked was unavailable,” Riddle sighed. “Now do not burn the roses down while I’m away, is that understood?”)

“Kufufu. You don’t need to be shy or scared around me. I’m just your cute and friendly neighborhood Lilia-chan 🎵” he insists with an angelic smile. Almost immediately, Deuce feels like something… bad… is about to happen. He brushes that feeling off and happily welcomes Lilia to Heartslabyul (albeit a bit too stiffly and formally)—he has to remain polite with his upperclassmen, after all!

He brings a suitcase full of "the essentials". Lilia proceeds to pull out a bunch of weird-looking ingredients and ancient items. He claims they're all necessary for old wives' remedies--in case Deuce needs them!--as well as extra nutrients for his "world class" cooking that Deuce will get to experience later.

Lilia is a senpai and therefore theoretically a good tutor when Deuce needs help with his homework. And he is, for the most part! Problem is, when it comes to history, Lilia has a tendency to ramble and start telling personal stories. He ends up going so off topic that Deuce forgets what the initial question he had was.

Gets all excited to help his ward train for Track and Field Club. Lilia makes his own obstacle course in the Rose Gardens and drills Deuce in it. Deuce thought it would be a regular track at first, but then he notices the spikes, the lava pit, and the venomous snakes littering the field. "What? But this is the most basic of the basic!" Lilia tells him--so Deuce takes a deep breath, steels himself, and charges through.

Lilia wears a frilly "Kiss the Cook" apron as he cooks up some food! Trey nervously watches him and offers to help, but Lilia turns him down at every corner. As Trey leaves the kitchen, he tries signaling to Deuce to not take a bite. Too bad it goes over his head. One bite, and Deuce is knocked out cold. Lilia unfortunately misinterprets this as his food being so good, it took Deuce straight to heaven!

They bond over music! Lilia blares some of his favorite rock and metal songs for Deuce, who really vibes with how wild and free they are! He even shows Deuce some compositions he put together with the Pop/Light Music Club, demonstrating on his electric guitar (yes, he packed that with him). At one point, Cater joins them for a jam sesh but clocks out quickly--he's not sure how much his ears can take the volume. Riddle shouts at them to "turn it down", but it's hard to hear him over the music!

Lilia tries to help out with the chores by enchanting the brooms and mops to move on their own. Deuce asks him to please teach him. He doesn't want Lilia to do all the work--he wants to learn how to pull off such spectacular magic too! Lilia commends him for being so proactive, and, with a chuckle, sets to showing him the ropes.

Wakes Deuce up the next morning up hanging from his ceiling upside down. He screams, waking up Ace and his two other roomies, which delights Lilia to no end. "Rise and shine," he chirps. "My, you're so energetic, even first thing in the morning!"

Silver’s used to taking care of after himself while his father’s away on long journeys of self/discovery all over Twisted Wonderland. If he ever gets lonely, he has his animal friends and the Zigvolts to turn to. So… how did he somehow end up with a classmate’s mother looking after him? “It’s good to broaden your horizons and to meet new people!” Lilia had told him (right before casually peacing out)

“Put’r there, kid!” Dylla seizes Silver’s hand and gives it a good, vigorous shake. Her energy and strength definitely startles him wide awake (he was starting to drift off)! Silver suddenly realizes where Deuce got it from.

She cooks up omurice for Silver. It's Deuce's favorite, so she figures it would be a crowd pleaser for him as well. Dylla even puts in the effort to pipe on a little ketchup heart on the omelet, just how her son likes it~ Silver's surprised by the cuteness and how... non-lethal the omurice is. When he compliments Dylla, she simply laughs and tells him to eat up, cuz growing boys like him need more protein!

Dylla's impressed by Silver's horde of animal friends! She's used to seeing wild rabbits and birds in Clock Town, but never so many tamed woodland creatures. She tries to clumsily greet them, with Silver serving as the mediary and coaxing the birds to hop on her fingers and head. "No way!" Dylla gasps, giggling at the blue jay nipping at her neck. "Quick--take a picture of this, I need to show Deuce!" (Better that Silver take it anyway, Dylla's not that up to speed on the latest tech.)

She rolls up her sleeves and sets to tidying up Diasomnia! Silver suspects Dylla must be used to doing many things on her own, because she refuses help from him even when she's actively struggling. He silently steps in and takes the heavy armchair from her. "Don't push yourself too hard. If we work together, we can get things done sooner. It's... okay to rely on other sometimes--so please rely on me. Mrs. Spade."

Dylla finds him sleeping on a couch in the lounge. Instead of waking him up, she sighs and slips off her jacket and hat, placing them on Silver to keep him warm as he dreams. "... What am I going to do with you?" she says with a soft smile.

Silver's a good listener. Dylla doesn't mean to, but one thing leads to another and suddenly she's sharing all about her experiences as a single mother and what it's been like raising Deuce. He validates her and expresses empathy, saying that his own father must have similar experiences. "I'm thankful to him for working so hard to provide me with this life. I'm sure Deuce must feel the same way about you."

She tells him off when Silver tries to head out for his usual rounds of night patrol. Dylla turns him right back around and orders him to march off to bed! She worries that he'll be off doing something unsavory--or, Sevens forbid--get caught up in danger, all things her own son has been through.

Oh no! Silver slept in and now he's running late for class. Not to worry though. Dylla pulls up on a bike and tells him to hop on, she'll drive him to school. Silver thanks her and climbs aboard... not knowing that he's in for the wildest, roughest ride of his life. Hey, at least he'll be wide awake when he arrives for first period.

[daisychain-unchained]

“Oh Gabriel, let me blow your horn” damn near gotta be the gayest thing I’ve heard in a Zeppelin song

[teamhawkeye]

5 Favorite Songs at the Moment

tagged by @alicestrange98 thank you! <3

Herald of Darkness - Old Gods of Asgard

The Politics of Dancing - Re-Flex

Spiral - Wye Oak

Far From Any Road - The Handsome Family

6 Underground - Sneaker Pimps

tagging @scarstarved @minilev @corvosattano @perpetuagf @falsemortal @red-nightskies @cellard0ors and anyone else wanting to join in!

[theunderthecover]

(hi its the anon from earlier, now clearly not an anon. im sending this before I fold into myself. <3)

Scar has been tempted to fold the towel for the past half hour, no matter how safe and lucrative this scheme is. 

Doing anything in front of a crowd for 5 hours nonstop is a tiring task by itself, but singing on top of that could make the most experienced performer want to keel over.

But, a group of powerful and wealthy adventurers entered the tavern 30 minutes ago, and Grian's eyes narrowed in their direction. It's a look the Aarakocra only has when a bigger fish (a bigger prize) unexpectedly appears on the job. It's a look that leads to some of their biggest catches. So, Scar will sing and entertain the party til they're blackout drunk and his throat dies so Grian can snatch whatever caught his eye. 

The energy in the tavern has long since died down, as most rowdy tavern goers are either off to bed or too tired to be loud anymore. The only thing that fills the room now is quiet chatter, the barkeep's everlasting service, Scar's continued performance. He concludes yet another song and basks in another round of faint applause. 

From the corner of his eye, he can see a faint bird-like footprint appear in a small puddle of cheap alcohol near the extremely drunk targets.

With Grian so close, Scar needs to have an iron grip on the room's attention again despite the itch in his throat and the room's energy being at an all-time low. There are too many drifting eyes that could see something being stolen. 

After staring at the puddle for a moment too long, he gets an idea. 

"You've been a delight tonight, kind folks! It'll be just one more song to wrap up the night." Scar declares to the whole tavern from his stage, "Though I'll be sure to leave you all filled with wonder and awe! As a treat, for being such an Amazin' audience tonight." He finishes the segway with an exaggerated wink, causing some patrons to giggle. 

He casts minor illusions with a flourish, making the sound of soft instruments echo around the room. As a viol begins to play, the quiet conversation amongst patrons lulls as every eye--curious, confused, excited--turns to the stage once more.

Scar's eyes close, and he relaxes as he takes in the music the magic creates. He thinks of the song with intent, pulls upon vivid memories to inspire emotion, and lets the feeling consume every movement. He takes one more breath, then, at the cue, begins to sing with a slightly rough voice.

"In a perfect world… one we’ve never known…” 

The tone is jarringly different from the previous songs of the night.

"We would never need to face the world alone…."

The instrument choice, low soothing energy, a soft romantic sway, and the bard's renewed life- all combined- make a near-perfect hook for everyone within the tavern. 

"They can have the world…" 

All Scar has to do is follow through with the catch and reel in the hook enough to let Grian catch the fish before anyone in the pond suspects a thing.

"We'll create our own."

He opens his eyes slightly, half-lidded to obscure where he looks but wide enough to see one of the wealthy adventurer's satchels be swiped off the table and quickly replaced by an identical copy. A bit of panic wells up inside him at the precarious move, but he swallows and trusts his partner knows what he's doing.

"I may not be brave, strong, or smart, but somewhere in my secret heart-" His voice slightly cracks at the rise, but he breathes through it and tries not to let it go completely off-pitch. Scar looks at the ceiling and tries to force his movements make it look intentional, stretching out the ache in his throat. 

"I know, love will find a way… anywhere I go…" Scar lowers his head in time to catch a now visible Grian acting like he just walked in the room, "I'm home if you are there beside me…"

He lets the music breathe, in a tune he knows by heart, as he watches his partner-in-crime casually head for the exit.  

Grian turns around and leans against the wall by the door, a stolen bag tucked under a wing. He signals to leave. They make eye contact.

The warm tavern lights again, and Aarakocra's red tones make Grian look like a painted sunrise. Scar, despite knowing he should be focused on finishing this scheme, doesn't look away. Doesn't stop to think about causing glorious chaos in their victorious exit.

Scar continues to sing, holding Grian's eyes within his own all the while. 

"Like dark, turning into day…"

Grian subtly pauses, confused but suddenly seeming as spellbound as the partner-in-crime in the metaphorical spotlight.

Still, their eyes hold.

 "… somehow we'll come through…"

Grian's incredulously mouthed words, which he fondly knows are along the lines of 'Scar, what are you doing?!'

Still, their eyes hold. 

"… now that I've found you..."

Scar's posture slightly sags with the exhaustion of this performance. He feels the cantrip near its minute end, but the violins swell into an off-script crescendo anyway.

Their eyes still hold.

"… love will find a way..."

The music cuts off abruptly as the spell ends.

He sees Grian suddenly look rather lost, but Scar is not sure why.

The whole tavern is bathed in silence.

He feels compelled to make the song at least sound finished. So…

"Now that I've found you..."

… he repeats himself, even with nothing else to support the song. 

(Scar doesn't admit that, at that moment, as he and his partner swim in each other's eyes, he didn't only repeat it for the performance.)

"… love will find a way."

The room roars into one of the loudest applause at night despite the smaller number of people.

And their eyes still hold.

bard scar singing a little love song at the crastle tavern and making direct eye contact with warlock grian

i think i just got murdered by my own thought what the fuck

[trench-rot]

HEARTSICK - YMIR

Got me just to hate me more, loved me just to play me You're killing me from the inside Then you go tell me that I'm always yours, say that just to leave me So heartsick while you fade into the night I tried running, now I'm crawling All I can do is submit Barely have the strength to spit the venom Dripping from your ivy lips Someone save me, I am pleading I don't know what's to come if my life comes undone Who'll be next in the line when they gaze in your eyes Got me just to hate me more, loved me just to play me You're a devil in a pretty disguise Think you could hurt me like you did before Comeback just to break me, don't kiss me like it's fine

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[catboyieejeno]

mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

[afterglowsainz]

oscar piastri & 3 🧡

did i fall out of line when i called you? | oscar piastri

song; mess it up - gracie abrams

part of the spotify wrapped special

Every time Oscar got too close, he messed it up.

But it was okay; you forgave him because he was Oscar. Oscar, who had commitment issues. Oscar, who was trying hard to have a lasting relationship with you. Oscar, who loved you deeply. But you also knew he was Oscar, who couldn’t have something good without ruining it.

The day he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you said yes, he went to a club to celebrate and ended up fighting a man who had simply asked you where the bathroom was, thinking the man was flirting with you. He ended the night with a split eyebrow and a broken nose.

The day he was supposed to meet your parents, he got so nervous that he drank too much whiskey and fell asleep, missing lunch with your parents and disappointing you in the process.

The first time you went to watch one of his races in person, anxiety got the best of him, and he didn’t pick you up on the way to the airport, using the excuse that he “forgot.” You knew he hadn’t forgotten—he had simply chickened out and was too coward to admit the truth.

Still, you forgave him every time.

It was just a few hours were left until an event McLaren was hosting with one of its sponsors, and Oscar had begged you to accompany him. It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree. But something felt off; something didn’t feel right.

When Oscar suddenly stopped replying to your messages, you got worried. Early in the relationship, it happened more often—he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend, so he wasn’t used to replying to messages. It was one of the many conversations where you had to remind him that you didn’t care if he didn’t reply instantly; you knew he was a busy man. But he couldn’t go four days without responding and then show up as if nothing had happened. After that talk, his communication improved.

With less than thirty minutes left before your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up for the event, and no sign of him, you knew—without him even saying it—that he had once again changed his mind about taking you, and you wouldn’t be attending the event that night. You looked at your reflection in the mirror: the beautiful long white dress you had bought specifically for the occasion and the elegant silver jewelry adorning your neck—all for nothing.

When it became obvious Oscar wasn’t coming, you took everything off, put on your pajamas, crawled under the covers, and turned on your computer to watch a movie. At some point during the night, you checked Instagram and came across the worst thing you could’ve seen. A video of your boyfriend at the event’s afterparty, dancing with a girl who was definitely not you.

Technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong—he hadn’t kissed her or slept with her. But the feeling of betrayal consumed you entirely and settled deep inside.

It was over.

Months had passed since the breakup, and Oscar couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were his favorite thought whenever he didn’t have to use his brain power—while waiting in line for coffee, while driving from home to the MTC, when turning off the lights and trying to sleep. He thought about you and how much he missed you.

He knew there were many things you had forgiven him for that you didn’t have to. And he also knew that the one thing you hadn’t forgiven him for was what he regretted the most. Nothing had happened with the girl in the video—they’d only danced a couple of songs. But afterward, he felt dirty and missed you.

When he arrived at your place, he was shocked to see you crying and then shocked at how quickly your tears turned into angry shouts. You ended things, throwing him out of your apartment.

But tonight, he couldn’t sleep. He wanted to hear your voice and see you. He knew if he showed up at your place, you wouldn’t open the door. So, he settled for the second-best thing and called you.

Did he cross the line? Was it too soon? He knew the answer was yes when you didn’t answer his call. And when he called again, it went straight to voicemail.

The third-best thing, then.

Oscar opened your chat, the one he had neglected far too often but now couldn’t stop staring at, remembering the goodnight messages you used to send him and the ones wishing him luck in his races.

“I know I wasn’t a good boyfriend at all, and I know I don’t deserve you in any way, but I miss you. You made me a better person and a better man. I know every time something good happened between us, I managed to ruin it one way or another, and I’m truly sorry. But I also feel like if you let me back in, we can make it better. I can do better. I’ve improved my habits, and I’ve pulled myself back together. I’m so sorry for all the times I hurt you. I want to show you I’m not the same person as before. Please, give me one more chance.

I love you.”

Send.

[good-griief]

losing game pt. 1

HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!

as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic

part two part three

read me click me

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Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life. 

When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize. 

She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.

And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke. 

Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.

She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned. 

There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed. 

Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek. 

There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her. 

So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set. 

“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up. 

You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”

You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh. 

You were such an idiot. 

She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known. 

Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing. 

You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt. 

And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come. 

When would you learn your lesson?

“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know… probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”

And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you’d ever heard. 

Still, she texted you after the show. 

She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms. 

But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show. 

You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule. 

And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos. 

every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way. 

The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.” 

Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.” 

Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off. 

The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.” 

Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.” 

And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers. 

Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away. 

Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account. 

Then you called Ellie. 

It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung. 

But she called right back. 

You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”

You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing. 

“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?” 

“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“If you’re already headed to sleep—“

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow. 

You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment. 

You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse. 

“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter. 

Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go. 

There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek. 

“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before. 

You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead. 

Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.

[jjoongiesbetter]

✎ᝰ. mon's ateez fic recommendations (part 1)!

mdni!

│hi there! i haven't read much lately so the first part came across as a bit shorter than i expected but the next ones will surely be longer!

— as a writer myself, i just wanted to take a moment to thank all the authors for sharing such incredible writing, your hard work is truly appreciated! thank you for sharing your writing with us! ♡

──────── ♡⸝⸝

⤷ kim hongjoong x reader

♡┆ugh, as if by @ennysbookstore; the whole mini-series is just amazing and i enjoyed each part a lot! once i started i couldn't stop reading! loved how well hongjoong was written! the build-up of the first part was top-notch! and the character development... i should thank the author on my knees for writing this masterpiece. one of the best authors out there! definitely will read again!

♡┆swapped by @daisykihannie; the prompt is just so fun and interesting, one of the most creative ones i stumbled across! i haven't read something like this before. enjoyed it very very much!

♡┆punching bag by @mulloey; i must admit it was so just so undeniably hot, angry hongjoong and also so well-written! you will find me re-reading it an unholy amount of times.

♡┆clumsy hearts, steady love by @edenesth; WHAT IF I TELL YOU I CRIED? i already commented on this one on my main but im going to repeat myself! incredibly written, hongjoong suits the concept so well, my heart hurt a bit while reading but it's hongjoong, of course, i forgive him. somehow still very cute.

⤷ jeong yunho x reader

♡┆active recovery by @k-hotchoisan; y'all so i was always so shy about commenting on smut but tbh don't we all read it? author killed it yet again! got me hot, bothered and i am starting to consider a gym subscription!

♡┆the drill by @byuntrash101; look i know this one was posted last year, and i am so mad for not reading it sooner😭 i loved the storyline, wooyoung as a side character was just so funny, yunho without rizz altered my brain chemistry. i can't lie i was thinking about this fic for days after i read it! it's the perfect blend of fun and smut.

♡┆private lessons by @bombuni; i must admit i love professor yunho and it is always a pleasure finding and reading such fics, especially when it's as good as this one! (would love to see a part two one day)

♡┆muffled by @desirehorizon; the plot!!! the writing!!! the smut!!! and it was funny too!!! what more can i want? perfect!! imma say it once again but i enjoyed every word of this fic!!! can't wait to read more from the author!

⤷ song mingi x reader

♡┆still your biggest fan by @byuntrash101; good god it was just so incredibly hot, we need to appreciate the idea because it surely is creative! who doesn't just love teasing mingi? let's agree that we all do.

♡┆sour candy by @0097linersb; loved the idea🙂‍↕️ needy mingi is my favorite mingi, it was very very hot. you better find the time and read it!

⤷ choi jongho x reader

♡┆minor nuisance by @everyonewooeverywhere; i tell you they are in love love! trust me, you definitely need to read this one! jongho was just so sweet, a great fluff/smut combo and now i need jongho in my life even more :(

♡┆freestyle lap by @bro-atz; we all should know by now that bro is just simply one of the best when it comes to smut and they never, never disappoint. i definitely needed to read this one after i saw that pool jongho pics. if you haven't read it yet, what are you even doing?

♡┆falling and sleeping by @seonghwaddict; it was posted earlier this year but i just had to include it :( it was just utterly cute, jongho is adorable. well-written, and melted my poor heart.

multiple members:

⤷ choi jongho x kang yeosang x reader

♡┆the post show high by @bombuni; i must shamelessly admit while reading it i felt like the author somehow got into my brain and just picked one of my fantasies, hope it's not tmi. so saying i loved it it's an understatement! one of my favorite authors for real!

pairings:

⤷ kim hongjoong x jeong yunho (hohong)

ao3 ♡┆darling, you will bury me (before i bury you) by SunshineAndRayne; cute cute cute! i loved every letter of it, yunho is so whipped and i am living for it!

ao3 ♡┆waiting for you by marspacz; i absolutely loved this one so much! my heart needed this, had me smiling the entire time i was reading! and then the shotgun scene—damn, that was hot!

[burrowdarling]

Dress

Summary: Joe begs you to join him at an event, where a dress leads to a confession of feelings. Based off of the song "Dress" by Taylor Swift

Pairings: Joe Burrow x best friend to lover!reader

Warnings: implied smut, pining, best friends to lovers

Note: Hi! I hope you're all doing okay, I know this week has been tough and long. I hope this can bring some kind of joy during a hard time. This is my first time writing based off of a song. I would love to turn this into some kind of mini series or maybe interconnected standalones. Let me know your thoughts or song suggestions, I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9K

Check out my Masterlist here!

“Pleaseeee come with me, you owe me a favor, remember? It’ll be fun I promise”. Joe begged from his spot on the couch.

Joe had invited you out to one of the team dinner gatherings as his date, insisting that you had to come with him or he would be “too bored to function”. You tried not to place too much weight on the “date” part of the deal, knowing it would be more as friends than anything. He was putting on the whole theatrics, pouting with puppy dog eyes.

“You want me to come to the dinner that you’ve been complaining will be ‘so boring’ so I have to suffer too? I don’t hardly see how that’s comparable to the favor you did for me by taking out my recycling for me that you offered to do” you questioned, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he’s been making it out to be.

“Hey, in my defense it was a lot of boxes to carry okay? You can be my source of entertainment, I won’t be able to survive without that” he explained, falling more into the dramatics as he dropped down onto the couch behind him to really solidify his point, exhaling a big sigh as he did so. 

“I hardly doubt that Joseph, you’re being so dramatic” you said with your arms folded over your chest, not going to fold to his pleading that easy. Turning away from him as you sat across from him.

“I guess you won’t know unless you come with me then, huh” Joe said with a small pout on his lips, knowing it was the surefire way to win you over. In reality, he didn't have to even try. While Joe was your best friend, you’ve had feelings for him for a while now that have only grown with time the closer you two have gotten. Meeting back at LSU, you had so many memories together that have only made your friendship what it is today.

“C’mon, what else will it take for you to agree to go? I’ll do anything Y/N.”

Your heart rate picked up at his comment, needing to will yourself back to reality that there are so many other mundane things he could do to sweeten the deal for you. Thank god you had your back turned, able to give yourself a second to breathe. In all honesty, you would go just to spend more time with him, it was always fun to make him work for it though.

“Fine, but I won’t have anything to wear so you’re fronting my cost for a new dress” you stated turning yourself back towards him, sticking out your hand to signify the offer.

“You could’ve just asked that from the beginning. Deal” Joe agreed, returning your gesture and shaking on the deal.

_______________________________________________

It was finally the day of the dinner, taking the day to get yourself ready with an everything shower and full skincare routine. You made a day of it, pampering yourself after you had gone out to get the perfect dress. It complimented the color of Joe’s suit perfectly, while accentuating all of your favorite parts of yourself. It wasn’t anything too elaborate, but it made you feel confident and that’s what matters. You may or may not have also thought about Joe when picking it out, what he would think about when he saw you in it. You quickly shook the resurfacing thoughts from your mind as you slipped it on, careful not to mess up your look.

While you were applying the finishing touches to your look, your mind wandered to thoughts about yours and Joe’s friendship. You had met during one of his first classes when he transferred to LSU, asking you for directions to his next class. It happened that you were going the same way, offering to show him and the rest was history. On paper, you both were opposites, but that’s almost why you complimented each other so well. You matched one another's energy and could read the other like a book. It almost felt as if you didn't need to speak the thought out loud at times, able to tell what the other was thinking.

You and Joe had been there for each other all throughout college, being a support system and lifeline in the hard times as well as the biggest cheerleader for the highest highs. Through every breakup, Joe was always there to pick up the pieces he didn’t break, comforting you while giving you the praise he felt you deserved. Another thing you wrote off as him just being your best friend. No one wanted to see their best friend sad, so it was natural to want to cheer them up, right?

You were drawn out of your thoughts to the sound of your front door closing, signaling Joe had arrived.

“Hey Y/N, you ready to go?” he called from your living room, making his way through your apartment.

“Just a minute, I’m finishing up and we can head out” you called back, hearing his footsteps get closer as you spoke.

There was a sudden pause as the sound of Joe approaching got closer, turning to see him stopped in your doorway. He leaned his body up against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You look absolutely amazing, I love that we have a matching thing going on” Joe said as he looked you up and down, his gaze taking you in.

 It all felt like too much, turning your attention back to the mirror in front of you.

When you were leaving your apartment to get into his car, Joe placed a gentle hand around your waist to keep you steady in your heels as you walked across the pavement parking lot. Your skin felt like it was ablaze under his touch, finding yourself craving more of it as his hand dropped to get the door for you.

“Thanks” you mumbled, trying to regain your composure back as the night was just beginning.

_______________________________________________

The night drew on, Joe not letting you far out of his reach as he spoke with his teammates and other guests that were there. It felt as if you had a pull to one another, a sense of palpable tension between you in the air. Joe seemed to be a lot touchier than usual, tending to keep you close when one of his teammates would get a bit too close for what must have been his liking. It all felt like too good to be true, that he must have really wanted you near him

There was only what you could describe as a Joe shaped indentation in your life, making any man incomparable to the standard he set for you without even knowing. So many guys in the past few years have tried to take their shot with you, but you never let any of them get too feeling like they were missing something that you were looking for. Even the ones that did ended up breaking your heart, leaving you feeling a deeper hollow pit than before them. 

He was so close to you at the table, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of his body that was clad so nicely in his suit, his arm slung protectively over the back of your chair as if he was staking his claim over you. It was taking so much willpower to not just lean over and say the most unspeakable things to him. To finally confess everything you’ve been feeling, wondering if he felt the same or if it would be a waste of time and ruin everything you created together.

In this moment, it felt like just the two were the only ones despite the room being so crowded with other guests. You leaned over, placing a delicate hand on Joe's thigh to test his reaction. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, close enough to hear his breath hitch in his throat. All signs were pointing in the right direction.

“Y/N” Joe said, his voice labored and breathy.

The way he says your name, stopping you in your tracks, short circuiting your mind for a moment. That was the kind of power he had over you, the ability to completely send your senses into overdrive without even realizing he was doing so. You tried your best to shut your mind off, taking the opportunity to tell him while you had the courage to do so.

“I don’t want you like a best friend” you spoke, voice keeping composure while trying to keep yourself from backing out.

Joe’s eyes closed as his head subtly dropped back against his chair. A quiet groan coming from his throat online loud enough for your ears only.

You leaned closer to his ear, keeping your body language as natural as possible with everything you’re feeling. Noticing how he was reacting to your words and proximity.

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off” your confidence shifting with a hint of seduction in your voice, sealing your fate to ending your friendship or starting a new chapter.

That seemed like the last straw for his own composure, not being able to contain his own building desire. Joe turned to look towards you, his gaze darkening from your confession, your grip tightening on his thigh as he tried to process the moment.

Without speaking, Joe stood from the table of his teammates and began gathering his things as he silently gestured for you to do the same. 

“I think we’re gonna get going guys, Y/N isn’t feeling too well so I’m gonna bring her home” Joe said casually, holding out a hand for you to take.

Everyone said their goodbyes and wished you well. The minute you were out of the vicinity from everyone, Joe heaved you over his shoulder and began to hustle towards the car.

“JOE” you yelped followed by a light chuckle, caught off guard by his actions.

He didn’t reply until he got you to the car, dropping you carefully to your feet and pressed your back against the car door.

He leaned close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine as he spoke “you have no idea how long I've wanted you. First, I'm gonna get you home and we're gonna get you out of this dress so I can do all of the things I’ve only ever dreamt of doing to you. Then we can talk about where we want to go from here, but I sure as shit don’t want to go back to just being friends. Does that work for you, sweetheart?” 

You didn’t trust your voice in that moment, not knowing if words would come out if you tried and opted for a firm nod.

He backed away from the car, bringing you towards him so he could open the door for you.

“Get in mamas and buckle up, because once we get home, you’re in for a ride” closing the door before you could give him a response.

You were about to be in for a night you didn’t expect, but one that would change everything for the best.

Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!

[eevees-hobbies]

Nasty Girl (Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji) - NSFW

Author’s Note: I was sitting in traffic, and Lick or Sum by GloRilla started playing, and I thought, “this would make Kaji blush if it blasted through his headphones.” Anyway, GloRilla and Tinashe songs are referenced below, but you don’t have to know those songs to enjoy the story 🙂

Synopsis: New Fear has been Unlocked: not disconnecting your music from your boyfriend's headphones. Now, he just has to match your freak. 

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji. Sensory Deprivation (hearing), lyrics are explicit, Kaji imagines you giving him a lap dance, mention of Kaji smelling your sex, cunnilingus, p in v, dom behavior, dirty talk, use of the words slut and brat, ass smacking, talk of worshipping that ass, and technically a cumshot/creampie combo. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact. 

Word Count: 2.4K

Divider by @strangergraphics. Story banner by me.

If you and Kaji could add music sharing to the official list of love languages, it would be underlined, bolded, and highlighted as it serves as an integral part of your relationship.

You appreciate Kaji’s favorite genres. Some of your dates with him include attending concerts—hard-hitting drums and thunderous electric rifts from bands like Metallica, Slipknot, and Megadeth make up some of your fondest memories with him.

Kaji enjoys listening to you express your musical taste, too. You are most certainly not a monolith; your taste in music varies, drifting through the ebbs and flows of enjoying different beats and sounds as you float between different genres depending on your mood.

While some of the songs you like may not resonate with him personally, he’ll always nod along as you gush about your favorite artists. He adores how your face lights up, whether you’re talking about rock, metal, hip-hop, or everything else in between. So when you apologize because you’re "talking his ear off," he’ll shake his head and encourage you to keep going. “Please tell me more about Megan Thee Stallion’s new album.”

Not only do you two exchange opinions on music, but it also isn’t unusual for you to borrow his headphones to listen to your playlist. 

One day, you were preparing to make dinner, so you reached for your cell phone to put on some motivational tunes to get you through the monotony of dicing vegetables.

As you pushed play on your phone, you tilted your head to the side. You didn’t hear lyrical prose coming from the speakers. Instead, you heard the distinct sound of deafening silence. You pushed the play button again, considering that maybe you hadn’t pressed the correct area on the screen.

Still, nothing. 

As you pick up your device to investigate whether the volume is on, Kaji, seated on the couch in the other room, scrunches his nose. 

The music from the band In Flames suddenly stopped and was replaced by what he assumed to be something you were attempting to listen to. 

His eyebrows furrow as he genuinely listens to the lyrics.

Lick on my clit, make this pussy cream. Do this motherfucker how you do them Russian creams.

Yeah, there’s no doubt that this is from your playlist, and it was certainly…graphic. 

Kaji rises from the couch and approaches the kitchen doorway, pausing under the doorframe to admire you. His eyes wander over your shape, your ass jutting out a bit as you lean your elbows on the counter. 

The lyrics are still drilling into his ear, raunchier and more explicit than the first few lines he heard, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d be willing to sing these lyrics to him. He imagines your pretty lips mouthing filthy shit into his ear. 

His cock twitches, thinking about you dancing to the song, flirting your hips and ass in his lap as you tease him, letting his hands explore your body as you dip low and bend over, letting him see the way your ass eats up the fabric of shorts. Before he knows it, he’s rock hard, the outline of his dick protruding through his black skinny jeans. 

You still haven’t identified the problem, and right as you consider force-closing the application, you feel Kaji press his body against your back. You jump a little at his sudden presence and open your mouth to tell him to give you a warning next time, but before you can, he places one shell of the headphones over your ear, leaving the one closest to his mouth uncovered.

“Interesting taste you have. What did she say? ‘All over his breath like pussy flavored gum’”

Well, damn, then.

Your knees suddenly feel as though they may not be able to keep you upright, trembling and unstable, as if you’re a new babe learning how to walk again. You feel the warmth of his breath, sweet and cherry-flavored, on the back of your neck. 

Your boyfriend never talks like this. Kaji isn’t vanilla by any means, but he definitely doesn’t say things like GloRilla does in her song. 

You laugh nervously. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how hard he’s pressing your body into the edge of the counter.

“I didn’t realize that I hadn’t disconnected Bluetooth.” 

“No, looks like you didn’t.”

Kaji reaches up and places the other headphone shell over your ear—music drowns out any of the sounds in the kitchen, like the ticking of the clock on the wall or Kaji’s breathing in your ear. Instead, it’s replaced with the beginning of Tinashe’s Nasty.

I've been a nasty girl, nasty.

As she asks if anyone’s going to match her freak, you can feel Kaji’s hands tracing down your body, squeezing your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress, fingers lingering over your nipples despite the presence of your bra. He knows your body so well that he can locate them simply from memory. 

As he glides his hands down your stomach, you prepare for him to touch you where you need him the most. The drooling, twitching mess that she is needs him.

But Kaji’s hands move behind you instead of touching you where you ache. You let out an audible whine that earns you an unseen smirk. Yeah, he knows what you think you need, but he knows better. 

Need somebody with a good technique Is somebody gonna match my nasty?

He crouches down, hands lifting your dress; you don’t need a verbal command to know to kick up your feet so he can pull your panties down and toss them to the side. 

If you keep up with me I'll keep on comin' back

With his strong hands placed firmly on your ass, his fingers grip and fondle the plush flesh, earning a strangled moan from your throat. You wiggle your ass in an attempt to get him to stop toying with you and touch you. But all you earn is a searing smack to your ass cheek and Kaji’s eyes appreciating the way you jiggle for him. 

If you do it too good I'm gonna get attached

You yelp, your skin feeling a brief sting from his palm. You pout, but honestly, you only have yourself to blame, and you should absolutely know better. Kaji prefers it when you behave yourself, but when you are fervent about acting up? Fine, either a firm smack to your ass or clit, or a hand wrapped around your throat is quick to put you in your place. 

But he’s not cruel. Punishments are his last resort, and as he presses his lips to the tender spot where he smacked your ass, offering you a gentle peace treaty, you’re reminded of that. 

You once again jerk from his touch, feeling like something is pricking at your ass, but the kitchen counter and the way he’s keeping you held against it leave you with limited escape routes. 

Kaji licks the indentations his teeth made on your cheek, a low growl erupting from his throat.

Fuck, he wouldn’t call himself an ass worshipper, but he’d be willing to drop to his knees and press his forehead against the filthy ground on the street to pay homage to yours. 

Cause it feels like heaven when it hurts so bad Baby, put it on me I like it just like that

“Kaji, that hurt!”

The benefit of you being unable to hear is that Kaji doesn’t have to answer you. If he did, you’d probably hate the answer. A monotone “Good” from him would probably warrant an attitude from you. And he doesn’t want attitude—at least not at this moment—he just wants a well-intentioned taste. 

You gasp as he presses his face into your sex, nose nudging against your folds, inhaling all of you. His mouth is watering as his tongue licks up and down your already wet slit, your slick sticking to your folds in the way fresh honey sticks to a honeycomb. His fingers spread your cunt open, eyeing the way you already dribble like a slut for him.

Your eyes roll back as he delivers a peck to your pussy, then a longer kiss until his mouth forms in an opened-mouth make-out session with her, not being liberal with the use of his tongue. You begin to press yourself back onto his mouth, daring his tongue to be even deeper. And Kaji doesn’t fight you; you give a silent thanks that he’s allowing you to fuck his tongue. 

He brings his hand between your thighs, allowing the palm of his hand to rub against your clit as you bounce back on his face.

“You’re so messy,” he growls into your cunt as your slick drips down his chin and drenches his palm. And it’s the god-honest truth; your cunt is dripping, hot, wet, thick, and languid, coating his tongue and throat with your essence. You’re his favorite indulgence. When he has a sweet tooth, he doesn’t think of or crave candy; he thinks of you. 

As your cum cascades into his mouth, his tongue cleans up every inch of you, tongue sliding between your folds, over your clit, your clitoral hood, and even your inner thighs. By the time he considers it a job well done, you’re glistening in his saliva more so than your cum. 

Wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, he rises again to take his place pressed against your back.

“K-Kaji,” your moan is desperate as you press your ass against his crotch. “Need you so bad, baby!”

Kaji can’t help but keep his eyes on you as your head falls back to rest on his shoulder. You don’t realize how loud you’re being with the music playing in your ears, but he desperately hopes the neighbors can hear every single thing you yell. 

Each gasp and moan leaving your lips has him throbbing, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes travel down to your neck, watching you swallow so thickly, eyes pooling with desperation and pleading to have him, him, him.

He hikes one of your legs onto the counter, forcing you to knock over some of the produce you were planning to use for dinner. 

He’s not very patient, even in moments where he wants to savor you; he’s his own worst enemy and too eager to feel you around him. He’s already stretching your cunt apart with the head of his dick, and you lean over to give him a better angle. 

Kaji, ever the appreciative one, bottoms out immediately, stretching your hole to the thickest part of him.  

With each jerk of his hips, the headphones shift until they clatter onto the counter in front of you. The sounds you were unable to hear before overwhelm your senses immediately. You catch the end of Kaji sputtering your name so loudly that you’re surprised you didn’t hear him over the music.

“Fuck, why are you so messy?” He rasps out, breath shakey and labored not from exertion but from simply being so consumed by his desire for you he can’t help but suck in too much oxygen. 

“M-maybe it’s the way you just slobbered on my pussy?”

“Oh, god. There’s that fucking mouth. Headphones must be off.” You earn another smack to your ass and the quickening of his ruts into your sopping cunt. “Like you better when you’re too busy moaning like a slut to be a brat.”

You practically mewl in appreciation of being called a slut and a brat in the same sentence.

“Yeah, look at ya squeezing me tight, brat. Jerkin’ me off with your needy pussy.”

You bury your face into the crook of your elbow, moaning and face heating up because he’s fucking right; your pussy is wringing him, hoping to coax every last drop of his cum out of his balls.

Kaji hisses. Without warning, your cunt clamps down onto him, halting his rutting, “Fuck, pretty girl. Already?”

You whine because, really, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He should be praising you for holding on this long.

As your clenching stops, he has a bit more clearance to continue his thrusts, bottoming out into your tight, orgasming sex. The wet, squelching sound your pussy makes as Kaji hilts you are loud,  filthy, lewd, practically sounding of nothing but sin. He can’t help but think, “like those songs she likes,” as he whimpers at the thought.

“Fuck, well, I’m glad you’re feeling good. Gonna let me cum now?” He’s teasing you because, of course, he can cum. You aren’t stopping him—the more the fucking merrier. You try to utter precisely that, but he juts his hips sharply, knowing you were going to say something with that smart-ass mouth of yours, the tip of his dick drilling against your g-spot.

Your nails scrape against the counter, trying to grip and claw at something. “K-kaji, I’m…!”

You bite your lip, that all-too-familiar tightening overtaking you until it bursts, and another orgasm rips through you. 

Kaji groans and pulls out with urgency because there’s something he has to do. Call it a compulsion or whatever label you want to assign to it, but it’s something he’s compelled to do to you when the urge to cum inside doesn’t sway him.

He spreads your labia with his thumb, butterflying your pretty pussy for him. He’s giving himself solid pumps with his free hand, eyes never leaving your ass, loving the way it looks sticking out like this for him. He gasps, his moan raspy but so deliciously loud. “Fuck, fuck, fuck here it c-comes!”

His cum shoots out, splattering all over your waiting hole until it’s so covered by his thick, white seed that he can’t see your opening anymore. And the final part of the ritual? Smearing it all over your folds, the fleshy pink of you, and pushing it back in with the tip of his dick for good measure.

“What even is that fetish called?” you mumble.

“I don’t have a fetish. I just like doing…this.” He can’t tear his eyes away at how pretty she looks, covered in white.

He finally places a kiss on the back of your neck, his hand reaching around your fucked out and bent over form to grasp his headphones. “Forget cooking. Let’s order in.”

And maybe after this romp in the kitchen, you both had inadvertently conditioned yourselves to use certain songs to initiate sex. His dick automatically hardening when you play songs that bring him back to the moment in the kitchen, and him placing the headphones over your ears as he fucks you to the same music that celebrates getting your back blown out.

[pretty-blkgirl]

It’s probably a stupid idea but imagine your at a Stray Kids concert, and your front row with your friends. Chan comes close to the edge on stage near you and winks to you. You think nothing of it because like he does that to everyone. But at the end of the concert he slips you a piece of paper with 1 single sentence. “After the concert, go to Hotel Grande and go to room B6.” You decide to go bc why not and you expect maybe Chan there or something but all of them are there, and they all are really horny. They always talk about wanting to date someone who knows nothing about stray kids but what if Stays are the ones who turn them on. Fem reader

Say Yes [Part One]

//fem!reader x 0t8!Skz//

Synopsis: You get slipped a note from your favorite idol to meet him at his hotel room, but he’s not the only one there

Genre: smut/suggestive, crack, fluff

Warnings: sexual situations, reader uses she/her pronouns

A/N: thank you @seoyeonleexoxo for the requestttt 🫶🏾

~~~~|~~~~

It was your first Stray Kids concert. Two straight years of saving up every spare dollar you had and camping out on Twitter for ticket sales finally paid off. Not only did you secure your tickets, but you and your friends got the front row- something you dreamed about since you started becoming a fan of Stray Kids.

You were beyond excited to see every member, but your bias -Bang Chan- was the one you were dreaming about. You know how he likes to flirt with stays, and you being in the front row meant you had a good chance at being noticed.

Hyunjin asked for stays to wear blue to the show, so you chose a solid baby blue romper that showed off every curve that you had. Your hair was out in wild, big curls and you chose simple silver jewelry.

The concert started with “Hall of Fame,” and you wasted no time in screaming your head off when the boys came into view.

The entire thing felt like a dream, and you got light-headed whenever a member got close to you. Sometime during Cheese, Chan came to your section to wave at Stays. You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt as you waved aggressively at him. He saw you and wasn’t shy about the quick once-over he gave you, then he winked before moving on to interact with other fans.

Your knees felt wobbly, and you could feel the way your friends stared at you after that interaction.

“Did he just wink at you?” Mia, the friend you’ve known since childhood asked.

“I think so,” you say, “Or maybe it was someone behind me?”

You turn around to see a good chunk of people looking right back at you. Some are envious and some curious, but all confirm the fact that Bang Chan just winked at you.

“He wants you girl” Tianna, your best friend since middle school, teases. You can’t help but roll your eyes once the boys go backstage to change. The lights in the stadium come on as you look to the screens to see the Stay games starting.

The first game has stays copy the boys' poses, you and your friends laugh as flustered fans appear on screen. Soon enough, the next game starts, a game where stays must do the choreography to random Skz songs.

This is the part of the concert you weren’t looking forward to, so you duck your head and try to stay clear of any cameramen. Some people scream and wave their arms to be put on screen, and you can only hope they get picked as the laughing staff goes to pick out people.

After three people dance to Gods Menu, Maniac, and Thunderous, you start to relax and enjoy the game. The last song, S-Class, comes up and you and your friends dance along to the practice video shown. After they show the video, you find yourself on screen smiling before pure terror graces your face.

You can’t even hear what the members are saying to you before your friends urge you to dance.

Did you do the choreography correctly? No. Were your friends dying laughing the entire time? Yes.

“Good job” You hear Han’s unmistakable voice say, “You’re so cool”

“And pretty” Felix’s deep voice continues before your face is replaced with the regular Skz logo

“Oooooh” Tianna teases, “You’re cool AND pretty? I’m jealous”

“You got three members fighting over you” Mia exclaims

“Hush” You stress, feeling glares on you, “It’s just fan service”

Tianna rolls her eyes, “Usually fan service involves all the fans”

The lights in the place dim, signaling the group is about to come back on stage. The glares you feel cease as the people around you start to scream their heads off

“Not all the time” you manage to say before the show continues.

In all honesty, you had a great time at the concert. The boys came over to your section a lot, especially Chan.

You didn’t want to believe he was making eye contact with you, and only you. However, it was hard to ignore the obvious looks he kept throwing your way. After a while, you began to count the amount of times his eyes found you in the audience; 25 times.

In a room full of thousands of people, how did he manage to look at you so many times? All your most delusional fantasies came to mind, thoughts that reminded you of when you first started to become a fan.

Cute thoughts of walking down the aisle with a member, some cute dates, and even a passing thought of a family. Just niche little things that crossed your mind as you fell more and more in love with the group.

Then there were the not-too-wholesome thoughts, the ones where you’re usually crying and begging to reach your release after hours upon hours of edging. These thoughts kept you up at night and usually involved more than one member.

You suddenly felt so dirty. Thinking about your idols in such a way while they throw kisses at the fans on the stage in front of you. You barely notice the lights come on and people start to leave the venue.

“That was so good” Tianna gushed, looking at you with a playful expression on her face. You knew the walk back to your hotel would be filled with your friends only reaffirming your delusions.

“I’m jealous y/n. I’d love to have Bang Chan eye-fucking me all night long” Mia said, making your face heat up.

You three walked out of the building and joined a crowd of fans waiting for the boys’ cars to leave the stadium.

“What if Chan comes out of the car and confesses his love for you?” Tianna teases

Mia giggles hysterically as the two continue with their joking, not paying attention as you’re flagged down by what looks to be a security guard.

“Is he asking me to come over there?” You ask your friends, making them stop and look at the staff.

“Looks like it” Tianna shrugs, “I think he was the security guard over by our section. Maybe you dropped something?”

You nod and jog over to the guard, looking back at your friends just to make sure they’re keeping an eye on you.

“Hello,” You say politely, “Can I help you?”

“You dropped this,” The guard says, handing you a mini quokka plushie that you’re only now noticing isn’t in your jacket pocket.

“Thank you so much!” You say, taking the plushie and beginning to walk off, that is until he grabs your attention again.

“I was asked to give this to you as well,” He says, handing you a rather thick envelope, “Put it in your pocket”

Before you can question it, he bows and walks off to where the other staff stands.

With your brain on autopilot, you stuff the envelope in your pocket and go back to your friends.

Mia wastes no time in asking what happened, and you tell them he gave you back your stuffed animal.

For whatever reason, you fail to mention the envelope in your pocket, and you silently celebrate when Tianna suddenly exclaims her stomach hurts and she wants to go back to the hotel.

The walk back is short, and you’re grateful that you all invested in your rooms.

The first thing you do is take out the envelope and open it. You see two folded pieces of paper.

One of them is a picture, one of the group that you’ve never seen before. It’s signed, and you instinctively look on the back and is surprised to see a message

“Go to the Hotel Grande, second floor, room B6, knock 4 times."

Already taken aback, you look at the other piece of paper to find an NDA.

“Oh my God” you whisper, quickly pulling out your phone to search the directions of the hotel. Only a 10-minute drive.

“This could be a trick,” You think out loud, “What if I get hurt?”

The rational side of you is urging you to think about the consequences of showing up to a random hotel, but the wild and unpredictable side of you quickly orders yourself an Uber and touches up your makeup.

[ventismacchiato]

stuck with you — windblume !

˗ˏˋ profiles ´ˎ˗

yn — main vocalist which makes you the most popular member. you go viral every other week for getting into petty arguments on twitter and weverse with scaramouche. should definitely learn media training because you tend to rant about him too much during lives. ‘compilations of scaramouche and yn bickering’ are super common. you’re also the only member to release a solo album which gets you guys a lot of new fans. became an idol after being a trainee for way too many years, which is why you’re salty about scara debuting so quickly when he became an idol trainee after you. [🍰]

xiao — main dancer. choreographs a lot of the dances if not all. very introverted in public but talkative in behind the scenes vlogs with his group. xiao stans have it hard because this man hardly posts anything. fans call him the dad of the group because he’s always sneaking food onto everyone’s plates and keeping them hydrated during practice. when you guys first debuted everyone thought he was mean and cold when really he’s just a quiet sweetheart. has a tattoo sleeve that the fans haven’t seen the entirety of yet, jungkook vibes in that sense. most expensive photocards after you, the one of him in cat ears and winking goes for hundreds. [🦊]

lumine — leader of the group and one of the only responsible ones. strict about keeping everyone on schedule and trying to appear presentable at music and award shows. tries to drag you all to the gym at five in the morning but to no avail. she vlogs her gym routine and whatever member she dragged that morning is usually seen in the back sitting on a yoga ball the entire time, talking as she runs miles on the treadmill. always setting trends for workout routines and makeup looks. once it touches her face it sells out. her twin is also an idol so they both do a lot of tiktoks and videos together. it siblings. [☀️]

fischl — one of the lyricists for the group. so chronically online. she’s always active at odd hours of the night and interacting with her fans. posts the most too, so fischl biases are always full with content. wears an eyepatch as part of her idol persona, and still manages to perform with it on. will do book club livestreams where she’ll talk about her current favorite book with her fans for two hours or more. lumine has to shut the live off everytime because she will just keep yapping. [🦉]

venti — writes most of the group's songs and runs production. most unserious member and should really attend a public image class because he does not know how to be a celebrity. fans are constantly finding vapes in the back of his photos and videos of him drunk at award shows. went viral once for showing up to a music show high off his mind but still managing to perform. will dye the ends of his hair different colors every comeback from his fan’s requests. loves to go live and sing covers for whatever people ask for. he does qnas and takes the tmis too seriously. [🌱]

yoimiya — visual and vocalist, will bring out her guitar during concerts a lot. the only member who will go to the gym with lumine. became an idol because she used to busk in her hometown and got picked up by your manager while she was on vacation. would be the type of idol to adore fancalls and do decorating photocards on livestreams. gets invited to a lot of variety shows and was probably a judge for a survival show at one point. [🧨]

windblume —one of the idol groups underneath sakura entertainment,  a six member mix gendered idol group known for their whimsical and indie comebacks every year. think of txt’s brand when it comes to your guys’ style of music. have been a group for about three years. members range from 21-22. their debut album Temptation got them to their popularity today. fandom name: bloomies

stuck with you !

masterlist — next

for my nonkpop fans the emojis are their assigned ones for when people post their livestream quotes, will make more sense later 😓 and weverse is basically twitter but just for idols to interact with fans

tried not to describe yn too much because i want it to be inclusive, any photos showing yn are just to depict the pose! not gender, race, or body type 🙏

spent way too long making custom instagram templates and for what help so pls look at them xx it’s so u can visualize what these 2d mfs wud look like in this au

pls lmk in the masterlist comments if i can use ur username and make you a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — it’s my exam week so all i have to give you is profiles for now </3

taglist is closed!

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @sheraeera @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @kitsuvil @iheartpieck @crystalcrys @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @crucnhice @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @scarasmood @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @lilachasawesomehair @xxrexx

[bluemari23]

darl+ing you || choi seungcheol

summary: You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better. pairing: choi seungcheol x neurodivergent reader genre: soulmate au, soul bonds, fluff, angst, idol au warnings: major angst, some light fluff, airport mayhem, angry cheol (not at mc), sneaky jeonghan ofc, word count: 2.8k new _world / part 2 of ?

masterlist

----------------------------

You truly weren’t sure how to do this. You had been alone forever and didn’t know how to adjust to suddenly having someone in your presence, wanting to be in your presence. 

You were at the airport, your flight with Seungcheol, he insisted you call him Cheol or another nickname but you weren’t too comfortable with that yet, leaving at almost 5 am this morning. So, you arrived at around 2 am, a driver coming to pick you up, ordered by HYBE. 

After packing yesterday, you realized that Seungcheol only had what he was wearing when he was transported, so you took him to the store to try and grab a couple of items for him to last until we got to Korea and he was able to get back home. He pouted almost the entire time, claiming he didn’t need anything, but you just ignored him.

Once at the airport, you had to go through customs and security, which you thought would take longer with Seungcheol not having any of his things. But you were proven wrong when the driver had handed you a soulmate passport, made specifically for those with the soul transport bond that had been transported into a different country. This meant that you had the same privilege and status as your soulmate. 

After going through customs, you and Seungcheol were led to a separate lounge, away from other people, besides a security member that had been assigned by Seungcheol’s company to stay with you until you both got to South Korea. 

“It’s okay, baby.” Seungcheol whispers into your ear, trying to ease your anxiety as he places his palm on your thigh, causing your leg to stop shaking up and down. You freeze again, so unused to any affection but he doesn’t act like he notices, instead choosing to rub his thumb against your legging covered thigh. 

You were anxious about everything right now. 

You were trying to ignore the thoughts circling in your head about being unlovable, the television program’s voice just ringing in your head. It was hard to overcome the cemented feeling of being unlovable and an outsider and then all of a sudden that idea being thrown out at the appearance of your soulmate in your bed.

You slowly relax into his touch despite your thoughts, causing a small smile to grow on his lips. He had a feeling your life was tough before he showed up, literally. He wanted to know everything about you, the way you took your coffee, if you were an artist of some type, what your favorite song was; he wanted to know anything you were willing to tell him. 

You felt the same, wishing to know who the person behind the screen was. You felt so comfortable with him already, not having the usual tense reaction to touch that you usually experienced. You felt like your body and soul had already accepted your bond, they were just waiting for your mind to join in. 

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” You let out a little breathy, wanting to take full advantage of having a bond. You’ve always dreamed of being bonded, and you weren’t gonna let anyone take it away from you. “All of this is so…new.” You threw your hands up, gesturing to everything around you.

Seungcheol turned in his seat to face you, his hand still working small circles into your thigh. He could see how much you lean into his touch; how much you crave that intimate feeling his touch could bring you. He was so happy to have a soulmate, and he was going to do everything in his power to prove to you that you were his and that he was going to treat you like a queen. 

But, before he could say anything, give any reassurance to you, his phone began to ring. He moved forward quickly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he put an arm around you and pulled you into his chest to your head rested on his shoulder. Then, pulling his phone out of his pocket, he realized it was a facetime call from Hoshi, but he knew that all of his members were probably going to be on the other end. 

With you still in his arms, he answered the facetime. There were so many faces trying to push their way into the screen, whether to see you or to hide others, Seungcheol didn’t know, but it made him grin either way. 

You remained frozen as you watched the members of Seventeen, besides your soulmate, fight over the phone. This was just another reality check for your new world, being a part, even if it’s a small part, of the idol scene. 

Eventually, they all backed away from the screen as Mingyu balanced the phone on something so they could all be in screen. You look up at Seungcheol to see if this was normal, only to see him smiling at the screen with fondness, before looking back at the phone. 

So many questions start at once, everyone having something to say to you and their leader. 

“Okay guys. One at a time.” Seungcheol finally manages out between laughter as you tense up at the loud noises coming from them. 

“Can she understand Korean?”

“Are you guys at the airport already?” 

Those were the two questions you could make out, as they all tried talking at once again. You were frozen, shy at all of the members looking at you. You almost turned your head into Seungcheol’s shoulder, trying to hide your shyness and the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Seungcheol could tell as well, squeezing your shoulder in his grasp before moving his arm to rest at your waist, holding you to his side for comfort before answering.

“She does understand some Korean, but you need to speak slowly for her to understand. She is Seungkwan and Vernon’s age. She is a carat. And we are in one of the private lounges at the airport.” Seungcheol answered the questions he heard, some shouts of excitement from the two ’98 liners being heard in the background as he answers Dino’s question. 

“It is very nice to see you, Y/n. We can’t wait to get to know you better when you get here.” Woozi spoke softly but was still heard by you as he waved to you. He spoke slowly enough for you to understand, thankfully. You were still a bit shy, but you knew you needed to be polite and respond to him, plus, you wouldn’t turn away the opportunity to speak to members from one of your favorite groups. 

“It is nice to see you all, too. I—uhm, I’m excited to get to know you all as well.” You respond in your best Korean receiving a big smile from all the boys, but the biggest grin from your soulmate who leans down and kisses you on the head, unable to help himself. 

The call is cut short from the hired security coming in to tell you both that he was ready to board the plane with you and your luggage. You only had a carry-on and a suitcase as well as your personal backpack that had your purse in it while Seungcheol had borrowed one of your duffel bags for the things you bought him and the stuff he was transported in. 

“We are about to board so we got to go, but I’ll text you when we get in the air.” Seungcheol ends the phone call after several thousand goodbyes are said.  

Once he puts his phone away, he leans down and grabs the handle for your suitcase while you put your backpack on and grab the handle to your carryon. Once he puts his duffle on his arm, he grabs your hand to hold in his and the both of you follow the security to the first class entrance. 

You felt like you were in a trance, having flown only a couple of times and being in economy every time. First Class was so extravagant looking. Everything was clean and you definitely felt out of place as you walked forward, Seungcheol leading you to your seats. As you passed by the other seats, you noticed a small blanket, eye-mask, and earbuds were placed on each seat as well as a water bottle and an empty champagne glass. The seats reclined into a bed and there was even a small side table and television in each seat pod. 

When you got to your seats, Seungcheol surprised you by placing your stuff in the overhead compartments and helping you into your seat-pod. You didn’t expect for him to do this, to take care of your things and you before himself. 

You had a feeling that your wishes for a soulmate were actually manifested in Seungcheol. Yes, you were a carat and knew he liked to take care of his members, but you weren’t a member and you were used to having to do everything yourself, always being overlooked and forced to be hyper-independent. It was such a nice thing that you almost began to tear up as he made you sit down as he opened your water bottle for you. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” He questioned you softly, leaning down to look you in the eye. You didn’t think he would notice, but he did. Which was something you were sure you would need to get used to.

“I’m not used to others taking care of me.” You whisper, answering without thinking, still too in your head over your soulmates caring actions. 

Seungcheol can’t help but to get a little angry inside, nodding his head at your words. He swears in his head to anyone listening that you will always be taken care of with him. He loves how open you are being with him though, that you feel safe enough with him to tell him to truth about your feelings. 

“I will always take care of you, my soul” He cups your cheeks softly, tilting your head downward so he could place another soft kiss on your temple, resting his lips there for a couple seconds before getting up on his feet and moving to his own seat. He doesn’t miss the blush on your cheeks though, beaming to himself that he can make you so flustered so easily. 

-*-*-

You spend the rest of your flight playing twenty questions with your soulmate, Seungcheol having managed to put the divider between your seats down so you could see each other. It was a nice time, truly, just getting to know your soulmate without the pressure of everything you knew was going to happen when you get to South Korea. 

Once you touch down, your peaceful atmosphere was unfortunately broken. Before you got off the plane, Seungcheol receives a call from his manager who was waiting outside for you, that it has been leaked what had happened the past couple days and that the airport was swarmed with fans and paparazzi, waiting for you two. 

You could see Seungcheol was upset, his jaw tense and his grip tight on your hand as he holds you still. You didn’t know what was going on, only that you had to stay on the plan for a little bit longer while HYBE security and the airport security do their thing. 

Seungcheol remained on his phone, talking fast as he tries to ensure your safety while now bringing you into his embrace, holding you like he did in your room the morning before. His chin was resting on the top of your head as your cheek rested against his chest, feeling the vibrations coming through your cheek as he talked to another person on the phone. 

You stayed on the plane for an additional twenty minutes before someone Seungcheol recognized came onto the plane and over to you. 

“We have a route out and to the car. You can leave your things here. We will grab them.” The large man spoke to Seungcheol, before looking toward you and giving you a small smile with a nod of his head. 

“Okay. Come on baby.” Seungcheol looks down at you before pulling away. He grabs your hand again without even thinking about it and begins to lead you out of the plan. He holds you closely to him, your shoulders brushing against each other as you walk out to the plane and are suddenly surrounding by maybe ten large men, formed into a circle around you. 

You keep your head down as soon as you see the lights flashing ahead of you. You can feel Seungcheol hold you even closer, cursing under his breath at the amount of people waiting for you both. Once you got into the crowd, despite being surrounded by guards, you were scared. You felt like you dissociated once the flashes started, but you were brought back by a tug on your shirt. 

Despite the number of guards near you, someone managed to get their arm through them and latched their hand onto your shirt, tugging you to the side, and in turn, tugging on Seungcheol who had a tight grip on you. It was a split second, but the damage was already done. You could hear screams but you were now moving quickly, Seungcheol beyond angry and more guards came over. 

You could feel the tears building in your eyes, falling because you were too scared to wipe them away. You were too scared to move your body in fear of being grabbed again. 

You hadn’t even realized you had gotten outside and to the car when Seungcheol had opened the door for you and helped you in first. You saw someone sitting in one of the seats from the corner of your eye, but you kept your head down, flashing lights continuous in your vision until Seungcheol got in and the door was closed behind him. 

You were frozen, trying to calm yourself down as Seungcheol moves closer, buckling your seatbelt for you and sitting as close to you as possible. 

“I am so sorry, baby. I can’t believe we got leaked!” Seungcheol pushes out the last sentence in anger. He was so mad about the entire situation and was beyond worried for you. He could tell that what happened had scared you; you hadn’t spoken to him since the plane and you were practically shaking like a leaf. 

Seungcheol was scared. He couldn’t protect you in that moment and he almost lost you to someone tugging on your shirt. He had just found you and then almost lost you in a second. It would not happen again. 

Seungcheol only pulled you closer to him, hoping his presence would be a comfort for you before he turned to the other person in the car. 

“So, how did you win the competition to be here?” His voice was tense, understandably, but you could still hear some fondness in his tone as he spoke to the other person. You still hadn’t looked up yet.

“I snuck in while everyone else was freaking out.” Jeonghan teased, hoping to get you to look up at him. He wanted to ease the discomfort and fear he knew you were probably feeling right now. They were used to this. You were not. 

Jeonghan’s words had you looking up though, eyes red and puffy from your silent crying breaking both of their hearts. Seungcheol hadn’t even realized you were crying and made himself a mental reminder to do his best to pamper you tonight. 

“Have the company found the leak?” Seungcheol asked, his hand squeezing your won tightly still, not having let go since you got into the car. You could hear the anger lacing his voice, his determination to keep you safe only doubling. 

“They have. And they’ve been fired. It seems that someone overheard a conversation about your announcement to us. Everyone has been dealt with.”  Jeonghan didn’t hold back, knowing how his leader and friend got when something went wrong. No one wanted to get in their leader’s way when something happened to one of their members. He could only imagine how amplified that would be now with you. 

“Good.” Seungcheol ended that conversation, quickly moving onto another, more light discussion when he noticed your eyes begin to glaze over. He could tell something was wrong, but he would wait until you were both alone to talk to you about it. 

You remained quiet as you listened to Jeonghan regal the tale of what happened when they realized what had happened to Seungcheol and how excited the other members were to meet you. Hoshi and DK already fighting over who would be your best friend while Joshua and Mingyu were trying to figure out what kind of welcome gift to get you.

It seemed like the members were more excited to meet you than you could have imagined.