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sailorsoons · 15 days ago

Text

Amnesia (c.sc)

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader

Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another.

Word Count: 11,920

Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers

Type: Smut, Angst if you squint

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Under the cut

A/N: This fic was posted on my original blog which has been deleted. I am now reposting it. I hope it does half as well as it did when I originally posted this story - thank you to everyone who left amazing feedback the first time. It genuinely made me so happy and I am so sorry that it got sent to the moon where I can no longer read it.

A/N 2: Thank you @yoongukie-ff for sending me your original reblog of this to pull the summary information from. I appreciate you and I love you!

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Warnings: Recreational drinking, mild jealousy from both reader and Cheol, themes of self doubt/relationship doubt, light depictions of anxiety regarding ambiguous relationships, explicit language, Cheol and reader are both idiots, explicit sexual content including oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple stim, breath play if you squint, unprotected vaginal sex, a lot of bodily fluids like spit and cum, multiple smut scenes, hair pulling, light spanking, sub-space adjacent feelings, being a lil silly goofy during sex sometimes, stupid ass nicknames at the end because I’m a millennial and I’m cringe sometimes.

DAY ONE

You’re a goner as soon as you lay eyes on him. You know it before Jeonghan properly introduces you, shouting over the rock music that is blaring in the dive bar you like to hang out at on Friday nights. The neon from the sign creates a blue silhouette around Seungcheol as he smiles and holds a hand out to you. You can barely pull yourself together to shake his hand - warm, firm - too busy staring at his face.

Choi Seungcheol is what your best friend Vin likes to call pretty motherfuckin handsome. He’s got dark, warm eyes that light up playfully when they meet yours, full lips the color of crushed rose petals, a square, firm jawline and silky dark hair that falls in his eyes when he tilts his face down to hide a smile at something Jeonghan says.

Crushed against the wall of the booth, you feel the cold glass of your beer warm against your palms as you steal glances at Seungcheol. He’s directly across from you, angling his broad shoulders to fit snug into the corner of the booth, lounging backward as he observes the argument brewing between Joshua and Jeonghan.

He even dresses well. Fitted t-shirt paired with light wash jeans and boots, a fancy watch reflecting the burning neon on the wall next to him, delicate chain necklaces tucked into the collar of his shirt.

It’s the way he wears them that speaks to you, though.

“Do they do this often?” his deep voice drags you from your reverie. You blink, gathering yourself when you realize he’s leaning forward a little, addressing you. He sips his beer before tilting the tip of the bottle toward Jeonghan and Joshua. “It’s like they're married.”

“You have no idea. Wait until game night.”

“Oh yeah. Jeonghan told me about game night.” Seungcheol’s mouth twitches in a smile. “You’ll be there?”

“Every Sunday. Do you like games?”

Something about the glint in his eye makes your stomach flip. You sip your beer just to give you something to do, feeling more drunk off the easy confidence he exudes as he shrugs. “Depends on the game. I’m competitive.”

“So am I.”

He grins. “I look forward to it, then.”

Warming up to Seungcheol is easy. He’s the new hire at Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s office, and they both felt confident enough to bring him into the fold. You can see why - he’s kind and funny, and there’s a charm to him that draws the people around him like moths to a flame. Even with just the four of you sitting in the booth, you feel the magnetism.

Friday nights at Rusty’s has been a tradition with Jeonghan and Joshua since you had been in college, filling yourself on five dollar wings, three dollar beers and occasionally lukewarm mozzarella sticks. Normally Vin, Wonwoo and Mingyu would be around, but tonight it’s just the smaller group.

Jeonghan and Joshua slide out of the booth to play darts, shoving one another back and forth, the drink in their step making them a little off balance. You smile fondly as you pluck another beer out of the bucket of ice, struggling to pop the top, your wet hands sliding against the metal cap.

Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin.

“Wow, so strong.”

He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.”

“No, no, you are. Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.”

“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.”

“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.”

“I like winning.”

You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do.

“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.”

“I’m down.”

Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back.

Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.

Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.

“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”

“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”

His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.”

“Hmm. Not convincing.”

Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.”

“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?”

“What will you give me?”

You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful.

A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more.

You already do want more.

“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment.

When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.

“I can think of something, I think.”

DAY SEVEN

“I like this,” Seungcheol says, voice rough from use. He buttons his jeans, looking over at you. You’re still half-alive on your bed, a sheen of sweat covering your body. The sheets stick to you when you roll to look at him. “Are you good with casual?”

You’re only half listening, too distracted by his flexing abs. “Hmm?”

Seungcheol looks good tonight. He looks good every night, but tonight he’s in dark jeans and a white sweater. The sweater looks soft like his hair, which has grown longer and hangs in his eyes as he looks down to slip on his shoes.

“I’m not really looking for a relationship at the moment but this,” he answers, flicking his fingers between the two of you. “It’s good.”

“Agreed. I’m good with casual. I’m a little too busy for anything more.”

It’s not a lie. You are too busy to really commit to someone. Again, a warning goes off in your mind like that first night you met him, screaming danger. You ignore it, not ready to give up Seungcheol just yet.

He grins, pulling his short back over his head. “Cool. If you ever don’t want to or whatever though, let me know, yeah?”

“You too.”

DAY TEN

Seungcheol [2:06 AM]: Come home with me You [2:06 AM]: Everyone would notice Seungcheol [2:07 AM]: Tell them where you’re going who caaaares Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Unless you don’t want to tell them then that’s ok Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: I personally don’t care if they know I’m rearranging your guts most nights :) You [2:10 AM]: CHEOL You [2:10 AM]: Fine pls hold my hand while I do this. They’re going to roast me Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Holding your hand sooo tight Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: But from like over here tho You [2:19 AM]: That was so embarrassing. Where did you go Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: She’s so brave, she’s well behaved Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: Standing outside hurry it's cold as dick out here

Seungcheol [4:38 AM]: Don’t forget to text me when you make it home You [4:52 AM]: Home safe!

DAY TWENTY THREE

You [11:10 PM]: Wyd Seungcheol [11:34 PM]: Need it that bad? You [11:39 PM]: Wow goodnight!!!!! Seungcheol [11:39 PM]: Nah come back Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: COME BACK Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: Omw. Unlock the door You [11:45 PM]: Need it that bad? Seungcheol [11:45 PM]: Yes actually :)

DAY THIRTY

You slide your finger across the phone, curious as you pick up Seungcheol’s phone call. “Hello?”

“Are you hungry?”

You look at your watch. It’s almost one in the afternoon, your stomach growling as it realizes that yeah you are kind of hungry. “Actually yeah. Why?”

“I had to run errands and I’m by your place and starving. Wanna get lunch?”

Your lips twitch in a smile. Leaning against the counter, you press the phone against you a little closer. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“Do you like Greek?” You hum in assent, chewing on your fingernail nervously. You can hear him get into his car, pausing momentarily as he starts it and curses at how hot it is. You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, pick you up in ten?”

“Alright.”

DAY FORTY THREE

He’s not yours. You tell yourself that over and over again as you try not to look across the bar where Seungcheol is sitting for the nth time. You’d noticed him immediately when you and Vin walked in, clocking his wide frame and familiar laugh with a precision that makes you curse yourself.

Now, Seungcheol is leaning against a high top, talking to a pretty girl sitting on a stool next to him. He’d waved at you earlier and shot you a smile and a wink, but he’s with friends you’re unfamiliar with tonight, and hasn’t come over.

Not that you expect him to. He isn’t yours and the casual thing you’ve got going means he can do whatever he wants, no strings attached.

So why is your heart in your throat as you glance over to see the girl laughing at something he’s said? They’re not alone but somehow that isn’t comforting at all. You pick at the varnish on the table to distract yourself, suddenly interested in the splinters and not the man across the bar from you.

Finishing the rest of your beer, you pull out another, hoping that the hoppy taste erases the icky feeling that settles on your skin. You’re not participating in conversation much, but if your friends notice, they have the decency not to call you out.

At least Vin knows what’s up, checking on you every once in a while. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything, occasionally giving you a squeeze instead. She knows the deal, understanding the irrationality between wanting to control something that isn’t yours to control.

Halfway through your beer, your phone vibrates. You flip it over and your heart starts pounding when you see Seungcheol’s name come across the screen, a message waiting to be read. With a shaky hand, you slide your thumb across the screen to unlock it, the message popping up.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: Wanna come back to mine?

Surprised, you look up from your phone to where he’s still at the high top. His phone is in his hands and he’s looking right at you, flashing a grin when you meet his eyes. The girl is still sitting next to him, but his attention is entirely on you now, pinning you to the spot.

Your phone vibrates again and you glance down, your phone’s brightness stark in the gloom of the bar.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: You’re cute when you’re surprised You [12:14 AM]: What, the girl you were talking to said no? Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: I didn’t ask her. I asked you Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: Omg wait are you jealous?? You [12:14 AM]: No You [12:14 AM]: Definitely not Seungcheol [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me is Hades for a liar or whatever You [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another, loser Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Same thing Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: But seriously, I have no interest in her. I’m asking YOU Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Will beg from my knees in this bar Seungcheol [12:19 AM]: Even tho the floor is kind of gross You [12:20 AM]: I mean, if you’re offering to get on your knees…

You’re not sure if you trust his answer about not being interested in the other girl, but it doesn’t matter. You still end up leaning against him in an Uber, his hand squeezing your thigh playfully as he leans his forehead on the window, eyes closed to enjoy the cool glass.

He is so handsome, face glowing red as the car stops at a stoplight. You examine him closely, eyes dragging from the soft curve of his mouth to his impossibly silk lashes. You’d told him once that most girls would kill for those lashes, and now he likes to bat them at you every time he wants something.

The car starts moving and you look away from him, taking in a deep breath. Seungcheol isn’t yours, but you’re starting to think you want him to be.

DAY FIFTY TWO

“Is it weird if I bring a bag of shit to stay?” Seungcheol’s voice is shy over the receiver. You grip your phone tighter, biting your bottom lip to hide your smile as you roll onto your side in bed, snuggling into the pillow more. It smells like him, bergamot and cedarwood. “You can tell me if that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all,” you say carefully, too nervous to scare him off. “You usually end up sleeping here anyway.”

Usually really means always. He’s been doing that more recently, crashing at your apartment after coming over and vice versa. You’ve gone from Uber rides home at dawn to waking up curled into his back. He’s the first person you’ve ever let loiter in your space as much as he has, but you try not to think about it too much, as though just the acknowledgement might spook him.

Whatever thing between you feels fragile, a rare, glass menagerie set that can shatter if handled wrong. Friends with benefits is what you call it, but you’re not quite sure if that’s what it is.

“Okay cool. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go back to my place and shower sucks.”

“I do have a shower.”

“Oh I’m aware. It’s one of my favorite places in your apartment.”

Your stomach flutters and you clench your thighs together. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize it’s getting late. “Better hurry,” you murmur. “I might be too tired for a shower when you get here.”

His chuckle is deep. Throaty. “I’ll speed, then.”

After hanging up, you toss your phone to the end of your bed and stare at the ceiling. Outside, the city hums beyond the window of your apartment. The lights in your home are mostly turned off, a single lamp providing low light in the living room so Seungcheol can see when he comes in, and a flickering candle on your nightstand and in the bathroom.

Your bed is warm and you do feel sleepy, but the excitement of seeing Seungcheol keeps you awake well enough. You try not to think of that too much, either. He was just there a few nights prior, and already he’s on his way back. Like it’s common. Routine.

And it sort of is, you guess. You hangout with Seungcheol almost more than you see Vin and Jeonghan these days, and you’re almost always spending the night together. You know his favorite late night snacks, you know the type of coffee he likes to make in the morning before work, and you know about his family, his stresses at work. What makes him tick.

It’s more than you ever thought you’d know about him when you agreed to keep your sex life with him casual and at a distance. He is anything but at a distance.

Seungcheol must speed, because it feels like hardly any time has passed when you hear your apartment door open and shut, the sound of the deadbolt clicking. You lift yourself up to lean on your elbows, watching from your bed as he enters your line of vision, a backpack over one shoulder.

He’s dressed in a long t-shirt and sweats, cozy and warm and still unbelievably good looking. He grins when he sees you, eyes creasing at the corners as he enters your room and drops his bag by your door.

Without saying anything, Seungcheol crawls onto your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he inches up over you. Falling backward onto the mattress, you let him loom over you. Heat radiates from his body, warming you up. Your heart thuds as he ducks down, his hands bracketing your head as he cages you in. He brushes his nose against yours and you feel sparks, trying to regulate your breathing.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back, reaching your hands up to rest on his hips. He reacts, pressing his waist into yours a little, making you bear his weight. “Ugh, heavy.”

“Too bad.”

Seungcheol’s teeth nip your jaw, making your hips twitch upward. You can feel the smirk against your skin as he presses a wet kiss under your ear, moving his way to your neck.

“I was promised a shower.”

“Maybe I’m too tired,” You murmur.

He hums, leaning more of his weight into you. It’s comforting, not crushing, and you can feel the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest, in tune with yours. You smell bergamot and cedarwood, making your thoughts dizzy and scattered while he whispers, “I’ll wash your hair.”

“Hmmm. I’m listening.”

He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point, tongue laving against your skin. Your fingers twist in his shirt, your muscles tensing as you fight off a shiver. You can hear his soft breath, the way the sheets shift under the two of you, the way your heart hammers.

“I’ll massage your shoulders…”

“Hmm.”

His teeth scrape against your throat and you sigh, arching up into him, eyes closed. “I’ll eat you out.”

Fuck. You’re putty in his hands. Seungcheol could get you to do anything he asked. You don’t know if he knows - you’re too afraid to show him, to let him in on the secret out of fear of what it would mean to him. If it was too much, too deep.

But like this, it’s hard not to hide it. Especially when his filthy mouth hits a weak point in you, turning you thoughtless as you nod your head in response, nails digging into his hip bones through the fabric of his shirt. He makes a noise in response, leaning up off of you reluctantly but pulling you with him.

Dropping his hands, you head to the bathroom, feeling uneven. Seungcheol whines and grabs you to pull you back toward him. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“You haven’t even given me a kiss,” he pouts, looking down at you through long, dark lashes. “I want a kiss.”

This is the problem with Seungcheol. He says things like this when you’re supposed to be casual, something easy and without feelings and without strings. But this feels like something, it feels like there's a thread connecting you, tugging your mouth to his because of course you indulge him.

You always do.

Seungcheol’s lips are soft and taste faintly of his cherry chapstick. You smile into the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to press closer to him. He kisses you back eagerly, slotting his lips against yours and humming with delight. When you pull away, he’s smug, grinning happily.

“Come on,” he urges, now leading the charge as he pulls you by the hand toward your bathroom.

Instead of turning on the light, Seungcheol uses the glow of the burning candle on the counter to navigate. He drops your hand to open up the cabinets and pulls out two towels as you trail to the shower, opening the glass door to lean in and turn it on.

Steam starts to fill the room as you close the shower door and turn to him. He sets the towels on the counter, not bothering to shut the door to the bedroom. Instead, he grips the bottom of his shirt and peels it upward and over his head, revealing all toned muscle and tan skin.

He momentarily distracts you. Seungcheol is a work of art, equal parts rippling muscle and soft skin. You slide your shorts down, distracted by the way he looks in the golden shroud of the candle light, sliding his sweatpants down his legs.

Sensing your eyes, he lifts his head as he kicks off his sweats, briefs slung low on his hips. “Admiring me?”

“Shut up.”

Looking away, you take off your shirt, feeling the heat flush from your cheeks down to your neck. He chuckles, peeling off his briefs before kicking them toward the sink and striding toward the shower. He stops to kiss you on the cheek as he pulls open the door.

“I don’t mind,” he teases. “I like it.”

It’s true. Seungcheol has always had the easy confidence of someone who is comfortable in their skin. You admire that about him - and envy him a little. Seungcheol never seems to worry what others think of him, nor does he seem embarrassed or concerned about making the wrong move. Saying the wrong thing.

Steam hits you full on as you step into the shower. Seungcheol is already standing under the spray of water, his back turned toward you. For a moment you admire him again, watching the way the water sluices down his broad back and narrow waist.

Your eyes drift to the tattoo at his neck, the branches of the tree stretching toward his shoulders. You’ve traced that tree with the tips of your fingers and tongue over and over again, fascinated about the way the ink flexes when he moves.

A chill catches you, making you shiver and step toward the heat of the water. He senses your approach, turning his head to the side to look at you over his shoulder. He grins, reaching a hand back toward you to pull you close. You lace your fingers, letting him pull you into him as he turns.

Hot water hits your skin, immediately soothing. You sigh, leaning into the firmness of him, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around you. He catches your mouth again, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you slowly, tongue lazy as he licks into your mouth.

Seungcheol’s hands spread across your back, fingers digging in a little as he starts to explore, one hand surging up and the other down. You moan into his mouth as the hand that drifts down grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing a little. His mouth curves into the kiss and you feel his teeth pull at your bottom lip, something he knows you love.

As always, you’re a goner. You don’t stand a chance with him. Not that first night and not now when he kisses you like something more. Not when he slides his hand around to your front, pressed between your bodies to run his fingers up the wet folds of your pussy.

He groans into the kiss that has turned sloppy, hungry. “Fucking wet.”

“We’re in the shower.”

He growls and pulls his mouth from you to attach to your neck, biting and sucking harshly. You let out a breathy sound, head tilting back heavily as you feel his tongue lick the water from your skin. “Don’t take away my credit.”

“The only crime is pride.”

The pads of his fingers press into your clit, making your knees knock together and the breath leave your lungs. He smiles against your neck, humming. “Which classic are you quoting at me today?”

“Antigone by Sophocles.”

“What’s that one about?”

Finding words is nearly impossible. The heat of the shower has you flushed and distracted, the steam making it harder to breathe, thoughts sticky as Seungcheol continues to tease you, fingers dragging down to your clenching entrance to press his fingers in slightly before dragging them back up.

Your nails bite into the back of his neck, clinging to him for life as he holds you up, one arm looped around your back to press you to him while the other makes all your thoughts scattered.

“Come on,” he urges gently, bringing his face to yours. He brushes his nose against yours, nudging. “Tell me.”

“She was a tragic character in a play written by Sophocles,” you sigh. “She was the daughter of Oedipus.”

“The guy who fucked his mom?”

Your laughter bubbles out of you. He laughs too, his hold tightening. “Yeah, Cheol. The guy who fucked his mom.”

“Craaazy family.”

“Do you really want to talk about Greek tragedy incest right now?”

“Nope,” he says happily. “I do want to eat this pussy though.”

Seungcheol flips gears so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. He swings you toward the glass wall of the shower, pressing your chest against it. You moan loudly, startled by the cool glass against your hard nipples. The contrast of hot water and the cool glass feels good, your eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol drops to his knees behind you. He gently presses the inside of your knees, urging you to spread your legs.

“Just like that,” he encourages, hands ghosting upward to squeeze your ass. He pulls your hips away from the glass and toward him, groaning as he comes face level to your cunt. “Fuck.”

Your breath fogs the glass. It’s cold when you press your palms against it, holding yourself up as Seungcheol dips forward, running the flat of his tongue down your slit. You let out a pathetic sound and he laughs, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. You melt, knees shaking and unsteady as Seungcheols tongue leisurely explores your folds, dipping into your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit.

One of your hands leaves the glass to reach back, sinking into the wet strands of his hair and holding him to you. He grunts in pleasure, the buzz of his mouth adding to the simulation as he fastens his lips to you, sucking gently.

Seungcheol’s mouth is a weapon. You fall apart under the warmth of his lips, the softness of his tongue. He sucks at your core, greedy and pleased, fingers digging into you as he presses in further. He can never get enough, the wet sounds of his hunger making your toes curl.

“Feels so good,” you pant against the glass. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans loudly, muffled by your cunt. “Your fucking mouth.”

“Mmm. Love you like this.” His tongue flicks expertly across your clit and you feel your thighs clench, legs shaking as your orgasm spools inside of you. “God this shower hurts my fucking knees though.”

“You wanted to eat me out in the shower.”

A hand cracks across your ass cheek, making you arch against the glass. He chuckles, tongue diving back, words slurred as he mutters, “And I’d do it again.”

Seungcheol’s mouth feels divine. You go quiet as he sucks at you, focused on the warmth spreading through you and the way your breath starts to stutter, limbs locking up.

When you come, you go boneless. Seungcheol holds you up, pressing you against the glass as he licks you through your orgasm. You twitch against him, nails dragging in his hair, your other hand sliding against the glass as you fight to grip anything to ground you.

Breathing raggedly, you sag when he pulls his face from you and stands. He groans and you grin, knowing his knees hurt from the tile of the shower. He doesn’t care, though. He crowds you in, cock pressed against your backside as his arms loop around you.

“Kiss me.” His voice is soft, needy.

Turning your face over your shoulder, you let him catch his mouth with yours, all tongue and cum and spit. You don’t care, pushing into him. One of his hands slides down between your legs, making you whimper into his mouth as he slides his fingers through your sticky folds to press two of them into your entrance.

Seungcheol is a giver. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve slept together or had brief, fast encounters, he always makes it a point to please you. To go out of his way to make you shake against him, like he needs it.

He keeps your mouth melded to his as his fingers fuck you slowly. You clench around his fingers, moaning his name as he presses them against the soft spot inside of you. You see stars, panting into his mouth as he strings you along, dragging you toward another orgasm.

It’s slow. Intimate. His mouth is hot and wet, sucking at biting at your bottom lip. His other hand snakes up to your throat, not applying pressure but gripping you, holding you to him. If he didn’t have you so tightly pressed to the glass, you think you’d collapse.

“You won’t fall,” he breathes into your mouth, reading your mind. “I’ve got you.”

“My knees are fucking useless right now.”

“You’re tough. Come on, I know you can give me more.”

You’ll give him anything he asks. You feel your heart slamming in your chest as he works you up again, feel the ragged breathing until you momentarily stop, everything tense and suspended as you clench around his fingers, shuddering violently as you come.

“Knew it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

A whine leaves you at the praise, head shaking back and forth a little as the oversensitivity makes you squirm. He works you through it, mouth pressed to your ear, whispering to breathe, baby as he strokes you gently until you’re leaning against him heavily.

Seungcheol removes his hand but keeps holding you up, letting you catch your breath. He peppers innocent kisses along your shoulder, lips brushing your skin tenderly. When you stand up with more strength, he pats you on the hip, gentle.

“Good?”

“Mhmm.” Craning over your shoulder, you catch his chin with your mouth, kissing softly. You press your ass into him, feeling his straining cock. “Come on.”

“Yeah?”

“All good.”

“Thank fuck. Thought I lost you.”

“I’ve had worse,” you grin, a little tired.

He kisses you, patting you approvingly before he grinds the tip of his cock between your legs. He groans deep in his chest, grip on you tightening for a moment. You reach behind you, gripping the base of his cock firmly, stroking gently before lining him up with your entrance.

Seungcheol pushes in, both of you whining in harmony at the feeling. It feels good, your pussy throbbing around him as he presses in slowly, letting you feel the stretch. He clings to you, trying to keep it together as you flutter around him.

“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than you. “Shit.”

Gently, Seungcheol starts to fuck you against the glass, strokes deep and slow. It’s mind-numbingly good, your cheek cool and pressed against the shower wall, Seungcheol’s face buried in your neck, breath puffing against your skin.

He holds you reverently, both hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you. You reach one hand behind your head, holding the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin. He hums happily, always pleased when you bite and scratch him.

That had been a surprise. You always thought he wouldn’t want you to mark him, that he wouldn’t want evidence of your time spent together. Seungcheol is the opposite though, urging you to rake your nails across soft skin, to bite at him and bruise him.

Your feet slide apart a little as he strengthens his thrusts. You squeal, hand smacking the glass to hold yourself up. He lets out a loud laugh, pausing to let you fix your stance. He taps your thigh in question and you nod, lifting your leg a little to let him slide a hand under your thigh to press it against the shower wall for better grip.

When he rolls his hips into you this time, it’s deeper, making you tremble against the glass. A groan drips from Seungcheol’s mouth as he sets his pace, pinning you between him and the glass with nothing to do but to take what he gives you.

“Can you do another?” he asks, breath shaky. His fingers squeeze your thigh for emphasis, the snap of his hips getting stronger. You nod, unable to answer verbally. He huffs, half laughter, half something else. “Yeah you can.”

And you can. Seungcheol can pull pleasure out of you like thread from a loom, his skilled hands guiding you where he wants you to go. It’s easy for him, the way he knows your body so acute and familiar that the thought alone makes you unravel a little, your whines muted by the glass.

He makes you come like that, stuck between his warmth and the cold, the two contrasts keeping you suspended as you seize up around him. He grunts at the feeling, hips sloppy, losing their rhythm until he clenches up, growling your name into your neck as he tips over the edge after you.

For a few moments, you remain melded together, panting in time. Seungcheol makes no rush of peeling himself away from you. Instead, he’s content to mouth at your shoulder and neck, running his nose along your throat. You squirm and laugh, ticklish.

Grinning, he does it again, nuzzling into you and making you laugh, sound echoing in the shower. “Seungcheol!”

“It’s cute.”

“Come on,” you urge. “You said you’d wash my hair.”

He steals a kiss. “Alright, alright. Pass me the shampoo.”

DAY FIFTY SEVEN

“Who is that?” Seungcheol asks, jerking his head toward the bar. You turn and follow his gaze to see Seokmin standing at the bar, ordering drinks. “Never seen him before.”

“Jealous?” You tease, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. Seokmin is just a coworker, but it doesn’t mean you can’t poke Seungcheol a little. Except Seungcheol doesn’t laugh, leveling you with a stare, lips turning downward. “Wait, you actually are.”

“Don’t push it. It was just a question.”

“We work together,” you clarify, immediately turning off the charm when you recognize he’s not amused. “Actually I think he sort of has a thing for Vin, which is why he’s here.”

Seungcheol hums, sipping his beer and looking away from you. Licking your lips, you reach out a hand and touch his gently, bringing his dark eyes back to you. He looks serious - more serious than you’ve ever seen him, face blank, eyes unreadable.

“I mean it.” You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. “We’re just friends.”

“Alright.”

“I feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

You shrug, struggling to articulate. He still has that expression you can’t read, something stark and closed off. “Just seems like it.”

He shakes his head again, but you don’t think he’s telling the truth, watching the way his eyes shift to watch Seokmin approach. “Just tired, I think I might head out.”

Panic grips you and you say the first thing you can think of, throwing caution to the wind. “Want to come over?”

That gives him pause. He studies you. You feel a tightness in your throat under his scrutiny. His mouth twitches and he nods. “Alright,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” You squeeze his hand again. “Really.”

DAY SEVENTY EIGHT

“Want to do me a huge favor?”

You look up from your spot on your couch. Seungcheol is in your kitchen, using his hip to close the door to the fridge. He lifts the lid on the package of grapes, plastic cracking loudly as he does. Leaning against the counter, he pops one into his mouth, crunching happily.

“Besides giving you my grapes?” you ask, deadpan. He grins around them shrugging happily as he eats another. You roll your eyes, turning back to the laptop carefully balanced on your knee. “What’s the favor?”

“We have this giant New Years Eve party at work in two weeks and I need a date.”

That gives you pause. You stare at the computer screen but you can’t make out anything on the screen. You don’t dare to turn and look at Seungcheol, fearful that the feelings his question brings out will be right on the surface of your expression.

Date. It’s a scary word. You and Seungcheol sort of go on dates all the time, but they’re not really dates. At least, not from your perspective. If you were to ask Jeonghan, he would launch into another lecture that you should just put a goddamn title on this thing. Vin happily agrees, both of them hammering you on calling the thing between you and Seuncheol what it is.

But it’s friends with benefits. Friends go out to eat meals together and go shopping together - they hangout. The benefits are the sex. It’s the pressing you against your mattress as he maps your body with his mouth, it’s the way you sink to your knees for him after he’s had a bad day at work, taking him into the heat of your mouth to make him forget.

So yes, you’ve gone places together alone and as a friend date. But somehow this feels different, and you don’t think it’s supposed to.

Carefully, you ask, “Your date, huh?”

“Mhmm. Free drinks and apps, and it’s at the top of that fancy new hotel. We can stay the night so we don’t have to pay for an expensive as fuck Uber”

Not for the first time, you find yourself unsure where the line is with Seungcheol. You’ve agreed multiple times that this is just casual, a shared benefit between friends. And yet every time you feel confident in what you are, the line blurs.

You’re as guilty as he is, you know. On more than one occasion you’re the one who has crossed the line, messing up the clear boundary the two of you have had in place for weeks. Somehow, you both manage to be utterly terrible at casual, but you’re too afraid to say something about it. Too afraid to ruin it.

“I suppose I can be convinced.”

“Oh? What can I do to convince you?”

You look up as his tone turns to velvet, that voice he uses when he’s coaxing you into his lap, or when he’s-

“It’s really hard to be sexy when there’s grape juice running down your chin, Cheol.”

He pouts, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the lower half of his face as you laugh. He’s cute, pink lips downturned and eyes round as he sulks. “Don’t make fun of me. Just say yes to being my date.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.”

His grin is burnished gold, the sun breaking for first light over the horizon. “Thank you.”

“Mhmm.” He crunches into another grape and you scowl. “Stop eating all my fucking grapes!”

DAY NINETY TWO

“Holy shit,” Seungcheol mutters when you step out of the hotel bedroom. He feels his heart start to pound in his chest from where he stands in the kitchenette, fingers squeezing the glass of whiskey he poured himself earlier. “You look unreal.”

And you do. You always do. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when Jeonghan and Joshua introduced the two of you that first night at that shitty bar you like to go to on Fridays. The real kicker had been your personality, though. Warm, kind, quick wit. A bit of a history nerd, which is his favorite thing.

Honestly, he loves a lot of things about you. He knows that he has to do something about that. Knows that this stopped being casual a long time ago. Seungcheol has no problem with casual hookups and keeping people in a rotation, but when it comes to you… he just wants you.

It’s like he has no idea how to keep his distance, how to keep his feelings out of it. He doesn’t mind, but he needs to figure out how to tell you. How to take that next step and move you from friends to more - if that’s what you want, anyway.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you say back neutrally. He can see the way your eyes linger on him though, your gaze betraying the calmness of your voice, as always.

You don’t get it, though. Seungcheol cannot keep his eyes off you, dragging them from top to bottom. The black dress is snug on your frame, his eyes tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curve of your ass and thighs.

Dragging his eyes back up, he meets your gaze. That is one of his favorite things. Your eyes, full of light and depth and thoughts that he always wants to fall into. There is so much simmering under the surface that you don’t say and he’s never asked.

He wants to.

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Seungcheol leaves the glass on the counter and walks over to you. You shift from foot to foot, eyes darting up to examine the ceiling. He smirks, feeling the nerves radiating from you as he approaches.

When he reaches out, you don’t step away from him. You let him skim his hands up your sides, going until he’s running them over your shoulders and on either side of your neck so he can cradle your face. He turns your gaze back to him and you stare up at him through your lashes.

He was a goner on day one. How ridiculous to think he’s not just made this real, told you how he doesn’t want a single thing to be casual and superficial between you.

Instead of stealing a searing kiss and pushing you back into the bedroom like he wants to, Seungcheol presses a short kiss to the corner of your mouth. He’s too afraid that if he starts something that you won’t make it downstairs.

Now isn’t the time for that, though. There’s a party upstairs and free drinks and he wants to spend time with his friends. Spend time with you.

The Seungcheol that existed before you is a stranger to him. He barely remembers what it was like to have people he wasn’t genuinely interested in, what it was like to show up alone at parties and take someone home. Hardly recalls pushing people away when they wanted too much.

All it took was meeting you.

“Come on,” he urges gently, leading you from the room and to the elevator.

Seungcheol slides his phone from his pocket in the elevator. You press close against him, your arm brushing against his as it fills up with people. He notes where Wonwoo tells him to meet and puts his phone back in his pocket, leaning into you a little.

You let him, making his mouth twitch upward. You always let him do what he wants, and when you don’t, an easy pout gets his way. He’s wrapped around your finger, too. He doesn’t know if you realize it, but he would give you anything you wanted without a moment's hesitation.

When the elevator doors open, Seungcheol takes your hand. You let him pull you into the party teeming with people, the sound of music swelling over the dull roar of the crowd. You stick closer to him, fingers squeezing him tightly as the pair of you walk toward the check-in table.

“This is beautiful,” you murmur to him.

His first instinct is to look at you because you are beautiful. You’re not looking at him, your neck craned to sweep over the party. He smiles at you, watching the glow of your side profile, eyes wide with wonder.

Dragging his eyes from your face, he glances around the party. It is gorgeous, with views of the entire city glittering beneath the building like a bed of stars, shimmering decorations reflecting the golden lights, a giant clock to show the time, and massive flower arrangements.

“It’s nice,” he agrees, shuffling to the table where he gives his name. “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Perfect, thanks.” The person working the table peels two wristbands and gestures for you both to hold out your wrists. You let go of his hand to do so, letting the attendant wrap your arm in a blue band. “Have a great night, Mr. and Mrs. Choi.”

Both of you blink in surprise. You open and close your mouth as if you’re unsure how to correct them and Seungcheol laughs, shrugging as he takes your hand and leads you out of the line and into the party proper this time.

“This way, wifey.”

You roll your eyes but grin anyway, looping your arm through his offered one and tugging him close. He’s satisfied, leading you through the tight crowd of people toward the south bar that Wonwoo had said their friends were waiting at.

Joshua spots you and waves you both over, making room at the bar for you to join. Jeonghan’s eyes flick to where your arm is looped through Seungcheol to Seungcheol himself, raising a brow. Seungcheol glares at him, urging him to shut up and Jeonghan grins, turning to order drinks at the bar.

Wonwoo claps Seungcheol on the back in greeting before kissing you on both cheeks and letting you sit on the only barstool available. Seungcheol moves with you pressed to your back as he leans an elbow on the bar, keeping you close. You lean into him, earning a shy smile that he tries to hide behind the rim of the champagne glass that Jeonghan hands him.

He likes this. He likes being with his friends. He likes the way you laugh and lean back further into him when you do. He likes that his friends don’t bother the two of you about being attached at the hip. And he likes the way your face lights up every time he jokingly calls you wifey.

Seungcheol wants this.

He doesn’t recall the last time he wanted a relationship the way he wants with you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything before you is gone and forgotten, and what matters now are the things that are post-meeting-you.

Plied with lots of champagne and your laughter, Seungcheol lets you drag him onto the dance floor, wrapping your arms around him as he spins you. He doesn’t know what has him more drunk, the alcohol or you. He thinks it might be you.

The DJ announces that it’s one minute until midnight, making Seungcheol spin and look up at the clock. The partygoers cheer, clustering together to press toward the clock to count down. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close in the tight crowd.

His heart flutters as he watches the numbers countdown, realizing he gets to kiss you at midnight. He’s kissed you over a hundred times by now, but the prospect makes him giddy. His heart races as the numbers drop and he looks at you from the corner of your eye.

You’re watching the clock, uncontrolled happiness on your face as you yell with the rest of the crowd, counting each number as it passes by.

When the clock strikes midnight, you peer up at him, suddenly unsure. He can’t believe you don’t see it, that you’d doubt for one second that he wants you to be his first kiss of the year. His heart seizes, dipping down with a smile to press his lips to yours.

Your mouth is warm and champagne-sweet, making him groan in the back of his throat. Your fingers cling to his hip, holding him by the waist as he slips a hand up to the back of your neck to hold you in place, deepening the kiss.

When you pull your mouth away, he makes up his mind. Fuck everything he said about keeping it casual - he doesn’t want to go another minute without you knowing what he wants.

DAY NINETY THREE

“Be my girlfriend.”

The words that come from Seungcheol’s lips catch you off guard. A giggle bursts to your lips and you lean back, trying to examine him from a little farther away. You feel the glitter of champagne in your veins and the same buzz that comes with being near Seungcheol, wondering if maybe he’s had too much to drink.

“What?” you ask, examining his face. He’s flushed, lips pink and smiling, but his eyes are dark and serious.

“Be my girlfriend,” he says again, this time quieter. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath fans your face, warm and sweetened by champagne. “I know we agreed to be casual so if you don’t want more, that’s fine. But there is nothing casual about the way I feel about you.”

Heart thundering, you laugh and cling to him a little tighter. He nudges you with his head, as though asking what’s so funny. You don’t know how to put into words that you’ve wanted to be not casual for a long time, that you are dizzy with the prospect of being something more, that he’s just made the first minute of your year perfect.

Instead of trying to string together the words to tell him, you kiss him. His mouth turns upward, letting you press your palms to the sides of his face, holding him to your lips. There’s no one else but just the two of you, entirely in your own bubble on the rooftop.

Relief mixed with euphoria floods your system. It’s a weight lifted off your shoulders, realizing that you’re not crazy, that nothing you feel about Seungcheol is casual and that’s okay. That he feels it too.

Your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He groans, separating your mouths to peer down at you, his lashes fanning when he blinks, dazed.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers. “This is a work party. I’ll fold right here.”

“So take me somewhere that isn’t here and fold.”

His gummy smile is blinding, your heart soaring. “Alright, wifey.”

“Gonna need a ring pop at a minimum if you’re gonna keep saying that shit.”

He links your fingers together, stepping away from you. He tugs you after him and you follow. “Deal. What flavor?”

“Strawberry. I kind of want to suck something else right now, though.”

Seungcheol groans and you laugh, loving the way he visibly struggles as your words land. He walks faster, a new pep in his step as you make your way toward the elevator. He shouts Wonwoo’s name as he goes, waving his hand to tell him that you’re leaving.

Wonwoo’s grin is all-knowing as he throws two thumbs up, cheering happily. You tingle with a little bit of embarrassment, scurrying toward the closing elevator door to catch it. It opens again and you both slip inside, alone and buzzing from the party and your newfound status.

The door closes and Seungcheol pushes in close. You press against the wall, looking up at his sharp grin, his nose nudging yours. His lips are almost on yours, the heat of them against your mouth making you dizzy and the heavy weight of his body against yours making your thoughts sticky.

“Gonna suck something else, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“Wanna do it right here in the elevator?”

“Huh?”

He bursts into laughter at your wide gaze, tapping the underside of your chin with his knuckle in jest. “I’m kidding. Unless…”

You shove him away and he starts laughing again, bending over with the force of it. You can’t be annoyed by his teasing, loving the way his eyes crease at the corner and how he laughs with the full force of his body.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You should have seen your face, though.”

“I mean I’ll do it right now, if you want.”

His smile drops and he opens his mouth a little, shocked. “Wait, really?”

“No, but you should have seen your face.”

The elevator arriving at the appropriate floor saves him from answering. He scowls at you and you giggle, grabbing him and pushing him into the hall and toward your room. He turns on his heel, falling into step with you and fishing the room key out of his pocket.

It’s cold in the room when you enter. Seungcheol had booked a one bedroom suite with a small living room and kitchenette. It was more than what you needed for the night, but it feels nice, like your own private getaway.

Taking you by the hand, he walks backward toward the bedroom, pulling you along. His smile is beautiful and you wear a matching one. A thrill shoots through you when you realize that Seungcheol is yours. Really yours.

Sitting on the bed, he pulls you into his lap. Your knees sink in the mattress on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. Leaning over him, you link your hands behind the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the silky hair there.

Seungcheol tilts his face up toward you, eyes fluttering as you play with his hair. His arms loop around your waist, squeezing you.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi.”

Leaning down, you slot your mouth against his. He tastes like champagne, mouth warm. Kissing him takes your breath away, thoughts guttering out as he licks into your mouth hungrily. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, feeling like you’re on fire.

Seungcheol falls backward on the bed. His lips are swollen and pink, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at you. He reaches for you but you give him a coy smile and slip from his lap, crouching to the floor and running your hands along his thighs, feeling them flex beneath your touch.

You love Seungcheol’s thighs. Your nails drag across the fabric and he lets out a breathy sound. His muscles twitch as you reach to brush your fingers over his zipper, making sure to press into his cock. His hips jerk upward at the barest hint of stimulation and you grin.

“It’s no elevator,” you tease. “But will this do?”

“Fucking anywhere will do.”

Seungcheol has always been sensitive. He’s easy to rile, cock already firm by the time you’re undoing his belt and he’s helping you pull his dress pants down his thighs. You eye the dark patch in his briefs, proud that with just a little bit of kissing and some light touching he’s already leaking at the tip.

Sitting high on your knees, you lean forward, tongue pressing wetly to the tip of his cock through the fabric. A hand shoots to the back of your head, his fingers gripping you firmly as you laugh, tongue still pressed to him and soaking through his briefs.

“Don’t you dare tease me tonight,” he warns, voice shaky. “That is not wifey behavior.”

You remove your tongue, pouting and moving to press a kiss to his thigh. “You never let me tease you.”

“I’m not patient.” Your teeth scrape the softness of his flesh and his legs twitch, knees knocking your shoulder. “Baby, I am so serious.”

Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile, you give in. You know with certainty he’d let you drag this out if you really wanted to. Seungcheol is impatient and greedy and demanding, but he also lets you do what you want when it comes down to it.

Instead of testing his grace, you peel his briefs down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters at his thick length, your hand automatically reaching up to grab him. You swipe your thumb through the precum gathered, using it to slide down the full length of his shaft.

Seungcheol’s hips buck. You grip him properly, working him slowly as you shuffle closer on your knees. They already hurt, hotel carpet digging into them but you ignore it in favor of watching the way his fingers slowly undo the button of his shirt, needing to shuck the fabric off.

“You’re pretty,” you note absently. His stomach flexes when he sits up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He looks down at you, pupils dilated. “Very, very pretty.”

“You’re a work of art yourself.”

Instead of laying back down flat, he leans back on his palms, letting his head fall back. Seungcheol shuts his eyes, face tilted up at the ceiling as though in prayer. “Feels good.”

Humming happily, you lean forward and slowly run the flat of your tongue up the base of his shaft. That draws a low moan out of him, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You’re fascinated by his reactions, watching his face and body language carefully as you swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.

He’s responsive, fingers digging into the sheets in an effort not to grab your head and take control. He’s testing his patience, letting you bring him into the wet heat of your mouth at your pace, sucking lazily.

“Fuck,” he groans. You hum around him and he shakes his head, shivering. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Good you think, setting a proper place as you swallow him down, letting your spit pool to help make the glide easier. It’s messy and wet, just the way Seungcheol likes it, his moans backtracking the slick sounds coming from your mouth.

What you can’t fit in your mouth properly, you cover with your hand, squeezing periodically as you stroke upward, meeting your stretched lips.

“God,” Seungcheol whispers. “You know how to suck cock.”

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you grin, feeling the sting in your mouth from the stretch. Your lips are cum and spit-slicked, sticky as you continue to stroke him.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “I heard I’m wifey material.”

“Fucking, shit, yeah a little bit. Fuckkkk, mouth please.”

You comply, sucking him back into your mouth. He’s putty underneath you, hips twitching off the bed a little as soft sounds drip from his mouth. You watch, totally hypnotized by the way he moved, the way his hairline gets a little sweaty as he nods, encouraging you.

Biting his lip, he lifts a hand from the bed to grab at you, pulling you off of him. “Come here,” he growls, opening his.

Seungcheol pulls you to him, not caring that your mouth is a mess. His tongue delves in, exploring the mixed taste of champagne and precum, hands pulling at your dress to peel it off of you.

“Let me sit against the headboard,” he pants, breaking the kiss to scoot backward. You peel your underwear off and toss them, following him across the mattress as he settles. He pats his lap and reaches for you. “Come here, baby.”

You settle into his lap again, mouth melding to his. His hands explore you, gripping your ass, squeezing your waist, running up your front to pinch at your nipples. You moan into his mouth, carding your fingers in his hair and pulling at the stimulation, your head tilting back a little.

He takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat, biting sharply and soothing the sting with his tongue. Sinking a little lower, you feel your pussy brush against his cock and you sigh, gently rolling your hips to slide your sticky folds up his shaft.

Seungcheol groans against you, mouth feverish against your skin. He maps your throat, kissing and biting his way to your chest, where he steals a pert nipple into his mouth to give a harsh suck. You squeal and he grins, plucking at your sensitive bud with his teeth.

Holding onto him, you let him lavish attention to your tits the way he wants, hands squeezing, tongue flicking. It feels good. Aflame, you continue to roll your hips shallowly in his waist, just giving the barest of stimulation to you both.

A hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your swelling clit, pressing against it. You whine loudly, fighting off a violent shiver. He grins where he has your breast in his mouth, sucking generously as he lazily circles your clit with his fingers.

“Cheol,” you whisper-whine. “You said no teasing.”

“I said no teasing me.” His fingers slide backward and dip into your entrance teasingly. You clench around nothing, aching for him to do something. “Flustered, huh?”

“Please give me something.”

He presses his lips against the side of your jaw, grinning. “Fine.” He sinks a single finger into you and you sigh in immediate relief. It isn’t enough but it’s something, your hips rocking to take him in deeper. “Better?”

“I can take more.”

“Of course you can.” He pushes in another finger, the stretch so good. “You’re my girl. You can take what I give you.”

Dropping your head to his shoulder, you nod. You hide your face in his flushed skin, riding his fingers as he slowly slides them home, working you gently. They press against your sensitive spot and you curse, gripping him a little tighter.

Impatient and needing more, you grind yourself forward, fucking his hand properly. He laughs, letting you take what you need, cupping you fully so the heel of his palm grinds into your clit. Your movements are frenzied, driven by the desire for him, the feeling curling inside you.

“Just like that,” he encourages. “Fuck yourself on my fingers just like that.”

You do, thighs aching and body shaking. The sheets stick to your legs as you work yourself up, sweaty palms sliding against Seungcheol’s shoulders. He whispers in your ear, voice low and scratchy, adding to the building mania inside of you.

“Shit,” you hiss, feeling the tightness in your stomach start to boil over.

“Come on, come around my fingers. You got it.”

His gentle voice pushes you over all the way and you clench around his fingers, coming undone. Your hips stop moving and your legs squeeze around his as you seize up. Seungcheol is having none of it, taking the lead to drive his fingers up into you as you flutter around him.

“Oh,” you gasp as he finer fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, sucking at a tender spot on your neck until you’re trembling and a mess. “Okay, okay, okay.”

Seungcheol takes it easy on you, pulling his fingers from between your legs with a slick noise. You heave against him, catching your breath while he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks obnoxiously.

“Mmm.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smacks your ass and you squeak. “Ride my cock like that?”

Huffing, you extend to your full height on your knees. He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes fixed on the mess between your legs as you sink down slowly. His tip breaches you, both of you letting out a sound as you keep going, holding your breath as he stretches you open.

Seungcheol taps your waist. “Breathe.”

You do, inhaling a breath as you nestle in his lap, seated fully, clenching around him. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm.”

Seungcheol’s hands move up your sides, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. This time, you know the look in his eye is real. His gaze is covetous, looking at you like you’re his because you are.

You catch his hands with yours, linking your finger and squeezing. He smiles, looking up at you with dark locks of hair in his face. You smile back, starting to roll your hips, using his hands to steady yourself.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. The cool air of the hotel room brushes across your back, making you shiver. The mattress dips under your movement, your thighs flexing to keep your balance steady, Seungcheol’s grip on you helping.

“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol mutters, using your linked hands to pull you toward him. Your hands slip from him, going to the headboard to help lift you instead. His grip finds your waist, aiding in your movement while his mouth finds your breasts. “God these tits.”

An ache settles in your thighs but you ignore it, chasing an orgasm. You tremble in his hold, breath punching out of you as he mumbles your name, watching you with fucked out eyes and lips parted, like you’re giving him everything he ever wanted.

You kind of feel that way. The way he looks at you isn’t that different from before, but now you’re confident in it, realizing that everything with Seungcheol felt too intimate because it was. Casual was never the right name for it, neither of you having any idea how to really be no strings attached.

“My fucking legs hurt,” you admit, panting. “Can you take over?”

“Mhmm.” Seungcheol surges forward, knocking you backward onto the bed. You laugh, bouncing a little as he pulls out and helps maneuver you. “Turn around for me.”

With shaking arms, you follow his instruction. The sheets cling to you as you roll, making you huff and swat at them. He chuckles, peeling them away from your sweaty skin while you settle on your stomach, arching your ass a little.

He palms your left cheek, groaning and dragging his blunt nails down the curve to your hip where he grabs you. “Unreal,” he whispers, to either you or himself.

You gasp when he thrusts pack in, punching the air from your lungs as he sets a sharp pace. You jostle on the bed, grabbing the sheets and knotting your hands in them to keep you in place, a stream of whimpers leaving you.

A hand slips up your spine, pressing flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the bed. You gasp and nod, Seungcheol taking it as a sign to put more weight into it, angling his hips so he’s fucking down into you.

It’s hard to breathe, the dizziness taking over as your skin starts to turn to static, orgasm so close that you can feel the buzz between your legs. He keeps going like that, pinning you hard to the bed as his hips crash into yours.

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as you squeeze around him, letting loose. He curses, picking up his pace, ignoring the wet squelch as he does, palm pressing you harder into the bed as you come.

You think you might disintegrate, unable to do anything but make broken sounds as he chases his orgasm. Just when you think you might not get another breath, he comes, the pressure on your back lifting a little. You gasp for air, feeling the room tilt as his thrusts slow, becoming gentle.

Seungcheol’s hands are soothing on your back, fingers dancing up and down your spine, delicate. He’s muttering something to you but you can’t hear him, the pounding of your heart far too loud, pulse rattling in your ears.

When his hips are still, his hands keep moving. He leans over you, careful not to put his weight on you, mouth kissing across your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed flat against the sheet as you pant, coming down from a fever pitch.

“You okay if I get up and get you water?” the question is whispered across your cheek, where Seungcheol presses a tender kiss. You nod and he kisses you again before peeling away from you.

Laying in the bed, you drift, listening to him shuffle around to the kitchen. You’re sleepy but more aware now. When the bed dips again, you crack your eye open, watching as he navigates carefully on his knees, two glasses of water in hand.

“Can you sit up or do you need help?” You shake your head and muster the strength you have left to sit up. Your muscles spasm as you do, a groan leaving your mouth as the room spins from the change in perspective. “You okay?”

“Thirsty,” you rasp, reaching for the glass he offers. Gulping down the cool water, you’re aware of his eyes on you, watching you drain the glass as he sips his. “Thank you.”

He takes the empty glass and kisses your lips. “Mhmm. Need more?”

“No, I’m good. I just need to sleep for five hundred years, no big deal.”

“Damn, five hundred goes crazy. Do you think we’ll have flying cars by then?”

Seungcheol puts both glasses on the nightstand and peels back the covers of the bed. He slips under them, patting the spot next to him. You crawl over, limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He laughs at you and you scowl, but manage to clamber in next to him, warm beneath the blankets and tucked into his chest.

“Yes, definitely. And like giant sexy holograms advertising porn, probably.”

“That’s the first thing you think of in the future? Porn?”

“Listen,” you huff, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes. “I’m still a little champagne buzzed and you just fucked me until I couldn’t breathe for a while. Cut me slack.”

“Sure thing, wifey.”

“Ugh. Is that our thing now?”

“Mhmm. Everything pre-relationship has henceforth been replaced with the relationship-only era. Pretend you have amnesia.”

A huff of laughter leaves you. “Sure thing.”

“I mean I feel like I have amnesia.” You give him a questioning look. He’s contemplative, staring with unseeing eyes as he plays with your fingers. “I had an entire life and habits before you, and I swear it’s like sometimes my memory actually starts with that first night at the bar.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re just around a lot and I like to think it’s always been that way. And I’m kind of sorry for taking so long to admit nothing about this was casual for me.”

You smile. “Wasn’t for me either.”

“Good.” He snuggles into you, settling in silence for a few moments. “Thanks for letting me win pool that first night.”

“I did not let you win that game, oh my god.”

“Just admit it! You wanted to taste my goodies and you let me win.”

“I’m gonna give you some damn amnesia,” you mutter, but grin as he hugs you tight.

“Sure thing, wifey. Sure thing.”

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moonchild1 · 1 year ago

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kim taehyung fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hello everyone i know it's been a while since i posted, work has been hectic, but i got some time and managed to finish a list so please enjoy i have a few lists ready to post so i'll que them up... here's my all time favourite taehyung fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, leave a heart, reblog or even leave a message or feedback under their posts i know they would appreciate hearing from you, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed you will be blocked ♡ feel free to recommend me some fics or just share what your reading right now i'd love hearing from you 🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

only here to sin by @gimmethatagustd s a ft. namjoon

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

our gray winter by @vyduan s a ft. jjk

“Were you looking for this?” Taehyung asked as he handed you the box of tampons you always bought. He remembered. You wanted to sink into the floor and die. Instead, you recalled your manners and said, “Thanks.” You put the box in your basket. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He beamed at you. It was patently unfair how he could look all glowy and soft while you looked… not like that. “Of course, Y/N.” If possible, Taehyung’s voice dropped even lower. “I remember everything about you.”

schemes and tricks to win her heart by @crystaljins ft. ksj

Rich company heir Kim Seokjin has a plan to win the heart of the girl of his dreams, and you, his little brother’s best friend, are dragged along for the ride. His younger brother objects, of course.

camboy!tae by @hisunshiine f s a

Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene.

tolerate it by @archivedkookie s a

Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

what was hidden by @daechwitatamic s a ft. myg

This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You're assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg's The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there's a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one's "true self" versus one's "shown self", darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

complete faith by @daechwitatamic

It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it, even though he’s attentive and funny, even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. jjk

it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.

with a brush of fate by @yoongiofmine f s a

Your roommate was sure she found you the perfect man. Her boyfriend believed he found Taehyung’s soulmate. The only problem was that you never wanted to date an idol and he never wanted to drag you into this life. Taehyung didn’t even know what he wanted anymore and was tired of being criticized for simply growing up. You just wanted to finish university and do something for yourself. What started out with the meddling of your friends became something neither of you expected. Could the two of you be what the other is missing? Or would things just fall apart?

groovy by @kinktae f s a

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister.

tempting by @/kinktae s a

Y/N is an angel. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She runs into a demon but, luckily for her, that demon doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, he just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

talk by @gukslut f s a

Finals week is kicking your ass, thank goodness you have a friend to help you relieve some stress. It’s a great arrangement, as long as no one finds out... as long as you don’t catch feelings. What could go wrong?

somebody to love by @cutechim

kim taehyung wins the heart of everyone he meets, and you—his self-proclaimed work “nemesis”—are not an exception.

tear you apart by @bratkook s

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear, ‘I wanna fucking tear you apart.’ demon au

clairevont by @/bratkook f s a ft. jjk

The second year of college starts off with a bang until you find yourself tangled in between your fuck buddy Kim Taehyung and his innocent room mate Jeon Jungkook.

free use by @littlemisskookie f s a

You tell your crush you want him to have full control of you in every way always. He obliges.

lost myth of truelove by @sugalaritae f s a

for six months you wait for him, a weekend spent together, finally able to reach the man your soul is tethered to.

because of you, blue by @ugh-yoongi f s a

nearly a year out from your breakup with taehyung, jin begs you for help saving his failing restaurant. the two of you aren’t exactly friends, but you feel some stupid sense of obligation and, really, what’s the worst that could happen?

true love by @jjkeverlast f s a

in which you're face to face with your ex again after 5 years, because both of your friends start dating each other.

obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash s a

The world of magic is divided into dark and light, witches and warlocks, choice and fate. You’re a prodigy of light, a witch who works within the police force. You’ve heard of Taehyung in passing, spoken in whispers as the warlock of dark who has the world holding it’s breath. All this changes on the night you’re assigned as security for a mysterious singer named V and you come face to face with Taehyung himself. What happens after that might be fate.

baby, baby by @hobiwonder ft. pjm f s a

When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

entangled by @caelesjjk ft. jjk s a

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well. Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

buzzed by @junqkook f s a

maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

queen cobra by @fantasybangtan f s a

when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

pulse by @rohobi f s a

You fell in love with Kim Taehyung during Medical School. Now living totally different lives in completely different hospitals, you're pulled together again as if by fate during a code black when someone plants a bomb in your hospital.

things we don't say by @wintaerbaer f s a

Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

mars by @to-star-lake s a

ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung

satisy by @suga-kookiemonster f s a

“listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

no kisses by @icedmatchatae f s a

It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

beyond desire by @strwberrytae s a

it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

one-shot

crazy for you by @oddinary4bts f s a

you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse?

seventeen times 17 by @cutaepatootie f s a

You loved him Seventeen Times 17.

ten out of ten by @shadowkoo f s a

For the past three years, Kim Taehyung has made it his mission to annoy you relentlessly on campus, finding every possible way to drive you up the wall during your shared classes. However, as you both enter your senior year, something strange happens. Taehyung begins to sense a shift in his energy, realizing he might just have some secret feelings for you. What unfolds when you make this earth-shattering discovery too?

under wraps by @jungkxook f s

there’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

always the bridesmaid by @kookingtae f s a

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

any way you want it by @noteguk s

in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

sharing is caring by @jjkpls f s ft. pjm

Taehyung is taken aback when his soulmate, Jimin, introduces his new girlfriend to him. Jimin tries to help them break the ice.

the end of all things (and the beginning of us) by @/kidguk f s a

the end of the world has come and passed, but there is still much to live for. there’s hope, there’s tomorrow, and there’s that guy you met while scavenging for supplies in an abandoned cinema. turns out he hates being alone, and the feeling is mutual.

aberrant by @kth1 f s

Meeting a handsome and rare fox hybrid was the last thing you had expected in a world of coexisting hybrids. What you also hadn’t expected was how this fox found a liking to you, showed up randomly at places where you were and next thing you knew - you were falling, hard, for the man.

lost in you by @/jjkeverlast f s a

the infamous kim taehyung, campus fuckboy and heartthrob is much more than you thought after an unexpected night.

the dinner date by @diortae f (ao3)

pretending to be on a date with your best friend to get a free meal at the fancy restaurant jeongguk works weekends at doesn’t sound so terrible, all things considered. there’s just one small problem: you’re pretty sure you’re in love with the aforementioned best friend.

until yesterday by @jimlingss f s a

You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

the forsaken by @yoonia s a ft. knj

In order to save your people from the danger of drought and hunger, your father had sent you out on a mission across the ocean to find the heart of nature that could bring back the prosperity which your land had long lost. As the Chief’s daughter, you took the mission as your responsibility, even if you had to let the man that vexes you the most join you in your journey, even if you had to ignore the Elders’ warnings about the dangers and all the vicious monsters lying in wait.

blacklist by @httpjeon f s a ft. jjk

after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

1-800-music-street by @/httpjeon f s

↬you’re enchanted by a street performer and then he saves you, resulting in multiple meetings one can only describe as fate.

farner boy i love you by @strawberrynamjoon f s a

↬Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

waterloo by @/kinktae f s a

↬Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn't believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love."

get you the moon by @bymoonchild f s a

↬Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

fate of the fast & furious by @prolixitae f s

↬you’re a first-generation college student and taehyung is the hot guy with a love for motorbikes who lands the job babysitting for your family while you’re away.

fast & fearless: what comes first by @/prolixitae

↬taehyung is used to earning his keep through illegal street races, and he’s got every reason to win that upcoming promise of prize money for an old friend. but when the odds don’t fall in his favor, he turns to babysitting. enter, you: a first-generation college student with too much to lose to be spending all your time with a troublemaking biker. who also happens to babysit for your kid brother.

cobalt blue by @hobivore s ft. jjk

↬you ask Jungkook to draw you like one of his French girls.

let it snow by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.

muse by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

falling, falling gone by @johobi f

↬Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection. So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

new tricks by @geniuslab f s

↬When your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

guns & roses by @chateautae f s

↬he was cold-blooded, stone-faced and ruthless; a formidable force anyone in the criminal underworld sought to destroy. and he didn’t care, so long as it was never you.. anything but you.

saudade by @chateautae f s a

↬a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

strands by @xjoonchildx s a

↬taehyung can't figure out how he got separated from his men, or how he ended up stranded in these woods -- hurt. the only thing he knows is that he has no choice but to rely on the beautiful, secretive stranger who's found him.

cheap skate by @/gukslut f s

↬Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

definition of love by @taegularities f s a

↬When the gorgeous student from your literature class starts showing interest in you, you discover that there's much more to him than his know-it-all facade. But is this realization enough to get through your insecurities and secrets?

↬looking for other kth fics or the other members check out my library for more

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tangledinink · 8 months ago

Note

Hello sorry for tagging. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging

Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.

Okay kids, are you ready for a lesson in SPOTTING ONLINE SCAMS????

*please don't message this person or harass them-- i do recommend that you report and block them, however.

right now it's incredibly important to give time, attention, and money to online fundraisers. but it's also incredibly important not to let scammers take advantage of that and steal money that could actually save lives right now.

firstly-- if we go to this person's blog, and navigate to "archive--"

this person's blog has only existed for a few days, only has a handful of generic posts (many reblogged multiple times,) and made their first reblog the same day that they posted their "fundraiser" post. this is a MASSIVE red flag.

please also note that neither their ask nor post actually mention palestine or gaza at all, but it's still tagged with "free palestine" and "gaza."

though this one should obviously be taken with a grain of salt, it is also worth noting the poor grammar here, because this can be (but isn't always!!!) another red flag. Note also that all the details are really vague and don't quite make sense... user describes "enduring cold" and their "nose freezing" though it's the middle of the summer. This user says that they're "sick," but doesn't really offer any further details about this. This user says that they need money for "resources," but don't elaborate on what exactly they need. They vaguely elude to a need for lodging, caretakers, and medicine, but don't actually give us any details-- despite this they have a "$1200" goal. What is this specific goal of $1200 for? Is that the cost of their medication? Overdue medical bills? Cost for rent this month?... They also apologize in their ask for "tagging" me... but they didn't tag me. They sent me an ask.

Another red flag is that their link labeled "Fundraiser link" leads directly to a Paypal donation page rather than a gofundme or anything else. If someone chooses to collect aid through paypal, venmo, etc. instead of through a gofundme, that's not a huge issue in and of itself... but it is fishy that it's mislabeled like this.

And if we GOOGLE this user's tumblr name or paypal name, we can find results like this:

This also led me to find them on @/kyra45's blog on their list of current scam accounts.

Despite all this, they have close to 100 reblogs from well-meaning people trying to signal boost and ask for donations on their behalf.

With the current situation in Palestine and the amount of actual, legitimate fundraisers and donations being circulated right now, for Palestine, Sudan, the Congo, or otherwise, it is more important than ever to be aware of people who are trying to take advantage of the situation for their own personal gain. Whenever possible, please take the time to do some due diligence when you receive messages like this and check to see if a fundraiser is legitimate! It always sucks for someone to be the victim of a scam and lose money to someone playing pretend on the internet... but it sucks even more when that money could have gone to people in actual, acute, dire need.

Here's some more information about spotting scams on tumblr! Shoutout to tumblr user kyra45 for compiling this, and for all the other hard work they do-- thanks.

Here's an actual, vetted, and legitimate campaign that could use your support. After receiving this ask, I went and donated. If you have the means to do so, it would be amazing if you did so, too.

[ see ALL gaza funds campaigns here ]

#long post #sorry but this makes me deeply upset so im funneling it into. this. considered putting it under a readmore but like. actually... no i wont #important #palestine #donations #mutual aid #fundraising #scammers #im gonna go and fucking... reblog a bunch of fundraisers after this... i dont reblog enough of them....#usually i just delete scam asks like this but the fact that they are using the palestine/gaza tags #to falsely imply theyre a palestinian in need of aid and to try to trick ppl/gain attention... really makes me quite angry :')

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kithtaehyung · 2 years ago

Text

seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk

POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!! upcoming series: seven days (m) pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵

—

“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—”

“No.”

“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.”

“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.”

“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”

“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.”

There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”

“You mean those days are only a trial run?”

You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!”

“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”

You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity,

“No.”

He doesn’t say a word.

“Not since my standards changed.”

And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—

“I could do it.”

“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.”

“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?”

“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning.

But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,

“I am.”

tbc. :))

🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵

a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts smut #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #*latest #teasers #bts fanfic #jjk fic #7days

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scoonsalicious · 10 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 18, Unread - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 970

Previously On...: Bucky made all kinds of sweet suggestions for your future together.

A/N: Almost there...

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc]

After Bucky had kissed you goodbye and left for his debrief, you set about getting ready for your day. You showered and brushed your teeth, pleasantly noticing that you hadn’t vomited since last night. Maybe good cock was the cure you’d needed all this time, you thought with a laugh.

You stripped and remade your bed because, though you knew you’d probably just be getting it filthy again as soon as Bucky was back, you weren’t excited about getting back into cold, damp sheets. Maybe you should invest in one of those absorbent sex blankets you’d read about online. You could buy one for your new place!

That thought led you to open up Zillow on your laptop to browse available apartments in the general area. You didn’t want to move too far away; you both still needed to be at the Tower for work, after all. You had to admit, now that you were giving it some real thought, the idea excited you. Not just because you wanted to move in with Bucky, but because you’d be creating, for the first time in your entire life, a home of your very own, without feeling beholden to anyone for it, whether out of love or a sense of obligation. The very notion was elating.

You were browsing through some gorgeous but ridiculously overpriced condos when you heard a phone buzz. You glanced at your screen, but it was black. Frowning, you glanced around and noticed Bucky’s cell sitting on one of your bedside tables. He must have forgotten it before he left for his meeting.

You walked over to it and glanced at the screen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the newly received message from Sam that caught your attention. It was the notification below it, informing Bucky that he had one new text message from ‘Vix <3.’

That’s not possible, you thought as you picked up the phone. I blocked her number, myself. There’s no way she should be able to text him. Against your better judgment, you typed in your birthday to unlock his phone. Biting your lip, a sudden surge of anxiety flooding your system, you navigated to his SMS app and opened up his thread with Jade.

Your stomach soured and your blood turned to ice as you scrolled up, reading the contents of the thread. This couldn’t be possible. He wouldn’t– but yet, there it was, staring you right in the face. Fighting back a wave of nausea, you ran to the bathroom and vomited, this time having nothing to do with your stomach bug and everything to do with your heart breaking.

You were dreaming. You had to be dreaming. But no. You read through the thread again and again, and again. There was no mistaking it. You slid down the bathroom wall to the floor, clutching the phone to your chest, but no tears came.

No, instead of falling apart, you felt your walls come back up, going so high that they merged together above you, encasing you in a dome of icy rage. Instead of sadness, you felt resolve. He had lied to your face and played you for a fool. Well, it had been for the last time. There was no coming back from this. Not ever. You’d give him no more chances to betray you.

You were a fucking fool to have believed his pretty lies, his hollow promises. An idiot for constantly forgiving him, when it was clear, now, that he had never really loved you. Oh, he may have thought he did. But this… what you had just seen evidence of– this was not love.

With a shaking breath, you stood up. You took screenshots of every incriminating text and sent them to yourself. You needed to move quickly so you were finished before he got back. Running to your computer, you printed out multiple copies of the screenshots then, you meticulously went through your room, collecting everything of Bucky’s that had migrated across the hall from his room to yours over the course of your relationship and crammed it all into a box.

You found one of his precious knives under the bed, and thought about throwing it out the window, but then an idea struck you. Taking the knife, the box of stuff, and a copy of the screenshots, you opened your door and walked across the hall. You unceremoniously dumped the contents of the box into a heap in front of Bucky’s door, then, using all of your strength, rammed the knife through the wooden door, pinning the screenshots in place. Let him run face-first into the evidence of his betrayal.

Running back into your room, you grabbed your go-bag, tossing some essentials in it. You couldn’t stay in this room, not right now, after everything that had happened last night and this morning. Besides, it would be too easy for him to find you here. You needed to go somewhere where he wouldn’t think to look for you. You didn’t trust yourself right now not to claw his eyes out if you saw him. Though lord knows he would fucking deserve it.

Before you left your room, you called out to FRIDAY. “Lock my door behind me, and under no circumstances are you to let Sergeant Barnes into my room,” you told the AI.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N),” she responded.

“Oh, and FRIDAY? One more thing,” you added, “if Sergeant Barnes asks where I am, tell him ‘fucking dead to him.”

It was sickening how cheerfully the AI responded to your depressing command, promising that she would deliver the message to him, should he inquire.

With a final look around, and a cage of ice around your heart, you closed the door to your room, to your love for Bucky, and you didn’t look back.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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restwellsoon · 6 months ago

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Cherry Syrup Kisses

Minors and blank/ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x GN!Reader

Summary: The summer months bring many things to yours and Shouto’s relationship–warmer weather, poolside drinks, beach days, public scrutiny. See, summer in Japan is the slow season for pro-heroes, meaning it’s also slow for the media that follows them. How do they fill this gap? By reporting on pro-heroes’ relationships or lack thereof, of course! Understandably, you’re self-conscious about some things, but Shouto’s there to prove you wrong.

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: GN!reader, established relationship, fluff, “hurt/comfort”

A/N: For my angel baby Andie's pretty boy summer collab. Check out the masterlist for other great fics.

There were several things that you could attribute to summer: the metallic hum of cicadas buzzing, the smell of fireworks in the night sky, the icy hot comfort of the various wipes you used to keep cool in the humidity. Now you could add another thing to the list–the grating sounds of cameras clicking and reporters asking intrusive questions.

You were lucky during your first summer with Shouto. A genius villain had threatened to collapse Japan’s education system by giving all students that elusive ‘S’ grade. Newsgroups covered the debacle for nearly half the year. This year wasn’t as eventful, and the Hero Public Safety Commission had arrogantly declared this a summer of peace.

Naturally, less crime meant less work for the pro-heroes, which in turn meant less news to report on. Before getting with Shouto, you never kept up with hero culture, but now it was something you had to be particularly mindful of. You never realized how much the media relied on pro-heroes to keep the masses entertained. When crime was slow, they’d look for any kind of story that would sell.

“Unfortunately, some of us don’t have the luxury of a publicist to coach us on how to react to these kinds of situations,” you snapped–a comment you later apologized for.

The two of you had been stuck on the couch for at least an hour, no thanks to you and your hesitation about tonight.

“I don’t think I can do it, Shou.”

He was patient–god, he was fucking patient–and gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him head on. “Repeat after me,” he implored, “I can do it. I can do it even if I’m a little scared.”

“I can do it,” you sighed, finally giving in. This was his fourth pep talk after all. “I can do it even if I’m a little scared.”

“Good.” His hand trailed from your chin down to the curve of your shoulder. “I knew I could be confident in your ability to take directions well.” Shouto savored the heat of your skin as shyness burned across your body.

“But still!” You pulled back from his touch, much to Shouto’s annoyance. He huffed before leaning back into his seat, crossing his arms. “Even if we go out tonight, what makes you think that people won’t recognize you?”

Sporting a shorter cut that made his bangs fall just short of his brows and feather perfectly along his cheeks, Shouto’s hair brought more attention to his face. Anyone could fall in love with one look into his eyes. His chiseled jaw was left bare. From behind, you could see the thickness of his neck, tucked in-between broad shoulders. You weren’t sure if you should hate or thank his hairstylist.

It wasn’t just his face though. It was his clothes. Even if he weren’t a pro-hero, surely Shouto had enough social awareness to know that people would stare because of what he was wearing. You clicked your tongue. No, he lacked that sort of recognition, or maybe he simply didn’t care.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

His clean, black cotton shirt wrinkled across his chest, pleased to be given a break from having their fibers stretched to their limits. It fit just right, meaning that his biceps bulged while he crossed his arms and pouted. At least his jeans and sneakers weren’t as eye-catching.

Everyone was used to the professional dressed pro-hero or seeing Shouto in a suit as he made publicity rounds across Japan. You might not keep up with hero culture, but you knew how the minds of the thirsty worked–they’d go absolutely feral if they saw him in casual wear.

“I shouldn’t expect much out of someone who uses his actual first name as his pro-hero identity.” You shook your head. “But that’s why I love you, isn’t it? You’ve always been yourself.”

He hummed in deep thought. “I love you too, and well, if anyone asks, I’ll say that I’m not Shouto Todoroki.”

Blowing a puff of air, you gave him a disbelieving ‘As if!’ Shouto who said thank you every time a grandma stopped to call him handsome? Shouto who showed off his quirk any time a child asked, just to make them happy? There was no way he could do that.

He wasn’t finished with his plan as he continued. “Better yet, I’ll tell them that my name isn’t important.” He winked.

You wondered who had taught him that. Was it Sero or Kaminari?

“They can refer to me in the media as your boyfriend.”

No one had taught him that, you decided. He grew cheekier every day you spent together.

Your embarrassment traveled down to your hand as you playfully pushed Shouto, an insignificant detail that made him smile. He was proud that he could still make you feel this way even though the honeymoon stage of the relationship was over.

Grabbing your hand before you could pull away again, he asked you, “Shall we?”

–

“Aren’t you nervous?”

Various friends had asked you that through texts or whenever you met up. After all, the tabloids were running wild this summer. One gossip rag claimed that Bakugou was a virgin, which in turn led to news outlets covering the ensuing libel case. Another claimed that the principal of U.A., Nezu was a nepo baby because he was a relative of one Mr. Charles Entertainment Cheese. There was a wild debate on if that counted as nepotism if they were in different fields.

With Shouto rising the ranks each quarter, it was inevitable that the media would be interested in him, and by association, you. Along with his PR team, Shouto was trying to craft the best way to publicly announce your relationship but while still protecting your normal life as a citizen.

“No,” you’d laugh it off and lie. “I’m too boring for them. Besides, what could they possibly say or photograph me doing?”

“Right,” they’d nod their heads in agreement. “It’s not like they could catch you in a totally vulnerable position while out in public.”

Unfortunately, there was one very glaring and obvious vulnerable position they could catch you in, and unfortunately again, that situation was deeply entwined with celebrating summer.

–

Smoke and the tempting smell of food guided you towards the festival grounds better than your map ever could. Grilled meats greeted you first as workers fanned the flames of their grills and quickly handed out skewers, only to be replaced just as quickly. After those stalls were the usual festival fanfare: takoyaki, okonomiyaki, and grilled corn.

Like you, the other festival goers were too absorbed in the atmosphere to take notice of anyone else. Aside from the food, various games and wares were taking their attention.

“Not so bad, right?” Shouto commented. Putting on a hat and mask at the last minute also helped.

Ever mindful, Shouto watched your reaction to everything you encountered since leaving your apartment. Neither of you said it out loud, but tonight was a big moment for you both. There was a possibility that your relationship could be revealed to the public. You had to be careful.

Tugging you towards a different area, you wondered what he could have been so excited to show you. You passed game stalls that had stuffed animals and goldfish as prizes. You walked past a line of artisanal ceramics.

To your surprise, bright lights and foreign mascots greeted you instead. American style burgs, Korean corn dogs, and other foreign eats lined the small lane.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Shouto asked, chest puffed up with pride.

He was referring to the corn dogs of course, in all their diced potato-coated glory. Referring to the corn dogs, in all of their diced potato-coated glory. During a particularly long mission, you were bored and spammed his phone with different pictures and videos of the food, going so far as bookmarking several places you could try them at.

Differing from its American counterpart, the Korean style corn dogs had a lighter batter, making it crispier. You weren’t sure of what was more intriguing–the different cheeses you could add or the different things you could coat it in. Seeing and smelling them in person had you drooling.

You needed to be strong though. Anyone could be a reporter or photographer nowadays. You wouldn’t know any better unless they approached you. You doubted you could hear any camera clicks with all this noise too.

Swallowing, you lied. “No, I think I want some karaage instead.”

Shouto did his best to hide disappointment. He was looking forward to seeing your face light up at that first bite.

Heading to the nearest karaage stall, Shouto wondered if you were feeling self-conscious. He thought that you were perfect as you were, but you’d been anxious all summer. He couldn’t know with certainty what you were feeling. Just last week, Selkie was sad after a news anchor called his skin lackluster and dry because of the weather. Shouto wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t told him. Were you putting on a brave face too?

–

After sharing some of that delicious fried chicken, Shouto could easily predict what would come next. That was the beauty of knowing someone so well. His hand was already pushing in the right direction towards something sweet as you checked your phone.

Tonight was running more smoothly than expected. The fireworks would start in about an hour. There weren’t suspicious people in the area. After the show, you and Shouto could go home and cuddle.

“S’not fair, Mama!” A child whined from atop his father’s shoulders. “Let Dada have one more. Please!” His ice cream haphazardly swayed as he pleaded with his mother.

“Kenta, sweetie,” his mom tried to say in her gentlest voice, “you might not understand because you’re still a kid, but Dada had three ice cream cones already. He’s gonna have a tummy ache if he eats another one.”

Her partner failed to disagree, quipping, “C’mon, babe! You heard the little guy.”

Shouto thought you had finally gone back to normal. Maybe he was being too sensitive and cautious about your feelings earlier.

“B-but Mama, Dada’s been good today.” Kenta listed off the things his father had done so far. “He got us food, and he put me on his shoulders so I can be real big and see!” His arms made a show of depicting how tall he was now.

And in doing so, Kenta’s ice cream fell on Shouto’s head.

Already hearing Kenta’s sniffles, his dad cooed that it was okay. It was an accident, but he needed to apologize. Meanwhile, his mom already started apologizing on behalf of all of them.

“It’s fine,” Shouto said, ice cream dripping down his hat and falling to the ground. You and her exchanged a look. No, it wasn’t fine.

“Really,” he tried to reassure you both. “There’s a convenience store just outside of here. And how about another cone to replace the one that fell?” Conveniently, the exchange happened in front of another soft serve stall.

Kenta nodded his head in excitement, promising to be more careful this time. His father set him on the ground to prevent other people’s heads and hats from getting ruined by his son.

“Now kiddo, what do you say?”

With ice cream dripping down his chin and onto his hand, Kenta grinned. “Thanks Shouto! This is why you’re my hero.”

You and Shouto froze. Leave it to a child to point out something that you were trying to hide.

His parents scrutinized Shouto more closely. The hat and mask covered most things, but it couldn’t have been anyone else when they saw his scar. “Pro-hero Shouto?”

Their questioning caught the attention of others.

Grabbing your hand, Shouto said in the politest of ways, “No, I think you’re mistaken. Bye now.”

In the rush, his hat got lost to the crowd, making it more obvious that he was lying. You were too distracted by the whispers of his name to wonder how his hair and clothes didn’t get ruined while Shouto focused on getting you out there.

“You okay?” He asked, slightly out of breath as you crossed into Family Mart.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you wheezed, trying to breathe normally.

Straightening out your clothes, you said, “Well, I guess that’s the end of our date, huh? It was nice while it lasted at least.”

Looking outside, he told you, “It might not be the best view, but we can catch the fireworks from that bench over there.” He pointed towards a spot a few meters away that was just off the main street.

“Great,” you said, browsing the drink aisle, grabbing something for both of you to share. You grabbed some wipes too, in case Shouto felt sticky.

At the register, a popsicle slid in with your other items.

“What?” Shouto asked innocently. “Isn’t this your favorite?” He leaned over you to tap his card on the reader. “Besides, I’m paying for it anyway.”

–

Taneo truly was blessed by the heavens with fortune like this. The only reason why he came to this festival was to cover their unique culinary delights. While looking for ice cream, Kenta had stopped him, telling him to go to a specific booth.

“That place is the best,” he argued, “because Shouto got me ice cream from there. It was tasty!”

“Todoroki Shouto?” Taneo clarified, journalist mode activating. Because of the slow season, any pro-hero stories were hot, but stories about the Todoroki Shouto would be especially tantalizing.

“I guess,” Kenta shrugged. How was he supposed to know what Shouto’s surname was? He was only six.

“Yeah, he got me ice cream even though he was on a date,” Kenta told him, not understanding the value of the information he shared. Taneo was already drafting titles in his head. So far “Too Hot to Stay Single, Who’s the Mysterious Person that has Melted Shouto’s Heart?” was his favorite. “That’s what Mama and Dada said at least. They said that when you don’t have kids, you can do whatever you want, like hold hands and go on dates whenever.”

“Kenta, dude!” His father groaned. “You just can’t repeat everything we tell you.”

Meanwhile his mother hoped that the conversation would end soon, in case Kenta would share more personal secrets about his family.

“Oh really? They were holding hands?” Taneo said, straightening up from his stooped position while talking to Kenta. “Well, that’s okay for them to do since they’re both adults.” Despite that, Kenta made a face.

He pointed in the direction that you had left in. “And you said that you saw them go this way, right?”

Kenta’s mom nodded. “They mentioned something about a convenience store.”

“Thanks for the scoop, kid,” Taneo grinned. “You too, mom and dad!”

He could already hear Juzo News’ editor-in-chief singing praises about this juicy story.

–

“Do you really not want it?” Shouto asked as you settled on the bench. His guess was correct. You’d still be able to see most of the fireworks from here.

“Really,” you said, handing it to him.

The corn dog you could resist, but the popsicle? Nothing sounded more refreshing than its cherry coolness on your tongue. Your escape from the main grounds of the festival had left you parched, and you didn’t think any of the drinks could satisfy you the way your favorite summer treat could, especially in this humidity.

“Has anything been bothering you today?” He asked bluntly.

Food was how you showed your love, insisting on the first date that that was how people were truly able to connect with each other. Your blatant rejection of two food items that Shouto brought you meant that something was wrong.

You paused, your drink hissing as you left it half-turned. Were you that obvious? He gave you that look with his eyes.

“Yeah,” you finally confessed. “It’s just that…” You finished taking the cap off your soda, taking a sip for courage. “It’s so dumb. It sounds even worse when I say it out loud.”

“It can’t be that bad,” he reassured you but didn’t press you further. He already thought of counters to any insecurity that you might have. You were gorgeous. You were smart. He wasn’t worthy of you. If you were worried about the media, he knew that he could ask for favors to manage that too.

“I’m self-conscious about putting phallic-shaped things in my mouth.”

“Huh?”

Your voice went up a pitch as you stumbled on your words, heat radiating from your body. “It’s dumb! I know, I know. But I can’t stop thinking about the face I make! And what if someone takes a picture of that? I can already see it, people making fun of me on the internet. Ugh, and what would they say about you? Shou, I–”

His laughter stopped you mid-panic as he removed his mask to breathe. “I don’t mean to offend you, but was that it?” You nodded, face still hot.

“It doesn’t change how you feel, but I love it when you–”

Your hand covered his mouth as you squeaked, “We��re still in public!”

“–especially when it’s my–”

“I’ll eat it!” You said, hoping he’d quiet down.

Quickly, you ripped the popsicle from its wrapper, half-melted from your neglect. Cherry red syrup dripped down your hand as you sucked on it. It left a stain on your mouth.

“I can’t stop thinking about that face you make now too,” Shouto said amusedly.

“Really?” You challenged, pointing the half-eaten popsicle at him. “You try doing this, knowing that someone could see you.”

His dichromatic eyes never left yours as he took it completely, using a combination of suction and his tongue to play with it. Artificial sweetness flooded his mouth as his lips were left cherry-stained. Taking advantage of your surprise, he pushed the stick from his mouth to lap at the syrup that ran down your hand, making sure to peck away at any redness.

“Show off,” you mumbled as you met him in a kiss. It was the only way that you could get rid of the popsicle stains.

–

Admittedly, it took Taneo longer to find Shouto than he’d like. He’d almost given up on it too until he spotted you two on a bench. His days of photographing for a paycheck were long gone as he focused more on journalism. Still, he knew a good shot when he saw one. His eyes zoomed in, waiting for an opportune moment before turning away to let the photograph develop. He just hoped that you two would still be there.

When he checked again, the fireworks were nearly over, smoke trailing up the sky.

“Shouto!” He called out from a safe distance. When the pro-hero didn’t react, he dared to venture closer, holding up his hands in front of him as a gesture of good faith.

“Do you know him?” You asked, not recognizing the strange man.

He shook his head. “He doesn’t seem trustworthy though.”

“Guess you don’t remember me,” Taneo laughed. “Figures. It’s been over a decade since we last met in person. I visited your dorm back in your U.A. days to do a report after the Kamino Incident.”

When he received a blank stare, he laughed–nervously this time. “Oh, you really don’t remember, do you?”

“Is there something you need?” Shouto asked, taking care to step in front of you.

Taneo clicked his tongue. “Right, right. I should have opened up with that first. Here–” he said, shoving something into his hands. You peered around Shouto to see it.

It was a picture of you and Shouto laughing on the bench, his body was turned towards yours as you squeezed his hand. You had just broken apart from your make out session, finally laughing at the absurdity of today.

“I followed you here in hopes of reporting on something interesting,” he admitted. You and Shouto stiffened. “But the shot was too good. The lighting, the mood. You could really feel the love between you. So keep it. That picture’s yours.”

“You’re not going to expose our relationship?” You asked, still cautious.

He shrugged. “Nah. Call it a change of heart, or if you can’t believe that, then know that I’m too professional to report on such low-hanging news. This wasn’t the story I originally came for anyway.”

Shouto held onto the photograph as if he feared that Taneo was lying.

“Oh, and before I go, here’s a suggestion. It might be easier to announce your relationship on your own terms and time.”

He grinned. “And if you decide on that, would you mind giving me a call?” He tucked his business card beneath the photo and Shouto’s thumb.

Rest's Main Masterlist / Todoroki Masterlist

#todoroki shouto x gn!reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha x reader #rest writes #prettyboysummercollab

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judesmoonbeauty · 5 months ago

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Blog Announcement/Update ☾.

EDIT: There was an update posted after this one. Please read it.

To start, please let me genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Your encouraging words that you’ve re-blogged, DM’d or shared with me outside of Tumblr have really been a soothing balm. I am truly humbled and grateful. Overall, we have an amazing community here, and I enjoy interacting with everyone in the fandom!

After much thought and deliberation, I’ve decided that I will continue translating and posting on Tumblr. However, I am still exploring the option of other platforms, but I will be here indefinitely.

I made my mind up earlier today when I was translating a collab story for myself, and I just couldn’t overcome the feeling that I want to share with everyone what I am able to, especially when I know there are some who particularly love this suitor. That was the entire point of this blog….well, what it ended up morphing into.

I thought to myself, “It’s not fair to withhold this gold from others.”

And when I got home, I was surprised by a DM I received from a blogger who presented evidence that my post(s) had indeed been reported. I am exceptionally grateful to that person who has put my mind at ease, and though I submitted an inquiry to Tumblr, who knows when I’ll hear back from them. So, that was perfect timing!

Further, how the hell could I call myself Mrs. Jazza, if I let someone who clearly has nothing better to do with their lives to have the final say? There. Is. No. Damn. Way.

The Jazza's don't give up - EVER.

I won’t go on a tangent like I did the other day, but if you don’t like what someone posts, then block them, don’t be whatever you are and report other people. If you don’t like me, block me. I don’t care. I’ll block you too if you want, just let me know.

In any case, this is how things are going to go with regards to current WIPs and re-posts.

Current WIPs will take priority.

Reposts will currently go as follows: Jude’s Bond Level 27, Ellis’ CE Story and Master List will be entirely recreated and reposted, followed by the remainder of Jude’s Bond Levels, and finally the Body Swap Story.

For the re-posts, I will not be tagging those in my tags list. You’ve mostly like read them anyway, and I don’t want to bombard you.

Could I maybe ask you all for a favor pretty please?? If you happen to notice anymore posts of mine being "sent to heaven", would you mind DM'ing me or sending an ask to notify? I'd really appreciate it!

Since I don’t know who is reporting my posts, I will most likely have more of my other translations deleted, if that happens, they will be reposted. If I have CGs I will try to post the stories again with those, otherwise, it’ll just be the story itself.

I will begin Jude's story and then translate Nica's end thereafter.

Now, I wasn't a mopey baby the entire day, so I'll post somethings that I do have prepped now......

#blog announcement #blog updates #Keep coming at me. I'll repost as much as you report.#c's corner #Ciele's Rambles

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writefightandflightclub · 10 months ago

Text

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Nine (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: Shorter chapter this week (be warned, next week's will be the heftiest yet), but I hope you like this next instalment! It's really gearing us up for the FINAL TWO! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. If you've read this far, THANK YOU! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.8k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Today is a new day. It’s a new day and you’re done crying. You’re done holding on to anger and resentments.

Besides, you feel as though you gave Santiago everything you had last night, and - at least for now - there is nothing else left to give.

So, instead of wallowing, you plod downstairs to where Frankie is stationed in the kitchen, offering up your favourite pastries, coffee, and even pulpy, freshly squeezed orange juice. You pull up to the breakfast bar, hopping up on a stool to survey your extravagant pity platter.

It’s true then. “He’s gone.”

Frankie nods solemnly, leaning into the other side of the island like he’s a sympathetic bartender in some old Western flick. He claps his palm to your shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I’m sorry, chiquita.”

You shrug.

His face twists. That’s not all there is. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but…”

“What, Frankie?”

“He had to bounce but he didn’t want to wake you. Said you looked far too peaceful sleeping for him to come along and fuck that up.”

Your brow notches, absorbing all of that with a contrived neutrality. “How did he… seem?”

Frankie’s eyebrows raise lightly as he ponders, thinking back over prior events. “Calm, actually. Happy, even.”

“Hmm.” You smile softly to yourself. Makes a change from lately to hear that. You get it though. After last night, you can’t feel anything else either. Even if he technically didn’t say goodbye in words, you get it. You aren’t mad. Chances are one or both of you would have fucked it up this morning. This way at least, it leaves the night you spent together untarnished. Makes it feel like holding on to a good dream, before the realities of the day can set in and make things fraught.

Frankie’s face crumples with concern as you gaze wistfully into the middle-distance. “You gonna be alright?”

You pump your eyebrows. Search yourself for feelings. “You know what? Yeah. I am. I’m okay.”

Frankie’s eyes glint playfully then. “Oh. So you won’t need alllll o’ these yummy pastries?”

You laugh as he eyes the pain au chocolat pointedly. “Get stuck in, Morales,” you invite fondly, and he obliges, scraping up a stool and wiggling on his ass until he’s comfy.

“Hey. So,” he says through mouthfuls. “Did you two figure anything out?”

You groan at the sheer complexity of Frankie’s simple question. Did you? Or are you still going around in circles? “We know we love each other. The rest? Uh. I still don’t know.”

“He’ll get there.”

You puff air out from between your teeth.

“You don’t think so?” Frankie interprets.

You wrap your arms around your middle. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t think it was all on him.” You don’t have any blame or accusations left. No grudges to hold on to - your hands are open. You’ve both made mistakes. Manufactured this distance, in your own ways - sometimes literally, sometimes not. You were both just trying to figure all this out as best as you could.

Frankie’s brows notch and rise with a silent question. How so? What do you mean?

The thoughts form as you speak them. Clumsy yet intrepid. “I guess... It just feels like we were… Both waiting for the other person to get somewhere, you know? But this whole time, we should’ve been heading there together. Otherwise, how the fuck were we supposed to know where to end up?” You slide a palm over your face. “Christ. Does that make any fucking sense?”

Frankie ponders. “I think so. Like trying to meet on the highway without a time or a place or directions?”

You reach out and clasp his hand. “You get me, buddy.”

Frankie blinks, tangling himself up further in your metaphor, but valiantly trying to muddle through. “And so… do you…?” He scratches his chaotic mop of hair. “Do you have a map now? A meeting point? I mean… What happens next? On the highway?” Your mouth lilts into a gentle smile at Frankie’s earnest question. He notes and feeds your amusement, going off the deep-end with this metaphor now. “Are you driving in shifts, chiquita? Grabbing cheez-its for the road?”

You laugh, the musical sound mingling with Frankie’s throaty chuckle. “What happens next?” You repeat the question out loud, carefully, posing it to yourself. Hasn’t that always been the question? However, the very sentiment which used to scare you now feels a lot more like potential. Like possibility.

Still, you feel -for the moment- like leaving that question hanging. You leave a pregnant pause. You let it breathe.

For now; you let it go. You let him go.

“Where are the other guys at, anyway?”

Frankie rides your tangent with ease. “Packing shit up.”

“We should help them.”

“Yeah, we should,” Frankie grins mischievously, and yet neither of you make any effort whatsoever to mobilise.

Instead, Frankie pours you a cup of coffee from the pot.

“You wanna call off the hike today?” he asks hopefully, Frankie increasingly a creature of comfort.

“No. Hell no. I need to move.” You lock your fingers and stretch your arms above your head, a satisfying stretch extending down your spine.

Frankie’s eyes sparkle across at you. “Just not in aid of helping the Millers pack their trunk, huh?”

“Exactly! What did I tell you, bud. You get me.”

You do though. You need to move. You need to move forward. No more standing in place. No more moving in circles, always repeating.

Still, when you think about it. When you think to what is ahead, to what is next, your stomach drops. You feel overcome by a sudden anxiety which you can’t place at first. Like having misplaced something dear to you. Like having done something wrong but not being able to recall exactly what. Then, all of a sudden, you understand it entirely.

“Listen. Tell me about this job, Frankie.”

He immediately tenses up. “What job?”

You take a bite of your pastry. “The one with Lorea’s cash house.”

Frankie simply groans. He always knows more than he lets on, this one. About everything. Everyone.

“Is it true? That you and the boys are in?”

You can plainly see his reticence to respond. But you know for a fact that he’s about to cave.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“They need a pilot,” Frankie states, looking up at you with guilty, puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck me. He dragged you back in too, huh? You know… Sometimes I wonder if any of us are good for each other.” Your tone grows mildly irate, your heart quickening, but you recognise it for what it is. It’s simply anger veiling worry. You love these boys.

“Come on, don’t say that,” Frankie bargains. “We’ve dragged each other out of hell.”

“And back again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath. His tongue pokes around the meat of his cheek. “He says it’s simple recon. In and out. No mess.”

You jut your chin up. Stare at him levelly, unblinking. You know that Frankie will give it to you straight. Know that he can’t help himself. “And you buy that?”

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“Not for a fucking second.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Not when it comes from Santiago, no. After all, you’ve fallen for Santiago’s bullshit plenty of times yourself. It’s the fact that Frankie would wander in with his eyes wide open to it that really gets you. It’s something else.

Still, before you can chastise him for being so stupid, Frankie glumly offers up some explanation. “Look. I need the job. I… I got my license revoked.”

Your heart drops - and your face with it. Your hands clamp over your mouth. “Frankie,” you say softly, with empathy. “Fuck.”

He hunches in on himself despondently, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, his fists clenching and his gaze cast downward. “I fucked up, man. Cassie has a baby on the way and I fucked up.” His eyes swim with a deep shame.

“Coke?” you venture, tentatively.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Slowly, he nods.

“Frankie.” Your hand swipes over your face, and your eyes fill with concern for him. His palm waves in the air, however, quickly dismissing any sympathies you may care to bestow.

“I’m back on track. Getting there. I am.” His eyes are nothing but determined. Sincere. “But I need this gig. No matter how fucking hare-brained a scheme that pendejo is cooking.”

“Think of the baby, dude.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Frankie says forcefully, in a harsh tone he rarely uses, and you know in no uncertain terms that the conversation is done. That he’s made his mind up, and that he won’t hear you out any further on the matter.

You swallow. Regroup. You chew on some platitudes, but none of them feel quite right.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frankie says after a stretched, tense moment. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay,” you jostle his shoulder, and it shakes a little of the tension from him and the room. “I get it. And shit. I’m sorry for putting all of my bullshit on you this weekend. I wish you’d said something, Cat.”

He shrugs. Speaks with finality. “There’s not much to say. It’s done. I just need to make it right. And I will.”

“I believe it. But you do know that I’m… If you need… Anything, Frankie.”

He looks up at you then, the warmth back in his eyes as your voice cracks, searching for the words. But, he already knows everything you could ever say. You’ve said it before, a hundred times. He knows you love him. Knows you’re proud of him. Knows you’d do anything for him. Knows you want the best for him. He knows it already.

In turn, you are sure that he already knows everything you could possibly call him out on. That he’s already thought about it. Weighed it up. Thought about the risks. About the possibility that he’s acting out of desperation. The possibility that he’d probably be better off staying the hell away from Pope’s schemes.

He scrapes his stool back and comes to you, bundling you into a tight, warm, big brother hug. You tug in a deep breath, and you let it go. You’re done trying to control everything around you. It never really got you anywhere.

Still, there’s an undeniably uncomfortable knot in your chest as you think about them all gearing up. Strapping on their tac vests. Shoving clotting pads into their med packs. It makes you feel physically ill. And so, you can’t help yourself. “Do me a favour, Frankie? Don’t take Tom?” You muffle the words into his shirt, half hoping they will get lost there. That maybe he didn’t even hear you. But, you know when he braces his hands on your shoulders to get a good look at you, that your game is up.

“Why not?”

You see it then, in his eyes. That Tom is not a risk Frankie has considered. His presence not something he has weighed up.

You deliver your words as plainly and transparently as possible. “He’s too hungry, Cat.”

Frankie simply locks eyes with you, as though trying to weed out your motives. Shrewdly trying to assess your conclusions. Is this just your petty vendetta talking? Is this intelligence? Is this coming from your gut?

“Please. Just trust me.”

“I do,” he nods eventually, but you should know better than to feel any relief. And next, there it is. “I do but it’s not my call.”

Well. You’ve said your piece. You guess that’s all you’ve got. Absent-mindedly, you tug on Frankie’s lapels. “You’d better come back to me, Cat,” you plead plaintively. “And by God, you’d better bring those other fuckers back with you to boot.”

With a wistful affection, Frankie tugs you to him again and you stand there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the other guys evident in the background. In time, you and Frankie release each other and gravitate towards them, tucking yourselves under the porch to survey their efforts packing up the trucks.

“We should probably help,” you repeat again, and, to your side, your hear Frankie’s murmur of agreement. However, when you glance to him you see his long, lean frame stretched out up against the wooden porch post. He looks like a man with nowhere else to be in a hurry.

“Fuck,” he curses at nothing in particular, surveying the animated bodies of his buddies before him with both awe and trepidation. “How did we get here? Years of service and none of us have anything to show for it.”

That’s a Santiago sales pitch, through and through, you reckon. You recognise his propaganda. Funny, since he used to swallow the flag for breakfast. Is that how he got to him then? Convinced Frankie he could finally make bank? Take what he deserved? Ah. Or give his family what they deserved? Frankie is all about family.

A sad smile twitches your mouth. “Well. That’s not entirely true, is it? Not nothing.” You think of what you’ve gained from all of this. “I got a gaggle of weird ass brothers. A suitcase full of trauma. A fucked back. And! An array of unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

Despite the darkness of your statement, Frankie’s eyes crinkle. What else is left to do but laugh, anyway? “Maybe Will should put that in his speech.”

You belly chuckle at that, moving to lean up against the opposite post. “Yeah. Scare those poor recruits off before they can end up like us, huh?”

Frankie looks wistful again. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

No. It hasn’t. He’s not wrong about that.

You ponder on it. If you could go back and change your path - would you? But, despite everything, your squad would be far too much to lose. “Sure. The weird thing is, as shitty as it’s been at times? I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

There is a beat, and Frankie reaches out across the space between you and wordlessly clasps your hand.

“Listen. You gonna be okay, Frankie?” He looks down at his worn sneakers, contemplatively, as though he really doesn’t know the answer yet. You give his hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that’s okay. “We’ll talk more, okay?”

He nods - a subtle, concessionary thing, like maybe he could really do with that.

“I get why you didn’t tell me. But I’m sorry. That I didn’t do a better job of asking.”

“It’s not on you,” he says generously. A little too generously, in your estimation. You’ve been rather wrapped up in your own shit. A little too self-involved. “I know I can talk to you. I just… I, uh. Didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” The irony of that statement causes a throaty chuckle to bounce in Frankie’s neck, and your palm slides over your face in regret even as you laugh in reciprocity.

“Christ. I did a great job of that all by myself.”

“Well,” Frankie says good-naturedly, shifting to bump your hip with his. Wrapping his crooked arm over your shoulder. “You had some help.”

It is your turn now to look wistful, as you contemplate the storm that is Santiago, and all the rubble he left behind. “He’s really gone again.” Frankie simply squeezes you a little tighter. “Hey. Anything else I should know, by the way?” you needle. “You’re not holding out on me?”

Frankie sucks air through his teeth. “Tom and Molly. She finally served him papers.”

You fold forward, hinging to collapse your upper half onto the porch rail. “Fuck. Shit. I really need to start being nicer to that shithead.” Still, from behind, Frankie’s familiar chuckle buoys you, even as you inwardly berate yourself for getting wrapped up in your own business. “We’re all messes, huh, Frankie? Do you think we can fix it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I do.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

You toss him a soft, grateful smile, which extends as Will makes his way over to your position, greeting you “Hey, slackers!”. You and Frankie share a conspiratorial glance.

“All set for the hike, Captain?”

“No thanks to you.”

“I had an alternate mission. Ranks of pastries to deplete.”

Will feigns tiredness, but his baby blues sparkle even as he rolls them.

“Anyway. Didn’t need you. All set to head out as soon as you slackers get your act together. You wantin’ to do the usual route, hon?”

You brace your arms against the porch rail. Dig your fingers into the wood. “No,” you say, the words a little tight in your chest, but they feel good. “Not today. There’s somewhere else. Somewhere I always wanted to go.”

Somewhere new.

“Fine by me,” Frankie offers. “Just let me grab more pastries.”

***

You relish the hike, when it comes. You relish walking a path that is -to you- entirely untrodden. That he can’t touch. You walked the old, familiar trails for too long, and the only place it ever got you was right back where you started.

The bullshit ends here. You’ve decided.

And so, you turn your attention away from your sun, and to the wider constellation of stars around you. To yourself.

You even do your best to make peace with Tom. To put old grudges to bed.

You relish the hike. Enjoy the undulating landscape. You don’t know for sure what’s next, or where you’re going, but the difference is that for once, that feels okay. Full of potential.

You walk until your legs burn, and when you get to the summit you take a moment to drink in the crisp, clifftop air. To look out across the ocean. To see it from a distance and to know that this time, it cannot break you over and over and over.

Still, when you’re at the top, as if by providence, Santiago texts you.

“Hey. Sorry I had to take off early. I wanna say… Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the best night of my life.”

“Ah. Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, and you press the button to call him. You immediately call him. He immediately picks up. “Hi.”

”Hi. What’s up? They just announced my gate.”

”That’s okay, I’ll be quick. I, uh. I just needed to tell you too. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For a proper goodbye.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I-”

“-I’m not mad, Santi. I think… I think we said everything we have to say, right? I think it was…”

”…Perfect?”

”Yeah. Yeah, pretty perfect.”

“Listen. It’s selfish, but. With everything coming up. The Lorea job and… I needed it, you know? Needed that image of you sleeping.”

There’s an ache in your chest and it’s bittersweet.

He cares for you in every way he knows how, doesn’t he? In every way he can. He’s not perfect, but hey, neither are you. You’re both a little bit broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal. And most of all, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love while you’re doing it.

One day, he’ll turn up at your door, and he’ll be welcome. Whenever that is. Whenever it happens. But until then, you can’t just wait for him.

Until then, you’ll love him; from a distance.

No longer can you leave him in anger. No longer can he break you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Maybe one day, that will even be enough.

“Would you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Come back and visit soon, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

You conclude the call, and you stretch your arms above your head. A pleasant tingle snakes down your back as it cracks. You haven’t felt so relaxed in a long time. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such peace.

The path that you are walking is yours, and you implicitly trust where it’s taking you.

***

You are grateful to slip into the passenger side of Frankie’s car, beginning the drive back to the city and signalling the end of your stay at the beach house. Still, there is something bittersweet there too as you leave behind the site of so many memories from over the years - and now, the site of your most perfect night with Santiago.

It reminds you of all you’ve been through. The ups and the downs and plenty of things which went sideways. You are starting to realise though, that perhaps the landscape of love is undulating. That sometimes the terrain is tough. It shouldn’t have been quite so tough though - so steep and unforgiving; and so, you hope for gentler, easier paths ahead.

It is bittersweet then, as you leave this place behind.

As you look forward, having said goodbye. As you wrestle with your past, future, and present.

Frankie swings the car out and onto the highway, the Millers up ahead and Tom behind, your vehicles forming a convoy through the dark, the glow of headlights illuminating the route ahead.

You sit in silence, eyes and thoughts unfocussed, in abstraction, as you watch vague shapes and colours slipping by the window, your own face occasionally reflected right back at you. You look older than you used to. More tired. But you don’t dislike that.

After a while, Frankie’s robust voice slices through the dark, his eyes on the road and hands threading the wheel. “I don’t know if this will make things better or worse but… Do you want to hear it?”

You swivel your head towards him, fractured, liquid panels of light slipping over the planes of his face as your surroundings pass by in a haze. “Hear what?”

“Pope’s heartbreak playlist?”

Your hands dig into your thighs where they rest. “Do I?”

“Well?” Frankie asks, his finger poised over the button, and evidently not willing to make that decision for you.

“Yeah. Fuck it.”

You brace a little, in all honesty. A tightness takes hold of your chest as you wonder if the first track to befall your ears might be angry. Resentful. Full of blame or sadness that you can’t hope to wrestle with and come out on top. But, as the first notes of the track sound out, you are surprised to find a full, unfettered laugh rises from out of your throat. The tears swell in your eyes next, for it is nothing if not bittersweet.

“That dickhead. I can’t believe…”

You can’t believe it. The fact he has chosen a song which reflects your life together? Which reveals a happy memory?

He loves you, doesn’t he? He has for a long time. And you can’t help but hope that maybe one day, that will even be enough. For tonight though, it will definitely do. You’ll take it. You’ll treasure it.

“Whiskey in the Jar,” Frankie scoffs as he catches on to the song, even if his fingers are drumming against the lip of the wheel involuntarily. “I mean. What the shit’s that all about? He’s a weird kid, I swear.”

“Frankie,” you laugh brightly, turning once again to look wistfully out of the window, as the view of the beach house and the ocean recedes into the distance. You catch another glimpse of yourself in the pane, and this time you look younger, you think. More alive. “Did I ever tell you about that night in Philadelphia?”

#santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac #ride or die series

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infinityyrp · 4 months ago

Text

Muse List: Teen wolf 🐺

☆Sundina Gloriana Deaton-Villanueva (TW/BTVS/shadowhunters OC)

☆Mieczyslaw 'Stiles' Stilinski

☆Isaac Lahey

☆Kira Yukimura

☆Malia Hale

☆Vernon Boyd

☆Romeo Bennett (TW/TVD OC)

RULES and what I'm looking for:

☆Always looking for partners.☆

•25+ MDNI.

•All Muses 21+, mature and dark themes will be present. Looking for MXF or FxF Roleplays, with me in the F role for mxf: I NO LONGER DOUBLE UP! I PREFER THE FEMALE ROLE DUE TO UNFORTUNATE EVENTS OF PARTNERS NOT BEING EQUAL AND TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME AND MY MALE MUSES.

☆My Muse for my OC is always high: Replies, posts, and starters for her will be rapid fire. Medium-high activity.

♧My Muse for my cannon characters vary: so that means replies, posts, and starters for them will vary. Medium-Low activity.

•Looking for a partner to play as Derek Hale and Scott McCall: I am okay with Genderbent!F Muses for them as well! (If you need ideas for FC's I have a few in mind.) Please actually enjoy it and want to play them as well. It's not fun for anyone if both parties don't enjoy it.

•Looking for Clark Kent from Superman and Lois:

•Looking for a Faith Lehane from BTVS: My main OC has a slayer verse. She was a potential slayer (unfound) and when Willow did the slayer awakening spell, she arose to the occasion.

•Looking for Tasha Williams from The L word: But make it supernatural

•Looking for Angel Reyes from The Mayans: But make it supernatural.

•Looking for Ricky Underwood from SLOTAT: but make it supernatural.

•Looking for Jace Wayland from Shadowhunters: Post series.

•Looking for Zade Meadows from Haunting Adeline:

•Looking for Zeke Landon from manifest: But make it supernatural.

•Looking for someone to make an OC out of Devale Ellis.

•Looking for someone to make an OC out of Taye Diggs.

•Looking for a MALE OC of YOUR choice if the chemistry is there!

Thank you! ♥️

•Looking for all other cannon characters for platonic interactions— potential romance:

•No guarantee on interactions: just because you send a starter to me or reply to one of my open starters, does not mean I will reply to you. I will kindly decline a roleplay if I don't vibe with your style. I will never ignore you though, that's very rude and disrespectful. You will get nothing but kindness from me and I expect the same in return.

•Semi-selective.

•NOT GHOST FRIENDLY: Please be an adult and communicate the issue so we can either change things up or part ways respectfully.

•Mun is 29 almost 30: I am an adult and want to be treated as such. Drama will not be tolerated, if you can't respect me, you will get blocked.

•This blog is for entertainment purposes only: It's purely fiction and is supposed to be fun. I'm not here to fulfill some fantasy that you have, I am married and a mom and write for the storylines. Nothing more.

•No god-modding.

•Respect my limits and triggers and I'll respect yours:

No rape, pedophilia, blood incest, heavy mentions of abuse, heavy mentions of death, extreme gore, and bathroom play. Those are my HARD no's.

•My preferred method of roleplay is on Discord. My UN is: infinityyrp

TUPPERBOX IS A REQUIREMENT.

•I will roleplay here if need be.

•I prefer the female role, with the exception of my side/background male cannon characters.

•I will not accept anything less than a paragraph: Though my motto is always quality over quantity.

•I enjoy text style roleplays from time to time: Especially when things get busy for me/us.

•50\50 smut and story: Fluff will be kept at a minimum. I enjoy drama of all kinds(cheating, love triangles, double life, pregnancies, one night stands.) The list goes on. If that's not your cup of tea, then I'm not the partner for you.

•please be POC friendly: my main OC is a woman of color— Alan Deatons daughter.

•lgbtq+ friendly.

•I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but I do have the right to decline a roleplay, just as you do.

•Communicate effectively.

•Please be consistent: Consistency is key in my book. If I'm waiting days for a reply (without communication), I lose interest. I understand life happens, I have a job m-f, but I also know most of us have our phones on us at all times, and it literally takes 2 minutes to send a message explaining your absence. I WILL leave a server after 7 days of inactivity and no communication. Sorry not sorry.

•Please be willing to talk ooc and be enthusiastic about our stories: I like to make Playlists and plot and talk about our ships and be friends outside of the roleplay.

•Most important, have fun!

•Open starters will be in the comments: DM me about which one you like and I'll tag you in a starter on the TL or we can make a server on discord and go from there!

•You can add me on discord and message me anytime.

•My DMs are open for discussing potential partnership/plots.

•Kink friendly: Will discuss privately

•Taboo friendly: will discuss privately.

Are we besties yet?😉

Send an Emoji when you DM me to let me know you've read and understand my preferences and rules:

Thank you for your time! ❤️

Discord: infinityyrp

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joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago

Text

The Key To Your Heart - Track 4

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif by:@sh214

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

*! New warnings will be listed first !*

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: ~2.3K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi there! To those of you who have read and are still with me, THANK YOU! I love you all. I'm sorry that my chapters are taking longer and longer. Work has been a bit more hectic lately and I also just had some serious writer's block with this chapter. That being said, it feels a little rough and I apologize if its awful lol. But either way, thanks for hanging in there with me and please let me know what you think! Your comments make me happy!

__________

You groaned, stepping out of bed and drifting towards the bathroom. Your face was sticky and your eyes stung from crying late into the night. It was silly, naive, and frankly stupid… but sometimes you can't control how hard emotions hit. Seeing that Pedro didn't actually watch your video was a let down - to put it mildly. Obviously he's a popular guy. A star. He has better things to do.

You should be grateful he even responded to your Instagram message before. Even though it hurts, surely he has more interesting things to do than message someone like you. Just because you wrote a song and he said he liked it doesn't mean he owes you anything more.

So after a fitful night's sleep, you were utterly exhausted; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Luckily, it was still your weekend and you could rest today.

More like spend the day wallowing in your self pity… you think, disdainfully at yourself.

Looking in the mirror, you notice your puffy eyes. There's some new acne, and a mop of frizzy hair on your head. After using the toilet, you step on your bathroom scale before your shower; a morning routine you started during years of dieting. Another 3 pounds. Up again?!

You look in the mirror, pinching your stomach with a sigh. I guess I shouldn't have had those cookies yesterday…

The food guilt creeps up as you think of the goodies you've eaten recently. Cookies yesterday, fast food the day before. You were bitter that you weren't one of those people that could just magically eat whatever they wanted without gaining an ounce.

But you aren't, and you should know better.

Frustrated with your appearance, you begin your usual internal debate about how to fix it.

Maybe I should go back on the diet…

But the diet caused you so many problems. Remember the stomach issues? The hunger? The lack of joy? Binge eating on cheat days until you were sick?

But! I lost so much weight!

Yeah, until you started gaining weight…

Maybe I didn't cut enough. People said I looked so good. I was *almost* skinny.

Maybe people would like me more if I was skinny… Maybe Pedro would like me if I were skinny. There's no way he would be with me looking like this.

These were the debates that plagued you for months… years… a lifetime.

You showered, tears beginning to flow again as you tried to push out the thoughts. He was probably just busy, but either way you knew you didn't have a chance.

Your friends were right. You were an obsessed fan. It was… concerning, as they said. They pitied you when you felt sad about your feelings. Just find someone you actually have a chance with, they pushed. Someone real.

But... he did message you. Maybe he didn't even know you had an interview yesterday? Maybe he watched it later. You were being utterly ridiculous. It didn't matter anyway.

But what you didn't know was that Pedro felt just as disappointed. He wanted to be the one on your list. The one you loved. He went to bed just as mopey as you did and woke up just the same.

_____

Having washed away your bad feelings as best as you could, you gave Skipper a kiss on his little forehead and made some coffee while scrolling Instagram. You were nervous to see what people had to say about your interview, but you had to face the music eventually.

As you could have predicted, people were running through the potential suspects (or prospects, that is) who have brown curly hair and brown eyes. Some supported you and loved your interview. Others criticized you for being too chicken to show yourself.

You weren't used to this level of attention, and you really weren't sure you enjoyed it. But you were grateful to have your two lives kept separate, your true persona still shaded in privacy.

What you did not predict, was a notification popping up from Pedro, interrupting your scrolling. Forgetting to breathe, you immediately clicked on it. If the message were food from the oven, you would've burnt your hand the way you grabbed it so fast.

Perhaps I should've been a little more chill about opening this so quickly... Oh well.

Pedro Pascal messaged you: "Hey! I watched your interview yesterday. You did fantastic. I know fame is new to you and you're nervous, but you're a natural."

Your heart swelled. He did watch it!! He must have just been busy during the live stream.

You replied: "Pedro! You watched it!?! Thank you so much. That really means a lot to me."

Pedro read your message immediately, but instead of sharing in your level of excitement, he was hit with a wave of confusion instead. She must just be trying to not hurt my feelings. She already knows I watched it.. unless she didn't even notice my name. Or she didn't care enough to look for it…?

He decided to play along with it anyway. "Absolutely, I did. I've had it marked on my calendar since the day it was announced a couple days ago and watched it as it was streamed live."

His response took you by surprise, and then made you angry. If he really watched it, he would know that they gave you a list of the people who watched it live. Why was he lying to you about it?

You started to plan out your response, maybe even send an accusatory comeback, but then you thought about it again.

Why would he lie about it? What would he gain by lying? He messaged you.

With this in mind, you instead chose to take a different approach. One better designed for fishing. One you had to be very careful about, so as not to reveal the fact that you looked for his name.

"Wait!? You watched it live? I didn't see you on the list. You're one of the few people I've spoken to who actually seem genuinely friendly and interested in having a conversation with me. I had sort of hoped you were listening."

There. That doesn't sound too revealing, right? Totally friendly…

Pedro opened your message and was met with both confusion, and something else he wasn't expecting. Hope. Did you look for his name??

Still, he wanted to address the confusion. "You didn't see me on the list? That's odd.. but I'm sure there were a lot of names to scan through. Maybe my name was just buried in that list."

You knew it wasn't buried. He was the only name you looked for. The only name you cared about seeing on that list, not that you'd admit that to him right now. But you also didn't want him to feel that insignificant either.

"There were a lot of names, I'll give you that. But I swear you weren't there. Were you logged into your account? Maybe your Internet crashed, or you missed part of it?"

Instantly he remembered the ten or so minutes that Oscar interrupted him.

Oscar!

"Oh shit! That's it. Oscar barged into my house while I was watching it and I slammed my laptop closed."

"Oscar… Isaac? Wait, why did you slam your laptop closed?"

"Yeah, that's the one. And… I don't know. He just surprised me, I guess. It wasn't a planned visit."

Slamming your laptop closed is an odd reaction to your friend visiting, but okay, you thought.

"So you closed your laptop, and missed a few minutes. And that must have been the moment they pulled the list of viewers."

Pedro replied. "It must have. But I was there, more than happy to listen to what you had to say"

If my name had been on the list, would her answer have been different? When asked whether the man she loved was on the list and she said no, would my name have changed anything? Pedro wanted to ask you these questions. But he couldn't. Not only was he scared, but he also didn't want it to come off as some douchey comment that made you uncomfortable. He wanted to get to know you better, even if just as a friend, and he wouldn't let a silly little crush ruin that.

You sent a response that could be deemed as friendly or neutral, still cautious. "Thank you Pedro. I'm really glad you watched it."

He replied without hesitancy. "Of course. But, I am sorry that your guy wasn't on that list."

He sounds genuine. Not like he's fishing for information like everyone else on the internet. In turn, you decide to be playful with your response. Risky, but still not too revealing. "It's okay. It turns out that list wasn't as accurate as I once thought it was" you typed with a smirk.

"So maybe he was watching after all," Pedro answered.

"Maybe he was."

Pedro soon changed the subject, "I did enjoy hearing about your favorite things, though. You may know this already, but I love movies. Some of the ones you mentioned are a couple of my favorites as well. But as for your favorite books, I haven't read them, but I've been meaning to find a new book to read."

The fact that he was a reader made your heart flutter; the thought of him sitting with a book, his glasses perched on his nose, brow furrowed as he stroked his thumb over his lip in deep concentration. You were overjoyed at the thought of him reading *your* favorite book and potentially having someone to talk to about it. Before you knew it, you had frantically sent multiple excited messages.

You: "Oh! If you read any of my favorite books we HAVE to talk about them!"

Second message: "AGH the first book I mentioned is my favorite, out of all of them. The ending blew my mind. And the characters were just so amazing! Well except for that one guy.. but I won't spoil that…"

Third message: "But my favorite character has the greatest lines!!! Sometimes I like to quote it but nobody else gets it. And the way the author describes the settings is so magical, it makes you want to be there."

Pedro caught himself smiling at his phone, wrapped up in your excitement, as you were finally able to talk to someone about your favorite book. It was adorable how happy you seemed.

He started to type a reply when you sent another message. "Shoot… I'm sorry. I got a little too carried away…"

"Who told you that?"

Huh?

"Who told me what?" You asked.

"Who made you feel like you had to stop talking when you became excited about your interests?"

His question took you aback, but your mind struggled to pinpoint the answer to it. There's been so many people that have told you that over the years. People you assumed were friends. An old crush who didn't like multiple text messages at once. Classmates who would complain or make fun. It was routine.

"Oh. It's not a big deal. It's just something I've heard over the years. But I also know how I get and I don't want to be too much. I'm sorry. I don't want to monopolize the conversation too much either. But hey, you didn't mention, what are your favorite books?" You tried to change the topic.

Pedro felt that protective feeling bubble up in his chest again.

"Over the years!? There have been multiple occasions?" Pedro shook his head, even though you couldn't see through the text. "I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel that way or said anything to imply that your interests weren't worthy of being heard. Fuck them. They should be thankful that you shared your interests."

They should be grateful to hear your beautiful voice get so excited. To get to see your excitement and smile, Pedro thought to himself angrily. He hoped he could someday witness you getting excited over your interests in person too.

"Thank you Pedro. But really, it's okay. I know I get a little… obsessive and crazy, especially with sending multiple texts, so I don't blame them. Haha. :)" you tried to soften the mood.

"I don't want you to ever feel that way with me. I liked hearing you talk about your interests."

You began to type, but Pedro beat you to the punch.

"In fact… if you'd like to talk more," he gave you his phone number. "Feel free to text me, or you can call me too. I like talking on the phone, but I know not everyone does."

Holy shit. Is this real life? Did Pedro Pascal just give me his phone number? And ask me to call him?

Truthfully, your introverted self really didn't like talking on the phone. But the idea of talking to Pedro, hearing his voice on the other end of your phone was too much to handle.

What you didn't realize, was that Pedro wanted it just as bad.

Your fingers danced over your phone keyboard, trying to find the right words for a reply. What do you say when the love of your life (that you didn't think you would ever have a chance with) gives you his phone number?

Pedro watched anxiously as the three dot-dot-dots of typing appeared and disappeared over and over. His heart was racing, and he began to worry he may have overstepped this time.

Why did you give her your number? She's going to think you like her!!!

But you do like her, you idiot, Pedro berated himself.

He ran his hand down his face, waiting for your response in agonizing suspense. But instead of hearing the pop of a notification, his phone began to ring instead, an unknown number displayed on the home screen.

Wait… is that her? Is she CALLING me?!

He answered frantically, practically dropping his phone in the process.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Pedro? It's me.."

You heard him give a breathless laugh before answering with a gentle "Hi."

_____

Thank you for reading!! Let me know your thoughts :) More will be coming soon. I know this is a painfully slow burn lol. Thanks for being patient.

Next chapter! Here

_____

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #rpf #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal x afab!reader #key to your heart

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agentmarvel · 11 months ago

Note

🩷+👻+pregnancy

thank you for dropping a request! 🥰 this one got a little longer than i expected...

simon "ghost" riley x afab!reader

cw: pregnancy

prompt list here

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

You look at the trio of sticks on the counter, all bearing the same pair of pink lines, and your stomach sours. The symptoms were all there, yet you'd chosen to ignore them. Chalked it up to food poisoning or the stomach bug that was consuming the entire base. Never in a million years had you considered pregnancy as the answer; something significantly less irritating but wholly more terrifying.

Infinitely more terrifying, however, is the thought of Simon's reaction. It wasn't a subject you'd really broached with him, given you'd only been casually seeing each other for a few months between missions.

Knowing he was due back within a few days, you sent a simple text, asking to meet up as soon as possible after he landed. As usual, he didn't respond.

The idea became reality in the days that followed. You went through the gamut of emotions, really only cementing yourself in the notion after a medic friend got you in for an ultrasound to confirm what you already knew.

You were expecting the knock no sooner than it came. That same medic friend had warned you about the 141's return as soon as the helo touched down. When you opened the door, Simon stood in front of you, looking particularly nonplussed.

"Wha's happened?" he asks straight away, eyeing you with marked concern. You swallow and invite him in, offering a seat. His eyebrow hikes, but he accepts nonetheless.

Wordlessly, you hand him the sonogram. He stares at it blankly for a moment, only blinking, and you wish you could read his mind. After a few beats, he sets it down and looks to you.

"You sure?" You nod. "And it's mine?" Again, you nod.

His dark eyes lock on yours, and the silence is palpable. You consider giving him an out; you're keeping the baby regardless of his presence. He sighs heavily.

"I dunno how to be a dad," he admits. "Dunno how this all will work with the time we spend in the field. But if you're willin' to be patient with me, I'm willin' to try."

"Simon - "

"Can we stop faffin' about, now, though? Make this official? Dunno about you, but I'm not really keen on explaining that I knocked up the girl I sometimes see. Rather you just agree to be my girl, and we'll figure it out."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod x you #jj writes #unblock my brain prompts

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biccyssafespace · 4 months ago

Text

🍼 Welcome to my safe space .ᐟ

☁️ Blog introduction below the cut .ᐟ 🐥

Hello my name is biccy! before i start my intro take a look at my dni! and thank you for coming

DNI CRITERIA: tw for below & i block freely for anybody who makes me uncomfortable

N$FW K!INK G0RE anti-agere/age regression, non child friendly. basic dni; homophobic, transphobic, biphobic, xenophobic, islamophobic, etc. misogynistic, racist, ableist, discriminatory, weightshaming; bodyshaming etc. invalidates a persons pronouns / gender / identity. says slurs you cant reclaim, p*dophile, sexualizes minors/fictional minors/children. pr0shippers, c0mshippers, ships ab*sive/toxic ships, jokes about sexual crimes. ddlg/ddlb/mdlb/clg, supports or justifies etc any of these. wriothesley and/or dottore fans im personally uncomfortable with these characters due to personal reasons and would prefer if you dont interact!/nbr Vivziepop media fans (helluva boss, hazbin hotel). people who fetishize gay men or lesbians & please do not repost my posts with f/o, kin, id tags!/nbr

my DNI is subject to be changed/updated in the future.

also please dont use my creations unless its a request or you ask! like personal things i make for my blog

🍼 > I go by Biccy or any nicknames! im nonbinary and go by gender neutral terms ! my most used pronouns are they/them

🐥 } I’m not comfortable sharing my big age but i am a minor! my little age is 5-7

🍼 > I am Autistic, i experience verbal shutdowns and have hyperfixations! I’m Physically disabled and chronically ill. I’m a Trauma regressor and this blog is what i use to help me regress/cope while focusing on being a kid!

🐥 }

🍼 > tags: biccys moodboards, biccys stimboards, biccys requests, biccy talking. (currently trying out stimboards on my own not doing requests of them yet though)

🐥 } I am new to doing requests so please be patient with me and be specific with your requests! (ex: if you want a paci or not) i take Moodboard, (trying stimboards too!) Paci edit, DNI banner, “(character) protects this blog!” banner requests! (There may be more things added/things removed in the future so check back for updates!) also p.s if i never respond to your ask its cus i lost it :( please send another if its been almost a week and theres no response! , please note also im better at doing requests for characters/fandoms/media i know of so please bare that in mind, however feel free to request any!

🍼 > Please be aware i have anxiety and lots of trouble talking with people expecially 1 on 1! so please do not dm this account at all/nbr/nm if you have anything to say outside of requests too please keep it in the ask box!/srs

My blog is SFW ONLY and i will ignore anything otherwise.

^_^ My interests 🐣 . . . !

}- Splatoon, Pokemon, Ducks, MHA, Cats, Cookie run, Neon genesis evangelion, Animal crossing, Honkai star rail, Reverse 1999, Ocs, Octonauts, Bluey, Disney, My little pony, Apex legends.

🐤 < Im more likely to give better output with requests on fandoms im familiar with ! however i will take requests regardless of being on my interest list; despite…

}- Problematic

}- Genshin Impact

}- Ship related

}- Nsfw/Suggestive etc

}- My dni

}- MHA (Nothing bad i just don’t want to do requests for it!)

}- Real/Alive people

Finally thank you for stopping by my safe space!

^_^ I hope you have a wonderful time here. ☁️

Gif credits —> X 💭 X |

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agirlandherquill · 3 months ago

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seven sentence sunday

thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet and @lamuradex!

rules: share seven sentences

it may be tuesday but i've been itching to share the piece im working on, and this tag game is a perfect excuse for me to do just that!

so here's a little snippet from a little something i'm working on, as yet untitled, but that'll come in due course, it's also a fair bit more than seven sentences but i got excited and it felt like a crime to break it up

“I don’t want you praying.” His voice crackled through the thin panels of the walls. “So please, don’t.”

“Why not?” She watched his shadow move beneath her door, growing smaller as though he was walking away. He doesn’t want to answer? So be it. Her heart sank in her chest as she braced a hand against the door to turn herself away, and then his shadow was there, larger than it had ever been, and the door shaking beneath the pounds of his fist. Adalia pulled it open. “What, Lochley? Did you forget something?”

“My answer.”

“Spare me.” She went to shut the door and his boot slid in the way, blocking it. “Let me speak it and then I can promise you will hear nothing more of me, not tonight.”

Adalia was too tired to argue. “Fine.”

“I don’t want you praying because then you will never be speaking to me. I will never be worth those words, that respect, that devotion. I will have to hear you give that to another and I… I despise it.”

“You,” She gave him a tired look, “Are not supposed to care. You, need I remind you, are a pirate.”

“Then stop giving me reasons to linger on land.” He growled, fingers balled into fists at his sides.

“I am giving you nothing. I am simply working to take back what you took, what is mine.”

“So this,” He braced a hand on the doorway, leaning in, “Is all for a necklace?”

“What else would it be for?”

“I was hoping you would tell me.” Something lingered in his voice, something that made her shift on her feet, resting more of her weight on the door, not entirely trusting her knees to remain stiff and keep her standing. “Or what, Lochley? Because that sounds like there’s a threat.”

“There could be, Maiden, there very well could be.” His lips quirked into a smile and then he was skulking off down the corridor, disappearing into the dark, while Adalia stood there clinging to the door for dear life. For once, Adalia had to agree with him. And she hated saying he was right.

~ ~ ~

tag list time! open tag as always too!

@the-ellia-west @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @365runesofthesystem

@coffin-hopping @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @a-mimsy-borogove @frostedlemonwriter @i-do-anything-but-write

@r-u-living @thatuselesshuman @lead-to-code @sunflowerrosy @theaistired

@phoenixradiant @autism-purgatory @corinneglass @tiredpapergirl @patheticexcuseforawriter

@missmisanthrope @littlestchildofthemoon @morganxduinn @thebrownleathernotebook @rmhashauthor

@lamuradex @fantasy-things-and-such @glasshouses-and-stones @hattonthehatman @humbly-a-doppelganger

@ramwritblr @s-pendragon7 @thelastneuron @heartreactor @ihauntmyhouse

@shiningstars-world @scaewolf @just-emis-blog @joeys-piano @ramitola

@yrndrgn @riveriafalll @lawrencespen1777 @theverumproject @zackprincebooks

@justjariel @orion-lacroix @jupiter---daydreams @vinniehorrible @stars-forever

@thewritingautisticat @whatwewrotepodcast @anaisbebe @appleandsnow @urnumber1star

@chaotictravelerrants @andagii-projects @dragmewithyoutonirvana @a-bi-cat-with-books @fearofahumanplanet

@just-a-domesticated-cryptid @attemptingwriter @kitkins13 @ray-writes-n-shit

@theonewholivesinthemovies @rheas-chaos-motivation @bookwormclover

#writeblr #writing #tag game

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

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Alternative entertainment

AN: *Puts up hands defensively* I promise I don't just have Hyunjin in my drafts. This was just next on the list. Actually, it was a Chris fic, but it was getting too frustrating, so it was either delete it out of resentment or jump to the next one. Thus, we're here. My biases aside, I do think Hyunjin would really be into nipple piercings. This is also me pushing my tiddie enthusiast! Hyunjin agenda lol.

Synopsis: A movie night with the guy you've been seeing takes a turn you don't anticipate. Not that you're upset in the slightest.

General tags: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, they're dating but, not in a relationship (yet), Reader has her nipples pierced and Hyunjin's really into it.

Smut tags: hair pulling (m. receiving), dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), a handjob (m. receiving), Hyunjin cums on Reader's stomach and cum eating.

Word count: 3001 (why the fuck is this this long 😭💀 this was supposed to be a fun little like 1k drabble)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you knock on Hyunjin's front door. It's fine. It's just a movie night. It's just the first time you've ever been to his apartment. It's not a big deal in the slightest and, you severely need to chill the fuck out.

All of these mantras suddenly are nowhere to be found when said door swings open and your date's shy smile greets you. He's just wearing a simple, white shirt and some grey sweats and, it's all enough to make you feel as though your tongue weighs a tonne.

"Hi," he greets you, one of his dimples poking out. Oh god, you need to calm down. You don't need to give Minho more fuel for his 'you have it bad' teasing. Though he might not be wrong.

"Hey," you respond, pulling him into a hug once his door shuts behind you and his arms around your waist boil your blood in a way a hug really shouldn't.

"I have some snacks and drinks laid out on my coffee table," he says, "I wasn't sure what you'd like but, I tried my best and there's a pretty wide spread," the way he rubs the back of his neck urges you want to kiss him. So, you do.

You lean up to kiss his soft cheek lightly, "Thank you, Hyunjin. It's all more than enough." The two of you have kissed enough that this isn't too out of left field but, from the way his ears burn pink, you'd think this was the first time your lips have ever touched him.

"You have nothing to thank me for," he mutters, but he holds your hand all the same and tugs you along to his couch. You try your best not to stare too hard at his broad shoulders and the veins that run along his arm, ending at the fingers that wrap around your own.

"I still wanted to anyways. It's sweet of you," while you are being sincere, a more private part of you enjoys how easily flustered your compliments make the beautiful man. You'd learned very early on into going out with Hyunjin that he was more shy than one would expect. Which really only endeared him to you more.

The slight flush on his face prompts you to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across your face. This is Hyunjin. You had no idea what you were so nervous about in the first place.

You're trying to focus on the movie that's playing on his screen. Really, you are. However, playing with Hyunjin's hair as you spoon him and drawing patterns on him with your other hand is infinitely more engaging. You still pipe up with comments here and there from what your mind is able to latch onto to, but you've been thoroughly distracted for a good hour now.

It's especially difficult to pay attention with his hand burning an imprint into your thigh where it's made itself quite at home. Which is pretty bold for him. You've been the one that's had to swallow down all of your shyness in every step of this....whatever this is. You held his hand first, you hugged him first, and you were the one to initiate your first kiss.

Would it be too far to nudge him to turn over and kiss you instead of focusing on the historical film unfolding on the screen?

"Hey, is everything okay? You seem a little distracted?" He shoots you a concerned look, and you can't help feeling the slightest bit guilty.

However, Minho's annoying voice chooses now to ring through your skull:

Just go for it. This guy is obviously as into you as you're into him. Stop overthinking everything. Plus, let's be real he didn't invite you over to just watch a movie.

"No, no, I'm okay," you hurry out and search for all the confidence you can find, "I think I'd just- I'd just rather do something else instead of watch this movie."

Hyunjin blinks at you, "Oh, don't you like this one? You should've told me. I don't mind watching another one if that's what you want."

You very strongly resist dragging your hand over your face in frustration.

"No, Hyunjin I-" you take the plunge and elect to let your actions speak for you instead of stumbling over your words for an embarrassing amount of time. You lay your hand atop his that rests on your thigh, intertwining your fingers before leaning towards him, leaving ample room for him to stop you or move away.

You catch surprise in his face for a moment, but, to everyone's shock (except his probably), he closes the gap. His kiss is slow and so tender that it causes your heart to ache in your chest. His hand grips your tighter when you kiss him back just as tenderly. Unintentionally clenching your other hand that you completely forgot was in his hair.

He whimpers into your mouth, and you've never understood the desire to devour someone whole until now. He looks like he wants to run and hide or apologise to you for some godforsaken reason. You don't let him. Choosing instead to lick into his mouth and, moaning into him when your tongues come into contact with one another. Tugging on his hair to inspire more of those gorgeous noises of his.

The two of you separate to catch your breaths momentarily. Lidded eyes meeting each other with the sounds of your laboured breathing and the television droning on in the background being the only ones your brain registers.

"I'd much rather do this than watch a movie, yeah," he jokes, his stupidly plump lips spreading into a small smile when you laugh in response to him. "Same," you retort, massaging his scalp and delighting in the way his eyes flutter and he hums in appreciation. You're not sure who resumes the kissing but, you don't think it matters all that much in the grand scheme of things.

Speaking of things that largely don't matter, you somehow find yourself rolled onto your back. Clutching at those same shoulders you were trying (and failing miserably) at not staring at earlier. You've lost track of time of how long you've been kissing him, a different film playing on his screen while his hand toys with the ends of your hair.

"Can I touch you?" He whispers so quietly into your skin that you nearly miss it, but your muddled brain manages to catch it nonetheless. He must read your stilling in surprise as a negative because he looks like he's about to spill out a slew of apologies, but you stop him before he can fully spiral, "Yes, please," you whimper, dragging one of his large hands to rest on your ribcage.

The flush on his face is so adorable, and that prompts you to pull him down for another bruising kiss. Your tongue snakes into his mouth as he hesitantly shifts his hand higher and squeezes your breast gently. The pressure, while minimal, is pleasant. Only serving to add to the slickness that's collected at the apex of your thighs. You cling to him even more and moan into his sinful mouth, arching into his touch. For all his reservations, Hyunjin is a phenomenal kisser, and you allow your mind to wonder whether he'd be this talented with his mouth between your thighs.

"What's that?" He mutters against your mouth, giving your breast another, much heavier squeeze and running his thumb over your nipple. The sensation sends electricity through your body, and your hips grind against the thigh that's been slotted between your own. His name leaving you in a choked whimper. His face pinches in confusion, still trying to understand what the bumps he felt were while his cock twitches in his boxers from the way you grind on him.

"What's what?" You belatedly respond once you are able to adequately find the words. "This," he reiterates, dragging his thumb over your sensitive nipple again. You try to hardest not focus on his question this time around, "Oh, that's my piercing."

"Piercing?"

"Yeah, my nipples are pierced."

That stops his hands on you.

The fog in your mind dissipates a little when you notice he's stopped, his expression unreadable. Oh. Is he not into that? God, this is going to be so fucking awkward. It was just going so well too-

"If it's not," he clears his throat, his voice having dropped significantly, "if it's okay, can I see?" He asks, and when he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of saying no to him?

"Sure," you respond, gathering all of your resolve as you tug your shirt up until your breasts are exposed in the open air of his living room. Hyunjin just stares. He stares and stares and stares and keeps staring until it likely hits him that's maybe he's staring a little too long while you're left to stew in your thoughts.

"Fuck, I'm sorry they're just," he grapples with his words, "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

Would it be soon to admit that you're a little bit in love with him?

Shoving that insane thought aside, you smile up at him shyly, butterflies turning into dragons in your stomach as you watch him flush darker, "Thank you, Jinnie."

"You're welcome," he mumbles, sneaking shy glances at your chest as though you didn't tug up your shirt for him to gain a proper look at them, "I didn't know you had them pierced."

"Oh, I thought you noticed since I haven't worn a bra for like half of our dates. Maybe they're not as noticeable as I thought."

"I uh I try not to stare at your," you probably shouldn't find his floundering as amusing as you do, "y'know."

You choose then to cup his handsome face in your hands, giggling internally at the way his pouty lips form into a little o as you squish his cheeks in your hold, "Such a gentleman," you mutter before pulling him towards you for another passionate kiss that is more tongue and spit than anything else. His hands ghost over your breasts, not quite touching them, but the lingering is enough to pull whimpers from you and cause you to squirm against his solid thigh.

"Touch me, Jinnie. Please touch me," you're past the point of pretending to feel embarrassed.

His hands are on you in an instant. A mumbled 'fuck' swallowed by your eager mouth as he massages them in his hold. Experimenting with various pressures and squeezes and dragging his thumb along your hardened nipples until you're panting against him and tugging on his dark hair. Your hips jolt up into him when he tugs on them lightly, your panties starting to stick to you in a way that is a little uncomfortable, but you're too preoccupied to genuinely care.

"Yes, like that, Jinnie," you moan when he pinches them a little harder. His erection is hot and heavy against your thigh even through your respective layers of clothing as he shallowly grinds against you in search of any kind of relief. Your kissing has turned into little better than mutual moaning as you touch and feel and squeeze and tug. Hands gradually learning what the other enjoys. Drawing gasps and whimpers from one another.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans throatily into your neck with a particularly hard squeeze to one of your breasts and a drawn out rut against your thigh, "So sexy. Can't believe I get to have you like this. Such soft and pretty tits," he practically moans as he fiddles with one of your piercings. Your back bows into him, your pitchy whines echoing throughout his living room, "And your piercings? Fuck. As if your tits couldn't get any better," he grits out.

You suppose you can add this to the laundry list of pros of getting your nipples pierced.

"Hyunjin-Jinnie, you're so-" your words end in a strangled gasp as when his mouth attaches itself to your throat. Lavishing it with scorching licks and open-mouthed kisses as his nimble fingers continue to pinch and tug your sensitive nubs. A shiver coursing through your body when his teeth ghost over your pulse point. "Is it okay if I touch you too?" You ask in a rush as your fingers ghost over the hem of his shirt, "Please, Jinnie I need-"

"Fuck. Yeah. Yes, you can," and like that, your hands make immediate contact with his firm, warm abdomen. His muscles jump beneath your touch with every curious brush of your fingertips. He let's out shuddering breaths into your skin as your fingers familiarise themselves with as much of him as you can. With only some trepidation, you palm him over his sweats, and the length you feel causes your walls to clench hard around nothing. A dull ache settling between your thighs.

He whines. Full-on whines against you as you slowly drag your hand over him, his ears tinging red, and his blush drifts below the neckline of his shirt. His hips shallowly grind into your hand, his grip on your breasts grower harsher. Your established rhythm is interrupted when he litters kisses along your collarbone. Your breath hitching when he reaches your breasts, gingerly kissing the tops of them as he continues to ground his hips into your hand.

"So pretty," you don't think he means to say that out loud, but the compliment heats your molten blood all the same.

Not one to slack, your hand shifts to the waistband of his sweats. Sensing no signs of reservation on his part, you bite the bullet and slip it into his boxers. He nearly bites down on you when your hand wraps around him. God, he's so scorching and slick. The very real weight of him in your palm worsening the once dull throbbing of your pussy. Your fingers can't quite wrap around him but, that doesn't stop you. You stroke him leisurely, his moans being muffled into your skin and his hold on you tightening.

He groans in frustration before using one of his hands to tug his boxers and sweats down his thighs. His cock finally being free from its confines. Seeing it is significantly worse than just feeling it in your hand. Of fucking course his dick would be just as pretty as he is. Of course.

He snaps you out of your daze with a whine and a snap of his lithe hips. His red head leaking with pre-cum as he fucks your fist. There are a few veins you catch that run along his length, and you wonder what kinds of sounds he'd make for you if you were to trace them with your tongue.

They'd probably sound as exhilarating as the ones he's heaving into your breasts now.

You're too preoccupied with dragging your hand along his cock to notice the contemplative pinch to his brows. Thus, you're taken by surprise when his warm, wet mouth envelopes one of your nipples while his other hand is content to knead and toy with your other breast again. Soft gasps from you this time accompany the slick sounds of your hand stroking him. He curiously tugs on your piercing with his bruised lips, and the way you squirm is more than enough for him to gather that you enjoyed that. The vibrations from his groans adding to the overwhelming sensations.

You just hope you haven't soaked through your shorts by now.

His hips pick up speed while he happily continues to lap and suck your breasts. The sounds of them snapping into your hand coupled with the generous pre-cum dribbling out of his reddened tip twists and twists the knife of arousal embedded in your core.

You expected it but, you still blink up at him when he muffles a drawn out whimper into your chest and his cock pulses in your hand. Streaks of white decorating your hand and your stomach as you continue to stroke, albeit much slower than the pace you'd established. Maybe you're being a little sadistic but, the little noises he let's out as you continue to touch him are just so hot. How could you not?

His body shudders harshly above you as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm. His hand juts down to yours to stop your movements, "Too much?" you ask, and he nods against your chest. His chest still rising and falling quickly, his laboured breaths hitting your freed nipple as he tries to come back down to Earth.

"'M sorry," he mumbles while you remove your sticky hand from his softening cock. "You apologise too much," you laugh lightly, kissing the side of his head and stroking his hair with your non-cum stained hand. "What are you even saying sorry for?"

"Cumming all over you," he gestures to the few streaks on your stomach and your sullied hand.

"Oh, that? It's no big deal, Jinnie," a mischievous smile spreads across your face, "I actually think I like being covered in your cum." He watches you utterly shell-shocked as you bring your hand to your lips. His breathing coming to a stop as he laser focuses on the way you lick off his cum. It's a little salty but not unpleasant. You think you could get behind swallowing his cum on a regular basis if he'd let you.

If hadn't cum literally moments ago, he's certain watching you lap up his seed would've done it. His eyes heavy with want, and his bruised lips parted as you continue to clean up. He kisses you deeply when you're finally satisfied. Not caring in the slightest, or perhaps revelling in, that you'd just swallowed his spend.

Yeah, you should probably let your roommates know that you'd be a little late tonight. You'd just just block Minho for like a day if he was too boastful with his, 'I told you so.'

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#hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut

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