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hyewka · 2 years ago

Text

warnings. sub!tyun, noona!reader, desperate shit, degrading, use of whore/slut, handjob

flirt freshman!taehyun who, even if he looks polite and at times would even be described as cute, is definitely a heartbreaker. stringing along, fucking, then ghosting.

you see right through his nice guy act when he subtly hits on you, flashing you his white pearls, blinding smile that show off his dimpled cheeks and the way his eyes form into crescents, his simple charms almost, almost having an effect on you. but you know better, you’ve already passed this chapter of your life, getting yourself fucked over by cute assholes. so you reject any and all advances that he makes on you, even as so far as to completely ignore him whenever he addresses you in a group setting.

you wanted to protect yourself, because again, you knew better. but what you dont realize is how often your blatant rejections have been either straight up cruelly humiliating or just plain harsh to the younger boy. not until you’re stuck with taehyun as you awkwardly wait in the car for your friends.

“why dont you like me?” he starts, quiet as he looks out the window. you turn to look at him, a little astonished that he decided to confront you. then you quickly recollect yourself, clearing your throat.

“who told you that?”

he scoffs, a sneer retching his expression. “you’re kidding aren’t you? i don’t think i know anybody more repulsed with me than you. everyone can see it. you almost jumped out of the car when they told you i was going to sit in the back tonight.”

it’s like hes been keeping all of his thoughts behind a lock with how fast everything spilled out of his mouth and you take in a breath. “okay now that’s an exaggeration.”

“not really.”

then it falls silent again, hearing the distant horns of cars and you awkwardly shift. he’s right, its not.

then suddenly, his eyes shift from the window to you, and the eye contact catches you off guard, you can make out the slight furrow of his brows and the small pout that rests on his lips—you’ve never seen him look like that. you avert your gaze almost immediately.

but he’s still staring. and it has you nervously tapping your finger on your lap.

“i like you, noona.”

your eyes widen a little. not because of the confession, you knew it was coming eventually. something about this variation of gentleness with his voice that you don’t think you’ve quite heard…ever coming from a man has your heart beat just a little faster. noona? its nothing new coming from taehyun, but your hands still slight dig into the fabric of your skirt. “if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” he says bitterly with a non humored laugh.

you spend the entire night, staring at your blank empty google doc, wallowing in all thoughts related to taehyun. it kind of pisses you off that he’s managed to chip a little away from your wall, you usually disperse any thought that comes up in your head that has to do with him. but now you choose to give yourself a leeway, just a little to think over whether he was being genuine, and whatever happened in the car was taehyun serving his heart on the platter to be so…vulnerable, or if it was just the last trick up his sleeve to lure you in like a toy he can’t have.

but then you remember the little features—the way his brows slightly turned up, the way his bottom lip instinctively stuck out, just a tiny bit—the way his eyes twinkled, just somewhat, as cliché as it is to say, it felt genuine, real.

when taehyun sends you a text that night, with a string of other unread messages from weeks or days ago before it—you come to the conclusion that he likes you, really likes you.

sorry, ignore what i said today

i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me any more than you do

your heart swells a little, simultaneously feeling the guilt conscience slowly creeping up on you. maybe you really did misread him this entire time.

so imagine your surprise when the next time you see taehyun, a week later, it’s at a frat party, looking down at a girl clinging onto his arms with those same twinkling eyes, smile, dimples, gentle look—eventually laughing then biting down on his lips as he looks away, the red on tips of his ears making you fume more than you’d admit. you don’t know what it was, what exactly made you insane enough to stomp over to him in long strides, wobbly pushing through the drunks, seeing red as you grab taehyun by the arm when he’s of reach—the surprised look on his face only lasting for a second before you furiously turn around, dragging him away from the confused girl that he was getting way too flirty with.

he could’ve easily shaken off your grip, it was weak, but he followed, he let you take him, only when you push him in a non occupied room and lock the door does he finally say something.

“hey, what the fuck was that—”

then you go for it. throwing all logical justifications and reasoning, you pull him into you harshly by the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you don’t know what you expected, up to now it felt like you’ve been on airplane mode, but you know it wasn’t what taehyun returns. even if youre the one who came onto him first, he kisses back even more passionately, leaning into you, so quick to be receptive, hands going up to your cheeks as he lets you walk him hard into the door, latching onto your lips as if its a taste of a drug that has him hooked right from the first dose.

he’s so…desperate, it scares you, and turns you on at the same time. every time you try to pull away a little he reels you back almost immediately following your lips, the kiss becoming open mouthed as he breathes in and gets more and more messy, sloppy—he’s so sloppy, it’s the last thing you expected from him.

you finally manage to pull away, both of you catching your breath, with his lips glistening and red, mouth agape, chest heaving, up and down as he stares stunned.

“wha—um, so—fuck, sorry, no wait—” hes stumbling over his words. again, something taehyun never does. whenever hes spoken to you, it always felt so calculated, like every word hes thought over, because it felt so perfect. hes always collected.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you, with those god damn adorable brown eyes.

“kindly, shut the fuck up.”

his brows twitch a little, but he’s still silent.

your eyes search for something in his, you don’t know what, but it feels like you’ve gotten a green light, sighing. “i wanna fuck you.”

“shit.” he marvels, feeling his breath against your palm, his eyes still just as wide. you don’t know what exactly he’s thinking but if the dick already poking against your thigh was any indication, it was that he wanted it. really bad.

you slip your hand off his lips, then you whisper, fixated on how plump they are, “open your mouth.”

he blinks confused, hesitant until you take it upon yourself to rub your thigh against the tent in his pants, having him almost immediately buckle as he lets out a sinful groan. you should know he’s probably not into what you’re into, so you ease into it, testing the waters as you press yourself flush against him, rubbing your leg up and down against his clothed dick. “feel good?”

“y-yeah, shit, noona, please touch me.”

“i am touching you,” you swipe your hand over his bottom lip, fuck, they really are pretty. and so kissable. you’re shocked you haven’t kissed them sooner.

“no, i want your hand.”

you scoff, he’s so confident with what he wants, and so demanding. bratty. he’s probably so used to dominating. “this isn’t enough? me getting off your crusty dick isn’t enough for you? you’re feeling good, aren’t you?”

you press harder and with no consent of his own, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears running red again. your thumb slips into his mouth, easing into it, slowly, before you fully press on his tongue as the friction of your knees against his cock gets more and more frantic and torturous. “you tell me you like me then decide i’m not worth the headache, a week later you run off to another innocent girl you’ll try to break the heart of after getting your fill. someone needs to keep you in check for becoming such an asshole, no? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding him another finger in his mouth so he can’t retort like you know the smartass in him would do.

he sucks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue licking eagerly…fuck, how badly did you misread him?

but you can tell with the way his eyes involuntarily water, and the way he shakes his vehemently, he still has the audacity to deny everything.

you scoff, slipping them out of his mouth, string of his saliva coating your fingers and shoving that hand down his pants, promplty grabbing his dick, marveling at the soft, wet feel. he already spilled so much pre-cum—slut. he likes this.

“you don’t like me, you have no right to be jea—hahhh..fuck, you can’t be jealous, you c-can’t. shit, faster, faster please noona, noona…” he whines, delirious as he gets lost at the feeling of your hand, bucking his hips, clearly getting frustrated with how irritatingly slow you’re tugging at his dick.

“i don’t. i don’t like you. i don’t like slutty men who’re bad.”

he whimpers, and fuck does that noise have you pooling your underwear.

“how have i been bad? how? i’m always good to you, i always—”

you twist your hand a little and his head immedietely falls back against the door, mouth hung open as he lets out pathetic, needy pants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“like it? is it how you imagined it’d feel to have my hands wrapped around your cock?” you press, kissing down his jawline, hand letting out wet sounds as you jerk him off with more speed

“yes, yes, so much better noona, so much—” he chokes on his own words when you suck on his neck, feeling him let out shuddering breaths. cute.

when you use your other hand to trail up under his shirt, feeling up his muscle, you can hear him gulp, and for whatever reason, it turns you on even more.

“fuck, you’ve been trying to dom me, haven’t you?” he breathes out.

you let out an airy laugh out of your nose, grazing your thumb over his nipple, the hitch of his breath being your undoing. “i have been domming you—this entire time. what, don’t like it when a womans in charge?”

he shakes his head immediately, “no, no, i like it. i really do, i like it a lot. i like it when its you, noona.”

even when you have his mind sent to overdrive, he still knows exactly what to say to have your heart racing, it’s dangerous.

“hm?” you hum, throat dry, trying to forget the comment thats repeating over and over in your head. he likes it when its you. you scoff a laugh, “you really know how to get a girl going huh?”

“would treat you right. give me a chance noona, i’ll treat you like a queen.”

“a queen?” you laugh, then pretend to ponder on it as you play with his bud more, his dick leaking through your hand—he’s enjoying it all too much. “think would like goddess more.”

he moans wantonly when you thumb his tip, then transitioning to jacking off his shaft in frantic speed, it gets him delirious. “goddess, goddess, fuck—i’ll treat you like a goddess baby, swear.”

“sure you wouldn’t ghost me?”

his breath hitches again, head dipping into your shoulder, jaw practically hung open, mix of moans and whines spilling out of his mouth dumbly—who would’ve thought, huh? “never. so pretty, you’re so pretty and smart, and and—”

“such a slut, just want your dick touched and you’ll say anything.”

you feel him shake his head, still panting heavily as he grabbles onto you for support. he’s clingier than you expected, he holds onto you so often.

“faster…faster please, ‘m sososo close.” he sobs, his shaky breath fanning on your shoulder.

you chuckle, giving him what he wants, the wet squelching sounds heightening until he breaks. “gonna—gonna-” he spills before he could even finish his sentence, with a high pitched noise he cums in his pants, no doubt creating a big stain in the area of his crotch.

well, shit.

but when he lifts his head, a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over still, you think he might not mind all too much.

############

note. long overdue sub taehyun and a noona smut from me 🙏 did they fuck. no. will there be a future continuation of this au. perhaps.

#txt smut #sub!txt #sub!idol #taehyun smut #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #yeonjun smut

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sunshineyuyu · 6 months ago

Text

chained (c. jh)

★ summary: jongho wears a silver chain that you’re obsessed with, and you finally get his attention after some calculated flirting with yunho and some beer pong. ★ pairing: jongho x f!reader (ft. yunho) ★ genre: friends to lovers, college, smut (mdni!) ★ word count: 5.4k ★ tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, jongho calls reader babygirl and yunho calls reader princess, features friend!san and previous hookup!yunho, some jealousy/tension, reader also kinda uses yunho… but he’s okay with it, lowercase ★ notes: beta’d by the bestie @starhwas-bunny. there may or may not be a yunho prequel coming soon hehehehe. also please let me know if i’ve missed any warnings! ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | part 2

you feel your eyelids droop, heavy from the burden of attempting to stay away in this godforsaken class. it doesn’t help that the seats in this lecture hall are so damn comfortable: plush and tall enough for full back and neck support and a slight give that lets you lean back. you’re one lecture slide away from calling it a day—even though class started just ten minutes ago—when you feel something at your left shoulder.

it’s choi jongho, leaning closer towards you over the armrest dividing your seats.

hot, attractive choi jongho, with broad shoulders and strong arms and thick thighs.

you stare adamantly at your laptop screen, at the blank google doc open, at the blinking cursor teasing you for almost falling asleep. you focus on literally anything except jongho’s overwhelming presence at your side–the subtle scent of his musky shampoo, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder.

the silver chain that he normally hides behind the collar of his shirt hangs out, dangling in a way that has you imagining a different scenario: your string lights illuminating the outline of his body while he presses you into the mattress with his weight, one hand gripping your waist and the other on the headboard, that goddamn silver chain swinging above you while he—

“late night last night?” jongho says, voice low because you’re in class, and deliciously deep. it’s unintentionally sultry, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“shut up,” you say. “i was finishing an essay.”

jongho hums, and you start to aimlessly copy down the words of the lecture slide. you know that jongho sees right through you; the slides will be posted online later, so there’s no point regurgitating the content.

but you cannot let yourself look at jongho, because you’d probably try to kiss him right then and there.

“weren’t you with yunho?” he says.

“not like that,” you grit out. “we’re just in the same class so he was helping me.”

jongho hums, and he finally returns to the confines of his own seat. you let out a breath of relief. you continue copying down words from the powerpoint, even letting yourself tune into the professor’s voice; at least you’re wide awake now, a nagging feeling of want coursing through you.

you feel a nudge at your other elbow. this presence is comfortable, familiar. it’s san, your first friend at university who is conveniently the same major as you. even though he’s just as big and built as jongho, he’s less intimidating. he’s soft and nice, and he’s showing you a topical meme on his phone from some computer science joke twitter account.

unfortunately, jongho notices san’s phone turned towards you and leans over again, except this time he’s closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he tries to make sure he’s also included in the joke.

“i don’t get it,” he says.

“it’s because you’re not actually a computer science major,” you say, rolling your eyes and pushing jongho back into his seat—you exert more effort than you anticipated because of how solid jongho is.

“tsk,” jongho says. “at least i actually understand what’s going on in this class.”

this shuts you up, and you go back to glaring at your laptop and reformatting your bullets because you’ve already lost track of the lecture.

you last another fifteen minutes of attempting to pay attention, before you resign yourself to scrolling through instagram and mentally planning how you can coerce jongho into sharing his immaculately organized notes.

in the final minute of class, the whole class begins unceremoniously packing up, even though the professor is still droning on about greedy algorithms. everyone shuffles out of their row and through the doors at the back of the lecture hall, and jongho falls into step with san, talking about working on the homework tonight. you walk a step behind them, because your legs are shorter and because you want plausible deniability while admiring the shear breadth of jongho’s shoulders.

you leave the lecture hall, and san heads to the academic quad for his next class.

“see you later,” you say to him and jongho, who usually has to work at the library after class, but you notice him following you to the coffeehouse.

“don’t you have work?” you say.

“i changed my schedule,” jongho says. “are you gonna go work at the cafe?”

you nod, and he follows you to the campus coffeehouse where you stand in a fifteen minute line. jongho only gets drip coffee, so you end up ordering something frivolous to make the wait worth it. the two of you squeeze into a small table in the corner, your knees constantly brushing against each other as you read over the essay you wrote last night in a red bull induced haze.

most of it is thankfully salvageable, and the hit of caffeine helps you.

every once in a while, you find yourself glancing over the top of your laptop at jongho. at the lines of concentration etched into his handsome, tanned face. how his hair is getting scruffy and how he pouts when he’s deep in thought.

you’re so hopelessly in love with choi jongho.

at some point, he gets up to get a napkin, and when he returns, he doesn’t sit back down in his own seat. no—instead he hovers behind you, invading your space with one hand on the back of your chair and the other stretched onto the table to keep himself stable.

and that chain—that goddamn silver chain dances over your shoulder again.

“what do you want?” you mumble, skin prickling at the sensation of his proximity.

“this is not bad,” jongho says, eyes skimming over your essay.

“what’s with the tone of surprise?” you retort.

jongho shrugs. “just thought you would’ve been distracted last night.”

you finally chance a look at him, if only to stare at him puzzled until it finally clicks. you shove him off—subconsciously admiring, once again, just how solid he feels.

“for the last time,” you say. “it’s not like that. yunho’s just a friend.”

jongho sits back down, patting the napkin on a part of his laptop.

“good.”

you stop typing and gape at jongho, who’s returned to focusing on his own work. did he- did he just—? your brain works at miles a minute, offering bold assumptions and then instantly refuting them and then rebutting those and then raising new anxieties and then being hopeful and then—

you spend the rest of the time at the coffeehouse overanalyzing one word you’re not even sure you heard.

⋆⋆⋆

the three of you are sat around the coffee table in the living room of jongho and san’s apartment on the west side of campus. their apartment has become the haven for your discrete math class, where jongho blesses you and san with his knowledge in a class he’s taking pass/fail that isn’t even a major requirement for him. their apartment also has plenty of alcohol for when the nights get particularly rough and a good stash of unhealthy stacks.

it’s 1 am now, and the three of you have finished three out of five of the homework questions, eaten five packets of ramen, two sleeves of strawberry pocky, downed six bottles of yakult, and watched an eighteen minute youtube video theorizing that bakugou might become the second user of one for all.

you’d consider this a productive night.

now, you’re perched on the couch, san leaning against your legs while you play with his hair. it’s softer than yours, which frustrates you to no end because you know for a fact that he uses 5-in-1—how are there even five things to incorporate into one bottle?

jongho’s in the kitchen, contemplating a late night—or early morning—beer.

“seonghwa’s throwing a party this weekend,” jongho says, when he returns with another bottle of yakult instead of the beer. the bottle is already small, but it’s positively dwarfed by the size of his hands.

“if seonghwa’s hosting, then yunho will be there,” jongho continues. he looks pointedly at you.

“i thought,” you say, tugging a little on san’s hair and earning a sharp shout of pain, “we established that i don’t. like. yunho.””

“but didn’t you hook up with him?” san says, removing himself from your vindictive fingers and rubbing his scalp. as he sits up to look at you, he instantly regrets bringing up this point as you glare daggers at him. he’s not wrong; you and yunho had hooked up once, at the birthday party of an acquaintance, after seeing jongho chatting up some other pretty girl.

“you guys hooked up?” jongho says, breaking the stare-off you’re having with san for betraying your trust like that.

“it didn’t mean anything,” you say quickly, glancing up at jongho and double-taking at the shadow that’s fallen over his expression. how his jaw looks tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“but you guys hooked up,” he repeats.

“just the one time,” you say, not quite understanding why it feels like you’re being accused of something far worse than a hookup between two consenting and single adults. “we were high and he was just there and it happened.”

“when?” jongho says, continuing the interrogation and maintaining eye contact with you while san switches his attention between the two of you, the instigator but certainly not the mediator of this conversation.

“at yeji’s birthday party,” you say.

“so that’s why we had to pick you up from the burger place on 8th,” jongho says. “because you were at his place.”

“yeah,” you say. “but it literally does not matter because i don’t like him. we’re just friends, and i’m not gonna hook up with him again.”

jongho stares at you.

“good.”

there it is again. that word, said under his breath. barely there, but enough that you feel a mix of doubt and hope.

you hate it.

“hey!” san says, forcefully cheerful in a way that means he’s trying to change the subject to diffuse the situation. “i found another my hero theory video. the one has 100k views!”

you drop jongho’s gaze first, letting your attention shift to the video san has pulled up on his laptop. “i just don’t think my hero is that deep,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way you can still feel jongho’s eyes on you.

“well, 100 thousand people do,” san sniffs. “including me.”

finally, jongho takes the bait. “how long is it?” he asks.

“thirty minutes!” san says cheerfully.

you and jongho both groan, but dutifully allow san to press play.

over the next thirty minutes, you tune in and out of the overdramatic video as you turn over the previous conversation in your head. you can’t help but read into the situation: clearly jongho is bothered that you’re close with yunho and hooked up with him once. in fact, he’s so bothered that you could even interpret it as being… jealous.

but if he is, why doesn’t he do anything about it?

you’re half asleep by the time the video ends. san nudges you and gives you an sheepish, apologetic smile.

“it’s late,” he says. “do you want us to drive you home?”

“nah,” you say. “can i just stay over? i’m too tired to move.”

it’s not your first time staying over. your apartment is on the other side of campus, so after most long nights of working you sleep on the couch. san lets you borrow the same old high school volleyball shirt every time, and you slip into it and pull off your jeans. the shirt is thankfully long enough to cover your butt, and the no-pants thing has never been a problem.

until now, when you step out of the bathroom, and jongho’s just entering his bedroom, and he looks at you. you clearly see his eyes roam down your legs before springing back up to meet yours.

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he says, voice gruff and deep.

“san’s getting—”

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he repeats.

it feels like an olive branch, and you fall asleep surrounded by jongho’s scent. distinctly masculine and musky and oddly soothing.

⋆⋆⋆

when you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of whirring from the kitchen. from your spot on the couch, you can vaguely make out the blurry shape of someone in the kitchen. your hand flails around the coffee table, blindly slapping until you find your glasses and shove them onto your face.

it’s jongho, wearing gray sweats and no shirt, leaning against the counter while making coffee. you take the time to admire his back, feeling your cheeks warm as you do. in all honesty, you’re surprised that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him shirtless, and you’d be dumb not to take advantage of it.

you run your eyes over the contours of the muscles in his back, the way they flex and ripple as he crosses and uncrosses his arms.

you yawn and wipe at the sleep still in your eyes. this noise gets to jongho, and he turns around. this action draws a sound out of you, something that comes from the back of your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. because jongho—

jongho’s shirtless, and he’s facing you, his naked torso completely exposed to you. you stare at that goddamn silver chain, nestled against his substantial chest. at the miles and miles of smooth, tanned skin and his fucking arms.

you clap a hand over your mouth and pretend to yawn again.

“you want coffee?” jongho calls.

“yeah,” you manage to say, while laying back onto your back and averting your eyes to the ceiling.

a little while later, you hear jongho pad towards you and you sit back up again. he gives you a mug of coffee and sits down at the opposite end of the couch, leaning back and stretching out his offensively nice upper body. the light from outside peeks in from the blinds of the large balcony windows and bathes his skin in golden stripes.

“is san—?”

“he’s at his 8 am,” jongho says. “when’s your first class again?”

“not until 10:45,” you say. “i’m gonna go home and shower and stuff first.”

“i’ll give you a ride,” jongho says.

you protest politely, mostly because you don’t know if you’ll be able to stand being in such a small space with him, especially when he drives a sleek black mercedes with silky black leather that’s just begging for someone to ruin with some steamy car sex.

but jongho manages to convince you that he needs to drop by the convenience store on the east side of campus anyway, so you find yourself following him down to the apartment parking lot, wearing yesterday’s clothes and hair tied up in a bun to disguise how oily it is.

when he backs out of his spot, he does that thing: wraps his arm around the back of your seat and backs out with one hand. it’s disgustingly attractive.

you sink lower into the heated seat, staring out the window to avoid daydreaming about car sex with jongho.

⋆⋆⋆

you do end up going to seonghwa’s party that friday, after your girlfriends unceremoniously invite themselves into your apartment carrying a huge case of peach soju and a twelve pack of beer.

after a beer and two shots of soju, you’ve changed into a crop top, a silky leopard print skirt, and cute black boots.

thankfully, seonghwa’s place is only a block away from your apartment, but you and your friends still find a way to get lost on the way there. it takes ten minutes longer than necessary, but you’re finally crashing into the living room of seonghwa’s townhouse.

it’s already packed, but roomy enough that you can move freely without having to slide against other sweaty and drunk people. you break off from your friends to seek out san (and jongho). as you pass the kitchen, you swipe a red solo and a meager amount of whatever mixed drink atrocity they’ve made for the night that you immediately water down. you’re man enough to acknowledge that you’re a lightweight, and you’ll be damned if you end the night puking into a toilet rather than flirting with jongho.

you find san first. he’s lurking near the beer pong table, leaning against the wall and talking to wooyoung. you sneak up on him and he jumps when you give his side a big poke.

“san!” you say, wrapping him a big hug. you’re known to be more affectionate with alcohol in your system. after san clumsily returns your hug to avoid spilling his drink on you, you release him and give wooyoung a similar hug.

“where’s jongho?” you ask, standing on your toes to speak directly into san’s ear.

san points to the other side of the pong table, where you see jongho huddled in a corner with some blonde girl who looks suspiciously like the one from yeji’s birthday party. your reaction is immediate, something joining the alcohol to course through your veins—something fiery and prickling. jealousy, you think numbly.

“we’re playing next,” san says. “me and jongho. you should stay to watch.”

you hum noncommittally, peering at the ids lined up on the pong table and seeing only jongho’s. an idea strikes you, and you give san a peck on the cheek and some excuse about using the bathroom.

you wander back through the crowd of people, occasionally saying hi to people you know as you seek out one individual in particular. you find him on the couch, arm hung lazily on the back, hovering behind some girl. he’s clearly chatting her up, leaning close to her ear and hooded eyes making generous peeks at her cleavage.

you down the rest of your diluted mixed drink and throw yourself at him.

“yunho!” you cry, squeezing into the small space between him and the arm of the couch, meaning you’re basically sitting on him. “thank you so much for helping me with the essay! i definitely would’ve failed without you.” you flutter your eyelashes at him and simper.

the girl scowls visibly, crossing her arms in a way that makes her tits swell, but yunho barely notices—you know he has a sweet spot for you ever since that one night stand, and besides, he could get any girl he wants.

“y/n,” yunho says, shifting his body so that his back is to the girl now. she scoffs and leaves. “you good?”

“i’m great,” you giggle.

“you look good,” yunho says, shamelessly running his eyes over your figure.

“let’s play beer pong,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you think you’re good for pong?” he says, a little dubiously as you let out a hiccup.

“yeah, because i know you’ll carry,” you say.

“alright, princess,” he says. “let’s go.”

you tumble off of him and pretend to be wobbly on your feet to let him steady you as you walk towards the beer pong table. yunho slips his wallet out of his pocket and slides his id onto the table to get in line to play the winner.

when he notices jongho, yunho lets out a chuckle.

“ah, y/n,” he says, catching your wrist and pulling you into him. “i see what’s happening.”

your cheeks heat up at being caught so quickly. “i’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “he keeps bringing you up and being weird, but now, he’s got that girl with him…”

“don’t worry, princess,” yunho says. “i know how to put on a show.”

jongho and san are playing now, and it looks like they’re winning. that same chick from before is hanging off of his arm, acting like a cheerleader. you catch jongho’s gaze, and the cheery smile he’s wearing slips off immediately when he notices yunho behind you, hands on either side of your waist.

you shiver as jongho gives you a salacious up-down that has you convinced you’ve pressed the right buttons to make something happen tonight. you giggle, tugging your lower lip in between your teeth and leaning a little closer to yunho.

something must snap inside jongho, because he and san end the game with three cups in quick succession. the losers slink off, as you and yunho take their place. yunho reracks the cups and refills them with a thin layer of beer. jongho rolls a ping pong ball towards you.

“eyes,” he says.

when yours lock onto his, you smirk. he grimaces.

to decide who gets to start, you have to hold eye contact with each other and try to make a cup. whoever makes one first gets to start the actual game. jongho misses, but you don’t, so you and yunho get to go first.

you and yunho go toe to toe with jongho and san, which is surprising considering how little beer pong you play. by the fourth turn, the blonde girl has left, unsatisfied with the lack of attention she’s received from jongho. by the seventh turn, you and yunho have two cups left, and jongho and san have three.

yunho goes, and makes the first. you cheer and jump up to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. he steps behind you, massaging your shoulders theatrically. you close your left eye, lining up your shot. just as you’re about to let go of the ball, you turn around and pull yunho down to your height.

“give me a good luck kiss!”

he smiles into the kiss, which turns out to have a lot more tongue than you’d expected, but yunho is a good kisser so you don’t mind.

“let’s go, princess,” yunho says, slapping your ass as you turn back to the pong table.

jongho’s positively glowering at this point, and you smirk at him as you map out your shot again.

you miss.

you’re not entirely surprised.

yunho’s not even mad, and begins grossly comforting you with arms wrapped around your shoulders and kisses to the crown of your head.

jongho and san make the last two cups easily.

“too bad, princess,” yunho says into your hair. “you were doing so well.”

you pull yourself out of his grasp. “bathroom,” you explain sheepishly. yunho gives you a knowing look and a wink.

you’ve been to seonghwa’s house enough to know about the secret bathroom on the second floor that he doesn’t allow partygoers to use, so you slink up the stairs when million dollar baby starts playing and the crowd swells with renewed enthusiasm.

just as you’re closing the door behind you, a shoe shoots out to stop the action. someone pushes the door back open, and who else but—

jongho.

“i thought you said you didn’t like yunho,” he hisses down at you.

“i need to pee,” you reply, cocking your head to one side and widening your eyes at him.

he considers you for a second before stepping inside the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“alright,” he says. “pee.”

“i don’t- are you going to watch me?” you say.

“didn’t seem like you minded people seeing you and yunho all wrapped up downstairs,” jongho says, crossing his arms over his chest, and you hate the way his biceps bulge when he does.

“that’s different from- from peeing,” you mumble.

“fine,” jongho says, and he turns around to stare at the bathroom door.

you’re not entirely satisfied, but you really do need to pee, so you pull down your underwear and sit on the toilet.

it’s awkward, but at least the music and noise downstairs mask the sound. you end up peeing for a surprisingly long time, and even jongho feels the need to break the tension with a poorly timed,

“damn, you’re like a waterfall.”

“i’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snap.

“you’re that drunk?”

“no—i’m drinking water, too, you bastard,” you say, finally finished. “don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

you flush and wash your hands, and then you’re leaning against the sink and saying, “okay, you can turn around.”

he does. “so. yunho?” he prompts again.

“i told you,” you say, staring directly above jongho’s shoulder. “i don’t like him.”

“then why were you all over him?”

“why do you care?” you sneer.

“just answer the question, y/n,” jongho says.

“why are you so obsessed with yunho?” you say. “if you want to fuck him, be my guest! i won’t get in the way.”

this hits a sore spot, because jongho moves quickly, crowding you into the sink in one step.

“it’s not him i want to fuck,” he breathes.

your breath hitches in your throat. you feel your heartbeat in your mouth.

“what do you mean,” you say, mouth unbelievably dry.

“c’mon, y/n,” jongho says, voice husky. he’s looking at you, eyes darting to your lips. “you can figure this out.”

it’s the same phrase he always uses when you’re struggling through a discrete math problem that he’s already solved, but normally he’s nice, barely teasing.

right now, he sounds downright condescending.

so, you snap. you grab him by his chain and tug him down to your height, slot your lips over his and kiss him.

his lips are nice. soft. he tastes like minty chapstick and bitter beer. his tongue slips into your mouth, and suddenly the kiss takes a turn from intense to lewd.

his hands find your waist, his palms burning into the exposed skin between your crop top and your skirt. his thick thigh pushes apart your legs, and your skirt rucks up above your hips. you gasp and break away to tug at the hem, but jongho stops you.

“that’s counter productive,” he whispers.

“okay,” you say. “i’ll be productive then.” and you pull off your crop top to reveal a lacy black bra and pull up your skirt all the way to reveal a matching lacy black thong. you hear jongho inhale, and then a deep chuckle.

“fuck,” he says, drawing out the word. he meets your eyes again. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“that’s you,” you say.

he dives back in to mouth at your pulse point, as his hands slip down to your ass, palming the flesh and leading you to grind against his thigh. he’s flexing, and the fabric of your underwear is thin and you can already feel a wet patch spreading, and the combination along with the friction of the movement has you moaning.

“that’s what i like to hear.”

you hear the muted opening strums of mr.brightside just as jongho’s thumb begins circling your clit over your underwear. you moan into his shoulder and buck against his hand. he continues to work you until the crotch of your panties is practically soaked, and you’re a whining mess.

“p- please,” you whisper, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, and he’s drawing aside the lace and pushing two fingers into you. you throw your head back at the feeling of being filled and stretched; his fingers are long and thick, nothing like your own or any of your previous hook-ups.

“shit, you’re so wet,” he says, pulling back to watch his fingers fucking you. the sound it makes is positively vulgar, and you pant with every motion. at some point, he starts curling his fingers so that they hit that perfect spot in the back and rubbing his thumb across your clit, and you can feel your high building.

“fuck, jongho,” you whine.

“shit, babygirl, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep talking like that,” jongho says, smiling into your neck.

“don’t,” you say. “you can- you can- please, fuck me. you can- cum in me.”

jongho stops, only the tips of his fingers teasing at your entrance, and you whimper as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“are you serious?” he asks, as you circle your hips in an attempt at some relief.

“yes,” you hiss.

“fuck, babygirl,” jongho says, taking a step back and a new glint in his eyes.

but just as he puts his hand on the button of his jeans, there’s a sharp rap on the door that makes both of you jump.

“oi! this bathroom is off-limits!” it’s seonghwa, and to be fair, he’s right.

“give us a second!” jongho calls, wincing at the subtext. you jump off of the bathroom sink, swaying a little with how jittery your legs are. jongho stabilizes you with a hand on your hip and hands you your shirt.

“jongho? is that you?” seonghwa says. “little shit. this is the third time—”

your head snaps up to look at jongho, who’s unlocking the door and pushing it open, effectively interrupting seonghwa’s rant. he nudges you out first, standing behind you, and you suspect it’s to hide the very visible tent in his pants that’s currently pressed against your ass.

“oh,” seonghwa says, as his eyes fall onto you. he takes a second, glancing back and forth between the two of you, running over your mussed hair and flushed cheeks, jongho’s screwed up face and his right hand still grasping your hip, the wrinkles in your skirt and finally—

“oh,” seonghwa repeats. “oh, shit. okay, well congrats and all that—” and here he punches jongho in the shoulder “—but that doesn’t mean you can fuck in my bathroom!” he finishes cheerfully. he steps behind jongho and begins ushering the two of you back down the stairs and through the living room until you’re on his front porch.

“if you’re going to be doing the nasty, i’d rather you do that at home!” seonghwa says, wagging a finger in your face. “make sure you use protection! love you both!” and he shuts the door.

he leaves you and jongho in a stunned silence, both staring at the closed door.

“uh—” jongho tries.

“what did he mean third time?” you say.

“oh,” jongho says, and his big dick energy dissipates as a sheepish expression takes over. “well, i- i might’ve… y’know… a couple times in seonghwa’s bathroom.” he rubs the back of his neck and offers you an apologetic, gummy smile.

“and you got mad at me for fucking yunho once in his own apartment?” you demand, actually stopping your foot to emphasize the clear double standard at play. “while you were off playing merry-go-fuck-around in seonghwa’s private bathroom?”

“i wasn’t mad at you,” jongho says. “i was just—”

“just what?” you say. “slut-shaming me for having consensual sex?”

“no!” jongho says quickly. “i was jealous.”

“oh,” you say. so, you’d been right. he has been jealous of you and yunho. but somehow, you don’t feel vindicated in the slightest. “i mean—that doesn’t make it any better. i’m not some object—”

“i know that,” jongho says, exasperated. “but i just wanted to be… with you.”

“with me?” you say, wrinkling your nose. “you wanted to fuck me, too? like those other girls you had up in seonghwa’s bathroom?”

“no! with you, like—” jongho’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip “—like as your boyfriend.”

oh.

well, you hadn’t been expecting that. you blink at him once, then twice. you open your mouth and close it again, gaping like a goldfish.

“do you- do you like me?” you ask, voice hoarse.

“well, yeah,” jongho says. “do… you like me?”

“yes!” you nearly shout the word. “yes—i’ve been in lo- i’ve liked you for at least a whole semester!”

“oh,” jongho says, looking as dumbfounded as you feel. “well, me too.”

you look at each other, and then start laughing. you hiccup, and jongho moves closer to you, wrapping his substantial arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his firm, warm chest. your cheek presses against that goddamn silver chain, but it’s no longer a source of stress for you. he peppers the crown of your forehead with kisses, until you finally look up at him and he kisses your lips softly.

“so,” he says, “can i?”

you raise your eyebrows. “can you what?”

“be your boyfriend?”

you pretend to contemplate the question, and when it takes you longer than a few seconds to respond, he knocks his chin against your temple affectionately.

“yeah,” you say, grinning. “yeah, you can be my boyfriend.”

“so then, what do you say about going back to my place and finishing what we started?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

continued in part 2!

#jongho #jongho x reader #choi jongho #jongho smut #jongho fic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #[sunsh writes]#ateez smut #sunshineyuyu fic

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nanamiskentos · 7 months ago

Text

HOLY GROUND — geto suguru

prologue. → suguru geto is effortlessly stylish, and impossibly charming, and it's no wonder that everyone loves him. and you're absolutely crushing on him. and without fail, he takes you out each afternoon, after school, to a sweet cheesecake shop, saying that it'll be nice to grab a quick treat. but as a friend...right?

pairing. geto suguru x reader

warnings+. nothing, just sugary sweet fluff! reader has some self doubt and is a bit nervous, has a bit of a crush on ol' geto.

word count. 3.03k! song inspiration. holy ground — taylor swift

a/n. this post by @shokosmokes got me thinkin...mind u i love a good angst story but its nice to just have something sweet. like cheesecake 🍰 anyway this is short but i had fun writing this short lil piece <3 lmao this is the first time i think i've written a story without someone dying or losing a limb. not beta read, we die like warriors.

mp3. tonight i'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through. but i don't wanna dance, if i'm not dancing with you.

you sat across from geto at a small table by the window, marvelling at how the warm sunlight spilled in and caught the edges of his profile, lighting his features up with the last rays of summer's sweetness. you can hear the usual bustle of life on the streets of tokyo, with cars roaring down narrow streets and voices floating on the air. but here, it's just you and him.

there's a single strand of his hair that's perpetually falling out of his knot, falling against his face in a way that makes your chest tighten. the light has caught the feathery edges of his raven hair, turning the black into deep shades of brown and caramel that you want to capture within your fingers.

"you're quiet today," geto says, and he's leaning back in his chair, legs stretched wide beneath the table as he always tends to do.

you're glad you both took the time to change out of your uniform, at the dorms. the loose charcoal top drapes well against his lean, sculpted frame. his faded black jeans and scuffed docs complete the look, as though he stepped out of a glossy streetwear magazine and into your hands. there's two silver bracelets stacked on his wrists, gleaming faintly and you watch as the faint dusting of dark hair on his arms look translucent in the afternoon light.

great, you've been staring. again. heat rushes to your face, and you quickly look down at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping he didn't notice how you were practically unthreading each stitch that held him together.

"just tired," you say. though the truth has nothing to do with exhaustion, and everything to do with him.

geto tilts his head, watching you, "long day?"

you trace your finger along that shattered screen as you flip your phone open, "something like that. you know how they train us at the end of the day."

his eyes narrow for a split second, like he's the one solving a puzzle right now, but he shakes his head, "let's just go and order now. 'm starving."

this bakery is known for its whimsical creations, and you stare at the menu above the counter, wondering how many crumpled bills you can scrounge up for this outing. geto's leaning against the glass case, shoving his hands in wide pockets as his bracelets clink softly at the movement.

his eyes skim over the vibrant slices of cheesecake on display, but you know he's not really looking at the desserts. he's just giving you time.

"what do you think?"

"i don’t know," you say, dragging out the words as you squint at the labels. "how am i supposed to pick between strawberry matcha swirl and honey lavender? they all sound so - " you pause, schooling your face as the woman behind the till gives you a side-eye, "complicated."

geto chuckles, a low, warm sound that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. "why don’t you go for something fun? you always play it safe."

his words make you pause. maybe he’s right. maybe you do tend to pick the familiar, the predictable. but not today. today, you want something different — something bold. you glance at the menu again, and your eyes land on a slice that looks like a kaleidoscope of colour: tropical mango-passionfruit cheesecake with swirls of raspberry and a delicate coconut crust. it’s so bright and summery, it feels almost impossible not to smile just imagining yourself biting into it.

"that one," you say, pointing to it.

geto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, his lips curving into a faint smile. "and for me…" he looks over the options for barely a second before he says, "just plain vanilla."

"tch! vanilla?" you repeat "you’re so boring."

"hey, it's a classic."

you roll your eyes, but you are so endlessly fond of him that you're smiling.

a few moments later, you’re back at your table with your slices, and the tropical cheesecake looks as perfect as it did in the case. the vibrant layers of mango, passionfruit, and raspberry practically glow in the sunlight streaming through the window.

ignoring geto's snarky comment to breathe first before inhaling it, you take your first bite, the fork sinking into the creamy texture, and for a moment, you’re hopeful.

but then...ugh. the sweetness hits you all at once, overwhelming your senses. it’s not bad, but it’s...too much. too bright. too cloying. you hesitate, unsure how to admit the mistake of your overzealous choice.

geto notices immediately, because of course he does. he leans forward, resting his arms on the table, his bracelets catching the light again, "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you say quickly, but your face must give you away because he narrows his pretty eyes in suspicion.

"you don’t like it." it's not a question, he’s grinning now.

"it’s fine," you insist, though your tone lacks conviction, and you shovel another wide piece into your mouth.

geto doesn’t say anything. instead, he picks up his fork and, before you can protest, scoops a bite from your slice. you watch as his pink lips part, and he tastes it before pulling a face, "that's sweet enough to even knock out satoru."

"hey!" you protest, though you can’t help but laugh along with him, thinking of your white-haired friend bouncing off the walls. "it’s not that bad."

"you don’t have to eat it," geto says, sliding his plate toward you and nudging your slice away. "here. take mine."

"but you don’t even like sweet things."

geto shrugs, picking up your plate and taking another bite of your overly sweet cheesecake like it’s nothing, and you watch as a mild spasm twitches across his features, "it’s fine. it's no good if you sit here and suffer through something you don't like."

you try to pretend like your chest doesn't tighten at the gesture. he doesn’t even look at you when he says it, focusing instead on his plate.

you take a bite of his vanilla cheesecake, and it’s perfect — not too sweet, just creamy and subtle enough to make you sigh in relief, "where would i be without you?" you hope that the teasing in your voice is enough to smooth over the cracks in your beating heart.

geto glances up at you then, his violet eyes meeting yours, and there’s something unguarded in his expression, something raw and warm and so achingly tender it makes your pulse skip, "i could say the same for you," he says quietly, almost as if the words weren’t meant to be heard, and far too quietly for something as trivial as an afternoon date in a café.

there's a warmth pooling in your cheeks, making your face hurt. and your thoughts loop back to the same quiet ache that you've carried for a few months now, like a sealed and perfumed love letter carried in your pocket.

every time he takes you out after class, you tell yourself, this is it. this is when i'll say it. haven't you rehearsed the words in your head, simple and clear each time?

i like you. i actually really like you a lot, suguru geto.

and every time, like clockwork, the words dissolve on your tongue, swallowed by the noise of your own uncertainty. it is hardly the case that geto isn't kind nor attentive. it's not that he's distant or cold, entirely the opposite.

if anything, he always seems...present.

but then you think about how he walks through the school hallways with that same quiet storm of charisma and charm, how his laughter draws people to him like moths to a flame, boys and girls alike.

in contrast, gojo satoru is far too much for many. there are many who choose to take a step back from him, away from the whirlwind and electrifying storm that is the six-eyes user.

but everyone wants a piece of geto's world, to be his friend or a confident, or something.

and you, what are you? just another friend he takes out after school? someone he doesn't mind spending time with when the day winds down?

your heart is once again acquainted with a knot of longing and fear that’s become far too familiar. geto doesn’t look like someone who would hesitate. he looks like someone who would know exactly what to say, exactly what to do, without second-guessing himself.

and yet, every time you’re with him, you catch these small moments of quiet — when his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, or when he says your name like it’s heavier than it should be. those moments make you wonder. what if…?

and as if he's reading your thoughts, geto shifts forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table now, and that single loose strand of hair moves with him, falling further into his face.

"something’s on your mind," he says, his pretty eyes searching yours. there’s a teasing edge to his tone, but it’s tempered with genuine curiosity, "you can tell me, you know."

you can’t help but wonder — how are you supposed to tell him that he’s the one taking up all the space in your mind? that his voice is the soundtrack to your thoughts, his smile the thing you find yourself chasing in every quiet moment?

instead, you give a small shrug, "maybe i’m just distracted."

"by what?" he presses, leaning just slightly closer, the teasing note in his voice softening into something warmer, a sincere question.

you hesitate, and you want to tell him the truth, but it feels too big, too fragile to let out into the open and so you blunder around, "maybe it’s the cheesecake," you say instead, your voice light, though the thrum of your pulse is anything but, "vanilla really is a classic."

smooth. utahime is going to be so disappointed in you. you know that she's tired of hearing about your crush by now, twirling the ribbon in her hair as she groans each time you tell her that you think you're going to pack your bags and move countries away from geto.

but now geto laughs softly, and the sound wraps around you like warmth, like home, "guess i picked the right place, then."

"you always do." your fingers brush against the cool porcelain of your plate, though you barely notice. your heart is often a traitor to your rational peace of mind, and your attention is all on him, on the way his smile lingers, softer now, the edges of his usually confident expression unraveling into something more tentative.

for a moment, geto's quiet, his gaze falling to his hands. his fingers toy with one of the silver rings on his right hand, twisting it in slow circles. It’s a small, nervous gesture, and it catches you off guard — suguru geto is never nervous.

the silence stretches in the late afternoon light, but then geto shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his hands fiddling with the silver rings stacked on his fingers. the movement catches your attention, and when you glance up, you notice something different about him. the easy confidence that seems to follow him like a second shadow is nowhere to be seen. instead, his jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, and there’s a flicker of something nervous in the way his fingers twist the largest ring around and around.

he's looking at you, meeting your gaze, and you’re startled by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes.

"hey," he says, his voice quieter than usual, a touch rough around the edges.

"yeah?"

geto exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a line before he speaks again.

"okay, look. i -” he pauses, running a hand through his hair, dislodging the tie holding his hair together, so choppy, dark locks fall around his shoulders. you school your face well enough so you don't look like you've been punched in the gut by cupid.

"i like you," he says finally, his words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been bottled up for too long, "i’ve liked you for a while now. and - and i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without, like… messing everything up."

your breath catches, the words landing like a firework in the quiet space between you. geto likes you? he likes you?

geto keeps going, as if he’s afraid to lose his nerve.

"i asked gojo for advice — stupid, i know, don't make that face — and he told me to just… keep taking you out and hope you’d get the hint. said that you'd realise eventually," and one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers you know groans, covering his face briefly with one hand, as if he's embarrassed.

"which was a terrible plan because i'm awful at hints, and apparently, so is he, considering he’s never had a girlfriend in his life."

you blink, the shock giving way to a surprised laugh, the sound spilling out before you can stop it.

"wait — gojo? he's the one who gave you advice? he doesn’t even know the first thing about relationships! do you remember the time that he went on one date, and got dumped the next day for trying to buy dinner out of the vending machine."

"i know!" geto says, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, but there’s a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips now, "i know it was a bad idea. i just wanted to tell you, straight up. but I didn’t know what else to do, okay? i didn’t want to screw this up."

you fall silent at that, your laughter fading as the weight of his words sinks in. he's looking at you now, his expression open and raw in a way that makes your chest ache.

"i just — i want to do this right," he says softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "i want to be your boyfriend. properly. i want to take you out, and to be able to call you mine, and — i don’t know — do all the cheesy stuff couples do."

his hand brushes the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the table for a moment before flicking back to yours, "but if that’s weird, or if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. you don’t have to say yes. promise i won't cry in front of you."

Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, a wild, dizzying rhythm that drowns out everything else. You stare at him, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’s just said, with the fact that he likes you. geto—cool, effortlessly charming geto—wants to be your boyfriend.

"wait," you manage finally, your voice shaky with disbelief. "you… like me? like, you really like me?"

geto laughs softly, though there’s still a nervous edge to it. "yeah, i really do. it's probably stupidly obvious by now, isn’t it? i mean, everyone said it was so obvious, and shoko said you already knew."

you shake your head, bewildered. "no! i mean, yes — but no! i just thought you only saw me as a friend. i never thought — "

you stop yourself, realising you’re rambling, and take a deep breath. then, before you can overthink it or possibly faint, you say, "yes."

geto's thin brows furrow slightly. "yes?"

"yeah," you repeat, a smile breaking across your face. "i'd really like that. i do want to go out with you, suguru."

relief washes over his features, followed by a grin so genuine and bright it leaves you breathless. for a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name, something that makes you feel like the centre of the universe.

"oh my god, thank god, you don't even know, i was actually going to have a heart attack..." he mutters, almost to himself, before he blinks, like he's forgetting something. then, with an almost comical jolt of realisation, he clears his throat.

"right," he says, the word drawn out, as if he’s trying to ground himself. "i need to pay for the tab."

you laugh nervously, still reeling from everything that’s just happened, and shake your head quickly, thinking back to the meagre bills in your pocket. "oh, it’s okay! i can pay for my own -"

but geto's head snaps up at that, and he fixes you with a look so incredulous, so utterly affronted, that it startles you into silence.

"no way," he says, his voice firm but laced with humour and he leans forward slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of warmth that sends your heart racing all over again, "i’m your boyfriend now. you really think I’m going to let you pay?"

it's unfamiliar and thrilling all at once. your cheeks burn, and you can’t stop the laugh that escapes you, a mix of delight and disbelief.

"unbelievable," you say, shaking your head, but there’s no real protest in your voice.

geto grins, the expression crooked and self-assured in a way that’s so unmistakably him, and it takes your breath away. then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours before his fingers gently curl around them.

it's such a simple gesture, but it feels monumental, like the air around you shifts in response. his hand is warm, slightly calloused at the fingertips, and the way his thumb grazes over your knuckles sends a quiet thrill through you.

you glance down at your joined hands, unable to stop the soft, surprised smile that spreads across your face. when you look back up, geto is watching you, his expression open and unguarded, as if he’s memorising every detail of this moment.

"so," he says quietly, his voice softer now, "is this the part where you say you’re going to let me spoil you a little?"

you laugh again, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand in return. "i guess i don’t really have a choice now, do i?"

his smile widens, and there’s a faint pink tint to his cheeks that makes your heart ache with how much you like him.

"nope," he says, his tone teasing but earnest. "you really don’t."

and as you sit there, your hand in geto's, surrounded by the golden light and the lingering sweetness of cheesecake, you think that maybe — just maybe — this is what happiness feels like.

#geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #suguru geto #getou suguru #jjk geto #i projected an old date of mine onto this and i had to pace around afterwards #thinking shit like 'i should text him again' NO you shouldnt girl!

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dduane · 4 months ago

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I have started collecting your Star Trek novels, after having gotten to know your writing through Young Wizards. Just finished Spock's World, am a few chapters into The Wounded Sky.

I'd just like to say that I love the way you embrace diversity as a concept in your writing. Your Starfleet is full of Terrans, sure, and humanoids, but also overflowing with nonhumanoids, with species whose inclusion necessitates accommodation and work and cooperation, and it's just so very STAR TREK, in a way even the most ambitious episodes of the original series and TNG never managed, for budget reasons and probably because someone, somewhere said "nobody would deal with that on a starship."

It makes the things that aren't present in the books, the diversity that no 1980s publisher would have allowed in such a mainstream property, feel less keenly absent. This alien is a genderless crystal whose experience of time is utterly beyond my understanding, I think, so of course there's room in this Starfleet for an autistic agender bisexual like me.

It's really uplifting in ways I wouldn't have expected before I really got into your Trek novels.

I'm glad the books have worked for you.

I think one of the things that may be working in my favor here is a tendency to take a series's (or IP's) professed themes and/or philosophies at face value, and run with them—treating them as if they're worth wholeheartedly accepting.* The fairly early statement of the IDIC concept would have been one that jumped out at me when (like all the other viewers in the mid-to-late 60s) I was watching Trek for the first time.

But something else that would always have been in the background for me was a very early engagement with, and enthusiasm about, the relatively hard-SF concept of More Alien-Than-Usual Aliens. This would've come from reading authors who espoused it: Heinlein sometimes, Ted Sturgeon sometimes, but also E. E. "Doc" Smith and William Tenn and Cordwainer Smith... and also, very especially, Hal Clement, who's too little-known these days and did some of the best aliens ever. Add all of these (especially Doc Smith's Lensman series) to a longtime fondness for the Green Lantern Corps, and you wind up with the general let's-get-out-there-and-have-a-good-time-with-our-extremely-alien-cousins approach of the Young Wizards series.

So when they and the Middle Kingdoms crowd (with alien species holding positions of prominence in both series) got me in the door at the print end of Star Trek, the tendencies I'd already been exploiting on my own turf more or less inevitably came with me. As far as I was concerned, the more aliens (or non-usual Earth-based species), the more fun I was going to have. And when it came to the IDIC thing, I didn't think Gene had mumbled. The more diversity, the better.

(No one complained about the unusual aliens, either. The nice thing about Trek-novel writing is the low special effects cost... since your readers do it all in their heads. Original Trek was always running into the "We can't afford that" thing, alas. Not a problem for me, though.)

Anyway: Trek is absolutely, from the ground up, a place where all possible diversity belongs. You could make a case that the Trek series that have least featured this aspect of that universe have in turn been the least effective ones. ...But I'll leave it to other people to argue that out. Myself, I managed to work a sentient-mathematical-concept-Green Lantern into a GL script one time. It'd be fun to do that (and figure out how to make it visual!) in Trek. ...Later for that.

Meanwhile: it's my pleasure to have been of service. Thanks for letting me know. :)

*See also the old idiom about "taking the King's shilling". If you're going to accept it, don't waste everybody's time on half-measures. Go transgalactic or go home. :)

#Star Trek #diversity #IDIC #Star Trek novels

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whateverloomis · 5 months ago

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Dilf!Billy Loomis who kidnaps the sweet lil reader that works at the local Spirit Halloween?

I've always wondered how Billy would kidnap someone because he 100% would lmao. This is basically a drabble, it's all I've been able to put out lately. Anyways, here it is! Hope y'all enjoy babes 🫶🏼

Warnings: FEM READER, kidnapping (honestly it was a willing situation but the intention was there lmao,) spiked drink, alcohol consumption, flirting, fingering, stranger danger (lol,) Stu Macher feature, unedited

Finally, your favorite season has arrived and you couldn't be happier. Fall. Halloween. Gloomy nights and a full moon. Ghost stories and pumpkin spice in the air.

It also means night shifts at Spirit Halloween. It isn't exactly the funnest job, but being surrounded by all kinds of decorations and costumes is worth doing it.

Tonight the store isn't as full as it usually is and you're almost grateful. The week has been chaotic so far and you definitely need a slow day, especially since you're at the register.

A few people came in and browsed the costumes but nobody bought anything, except for one. A man.

He's wearing a white tee with an oversized navy blue jacket along with light wash jeans. As you scan his body with your eyes you land on his black doc marten boots. It looks like they've been used quite a bit but they're still in great shape. You fixate your gaze a little too long on them, boots are one of your weaknesses and the man wearing them sure make them look extra hot. He must be in his 50s, but fuck does he look delicious. It's odd for you to find older men attractive but when it happen you're practically weak at the knees.

You continue looking at him as you suck on a lollipop you stole from a random aisle. With the view of the attractive man studying and touching the Halloween masks your brain got creative, and you definitely wouldn't mind having his cock in your mouth instead. Gosh, what a slut. Thinking that way about a complete stranger? Who does that?

It doesn't stop you from entertaining yourself with the thought as you feel the sugary bulb against your tongue.

"Do you have another one of these available?" the man asks and snaps you back to reality. He's holding a ghost face mask and you can't help but imagine him wearing the damn thing.

You nod and search for another mask from the pile of items people decide not to buy last minute, and luckily you find another one.

After handing it to him, you pull the lollipop out of your mouth, "Anything else I can help with?"

You noticed how he looked at your lips when you removed the candy from your mouth and smirked, "Mm, no, I have everything," he responded and you instantly got flustered.

"So, are you new in town? I haven't seen you around before," he asks, making small talk.

"Yes, I moved here a few months ago. It's pretty nice, I didn't think I'd like Woodsboro much..." you trailed off and Billy looked at you with a questioning look,

"Is it that boring here?" he continued and you laugh shily, "No, I just don't really have friends to hang out with..." you say and the man frowns.

"Well, I can show you around if you'd like. I know a nice deck with a mini bar down by the Woodsboro lake. It's really nice at night when there's a clear sky." he said and you mentally curse yourself for being tempted to go hang out with him. A stranger. But you couldn't help it, it's been a while since you hung out with someone and this guy is incredibly hot.

Your mind is racing but before you reason with yourself, you accept his invite... Billy Loomis' invite.

•

After a brief walk and a few drinks at the mini bar you were already letting loose and getting flirty with Billy.

"Wait, so he fell in the water with his suit on?" you asked, giggling at Billy's story of Stu falling into the hotel pool where their prom was hosted in '96. You were sitting rather close to the man, your thigh touching his while you faced each other.

"He really did, the idiot" he responded and took a swing of his beer. "We should all hang out sometime, I'm sure he'd like you." Billy continued and you blushed at his words. "Really? You think so?" you asked, shyness taking over. "Of course, anyone would like a cutie like you," he said, no shame in being straightforward.

You bit your lip and let out a breathy laugh. "I've never thought that way about myself..."

"Well, you should, I mean look at you" he continued and placed his hand on your thigh, running it up your skin slowly until it rested right under the hem of your short dress.

Silence fell upon you in an instant and the tension that was building went up a notch. Naturally, both of you leaned in and gave each other a few lingering kisses.

Billy pulled back and hissed, looking down at his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly. "Bars about to close... You wanna go back to my place?" he asked and you nodded slowly, following him to his car.

Once you reached the vehicle Billy leaned against the hood and pulled you towards him by your hips. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and continued kissing and it quickly got heated.

You might be a shy person, but when it comes to getting what you want? You don't hesitate one but, and at that moment you wanted him. This stranger that you met a few days ago.

It's reckless but you didn't care. The way that man was using his tongue to tease your lips and mouth was incredible and you could've stayed there all night but you needed more.

"Mm, let's go" you broke the kiss. Billy smirked and opened the door for you, looking at your ass when you walked past him to get in the car.

•

You found yourself straddling Billy's lap on the couch of his living room. The cabin he owns is relatively small but extremely cozy and charming in every way, just like him.

The sound of your soft moans mix with the crackling of the fire place. The make out session had been going on for a while and you were already grinding against his growing length. He feels big, and you can't wait to see what he's hiding in his pants.

Billy was careful with what he chose to do, he didn't want to scare you away after all, so he slowly slipped his hands under your dress and pulled it up and over your ass. You moved your hips quicker in response to his actions and he exhaled at the feeling of your pussy against his clothed cock.

He squeezed your ass and dug his fingers in your flesh before sneaking one of his hands between your legs. He rubbed your clit over your underwear, encouraging you to grind against them, and that you did. Slowly.

"Fuck... You soaked through these." Billy said while snapping the band of your underwear with his free hand, "I've barely touched you baby..." he continued and nipped your neck.

"Mm, please..." you said and grab his hand. "Need to feel..." you continued while you pulled your underwear to the side, moving his fingers inside your throbbing cunt.

"Fuck..." Billy moaned and finger fucked you from below imagining his cock buried inside you.

After a while his impatience took over and he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his torso along with your arms around his neck and into his room you went...

•

After Gods know how much time of fucking and playing with each other Billy offered you a drink, which you gladly accepted. After a few sips you went to the bathroom to clean up, and while you were away he took the opportunity to spike your drink. Of course he had alternate motives, and you were an easy target. Too easy.

Once you came back and took a few more sips of that drink you never thought you'd end up passing out... much less end up with your hands tied behind your back on a chair in the middle of a living room. A room that was comforting a few hours prior, but there you were. Confused out of your mind.

"Look who's up" you heard Billy whisper. His hand softly brushed against your cheek.

"Where... What?" you said while moving your arms around, feeling the restraints.

"Shh sh sh, we're at my place, remember?" Billy said softly. Why was he being so gentle in a situation like this? You had no clue, and it made the situation all the more confusing and frightening.

"What's goin- What the fuck?!" You lost it.

"Hm... Well, you see... It's a very interesting story, really. I used to study with your aunty Prescott."

No way.

"And I tried to kill her, but the bitch got away from me, so I thought... Hm, how can I get her attention again?"

"Billy... Don't" You started.

"Why not kidnap her sweet nephew. The one she loves like a daughter..."

"Billy..."

"Why not use these? Terrorize the town again... Terrorize Sidney again." He continued, holding the ghostface masks up. The ones you sold him a few days ago.

But why two?

"Am I late?" You heard another voice behind you. Turning around was useless so you closed your eyes hoping it was all a dream.

"Nah, I'm just getting started" Billy replied and the other man came to view. He handed Billy a knife and took his mask afterwards.

"YN, meet Stu." Billy said and Stu waved as if this were a normal everyday interaction.

"You. You're the ghostface killers..." you put it together quickly, all the memories of Sid warning you about moving to that damn town. How she wouldn't trust the silence.

She was right.

#ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #billy loomis smut #ghostfacesmut #billy loomis x reader #scream (1996)#billy loomis x you #stu macher smut #stu macher x billy loomis #stu matcher x reader

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hometoursandotherstuff · 11 days ago

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Why are my babies not selling? I came across several, just this morning. This 1959 mid-century modern in Waverly, TN was built by a Dr. and his wife, and was featured in the Feb. 1963 issue of Better Homes & Gardens. It has 6bds, 4ba, 4,415sqft, and has been relisted for $560k. It is a gem.

The double door entrance foyer. (Damn! They need a door mat, look at that carpet.) Anyway, note the unique rounded platform to the left.

How cool is this? It's like a little stage, and it even has built-in seating. Even if you put a karaoke machine up here, it would be a hit with guests.

Then, the rest of the audience sits down here in the living room.

Next to the living room there's the dining area. You get the custom made drapes and look at the pattern. What could be more classic than lily pads?

But, the star of the show is the kitchen. The Doc went all out for his wife, and they upgraded it at some point, but kept it pristine. Pink cabinetry, with curves, pink laminate counters. And, it even has the original linoleum on the floor and the ceiling of light.

Look at these features- 2 desks at the end of the kitchen. They double as dining surfaces, too. This side is like a little office. The wife can do her thing here, or the kids can do homework. It's so versatile.

Look at the counters.

What it looked like, originally, in the magazine feature.

There's also a large matching laundry room/pantry.

Here's the Mrs. sewing in the laundry room.

Is this not a fantastic wall in the family room? All pinked out and storage galore.

Look at the unique lighting in this corner. Open those doors for a surprise.

Can you believe the size of this sunroom? And, it opens to the deck.

The Doc had an office in here.

This is a nice suite. Who doesn't love a bathroom mural? The sink looks like new, and I think that's a sunken tub. I like the built-in desk in the bedroom, too.

This bedroom has a beautiful built-in meant for the bed, but they cleverly stuck a loveseat in there.

The primary bedroom & ensuite.

It's been nicely updated, though.

Down in the basement there's the lime rec room and bar.

Plus another bedroom w/matching lime built-ins.

The big deck at the back of the house and the beautiful pool.

The property is 1.9 acres, so it's a large lot.

Cute little sheltered patio area by the pool has a dressing room and a bathroom.

Very convenient.

On the side of the house, there's a private patio for the primary bedroom.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/205-Hillwood-Dr-Waverly-TN-37185/41521959_zpid/?

#mid century modern homes #MCM architecture #homes that didn't sell #houses #house tours #home tour

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inkubuzzz · 10 months ago

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I'm sure people already know about it but I just discovered Ellipsus, the writing software, and oh my god its amazing?? It's nice and simple like google docs (Microsoft Word is too complex for what I need) but it also has a lot of features that docs was lacking, like folders and multiple drafts. Def recommend it, esp for fanfic/other creative writing endeavors!!!

Plus its FREE. With all features included and no ads!!

(And you don't need to worry about it selling your data for AI or deleting your docs for 18+ content since google docs does both of those things!!)

#writing #author #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writing #ellipsus #writing software #ao3 #ao3 writer

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fine-nephrit · 10 months ago

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🥏 Where to find good XF fanfics

👽 On Tumblr

@lilydalexf has an encyclopedic knowledge of fics and continues to be an invaluable resource. You'll find a boatload of themed fic lists, individual rec posts and helpful answers to anon asks.

@txf-fic-chicks-blog seven years of almost daily recs, with well-written blurbs and a lot of fun, run by @kateyes224 and @piecesofscully. Look out for their themed days: "Casefile Monday", "Tumblr Tuesday", "Editor's Pick Wednesday", "Post-Ep/Missing Scene Thursday", "Novel Length Friday", "Smut Sunday", and the very cool "Because You Watched"

@msrlibrary a well-tagged library of MSR fics; each entry includes a short excerpt and a nicely chosen image from the show.

@201daysofxfiles a rewatch blog by fandom veteran @wendelah. Each episode in season 1-7 is paired with its own fic rec post.

@enigmaticxbee an aesthetically pleasing and neatly organized rewatch blog that is packed with great content, including excellent fic rec lists categorized by season, story type, trope, and more. Each episode guide sometimes features related fic recs.

@thatfragilecapricorn30 posts one fic rec every Friday, accompanied by a nice writeup.

@randomfoggytiger curates many fic rec lists sorted by often fun and creative categories.

@cecilysass has a google doc titled "fics I love", which is a fantastic fic list categorized by story type, complete with thoughtful blurbs. She's also shared two episode-related fic rec lists on Tumblr: here and here.

@pookie-mulder writes a monthly fic journal with good recs.

**self-promo plug** I post fic recs on my Tumblr blog @fine-nephrit under #nephrit's fic rec. Plus, I reblog others' fic recs that I come across!

👽 Rec Communities

XF Book Club: the best thing ever, an absolute gem that deserves to be preserved for posterity. During its run, 270 fics were recced and discussed in depth here. The community's intelligent and insightful comments on this blog are sometimes even more enjoyable to read than the fics themselves.

The Fic Filter (xf tag): well-curated selections with short blurbs.

Multifandom Het Recs (xf tag): a major rec site's xf section that offers nice "why this must be read" writeups. @het-reccers

Crack Van (xf tag): another major rec site with a big xf section, featuring endless recs and blurbs

Fancake (xf tag): another major rec community's xf section boasting an extensive thematic tagging system

👽 Personal Blogs

Emily Shore aka Naraht: meta essays, fanvid recs, fic recs—great stuff aplenty

Bad for the Fish aka Scarlet Baldy: fantastic fic list paired with highly enjoyable reviews and analyses of the fics she's read. @badforthefish

Ramblings of a Mind Untamed: reviews of a dozen or so classic fics

xxSKSxx XF Fanfic Recs: still active in 2024! @xxsksxxx

X-Libris: more of a fic library, this is the best place to download nicely-formatted ebooks of pre-AO3 oldies. What I love most is the incredibly detailed and extensive tagging system.

👽 Individual Rec Lists with good writeup

Character Manifesto - Dana Scully: a character analysis and 10 Scully-centric fic recs, categorized by "best of .." selections. Amazing format and choices!

Character Manifesto - Fox Mulder: same format as above for Spooky

bachlava's awesome fic rec essays, covering classic fics and slash fics

ShipRecced blog's classic MSR fics and newer MSR fics recs

luminary's 16-fic rec post

RivkaT recs fics and writers @rivkat

Anna Otto's favorite stories

Syntax6's rec list on her site, great rec list on Tumblr and FTF rec list @syntax6

👽 90s Old School Rec Sites

The Basement Office - Musea: a treasure trove of extensive fic lists with lovely written blurbs, recced by a group of talented writers from back in the day

The Other Side - Fanfic Recs from Beyond the Grave: a large collection of 'scary' or 'spooky' story recs with nice blurbs. Beautiful web design.

the Rookery - Favorite Authors: nice commentary on a list of classic fic writers

X-Files Fanfiction 101: an intro guide to fic categories and what to read for each

The Primal Screamers: a fun site run by a mailing list that hosts fic recs with blurbs, and a 'Coffee Talk' section full of delightful discussions of canon

Idealists Haven - Elemental Fanfic Archive: an archive with rec blurbs

Chronicle X: a large, well-organized archive with blurbs, plus a 'Can We Talk' discussion section of novel-length fics, plus a total of 46 author interviews. Simply incredible!

👽 Special Mention

The X-Files Lost and Found: a fic finder message board that is miraculously still very active today—How wonderful! Its FAQ page hosts a huge collection of well-categorized themed fic lists (not recs), including "Classics (or, Your Fanfic Education is Not Complete Until You've Read ...)".

Where do you find your next read? What did I miss? Reblog and share your favorites!

#x files #txf #the x files #txf fanfic #x files fanfic #msr

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loganhowlettshousewife · 6 months ago

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logan howlett x latina!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

“i need to learn spanish,” logan says out of the blue as you’re carefully doing your makeup. he likes to watch you get ready in the mornings, and though you don’t understand his fascination with the process you’ve been doing for years, it’s nice to have him around.

“is there a reason for this?” you ask, trying not to allow the conversation to distract you from the task at hand. you’ve gotten good at this, at both getting ready and talking to him, having conversations about everything and nothing, the kind of conversations he would never have with anyone else.

you met logan a few months ago, when he accompanied a group of mutant kids to canada, almost dying in the process to save them. he’d been on the verge of death when you found him, skin sallow and pale from the intense blood loss, breathing ragged. it hits you sometimes how lucky you are to have found him in time, to have been able to bring him back to his daughter - every day you’re infinitely grateful.

he’s struggled to adapt to life here. eden, a sanctuary for mutants that reminds him a bit too much of the x-mansion, the place where everything in his life went wrong. where he’d let his guard down little by little, letting people see past his mask, making relationships only to watch them all die. he could do nothing to save them.

so he hardly interacts with anyone other than you and laura kinney, his daughter, though lately she’s decided she wants everyone to call her laura howlett. the look on logan’s face when he told you was one you’d never forget: joy and fear and confusion, adoration for his little girl tinged with the anxiety of knowing that anyone close to him usually suffered terribly.

“laura,” he grumbles, which is the answer you expected. despite living in mexico for quite a few years, he didn’t pick up much spanish, and certainly not enough to understand laura’s rapid-fire quips. “she always says shit in spanish when she doesn’t want me to know what she’s sayin’.”

you laugh. laura’s a bright kid, and it’s true that she enjoys insulting logan in spanish, but only at the same frequency as her english insults towards him. most of the time her spanish comments are neither good nor bad, just stream of consciousness comments. she enjoys logan’s frustration at not being able to understand her, so really it doesn’t matter what she says, just that he hears it.

“i can try to teach you,” you reply, “but i’ve never taught anyone a language before, so be warned i may not be good at it.”

“a lot of people here speak spanish. i didn’t ask them.” logan says, “you’re the only person i can stand bein’ around for more than a few minutes, so you got a better shot than anyone else.”

you feel a rush of giddy excitement flow through you in response to his words. it’s not a secret that you find logan horribly, unbearably attractive with his salt-and-pepper hair and his beard and his deep eyes and his arms and honestly you could spend hours listing every one of his attractive features.

the point is, you want to kiss him stupid, and with the way he lingers around you in moments like these, makeup half-done and your bedsheets still rumpled from sleep, makes you hope that he might feel the same. maybe spending more time together is just what you need to figure it out.

“we can start tomorrow.” you agree.

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

latina reader: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @taextannie @gl1ndathegoodwitch @uncertified-doc

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azullumi · 7 months ago

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"ikaw na ang tahanan at mundo" ; aventurine

requested by anon — “Thinking about welcoming Aven back home after a long day of work. Thinking about telling him to sit down while preparing a bath for him.. (cont.)” premise — he crumbles underneath your gentle caresses and kind touch, of your kisses that soothes him of his burdens and pain, of your words that reassure him ; alternatively, you take care of your tired and exhausted lover after seeing his disheveled state as he comes home from work. content tags and warnings — pairing: aventurine w/ gender-neutral reader | established relationship, aventurine and reader lives together, fluff, domestic, not proofread | wc: 2.0k

note from me — my aven doc file is literally 74 pages long and has nearly 30k words in it jesus

The indistinct noise of the television dances to AVENTURINE’S ears as he pushes the door open and enters. Soft foot falls soon follow after before he finds you peering your head behind the wall, eventually coming to fully reveal yourself as you realize who was at the doorstep.

“Hey,” You greet him, a small smile on your face. Your eyes scan over his washed out form, his face bearing only fatigue as he forces a smile to greet you back—he doesn’t utter a word, just purses his lips into a small line that curves on the corners, but you don’t fret over it.

It is not a rare occurrence for him to come home after work in quite a disheveled manner: his hair tousled over (probably due to combing through it in frustration), his tie loosened, his coat held in his arms, and his hat nowhere to be seen (you figured he most likely left it behind his car). Yet, the man with golden hair—putting sunlight to shame—still looks beautiful as ever despite the weary lines that are etched into his features.

Aventurine walks to you, dragging his feat, and collapses his form over yours. You easily catch him in your embrace, stumbling back for a little bit. The faint smell of his cologne fills your senses as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, the brush of his hair tickling your skin.

You pat the back of his head, speaking softly, “Bad day at work?”

The man grumbles, heaving out a sigh, “Mhm, I’m tired,” His tense shoulders loosen underneath the comfort of your touch and he pulls you closer to him.

“Shall we move to the bed then?” He shakes his head as an answer, strands of his hair brushing against you and the feeling makes you laugh. You sense him visibly relax at the sound, letting himself be swallowed and consumed by the warmth of you.

“Do you want to bathe first? I’ll prepare it for you.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

Soft laughter bubbles from your throat, escapes from your lips, and wraps around the fatigue lines that trace his form like a blanket that soothes him into the kindness of your own. “There’s no need to thank me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Aventurine doesn’t have to say anything to let you know that he adores you and the way you are able to ease him into letting go of his burdens, to let it spill all over the floor beneath him, forgetting all of his problems behind as you guide him to sit down on the couch while you go and prepare a bath for him. The loss of your warmth, the absence of you in his arms, crashes a wave of dissatisfaction into him, but he doesn’t complain because he knows you’ll be back to him anyways—and so you did, moments later, with a small smile on your face and the lingering smell of lavender on you.

“Sorry for taking long,” you say, a gentle tone as you bent down and pressed your lips on his forehead, cupping his face in your hands. There are stars in his eyes, his cheeks painted in a light shade of red, as you begin to pour soft kisses all over, and he relishes underneath the light you shower him with—eyes fluttering close as he lets himself drown in the waters of your affection.

You don’t wait for a response from him, only letting your hands fall to tangle on his own and usher him to get up from his seat.You bring him to the bathroom where you slowly peel off every layer of his clothing, tossing it to the laundry basket in the corner along the weight of his worries. Your caress is soft, your touch lingering on his skin in a way that softens his edges, and Aventurine basks in this raw and naked moment of vulnerability; you look at him only with affection, with such form of adoration that simply does not need to be described nor be doubted.

(And there was a time when he had bared himself to you, a small voice composed by the songs of his fear and the melody of his anxiety would always echo inside his head: do you find him unsightly? Do you find him bitter and thorned, cold and flawed, boring and horrible? He thinks he is unworthy of your love, that he doesn’t deserve to carry, hold, and drown in the depths of your heart. But you kiss him, tracing the jagged lines, carving out pieces of yourself to satiate the hunger that runs deep beneath his flesh, running threads across his skin and yours.)

There are scented candles lit on the counter—lavender, like the scent that persists on you. The water is dyed in pink, tainted with a few streaks of red that is the same color of his love, and it is warm, gentle, seemingly melting away all of his thoughts. For a moment, he forgets the turmoil that persisted in his mind, wondering why he had come home in such a rumpled state.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at work today?” You gently part the curtain of silence that dawned in the space between you and him, as you begin to wash his hair while he relaxes in the tub. He doesn’t stay anything for a few moments, only watching the rubber duck in front of him as it sails across the calm current.

“Nothing much happened, just a long and exhausting day,” You could sense the hesitation in his tone and you decided not to probe any more; Aventurine doesn’t want to think about it, wants to forget about it, and you figured that it’s better to leave it than force him to hold on to the thorns. You’ve always known him like the back of your hand—it wasn’t hard to understand him, despite how harsh he thinks of himself.

You massage his scalp, golden threads weaved by sunlight tangled in a bubbly mess by your fingertips as you lather shampoo on his hair. Just as you were about to speak once more, he races you to it:

“And I just missed you.” Terribly, and horribly so. He leans against the porcelain tub, tilting his head back to meet your gaze, albeit your face seems to be upside-down in his view. Your hands pause from its movements and you stare at him for a moment, beaming a bright grin at him soon after.

“I know, and I missed you too. I was really lonely today.”

“Did you not go out and eat dinner with your friends earlier?”

“Well, yes,” your voice trails and you ask him to close his eyes, rinsing his hair with water from the showerhead. You pick up the words you have left off, “But I wasn’t with you.” You wished he was with you and that was the thing. He doesn’t exactly know how to respond without sounding like a complete fool that is utterly and stupidly in love with you, so he just sinks deeper, silently hoping to himself that you’ll see the words he desperately writes into the water.

Moments soon come to pass between you and him, just relishing in the silence. But the shrunken and creased skin on his hands, the once smooth skin shaped by the prolonged embrace of water, tells him that he must get out of the tub. Water cascades like rivulets down his body and you immediately hand him his bathrobe to dry himself and keep himself warm as you walk to the bedroom with him.

“Were you waiting for me to come home?” He asks with worry edging into his tone. It was already past 10 PM when you had greeted him by the doorstep, a time that is much later than the usual time he would arrive home.

“I always do. Although this time, I really managed to stay awake.” There’s a look of pride drawn all across your face, a warm and bright smile on your lips, and he couldn’t help but to smile upon seeing it, like your happiness was something contagious itself and he’s a willing victim of the disease. Having you here with him right now is quite an unusual scene. After all, he has gotten used to finding you asleep on the couch or in the bed whenever he comes home late. He welcomes whatever you may call this, nonetheless, finding solace and relief in your presence.

“You could have just slept instead, you must be tired.” You don’t fail to notice his conflicted expression and the murky depths of his eyes, his mind becoming clouded by the mud of his thoughts, and you sigh—not out of disappointment or anything of the same cloth.

“I don’t mind,” you reply, picking up the silk pajamas neatly folded on top of the bed, “Besides, I get to take care of you now. Here, let me help.”

(And maybe it’s a selfish desire that claws at his chest; he wishes that you welcome him in your embrace every time, that you caress his weary bones and rid of his exhaustion, that you press kisses all over his face and make him forget of the world around him, that you take care of him always and forever.)

Aventurine watches you with a gaze that holds only the light of his affection within, adoring the way your eyebrows furrow and your hands fumble as you try to button his shirt; he nearly chuckles to himself, but he holds in the melody in between his teeth, afraid that you’ll think he’s making fun of you.

“We haven’t really spent that much time together these past few days.” You utter with a gentle tone, words delicate and soft as to not appear as if you were reprimanding him. Although you know he’s going to utter words of apologies so you immediately cover his mouth with your hand, your eyes seemingly glare at him but your gaze didn’t hold malice nor hatred in it (it never did).

“No.” Was the only thing you said.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He says, his voice muffled against your palm.

“You’re a terrible liar, Rine. I know you were going to say sorry.”

He traces his finger across your wrist before weaving his hand into yours, uncovering his mouth that you concealed. There’s a faint smirk dancing on his lips, a subtle shade of red that taints his cheeks; “Wrong, I was going to say ‘I love you.’”

“Cheeky.”

“You adore me, anyways.”

You gasp, acting as if your deepest and darkest secret had been found out by the man you revere the most. “How could you tell?”

The soft sound of his laughter fills the empty space, painting the walls with the hues of his eyes, the song of his heart a veil that envelops you like a cradle. He rubs his nose against yours, breaths mingling so close to each other, but he does not dare to kiss you—he does not have to.

(Forever doesn’t seem that bad with you. Aventurine wants to stay like this forever, he thinks he could stay like this forever. It feels like a sin to be able to hold you in his arms, to have the divinity of the sun and stars locked in his own embrace.)

Too consumed by the feeling of him, by the words of affection that hangs in the air, by the giggles and chuckles that escape from your lips and his, you don’t notice the mattress that bears your weight and the blanket that enfolds you. One moment, you were asking him to bend down so you could dry his still damp hair with a towel then the next, he’s looking for your ticklish spots, ending with your limbs and legs tangled together in a cuddled form on top of the bed.

You feel him nuzzle his face closer to your chest and you play with his hair, combing through the threads of lovely and soft ravels of daylight.

You call to him in a tender cadence but you receive no response—the dull and relaxed rhythm of his dreams calms the currents of his consciousness as he lays with you. So you whisper, even if it’s only the silence that will hear, your words mingling with the dust in the corner of your room:

“Welcome home, Rine.”

THIS GOT TOO LONG OH MY DAYSS

#aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #hsr x you #honkai #honkai x reader #honkai imagines #honkai fluff #aventurine fluff #star rail x reader #azul.writes

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hyruleairbnb · 1 month ago

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I always was interested in natural phenomenons such as diseases weather conditions or mutations. I was working on a series of multiple images showing exact these thematics.

Please consider I portrayed them in loz species due it fits this account. I won’t make fun of one of these conditions. Thank you 👉🏽👈🏽

Im Not sure if Tumblr flags this in your country too but you can read more under the cut 👇🏽

Two headed fish

“Polycephaly is the condition of having more than one head. […] A polycephalic organism may be thought of as one being with a supernumerary body part, or as two or more beings with a shared body.

Two-headed animals (called bicephalic or dicephalic) and three-headed (tricephalic) animals are the only type of multi-headed creatures seen in the real world, and form by the same process as conjoined twins from monozygotic twin embryos.”

Two mouthed fish

I am not sure if this two mouthed fish is a case of Polycephaly too or if this is caused by another condition.

*edit* it's actually an injury not a second mouth. You can see the explanation in the reblogs list

Four legged chicken

“Polymelia is a birth defect in which an affected individual has more than the usual number of limbs. It is a type of dysmelia. In humans and most land-dwelling vertebrates, this means having five or more limbs. The extra limb is most commonly shrunken and/or deformed.

[…] A four-legged chicken was born at Brendle Farms in Somerset, Pennsylvania, in 2005.[6] The story was carried on the major TV network news programs and USA Today. The bird was found living normally among the rest of the chickens after 18 months. She was adopted and named Henrietta by the farm owner's 13-year-old daughter, Ashley, who refuses to sell the chicken.[7] The second (hind) legs are fully formed but non-functional.”

Overgrown beak

Beak abnormalities in birds have several reasons. You can read more in this article , due it would probably be too much for one post.

Stratified rocks

“Diplono Petris near Agios Pavlos in the south of Crete island is one of Europe’s most impressive folded rock formations. The rock strata document an alternation of different limestone layers in the pindos top of the Cretan ceiling pile. These sediments, once deposited in a deeper ocean basin of the Pindos Ocean, were deformed in the course of Alpine fold tectonics, triggered by the Northern Drift of the African Plate against the Eurasian lithospheric plate, which increasingly constricts the present-day Mediterranean as the remainder of the former ocean.”

Hexagon stones

“The Giant’s Causeways consists of over 40,000 basalt hexagonal columns, pretty much all systematically uniform in their shape. What caused this is actually not so unique to this windy coast of Northern Ireland. It is a common feature when a hot, mafic (basalt or dolerite) volcanic rock (either lava at the surface or shallow magma just below the surface) cools and contracts into a hexagonal columns (e.g., Kantha, 1981; Gray, 1986; Budkewitsch and Robin, 1994). The rapidly cooling lava cools from the outside toward the centre which causes contractions, and differences in the way it cools leads to the formation of hexagonal, prismatic column shapes (termed columnar jointing).”

These are some researches I made by my own I am not an expert in any of these fields. In case you have more information or wanting to add or correct an incorrect information, please go ahead and correct in comments or reblog (but be nice we just want to learn )

Thank you very much for reading 🙌🏾

#the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #tw body issues #breath of the wild #zora #goron #rito #totk fanart #botw zora #botw rito #botw goron #my art #digital art #mutation #rock formations #earth

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birdietrait · 2 years ago

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✿ The Home Sweet Home Legacy Challenge ✿

Info ✿

view on google docs

Use the tag #HSHLegacy so I can see your posts!!

If there are any rules that you don’t vibe with, just skip over them!

Some of the rules are centered around gameplay and some are more story-based!

You don’t have to complete aspirations or max out careers if you don’t want to, unless it’s otherwise specified in the generation’s rules!

Play with any lifespan you prefer.

Read one generation ahead to get all of the information you need!

Mods are allowed and encouraged; especially ones that make the game more realistic. I’ve linked a couple mods in some generations that can add to the gameplay!

If you have the more traits in cas mod, pick whatever extra traits you think would fit your sim!

Rules for the generations under the cut ✿

GENERATION ONE ✿

You were raised in the city by strict parents who pushed you to be the best student in school. Despite your ambitious nature you hated the fact that you had no autonomy or free time. When you became a young adult you packed up your belongings, your pet and your limited funds and you moved to the countryside. Your cottage is rundown and outdated…it’s going to take a lot of work (and money) to make it a home. You quickly realize you might not actually be cut out for this life, but you are too stubborn and proud to give up and move back in with your parents.

Traits: Squeamish, Ambitious, High Maintenance

Aspiration: Country Caretaker OR Freelance Botanist

Career: Start with a part time job and/or odd jobs until your sim ages up into an adult, then settle into a full time job of your choice. To make additional money, you can also sell harvestables from your garden or your farm animals (if you want to go down that route!)

Starting Out: Start in Henford-on-Bagley with your pet in a small, rundown cottage with 2-3 bedrooms. You can use money cheats at this point, but remember: small rundown cottage…don’t use those extra funds for nice appliances!! When your house is done, set your funds to 450.

Rules:

Your lot must have the ‘simple living’ lot trait

Reach level 5 in: Handiness, Cooking and Gardening

Befriend a few locals

Meet and fall in love with an outdoorsy sim with a large tight knit family

Spend every holiday with your partner’s family, and have a solid relationship with most (if not all) of them

Have 2 kids

Take a vacation for every sim’s birthday (if you can’t afford it, throw a birthday party on a public lot instead)

Renovate the cottage over time (get new appliances, wallpaper/flooring, etc.)

Optional Rules:

Play with the ‘off the grid’ lot trait

Max out Handiness, Cooking and/or Gardening

Make the sim’s parents and make them have a negative relationship

GENERATION TWO ✿

You grew up in a small, quiet town. After hearing about your parent’s childhood in the city, you were inspired to give it a try. You say goodbye to your loving family and set out for San Myshuno. You find an apartment and a part time job, then you get a few roommates to help with the bills. When you are faced with an accidental pregnancy, your roommates rally in support.

Traits: Loyal, Creative, Slob

Aspiration: City Native OR Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Max out the Retail part time job before quitting and selling paintings full time

Starting Out: Move into an apartment in San Myshuno with 2-3 roommates (you can use the roommate feature but I recommend actually having them in the household!)

Rules:

Max the painting skill

Have Game Night, or something similar, once a week with your roomies

Have an accidental pregnancy after a one night stand (if your sim can’t become pregnant and the other sim can, move the baby into your household when they’re born!)

Raise your kid as a single parent (with the help of your roomies)

Once your child becomes a teen, move out into your own place (it could be in San Myshuno or another world)

Marry as an elder

Optional Rules:

As an elder, marry the sim you had a one night stand with (that ultimately resulted in the birth of your child)

Become famous (because of your paintings)

GENERATION THREE ✿

Just as the expression goes, it took a village to raise you. You were a wild, rebellious child with a love for athletics. Even though you were surrounded by love as a kid (not just from your biological family, but from your parent’s roommates) you always wanted to have siblings. You end up marrying one of your childhood best friends and you settle down in a quiet neighborhood.

Traits: Family Oriented, Hot Headed, Athletic

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Career: Athletic

Starting Out: Move into a house in a world of your choice with your partner.

Rules:

Max the parenting skill and the athletic skill

Have 4 children

Reach the summit of Mt. Komorebi at some point in your life

Be a hands-on parent: play with your kids, build them a treehouse, throw birthday parties, be as involved as possible in their lives

Go through rough patches with your spouse due to your anger issues

Eventually decide to get a divorce after trying to make it work (or if you have RPO, you can opt for separation instead)

You and your ex-spouse must live on the same lot and continue to raise your kids together

Sleep in your workout shed in the backyard

Optional Rules:

Remarry your ex-spouse

Reach level 5 of the handiness skill

GENERATION FOUR ✿

Although you and your siblings were loved by your parents, the living situation after their divorce was not ideal. Because of that, you vowed to never get married. You head off to university immediately after graduation and start on your path toward success.

Traits: Ambitious, Noncommittal, Genius

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy OR Academic

Career: Business OR Politics

Starting Out: Enroll in University and move into a dorm

Rules:

Max the research and debate skill, and the logic skill

Reach the top of your career

Get the best possible grades throughout your life

Have at least two romantic relationships at all times…you are never faithful to one sim

Have two kids with two different partners

(Hesitantly) become official with one of your flings and move in together

When your partner proposes, reject them and have them move out

Go on a post-breakup trip with your kids to Sulani

Rarely discipline your children. In fact, rarely interact with them

Optional Rules:

Never retire

Move at least three times

GENERATION FIVE ✿

Growing up, your parent was pretty distant and you never had a great relationship with them. They were always working, talking about work, or spending time with their significant others. One of your favorite memories of your childhood was your trip to Sulani. You and your sibling decide to move out together and live there permanently. It’s rough living in a new place with limited funds, but the two of you have some creative solutions.

Traits: Loyal, Bro, Kleptomaniac

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Criminal

Starting Out: Move into a small house in Sulani with your sibling.

Rules:

Max the charisma skill

Reach the top of your career

Earn money from the criminal career, stealing and pickpocketing

Always maintain a close relationship with your sibling (who can also follow in your criminal footsteps, or work part time / odd jobs instead)

Throw parties regularly and pickpocket the whole time

Have a rivalry with another criminal that turns into love at some point

Your sibling eventually moves out…and your partner moves in!

Have one child

Have a super tacky over the top wedding

Optional Rules:

Max the mischief skill

(If you have this mod, you can pickpocket when your sim is younger! If you have Basemental you can also become a dealer to make money. If you have this mod, I recommend using the enemies to lovers interactions!)

And that’s all for now! I’m breaking this up into two parts, so the next five generations will be coming sometime (fairly) soon!

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #simblr #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #HSHLegacy #if you notice anything that doesnt make sense just lmk JKKJD #sorry it's kind of a lot to read lol <3 #ALSO! if you have any questions just send me an ask !!! <3

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