honeysunandsoil - HoneySunAndSoil
HoneySunAndSoil

mostly reblogs of the fics I read... mostly filth. 🔞minors do not engage! ('95-line)

453 posts

**this Work Is Still Mine, Ive Changed My Url From Ksjinandtonicfics To Honeymoonjin

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**this work is still mine, i’ve changed my url from ksjinandtonicfics to honeymoonjin

A/N: part of the Open for Business Collab as part of BSC’s Summer & Smut project. Check out the playlist that accompanies this fic here.

Escaping to Venice for a break from your strenuous job was meant to be simple. Go there, decompress for two weeks, and return feeling invigorated. But the soulful gondolier you meet on the docks in Saint Mark’s Square has you wanting to never leave at all. 22.7k words.

Warnings for sexually explicit content: an overindulgent amount of foreplay, oral (f receiving), fingering, body worship, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms (m and f receiving), impregnation kink, praise kink, dirty talk, two diff smut scenes.

—

Maybe it was his stillness in the chaos of the crowd that caught your eye. The way the bustling tourists and peddlers seemed to part like magic to allow you to observe him uninterrupted from the other side of the plaza. He stood there, calmly sitting on one of the posts at the inner side of the dock, reading an old paperback.

He was young; couldn’t have been more than 25, yet he wore the oddest outfit you had ever seen on a man his age. Deep navy pants, ballooning slightly around his thighs and coming in snugly around his knees and calves. A baggy, squarish striped shirt tucked into those pants, and a black beret. You were pretty sure gondoliers were meant to wear those flat hats with the ribbons that you had seen the rest donning, but you couldn’t deny that it gave his face a golden glow, framing the light brown hair and heavyset brows below it. Odder still were his glasses; rounded lenses with spindly silver frames, and a thin cord tied to the outer edges and connecting around the back of his neck. You had seen them before on librarians and elderly people, but never on a young adult like himself.

Picking your way through the crowds, you keep him in sight, observing the way he’d occasionally look up from his novel to check on his ornately carved gondola, as if he was expecting customers to just hop right on in. As you drew nearer, you can see a sign at his feet, propped up and displaying prices and rules, written down three columns: Italian, English, and what you recognised vaguely to be Korean. You let out a breath of relief. He did speak English, then.

You finally come to a stop directly in front of him, shifting your weight awkwardly, tipping your head to try and catch his attention subtly, but he seems entranced in the novel.

You can see through his splayed fingers that the ragged, yellowed book that has him oblivious to the world around him is Heidi. You could laugh at the thought of a man in Venice getting deeply absorbed in the world of a little girl in Switzerland, but instead it endears you to watch him for a moment, eyebrows twitching slightly in surprise every now and again, an unconscious smile playing at his lips.

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More Posts from Honeysunandsoil

3 years ago

Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

Summary: The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

Warnings: Extreme fluff and domesticity, cursing, mild angst, smut inclusive of: fingering, oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected penetrative sex 

** Click here to read on Archive of our own (AO3) should the read more on mobile not work due to fic length **

Ps. I Woof You

Thank you @readyplayerhobi​ for my super cute banner and @johobi​ for the gorgeous moodboard! ^^

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“Seriously?!” Sitting up with a suddenness that borders on miraculous given how fast asleep you were just a few blissful moments ago, you glare out into the darkness that fills your room.  

The wall opposite your bed may as well be vibrating, so insistent is the thud of bass that’s thumping through from the apartment next door, and if you thought you were pissed about being so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, that’s nothing compared to the indignance of your dog, Remi.  Barking her head off, you’re met by the sight of her pacing up and down the span of the wall once you turn on the light, blinking as your eyes adjust to the offending brightness.  

“This is just so not the time,” you hiss as you swing your legs out of bed and then stalk across the room to hammer your fist against the plaster, swearing under your breath.  Usually, you’re quite quick to try and stifle Remi when she gets her knickers all in a twist, but not right now - not when her yapping is perfectly justified and the dog next door then has the sheer gall to start barking back.  

“Oh, it’s on,” you grit out through your teeth, banging your fist against the wall with renewed vigour ‘til your fist is sore and Remi’s so worked up that she’s up on her hind legs pawing the paintwork right alongside you.  

Thankfully, your next-door neighbour soon gets the message and turns off his music, no doubt feeling cowed at having been met with such vehement disapproval from the opposite side of the wall.  You sigh, satisfied, but it seems Remi has no such intention of letting it go so lightly, her barking match with her nemesis next door carrying on despite the battle being over.  

“Hey, hey,” you hush as you squat down to her level, running your fingers through her fur, “It’s ok, you can stop now, Rem.  We won, it’s ok.”  She quietens slightly at the reassuring tone of your voice but, stubborn as she is, she remains determined to get the last bark in, growling low in her throat and staring at the wall until she’s absolutely sure that the dog next door has been forced to back down.  

She’s always been the same; vocal even as a pup.  She’s a canine of very few faults (or so you like to believe), but you’ll admit that she can be a little too loud at times - a little too quick to run her mouth off at the slightest unfamiliar noise despite you discouraging her from it as best you can.  

It was actually one of the reasons you and your ex broke up, as silly as that sounds.  He’d always been intolerant of Remi’s noise - of anything being anything other than perfectly perfect, frankly  - and the final straw had come when one day, in a fit of red-faced rage, he’d taken off his shoe and thrown it at her from across the room.   She’d yelped and ran off to hide, and that’d been it.  By dinner time that evening, he’d been in the process of moving out his things.  A two-year relationship over, just like that. 

Good riddance, as far as you were concerned.  Remi was your roommate years before he ever had been; your loyalties lay with her, as they do to this day.  

And boy, does she know it.  You think it to yourself now, as you lay back down in bed and she sits at your bedside with her chin rested on the covers looking up at you with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.  

“Oh come on then,” you grumble, shifting over and patting the space you’ve made for her atop the duvet.  She leaps up, tail wagging, and quickly circles on the spot before lying down snuggled up against you, exhaling noisily in contentment as you fuss her soft, pointed ears. “You’re never going to make any friends if you keep barking at everyone all the time, you know.”  Remi closes her eyes, utterly unrepentant.  

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3 years ago

mixtape (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader 

genre: smut, fluff, comedy / college, podcast personality au

word count: 15,610

description: Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

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“This week’s topic is—” Sugar started, of course only to be swiftly interrupted by the second half of the two-man show podcast that had sort of gone viral around your college campus.

But regardless of being cut short, the metallic nature of his voice still managed to worm its way directly into your chest, where it festered into something so captivating that you couldn’t help but sigh. It was cool to the touch as the syllables of his chosen words sent an intrusion of goosebumps along your arms and thighs. It had a certain gravel, a deepness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listened to him long enough with your eyes closed. However, more times than not, the grit would be severed with a vibrant laugh that rang so sweetly that you could feel it clamoring around your heart with giddiness on its heels.

“—Studying! So sexy, right?” Jay interjected mid-sentence, something that anyone who listened to their weekly episodes would quickly learn is a norm.

However, there were times of course where Sugar was allowed the courtesy of going off on long tangents without his friend’s interruption, and in those moments his voice was hypnotic, if you had to put it simply. It tugged you beneath the current of concentration until you were pressing the volume button on your phone to raise his vocals higher. The small hitch of his breath, or exhale against the mic when he would sigh due to the topic at hand, they made you lean in closer to the invisible man on the other side of the pre-recorded audio that filtered through your headphones.

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3 years ago

The Monogamy Monologues

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Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Rom-Com / Smut

Synopsis: The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend. (Part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club series)

Warnings: making out in public, oral (male), hair pulling, jk is kind of dominant but so is Y/N, face riding, nipple play, denied orgasm, dirty talk, jk is cocky, sope wear bathrobes without underwear 

TW: Past borderline substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms + depression/anxiety are mentioned. Yoongi is anti-toxic masculinity & encourages people to ask for help.

Word Count: 42,729

[[ CROSS-POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE ]]

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3 years ago

To all the ARMYs that have just had their hearts broken by the cancellation of the MOTS tour: I am so sorry this has happened. I didn't have tickets but I know how excited you all were. It really stinks that because there are some really selfish people in the world who refuse to wear a mask or refuse to get a vaccine you can't have the experience of seeing this set of concerts. I hope that we can take these feelings and the sadness and use it as fuel. As fuel to help people understand the importance of working together as a community to keep people safe and healthy. Teamwork makes the dream work and when BTS can finally have concerts again I pray that you can all get tickets again and who knows maybe I will too. Borahae!


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3 years ago

Cue, She | KSJ

Cue, She | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Angel)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Rating: 13+, (use of offensive language)

Genre: Romance, Meetcute, Idol!AU

Triggers: nothing except offensive language, cheating, Angel’s ex boyfriend and ex best friend are both deprecable — and, according to Seokjin, ugly.

A/N: hello, this is how Seokjin met Angel. Not much to say except I’m close to burning out and my goal is to get an update of Natural Connection and Sugar&Spice up next. Thank you for coming to my formal public apologies, Goodbye.

Also, this piece was edited by the one and only Mars, @joheunsaram. It is a pleasure to kill time with you (and to discuss all my plans which my readers won’t get access to because I’m gonna break their hearts LOL BYE)

Here’s my masterlist and here’s me leaving you to read peacefully. Enjoy 💜✨

Cue, She | KSJ

Your brain froze. You didn't know how that happened, it had just happened. You were crying, sitting at the foot of a staircase, trying to save yourself from the wave of melancholia that was washing over you.

You were drowning, falling, and it wouldn’t stop.

How stupid life is.

Truly.

Why did you have to find out something so vile through a dumb picture on a useless social platform? The person you had loved for years and a friend you had trusted like yourself getting engaged, showing off how stupidly beautiful it was to be in love — completely foregoing the small detail that you had loved them both and both had betrayed you.

You just sat there, feeling useless and forgotten, crying your heart out in ways you hadn’t in over a year.

“It’s my meal? Yes?” A voice came from a floor lower down. Or higher up. It echoed together with a squeaky laugh. You would have called it irony if you weren’t so miserable. And then a door smashed. Footsteps.

Silence. “Oh.”

You lifted your head from your knees, dabbing at your face with your palms. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you okay?” The lean man in front of you knelt down, looking into your eyes with a funny expression, his head curiously tilted to the side in perplexity, as if he were trying to understand a puppy — or rather mimicking it.

His hair was a soft auburn, something delicate and lively.

And damn, he was handsome.

“I’m okay, thank you.” You stood up, your ankle wobbling dangerously as you tipped forward, almost falling. He simply offered you his arm, helping you catch yourself as the sole of your shoe slipped over the edge of the step.

“Careful. What’s your name?” He asked, voice gentle.

You introduced yourself briefly, stuttering a little as you blushed all over, so embarrassed by your clumsiness.

“Okay, let's focus on putting one foot in front of the other, ____.” He smiled so warmly, his lips so adorable as they shaped into a playful expression. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and sniffled. As your eyes recovered from being two open fountains, you recognised something familiar in him. “Oh god. I'm sorry I bothered you, I'm not a stalker I promise, I was just delivering jewels for a photoshoot. I'm not following you or anything. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I'm so sorry.”

Seokjin shook his palms right in front of him. “It's okay, don't worry. So, why are you crying alone in a staircase?”

You looked away. It was too raw to talk about it with an international superstar — still, he sat beside the spot where you'd sat, opening his lunch bag and getting ready.

“My ex is getting married. To the girl he cheated on me with.”

“That ugly ass.” Seokjin searched for the sauce inside the bag. He found an extra pair of chopsticks and offered them to you, insisting that you took them. “Was he handsome?”

You thought about your ex. Even though he had been charming, all his beauty had disappeared from your eyes the moment you found out what he did to you. “Maybe he had been, when we were still— when I was younger. More stupid.”

Seokjin hummed, forcing you to eat a dumpling as he spoke. “Did he call you?”

You laughed. It was bitter and cruel. “I saw it from his profile.”

Seokjin turned towards you, wide eyed. “Really? You know what? Good riddance. Don’t bother with people like him.”

You nodded. “We broke up a year ago. It’s hard because they met because of me. I really conjured my own demise.”

Seokjin hummed. “That really sucks. Dumpling?”

You confirmed, showing him the picture before filling your mouth.

“His loss. You’re prettier than this one. Probably smarter too since you got rid of that prick.”

He made you laugh. The sound surprised him, it was crystalline, like the sound of wind bells outside of temples. It shook something inside him.

“I don't know.”

Seokjin looked at you, he really did. He drank in every detail, as if he was studying you.

You were really pretty in a way that reminded him of white collared shirts and little pearl earrings and cherry lip balm. And the more he stared, the more he couldn't stop looking, even as your hamster cheeks filled with food while you munched on a dumpling. “What?” you managed to ask through your full mouth.

He had his little quokka smile on next. “Do you wanna be friends?”

You placed a hand before your mouth, trying not to spill your food as you chuckled. “You're a busy person. A famous one too. Why would you hang out with someone like me?”

He shrugged. Chewed. Stared into the void. Why would he? “I'm bored. You lost a friend. You could use a new one. I don't have that many myself.” He meditated over his words. “Do you play video games?”

This time you managed to laugh, your mouth being empty. “I do.”

“Then let's play videogames one of these days. I'm free this Friday.” He was very convincing. Very sure of himself too.

“Are you for real?” You were incredulous.

“There's a lovely pc-bang two streets down. We could hang out there.” He shrugged.

You looked around, trying to find someone to confirm the fact that he was asking you to hang out. You were still alone in the staircase. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “If you want to, of course. Just hang out. I don’t have many people who can hang out with me.”

He was probably trying to soften you up so you would pity him. “I’ll give you my number. You can call me when you’re free,” you conceded. You already knew he wouldn’t call. He’s too busy for his own good.

Still, he seemed to spark up as he quickly extracted his phone and looked at you expectantly. “Yes?”

You gave him your number, the procedure painstakingly slow as he typed like an old man. He was doing it thoughtfully, mostly because he wanted to find excuses to finish his meal with you and let your face unbloat a little after the crying.

“What’s your favourite type of snacks? For gaming.” Seokjin looked at you. He seemed to be typing that too.

You chuckled and stood up. “I like ice cream mochi. And strawberry Pepero. And peach tea.” You collected yourself.

Seokjin frowned a little. Were you leaving already? “You sure you don’t wanna eat some more?”

You shook your hands in front of you. “No, really. Thank you, though. I’ll owe you dumplings forever.”

“You can pay for dumplings this Friday!” Seokjin seemed to joke — he was dead serious.

You couldn’t seem to stop giggling. He was so endeared by it, so happy that he’d managed to distract you from bawling your eyes out. “We’ll see. Goodbye, Kim Seokjin.”

“See you this Friday,” he hollered before you exited the staircase, the heavy door slamming behind you.

The only trace of meeting you were the used chopsticks left on the step, on a paper towel. Seokjin stared at them, confused. He had been completely knocked down. He felt like he’d watched a major disaster happen.

He felt shocked. He didn’t know what to do.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asked. He sat down beside Seokjin and did a little perplexed expression at the extra chopsticks. “Who ate?”

Seokjin shook his head. “An angel.”

Hoseok stared into the void, a little taken aback at his hyung’s reply. He stayed like that for a couple seconds, then shrugged, grabbed the chopsticks and got himself a dumpling.

Cue, She | KSJ

It had been a long day and Seokjin was rather exhausted, still, after the shower, he decided he might as well hope you had given him your actual number. Opening his kakao, he searched for your name.

There you were.

Might as well send you a reminder, at least to reassure you about him actually meaning to see you again.

You seemed like such a nice person. And he did want to be your friend — you had lost so much and you had seemed so lost when he found you. He felt like he had to make you feel better. He knew that his need to be a knight in shining armour for you was absolutely useless and superficial. Maybe, after all, you didn’t want a saviour at all.

He shrugged it off. It was your choice, you would turn him down, eventually.

| Hi, it’s seokjin. We met in the staircase. I wanted to send you the address for Friday. What do you say, will you be free after 10pm?

Cue, She | KSJ

You were fresh out the shower when your phone vibrated on your nightstand twice.

It was an unknown number.

You had to blink twice when you saw the content. Seokjin. Kim Seokjin.

The address to a pc-bang.

A formal request about your favourite snacks while gaming.

And — oh god was that…?

He had sent you a picture of himself. It was a closeup of his face, mostly his eye, his strong eyebrow, the corner of his mouth and his fingers making his signature crooked v-sign.

You grabbed your Smash Bros case, covering half your face with it before taking a selca and sending it to him.

|Can you beat me at this one?

After five seconds, he was typing.

|I can try. Don’t make me ask about snacks again.

You spent almost an hour exchanging screenshots of snacks and drinks that you like eating while gaming, discussing pros and cons as if you were going to spend millions of won on them.

Before you could realise, you were already getting used to speaking to him as if he had been your friend for a lifetime.


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