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waterlilydrops · 1 month

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Unexpected Find

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

summary: As you were helping Lewis tide up the old apartment, you suddenly found out a video tape. However, as you inserted it into the VCR and pressed play, you realized just how interesting the content of this tape was.

word count: 4k

warning: 18+ only, nsfw, explicit sex content, threesome F/F/M involved Lewis, sex tape, reverse NTR, P in V sex, masturbation(f), slight Dom/Sub,spanking, dirty talk, blowjobs, mirror. If you feel uncomfortable, please exit promptly.

notes: When I saw the GQ video, I knew I had to write about it. Sorry not sorry for my dirty mind. English is not my first language, so feel free to correct me. And any ideas or advices are welcome.

As you were helping Lewis tidy up the old apartment, you suddenly found out a video tape. It had been forgotten behind his TV set, covered in a thick layer of dust. Initially, you thought it might be an old home video. However, as you put it into the VCR and pressed play, you realized what it was.

The overwhelming moans froze you in place as the trio on the screen writhed together, engaging in the most primal of human intercourse.

This is a sex tape.

And one of the main characters in it was your long term boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.

As you watched the intertwining bodies on the TV screen, it was hard to pinpoint your exact emotions at that moment.

Anger at being betrayed? Unlikely.

You knew deep down that you’ve been the only woman he’s been intimately involved with since being with you. The marker on the videotape clearly indicated a date from several years ago, serving as evidence of his past libertine at most. “Betrayal” was hardly applicable in this context.

Did it disgust you? You had never seen these two women in his social circle before, and it seemed like he had casually picked up two prostitutes and brought them back to the apartment you were preparing to move out of, playing threesomes on the same bed where you cuddled him every night.

But even through the screen, you could clearly see the latex stretched over his thick dick, not to mention witnessing one of the girls erotically rolling a condom onto him with just her tongue.

At least he used protection. You couldn’t ask much more from him at that moment.

With honesty, there was no anger, nor disgust. You stared at his muscular physique on the videotape, feeling all your rationality slowly slipping away, leaving only one thought occupying your mind.

Damn, he is really hot.

This is absurd.

As you watched your man being pleasured by two other unfamiliar women, eagerly licking the thick shaft that now finds its place inside you every night as you fall asleep, a clandestine and thrilling sensation swept through your entire body.

You watched as he confidently sat at the head of the bed, while the two women knelt before him, incessantly licking and teasing. You couldn't see that familiar shaft that had brought you countless pleasures peeking through the gaps in their heads - but now, it was held in the hands of two other women.

Lewis’s knuckles rested on the back of one woman's head, yet he didn't even spare a glance for them.

He first looked to one side of the bed. You knew there was a full-length mirror there. He squinted to admire the scene reflected in the mirror. Then his gaze pierced through the bed directly to the camera, as if he had sensed your presence, his bright black eyes staring straight at you through the space and time.

Instantly, you felt your pussy was soaking wet.

You always knew Lewis valued mental pleasure over physical gratification, but you never imagined he could remain indifferent even in such debauched circumstances.

If you hadn’t witnessed the whole scene, you wouldn't have believed that beneath his impassive expression, his impressive cock was being eagerly fought over by two women, being stuffed into their mouths.

His nonchalant expression was the best intense aphrodisiac for you.

You couldn’t resist him at all: that contemptuous desire for control, the aura belonging exclusively to the privileged elite, and the almost cruel calmness - as if no one could ever let him lose control.

But you had never seen him like this before. He was always passionate to the point of almost losing control.

He worshipped your body as if praying in a church, lavishing it with praise using the most eloquent language he could muster - his tongue would chatter incessantly, admiring your beauty in the most magnificent terms. Yet, incongruent with his tender words, his lower body moved with rapid and vigorous intensity.

He would use all his skills to coax your juices until it flowed, until it became thoroughly crimson and ripe, until your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. Only when he became the only driftwood you could catch in the wave of passion, he would he be satisfied, holding your hand tightly, sucking on your neck, bringing you to climax.

You found yourself distracted by thoughts of your intimate encounters, yet your eyes remained fixed on the screen.

Besides the women’s moans and his occasional sensual gasps, the air was filled with his carefully curated selection of sex music. You quickly recognized the song, his personal favorite - even now, he occasionally chose this song as the background music for your lovemaking sessions, as if he became particularly dominant and aggressive when listening to it, his actions was more rougher...

Rough, oh, that’s exactly what you crave right now.

It doesn’t mean you’re tired of his tenderness towards you in sex.

Occasionally, you just want him to treat you with the same lack of mercy as he does with slut. You want to be conquered and used by him ruthlessly, giving him seconds of surrender and climax, making you feel your unique value in his existence.

Just like how he treated those two prostitutes.

The mere thought of him teasingly calling you a “whore,” while ruthlessly humiliating you, made you instinctively clench your legs together.

Perhaps he could embrace you after this passionate lovemaking session, caressing your back and whispering apologies and declarations of love. But at least during sex, you seem to yearn more for the man on the other side of the television screen, who appears so effortlessly dominant and full of conquest in bed, making you climax directly with his cold and cruel yet handsome face.

The black-and-white video tape quality was remarkably clear, allowed you to even see every pulsation of the veins wrapping around his large phallus.

You may feel that there’s something not quite right with you.

Part of you is screaming in your mind: “Only I can suck this, only I have the right to take his glans into my mouth, whether licking or deep throating, only I can do it. If that shaft’s tip spurts cums - whether it’s precum or semen, it should be mine.”

That cock belongs to me.

But at the same time, another part of you feels that Lewis enjoying the services of two women simultaneously is truly intoxicating. Your inner pleasure cannot deceive you. You watched your boyfriend fuck another woman’s mouth, while your pussy lips continuously twitching, spitting out lewd fluids. You started to gently rub yourself, your face flushing with shame.

You watched as Lewis pushed away the woman, with complete indifference, who was fervently worshiping his cock - God, she even complained about it - and sat up on the bed.

He roughly pushed the other woman down onto the bed, lifted her legs onto his shoulders, without any foreplay, and began thrusting his huge cock into her without preamble, his back muscles tensing with aggressive contours.

You couldn’t help but let out a low moan, pushed your panties to the side and slid your fingers slide up between the folds.

You were masturbating while watching your boyfriend and someone else's sex tape.

It’s too much.

But this almost perverse behavior brought you an overwhelming pleasure.

Your teeth clenched, your right hand pressed against your clit, rubbing frantically. You imagined yourself as just one of his many women, becoming a jealous slut, kneeling between his legs, forced to lick and suck his thick, long shaft along with other women, waiting for this man’s favor. You had to resort to such lowly behavior to compete for his affection, to earn the right to be penetrated by his shaft.

“Look at the camera.”

You squint your eyes, feeling as if there are really two women watching you masturbate shamelessly. Meanwhile, your man is ruthlessly fucking another woman right in front of you.

But your gaze is fixed solely on him. You stared intently at his thrusting movements, watching the occasional sight of his thick member, constantly imagined how it would feel rubbing against your clit, how it would fill every corner of your body with its fullness, and the supreme pleasure it would bring as it moves vigorously inside you.

Waves of emptiness washed over your entire being from your lower body. You wanted to lay beneath him, pinned to the bed as he fuck you with wild abandon, instead of being left to satisfy your desires alone on the couch.

You are jealous of those two women.

Your teeth bit down on your lower lip, speeding up the movements of your hand, restraining the enticing moans in your mouth. Your gaze remained fixed on the screen of the television, watching as he thrust his hips, his cock pounding one of the women into a frenzy, occasionally emitting a sexy low groan.

Suddenly, as if sensing your fiery gaze beyond the camera, he brushed back his slightly disheveled braids with one hand, his sharp eyes locking onto yours. It was as if he was staring at prey he had set his sights on, his gaze devouring you.

Sticky liquid gushed out from within you. Your legs shivering lightly as you rode out your orgasm.

“Darling, could you help me…”

Lewis walked into the living room, his face filled with bewilderment as he loosened the half-tied tie around his neck. With just one glance, he noticed you lying on the couch, eyes dazed and legs still spread wide open, a puddle forming underneath you, soaking the sofa fabric with suspicious liquid, while droplets of juices trickled down onto the floor, and his “masterpiece” from years ago playing on the VCR.

He probably only stood there in shock for a few seconds before quickly piecing together the situation.

He hadn’t anticipated that the girl he had been carefully concealing his almost perverse desires from and treating as gently as possible would secretly yearn for his dirty and depraved side. What a surprise, isn’t it?

He licked his slightly dry lips, then simply pulled off the half-tied tie and tossed it aside, striding casually towards you. In just a few steps, his demeanor completely changed. His gaze turned sinister and dangerous, his strong figure almost completely engulfing you, the pressure overwhelming.

He bent down, leaning close to your ear, deliberately lowering his already sensual voice to a chuckle.

“Watching your boyfriend cheat on you with someone else in a video and masturbating to it. You really are a depraved whore.”

You lowered your eyes, eyelashes trembling lightly. Your legs, still tingling from the orgasm, couldn’t help but tremble a few times at his words, causing your butt to shake along with them. Lewis keenly caught the movement of it, his eyes instantly tainted with lust.

He ruthlessly slapped your still-dripping pussy, his demeanor intimidating. “So, my little slut, did you just sneak your fingers into the slutty cunt that belongs only to me?”

His touch ignited the desire deep within you once again, the emptiness in your lower body yearning to be filled by his manhood, longing to be thoroughly penetrated by him - not to mention your lewd sexual fantasies just moments ago. You looked into his eyes with a craving and anticipation that even you hadn't realized was there.

You wanted more.

“You know I will punish you,” he squinted, his cold and crazed expression blending with the one from the TV just now. His hand parted your pussy lips, exposing your tender flower, and he firmly pinched your swollen clit. “And you want this... right? you hungry little slut?”

“Are you enjoying watching your man fuck other women while you masturbate? Hmm, does it feel good to watch my cock slide into someone else’s pussy?”

The humiliation combined with the intense clitoral pleasure was almost too much for you to bear. You tilted your head back, emitting a pleasurable moan, your entire body tensing, toes curling comfortably on the sofa.

Lewis reached out and roughly pulled off your panties, bringing them to his nose and pretending to sniff them, then stared at your naked body expressionlessly.

You cowered under his gaze, the shame resurfacing once again, your ears burning hot, yet deep inside, you were eagerly anticipating what would happen next.

He delivered another harsh slap to your exposed butt, showing no restraint in his force, “Good girl, you’ll get everything you want.”

His large hands covered your butt, squeezing the cheeks, then he lifted you off the sofa, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. Instinctively, your legs hooked around his waist. He paid no mind to his freshly pressed trousers, simply sitting down on the water stain.

You blushed, emitting a low moan mixed with annoyance and shyness. Your whole body straddled his thigh, and you rubbed against it a couple of times. It slightly relieved the heat and emptiness.

Lewis lightly stroked your butt, leaving his handprints as if they were his exclusive signature on his property. He looked satisfied with his “work”, tilting his head to nibble on your earlobe.

“Now, let’s give the good girl a little reward,” his voice was muffled, “Do you want to suck my cock?”

Without hesitation, you instantly straightened up, your gaze towards his crotch bordering on crazed adoration.

He grabbed your hair, forcing your head down towards his crotch, inundating you with a tidal wave of male pheromones. He had no restraint, but the pain on your scalp was your best aphrodisiac. It seemed that ever since he appeared, your lower body had turned into a quagmire, and now it was escalating even more.

You immediately undid his zipper and pulled out the meaty shaft that brought you pleasure, your eyes revealing your true desires. Pressing your face against his fully erect member through his trousers, you eagerly breathed in the musky scent emanating from his lower body.

You rubbed your face against his cock, spit dripping incessantly, wetting his trousers because you forgot to swallow. Your spit mixed with his pre-cum, leaving a stain of unknown origin in his crotch.

“Do you like it?” Lewis watched as his girl, almost obsessed, rubbed against his penis. He felt an intense throbbing below, the swelling sensation in his chest almost bursting through his ribcage.

“Yes, sir…” You didn’t want to leave his cock for even a second. Your delicate lips pressed against it, nodding eagerly, intoxicated by his scent. The friction of the fabric made your face flush with heat. You continued to outline the contours of his manhood with your tongue, the fabric of his pants becoming disheveled.

Your rapid and hot breath sprayed onto his sensitive thighs, tormenting him in its own way.

“Take it out,” he commanded through gritted teeth, his voice husky. “This is the reward for my little slut.”

You lifted your eyelids, gazing at him in a daze, only vaguely noticing the veins bulging on his forehead, a sign of his long-held restraint. Underneath his calm facade, he was losing control - especially after his recent command. Trembling hands fumbled to undo his belt, unzip his pants, and eagerly retrieve the source of your countless pleasures, his massive cock.

“Look at the mirror,” he commanded, lowering his head. You turned your head to the side, seeing a slut kneeling between his legs, ass raised high, hands holding his monstrous shaft almost reverently. The stark contrast between the size of his cock and your face was striking, the steamy heat filling the air. Yet he remained impeccably dressed, leaning back on the couch - except for the dark cock you just extracted from his pants, ready for immediate use.

All your earlier fantasies seemed to materialize into reality. Blushing, you emitted a pleasured moan, as if abandoning yourself, burying your head into his crotch. His body was meticulously groomed, even his pubic hair. The coarse hairs tickled your face, every breath filled with his exclusive scent.

You pecked and kissed his vein-covered shaft, occasionally extending your tongue to lick every groove. Well-trained, you knew every sensitive spot on him, carefully teasing his coronal sulcus. His hand gently massaged your head, applying a slight downward pressure, the best encouragement you could ask for.

Struggling, you opened your mouth wide and took his massive glans inside, sucking hard, hearing his breath suddenly become erratic above you.

He’s losing control. You thought, your mouth hollowed out as you sucked, trying to hide your teeth as much as possible, the sensitive muscles of your throat contracting to please the man before you.

The TV still played the video of him with those two women, their moans filling the air. He whispered maliciously in your ear, “Arch your ass higher, just like them...”

You let out a whimper from your throat, feeling your lower body start to drip again at his recent words.

All your gasps and moans were muffled by his sex, lodged in your throat, leaving you with only the option to close your eyes and suck harder on that dick, trying to convey your enthusiasm and pleasure to him.

You weren‘t sure how long you had been at it, but you keenly noticed his balls starting to twitch, his muscles tensing – a clear sign that he was about to climax. So you sped up, eagerly licking and sucking, hoping for the cum you had been yearning for.

He sensed your intention and mercilessly grabbed your hair, forcefully pulling you away from his crotch, leaving behind a trail of lewd droplets. His dick, glistening from your attentions, was now covered in slick moisture. With one hand, he slowly stroked his shaft, seemingly easing the urge to ejaculate, while the other smoothly pulled you up from the floor and placed you on his lap.

“Do you want to be fucked in the same position as they are?" he whispered maliciously in your ear.

The TV in the living room was on all the time. You sneaked a glance at the screen, where he was pressing down on the woman who was on all fours, gripping her hair as he thrust into her relentlessly.

You suddenly felt like you had lost the ability to speak, shaking your head in confusion. There was a bitter sweetness in your heart, mixed with a strange sense of arousal.

He lowered his head and gently kissed your eyes, his hand blocking your view. Your eyelashes trembled in his palm, and you looked both lost and uneasy.

He regretted saying those words just then.

Lewis’s expression darkened slightly as he gripped his dick against your mound, but he didn’t rush to slide inside. Instead, he slowly teased your lips with his shaft. Your pussy had already been softened by the previous climax, and it eagerly and shyly sucked on his head, opening and closing with your breath. He greedily stared at the tender flesh hidden beneath your folds, his eyes already tainted by desire.

Even without penetration, the girth of his head brought you exquisite pleasure, not to mention his cunning use of the tip to tease your clit. Losing sight only made your body more sensitive, and each wicked prod from him made you tremble, every cell in your body clamoring for more.

The scene on his body could be described as a feast for the eyes.

Your delicate face was once again tainted by his lust, your cheeks flushed with a captivating blush, your succulent lips waiting to be tasted by him. He teased your pussy until sweet moans spilled from your lips, seemingly forgetting his earlier indiscretion.

He quietly breathed a sigh of relief, once again raising a playful smirk as he declared, “Now, the greedy girl will receive her reward.”

His thick cock mercilessly rammed into your pussy, spreading apart every fold within you and plunging deep into your depths. In the frenzy, your hands clenched his shirt, pulling off two buttons with his movements, revealing his muscular chest. No one cared about this ruined Armani shirt; all your attention was focused on the combine of your lower bodies.

Your pussy eagerly wrapped around his cock, the sensation tight, hot, and wet. But there was no discomfort; all emptiness was fulfilled in this moment. How long had you been craving this, perhaps since the videotape started.

He removed his hand from in front of your eyes and leaned in, biting down on your lips. His black eyes even glinted red with desire. His large hand gripped your thigh, the rough fingertips stimulating your exposed skin, forcefully pressing against your hips, occasionally letting out a rough breath from his throat. The massive object within continuously rubbed against every sensitive spot inside you, gently probing in circles at the cervix.

You felt weak all over, repeating his name incessantly from your mouth, your language skills shattered by the collision of his body's movements, only able to utter pleas with a hint of crying. Sometimes, you begged him to go harder, faster; then, moments later, you cried for him to go easier due to his relentless rhythm.

As your sweet moans suddenly escalated into a scream, accompanied by the tightening of your inner walls, a large gush of fluid erupted from deep within your womb while your pussy fervently squeezed his dick. You had reached climax, experiencing a squirting sensation. He turned his head, unlike before, biting into the side of your neck like a wild predator. With his low growl, you felt waves of semen spraying against your inner walls, almost filling you entirely.

Lewis held you tenderly in his embrace, enjoying the aftermath, then extended his tongue to lightly lick the red marks he had left from his bite - which would undoubtedly linger on your body for three to five days. His meticulously groomed hair was now disheveled due to the intense activity and sweat, yet after the aggression dissipated, he appeared strangely gentle and harmless.

He stood up suddenly, one arm still wrapped around you. This movement pushed his still partially hard cock deeper inside you, causing an unexpected sensation of weightlessness. Instinctively, you tightened your legs around his waist. He leaned down to grab the TV remote. Finally, he could shut off the noise.

Throughout the entire process, his large dick remained lodged inside your pussy, blocking the semen that would have otherwise flowed out due to gravity. His well-trained physique ensured that he could securely hold you in his arms with just one hand, without any swaying.

You sat astride his thigh, arms wrapped around his shoulders, your head resting on his tattooed chest. You were still immersed in the afterglow of climax, while he stroked your bare back, occasionally playing with your hair in his palm.

You lowered your head and took his nipple into your mouth, teasingly biting it lightly with your teeth, satisfied to hear his suddenly intensified breath.

You keenly noticed his cock inside you growing thicker and longer once again.

“There sir... all clean.”

“Ahhh... thank you baby.”

“Lew, I want to change the bed in the bedroom.”

“Hmm, we can get a bigger one.”

“And the sofa, change that too.”

“No, babe. There’s no need to change that. We’ve created beautiful memories on it.”

Here is part 2 :)

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #lewis hamilton smut

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nerdgirlnarrates · 3 months

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Even though it's been months since I switched from neurosurgery to internal medicine, I still have a hard time not being angry about the training culture and particularly the sexism of neurosurgery. It wasn't the whole reason I switched, but truthfully it was a significant part of my decision.

I quickly got worn out by constantly being questioned over my family plans. Within minutes of meeting me, attendings and residents felt comfortable lecturing me on the difficulties of having children as a neurosurgeon. One attending even suggested I should ask my co-residents' permission before getting pregnant so as not to inconvenience them. I do not have children and have never indicated if I plan to have any. Truthfully, I do want children, but I would absolutely have foregone that to be a neurosurgeon. I wanted to be a neurosurgeon more than anything. But I was never asked: it was simply assumed that I would want to be a mother first. Purely because I'm a woman, my ambitions were constantly undermined, assumed to be lesser than those of my male peers. Women must want families, therefore women must be less committed. It was inconceivable that I might put my career first. It was impossible to disprove this assumption: what could I have done to demonstrate my commitment more than what I had already done by leading the interest group, taking a research year, doing a sub-I? My interest in neurosurgery would never be viewed the same way my male peers' was, no matter what I did. I would never be viewed as a neurosurgeon in the same way my male peers would be, because I, first and foremost, would be a mother. It turns out women don't even need to have children to be a mother: it is what you essentially are. You can't be allowed to pursue things that might interfere with your potential motherhood.

Furthermore, you are not trusted to know your own ambitions or what might interfere with your motherhood. I am an adult woman who has gone to medical school: I am well aware of what is required in reproduction, pregnancy, and residency, as much as one can be without experiencing it firsthand. And yet, it was always assumed that I had somehow shown up to a neurosurgery sub-I totally ignorant of the demands of the career and of pregnancy. I needed to be enlightened: always by men, often by childless men. Apparently, it was implausible that I could evaluate the situation on my own and come to a decision. I also couldn't be trusted to know what I wanted: if I said I wanted to be a neurosurgeon more than a mother, I was immediately reassured I could still have a family (an interesting flip from the dire warnings issued not five minutes earlier in the conversation). People could not understand my point, which was that I didn't care. I couldn't mean that, because women are fundamentally mothers. I needed to be guided back to my true role.

Because everyone was so confident in their sexist assumptions that I was less committed, I was not offered the same training, guidance, or opportunities as the men. I didn't have projects thrown my way, I didn't get check-ins or advice on my application process, I didn't get opportunities in the OR that my male peers got, I didn't get taught. I once went two whole days on my sub-I without anyone saying a word to me. I would come to work, avoid the senior resident I was warned hated trainees, figure out which OR to go to on my own, scrub in, watch a surgery in complete silence without even the opportunity to cut a knot, then move to the next surgery. How could I possibly become a surgeon in that environment? And this is all to say nothing of the rape jokes, the advice that the best way for a woman to match is to be as hot as possible, listening to my attending advise the male med students on how to get laid, etc.

At a certain point, it became clear it would be incredibly difficult for me to become a neurosurgeon. I wouldn't get research or leadership opportunities, I wouldn't get teaching or feedback, I wouldn't get mentorship, and I wouldn't get respect. I would have to fight tooth and nail for every single piece of my training, and the prospect was just exhausting. Especially when I also really enjoyed internal medicine, where absolutely none of this was happening and I even had attendings telling me I would be good at it (something that didn't happen in neurosurgery until I quit).

I've been told I should get over this, but I don't know how to. I don't know how to stop being mad about how thoroughly sidelined I was for being female. I don't know how to stop being bitter that my intelligence, commitment, and work ethic meant so much less because I'm a woman. I know I made the right decision to switch to internal medicine, and it probably would have been the right decision even if there weren't all these issues with the culture of neurosurgery, but I'm still so angry about how it happened.

#I would love to do something about this but I have no idea how to #even the faculty that I do really admire and respect seem entrenched in some of these attitudes #it's really hard to convince people that women aren't traitors in the making #simply because we might get pregnant one day and need time off #oh I also heard people shittalking a resident that was on maternity leave #and saying she wasn't serious about neurosurgery #so it's just inevitable #I'm not the only female student that feels this way btw #there's a reason no women have applied to nsgy from my school in years #sexism #neurosurgery #surgery #medicine #medical school #med school #med student #medblr #my content #my text posts

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taylorman2274 · 16 days

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We Care About You (Part V)

You are forcibly summoned to Teyvat via dream trawling for answers. A long awaited discussion ensues...

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;

Word Count: 1.4k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch;

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After you had decided you were no longer going to play Genshin Impact, you felt as if a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders. Had the past few weeks really taken that much out of you?

"I suppose it did," you assumed as you were playing another game with your friend group. "I haven't felt this relieved in a long while."

You and your friend group spent many hours talking, laughing, raging, and sharing memes. When you noticed it was just past midnight, you felt that it was the best time to get some sleep. You bid goodbye to your friends, closed your computer, and went to take a quick shower.

While in the shower, thoughts began to ruminate in your head. "It's gonna be hard for me to find another game that will get me addicted as much as Genshin did. But maybe something in my backlog might work for now."

The thoughts continued after the shower, after brushing your teeth, and after getting in bed. "I almost forget what game I was playing before I started Genshin. Was it something I finished? If not, maybe I should go back to that."

Before long, you fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to you, your computer mysteriously turned itself back on and began to launch a certain application...

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"Do I need to remind you again how to perform Dream Trawler?" Xiao asked.

"Nuh-uh," Paimon shook her head, setting down a Seven-Star Lamp. "Paimon has a great memory! First, we offer incense with respect for Rex Lapis. Next, we meditate and think of our target. Then, we shout 'Bring Forth Sin'!

"It's 'Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin'," the Traveler corrected as they were adjusting the position of the censer.

"Right!” Paimon nodded, setting down another Seven-Star Lamp. “Lastly, we let loose a couple of arrows towards the two yaksha statues to... to uh... uhhh...".

"Tsk. Fools."

This conversation was taking place while the Traveler and Paimon were setting everything up for the Dream Trawler ritual. However, instead of going back to the two yaksha statues on the southern face of Mt. Tianheng, Zhongli suggested they perform the ritual at Luhua Pool.

"If my guess is correct, [Y/N] will most likely panic upon realizing where they are. If that's the case, it would be better for them if they weren't so close to the harbor. It's best if we do not attract any attention."

Both the Traveler and Paimon agreed. Neither of them wanted [Y/N] to be afraid. They only wanted to give them the warmest of welcomes.

"Are you two done yet?" Xiao asked, annoyed at how long it was taking to get everything set up.

The Traveler and Paimon walked up to Xiao. "Yep! Everything's set up just like last time."

Xiao nodded. "Good. Get ready to initiate the ritual."

The Traveler and Paimon nodded in return. They put the incense inside of the censer and began to meditate.

"Since we are dealing with someone from another world, I would imagine that a great deal of focus should be needed to summon [Y/N]. This is especially true since we have no idea what they look like. I'm sure Xiao warned you of the consequences this could cause should you not take this seriously.

Zhongli's words echoed in your mind as you put all of your focus towards [Y/N].

"Hmm..."

[Y/N], who has been with them since the beginning.

"Ohh..."

[Y/N], who has done their best to guide them along their journey.

"Ahh... Hmm..."

[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].

"Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin!"

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... ... ...

... ...

...

It's cold.

You shifted in your sleep and immediately felt the lack of bedsheets surrounding your body.

Instead, you felt... rock? Sand?

Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the cloudy midnight sky, trees with orangish-red leaves, and tall, rocky mountain peaks.

"...Wait. ...Why am I outdoors?"

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the moonlight.

"...And why does this look so familiar?"

You brought your hand to the ground to begin pushing yourself up, but stopped moving once you noticed the light blue glow surrounding it.

"What the hell?!"

Shocking the exhaustion from your body, you quickly rose up from the floor, nearly losing balance as you stood due to how light you suddenly felt. You looked around the rest of your body and found that you were completely surrounded by the light blue glow.

"This has to be a dream... This has to be..."

"My job is done. I'm leaving now."

Startled, you quickly turned around to find three familiar persons standing a couple of yards away from you.

"Huh? Why don't you wanna stay?" A floating pixie asked.

"...Paimon?"

A short, tattooed man with azure hair scoffed in response. "I don't deal with mortals."

"...Xiao?"

You let out a crazed chuckle. "I've got to be dreaming."

Paimon, oblivious to your decreasing sanity, shook her head. "Nope! We summoned you here via dream trawling. Isn't that great?!"

You were silent for a few seconds before you responded. "Dream... trawling...?"

Sensing that you were still confused, Xiao sighed in annoyance. "You are [Y/N], right?"

Hearing the sound of your name shook some sense into you, but you still involuntarily nodded.

"Good. When you're ready to send them back, speak my name." Xiao told the Traveler before disappearing.

However, seeing Xiao disappear right in front of your eyes shook you even further. "Woah...! That looked way too realistic."

The Traveler let out a small cough to grab your attention. "If you wouldn't mind, [Y/N]. We summoned you here because we've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Please, grab a seat."

They gestured toward a stone table that was definitely not there the last time you visited. They then sat down on the stone seat facing you. When they looked up, they realized that you hadn't even moved as much as an inch. Additionally, you stared straight at them, yet still appeared lost in thought. Sensing that you may still be bewildered about your current situation, they spoke up.

"You don't need to worry about anything, [Y/N]. There is nothing around here that will hurt you," they gestured to the seat again. "Please."

Had they been unable to see your chest moving in and out, both Paimon and the Traveler would have thought you to be a statue.

"This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real..."

Paimon shared a worryingly glance at the Traveler before floating on over to you. You were too oblivious to your surroundings to notice her approaching, but when she finally reached out a hand to tap your shoulder, you flinched back. Hard.

"Wahh! Sorry! Paimon's sorry!" Paimon quickly apologized.

Meanwhile, your brain was working in overdrive to assess the situation. "I felt her! I felt her! I'm not dreaming! I'm not dreaming! This is real! This is real! THIS IS REAL!"

"Paimon get back," the Traveler commanded, standing up from their seat. "They're in shock."

"In shock!? What do we do about that?" Paimon questioned.

The Traveler didn't respond, instead, they slowly began to walk towards you.

Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you noticed the Traveler approaching and slowly began to back up, raising your arms in front of your body. "No no no no. Don't come any closer."

However, the Traveler continued to walk forward one step at a time. They raised their hands up in the air. "It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay."

You shook your head. "No, it's not okay," you rapidly spoke, breathing loudly. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"Yes, you are. We summoned you here."

You backed up into a broken stone pillar. "Why?" you asked, looking behind you for a quick second. "What did I do?"

They stopped in place before a sorrowful gaze appeared on the Traveler's face. "You’ve done nothing wrong."

Silence hung in the air for an agonizingly long time. Finally, you spoke:

"...Nothing?"

The Traveler nodded. "That’s right. We just want to talk."

You slowly lowered your arms. "About... what?"

Both the Traveler and Paimon smiled. "About our future journey together."

Confusion set upon you once again. "What? But I… I said I was done."

The Traveler sadly shook their head. "We know, but we can't let you leave. Not after all you have done for us."

Paimon chirped in. "Exactly! You're our friend after all!"

Your breathing stopped upon hearing Paimon. After all that effort you put into making amends with them. After believing that it was all for naught.

"You... you see me... as a friend?"

The Traveler nodded, their smile growing bigger. "We do."

Silence fell upon the three of you once again. This time, it was the Traveler who broke it.

"I think it's time we all grab a seat. Shall we?"

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

Author's Notes: I was originally going to make this longer, but I once again struggled at trying to write this scene out. It's hard trying to figure out how people should believably react to this scenario.

Because it's never happened before, duh.

Anyways, the next part will be the end of this series. Stick around for the ending!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau x reader #sagau #sagau genshin #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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suguru-getos · 5 months

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Genshin Impact characters and how they comfort you (F!Reader):

A/N: It's been a while lovelies :P since yours truly touched Genshin Impact. In all honesty, the game remains to be my comfort game & the characters give me so much joy. Here's me, word-vomiting about them blorbos. ;)

Characters included: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Ayato

Neuvillette:

The only reason he hasn't cried (yet) is because he is thinking hard on what to do when you're blue. Would probably suggest that you and him go together for a walk! Hey! Don't judge him - a walk fixes everything. Besides, someone who hasn't had a romantic interest in centuries really needs to learn a thing or two. He doesn't mind writing an official application about his absence and walking along the streets of Fontaine with you. He knows the Melusine village brings you a lot of comfort so it's also his go-to place whenever he's feeling down. He tried making you taste different kinds of waters - yep, didn't end well for the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. However, lessons are to be learnt and he learnt them well! Now, he has realized that mostly, your sadness can be satiated with something delectable to soothe your tongue. He started with soup, well? Naturally.. though that didn't end well either. He now has realized what he might like, you might/might not. So, he takes the more aware turn & takes you to places you like, or sometimes doesn't do anything. Happily wraps his arms around you, kisses your forehead and doesn't say anything. Silence and hugs? Best! He's noticed you like that far better.

Ayato:

The Yashiro Commissioner is a cocky fellow, and sometimes a tad too overconfident. He thinks he knows you inside out; that's not something he refers from you though. He thinks it's because no one can ever love you more than Kamisato Ayato. (He is kinda right? Though what's worse is he is mostly correct about the things that you need.) Like - he knows when that period begins, and when the mood swings absolutely obliterate you; he knows some Fontainian chocolate, or Mousse will come to the rescue. Some dangos might also help. The Kamisato Estate staff is trained to not fall pale to your needs. You & him both know that with all the travel opportunities you accompany Ayato in, you do have taste-buds which would be bored with Inazuman food alone. Whenever there is something bothering you personally, Ayato would ask you to vent it out. He firmly believes in annoying you with persistent cooing and crooning of, "Hey Princess, what's got that pretty face so long?" / "Oh come now, don't tell me you would hide things from your husband? I feel judged already. Do I not deserve to know?" You do end up telling him everything - and while Ayato is surprisingly good at giving advices… you always like how he asks first, if you want him to listen, or give his opinions.

Alhaitham:

The Scribe of Sumeru's Akademiya who is also your boyfriend - usually takes the overly analytical route, rationalizing everything. So you often don't tell him about the things that bother you. Since he is so observant and keen however, you can never really slide something that's got you down under the rug either. "You are behaving differently." Alhaitham commented, "Usually when you come home, from outside… you freshen up." He comments at the lack thereof, watching you squirm under his gaze. Of course, whenever you feel down your mind and body send you in a slump. "Oh- yeah, I'll get to that." You quickly comment, though you're cut off by his tender hold on your wrist. "Course you can, something wrong?" Now he knows the 'Female Anatomy', as he likes to call it. Often going out of his way to explain your hormonal cycle, what you should do when you are in your leutal, menstrual, ovulation phases etc. You don't have to say much in certain times as such. Though he acts like nothing's the matter when you do vent about let's say - something at work/Akademiya; there have been instances where he would pay personal visits to some people for pissing his girl off. Duality? Yep.

Wriothesley:

'His' Grace; is extremely kind to everyone, and fair. You being his significant other, get your own perks from time to time. For example: He is always available for tea for his little one. He is always available to listen to you whenever. He considers it fortunate enough that you are willing to live in the Fortress of Meropide with him - he knows it's the harshest decision especially from someone who hasn't done any crime whatsoever. There are days when even someone like Wriothesley (who seldom goes out) makes sure that he visits the world up above with you. Might take you to the Opera, might take you to those fabulous boutiques, anything and everything fashion the second he notices your eyes glim. Nope, none of that is tolerated here. The prisoners have started calling you 'Her Grace'; while you do not prefer it, Wriothesley does not mind, he is fine with you being treated like someone treasured. That would ensure that people around you would tend to you also, when you're down. Damn does this man love body massages, giving them to you and watching your shoulders slump. He needs to be so careful with you though. Can’t be too rough else his little baby would break… <3

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within-your-eyes-if · 15 days

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May 1st Progress Update

Hello all!

Very long update, so I apologize ahead of time.

April has been an incredibly productive month for me. I've made substantial revisions and have taken some time to reflect on possible changes for the future.

There are decisions I made earlier in the development of this story that, in hindsight, could have been handled better. While I will continue with the upcoming update as planned, I intend to take additional time afterward to revisit and refine various aspects of the game.

I truly love this story and want it to be the best it can be. I aim to look back on it with pride and minimal regrets. These changes will be comprehensive, affecting everything from narrative elements and gameplay mechanics to the presentation on itch.io.

I hope this update doesn't cause any concern; rather, I want to share this as part of my journey in developing this game, a process that occasionally requires stepping back and reassessing to move forward effectively.

With that said, here are some developments I've been working on that I haven't yet discussed. If you have any thoughts on some of these, I'd welcome the insight:

Guilt System Overhaul: I'm currently refining the code for the guilt system. The upcoming changes will significantly alter how guilt is calculated and displayed, emphasizing the impact of your relationships. For instance, lying to a character you're romancing will carry more weight. However, I'm carefully considering how to balance this to respect player agency, recognizing that not everyone may want their character to feel guilty in such situations. Your feedback on this would be appreciated before I start making final decisions — edit: you are welcome to comment on this post! (Sorry ;-;)

Skill System Overhaul: The foundation for the new skill system is done and functional in a test environment. However, I'm still evaluating whether its inclusion genuinely enhances gameplay or if it complicates things unnecessarily.

Extensive Coding Overhauls: Overall, I've done so much coding that I couldn't begin to tell you what all I've done. I combined things to both organize and streamline (though this might just effect me overall).

There is more to share, but I want to keep some surprises under wraps for now.

Future Support Update: I am in the process of setting up a Patreon, which I aim to launch next month. Initially, I considered using Ko-Fi for all supporter interactions, but the exclusive access features offered by itch.io make Patreon a better fit for what I want to achieve.

On Patreon, I will be providing a couple tiers. While one offers more than the other, here's a general overview of what I'll be offering: detailed progress updates, sneak peeks, alpha builds, special acknowledgments, early access, among others.

Ko-Fi will remain available for those who prefer to offer one-time support. Your support, whether recurring or one-time, is immensely appreciated and makes a significant difference in the continued development of my projects.

Beta Testing: Given the aspects of Patreon, how I approach beta testing in the future will be different. However, I will continue as I did last time with this one.

This month, I am aiming to begin the beta testing phase for the new Vice System. In light of changes to the test's parameters, previous applications have been cleared. If you're interested in participating, please reapply.

Please note, this test covers a lot of adult content — you must be 18 or older to participate (though really, you should be 18+ if you're even reading my story *finger wagging*). Ensure you are comfortable with explicit content before applying.

Application is found here.

Tumblr Asks: I will be making a separate post soon to address the reopening of Asks. Please be patient with me as I work through a couple of reasons why it was temporarily disabled. I appreciate your understanding and look forward to hearing more from all of you soon!

Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the lengthy update, but thank you all for your patience as I continue refining and revising. Work on Chapter 3: Part Two is progressing, though there's still more to be done.

Wishing you all a wonderful month ahead!

#within your eyes if #wye progress update #wye general information #interactive fiction #work in progress #progress update #text based game

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celestie0 · 4 months

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𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

please read my blog’s rules before proceeding to my works! happy reading!

note 1. if you want to read through asks from readers that i’ve answered for any of my series, you can search with just the hashtag of the fic’s name! (ex #kickoff or #in another life, etc. w spaces if applicable!)

note 2. i don’t have a set update schedule for any of my stories, i basically just update whenever i finish chapters. if the story is still listed here, then it’s still ongoing and has not been discontinued

⟦ 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁! ⟧ ↓ ↓ ↓

𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂

kickoff [updated 3.15.24, wc 72.6k] ∘ soccer player gojo 𝗑 film major reader — college au | fluff, angst, smut ➸ masterlist

quest. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

in holy matriphony [updated 4.20.24, wc 7.8k] ∘ neighbor & realtor gojo x nurse reader — fake marriage au | fluff, angst, smut ➸ ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

quest. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, n have been taking care of your sick mom ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗼 𝗸𝗮𝗺𝗼

in another life [updated 4.4.24, wc 10.2k] ∘ bass player choso 𝗑 reader ft. fiancé nanami — punk rock au | fluff, angst, smut ➸ ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

quest. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

[these are all the ongoing series i have rn!]

#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #fanfiction #jjk smut #anime #fluff #angst #masterlist #navigation

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ivesambrose · 1 year

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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 💋

1. 2. 3.

Applicable to your future spouse/soulmate/partner ❤️ we're all connected either way xo

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected] with your name and query 🌙

Paid services

Feedback

Thanks for the tip 💕

Picture 1 (red rose bouquet)

I heard the lines, "I've got a burning desire for you baby." From that Lana Del Rey song.

You look sweet, soft spoken, well mannered, adorable, probably like a squishmallow to them and yet you can pretty much kick someone's ass if needed. You give them a, "looks like a cinnamon roll, could probably kill you." Vibe.

In their eyes your beauty not only lies in your face but also your determination, passion, it's about drive it's about power we go hungry we devour.

You're equal parts free spirited and equal parts razor sharp. Sometimes you just know exactly what to say, when to call someone out and when to be more compassionate.

You come off like an open book but it seems far from the truth, there are parts of you so hidden they crave to know yet can't help but be magnetized by the allure. So if you wish, they'd let you keep your secrets as long as you have an honest heart towards them.

Your magnetism, charm, beauty, loyalty, intuition, sensuality, voice, eye for aesthetics, literally everything is what sets you apart in their eyes. They know nobody can replicate the essence you have they wouldn't care anyway.

Picture 2 (colas with cherry)

Something about you is so eccentric they can't put a finger on it even if it's almost obvious. Your mind, body, face, hair, even your language. Could very well be that you have a cultural difference between them.

"they know so much, they know too way too much. I'm actually turned on."

You likely educate yourself a lot on different topics, different cultures, might be a polyglot too. You may have the most strange yet straightforward take on things, you could literally dip chips in icecream and eat them and honestly, they love it.

They love how weird you are in the best ways possible and they never want you to change.

They also see the side of you that can give really practical advice and be super caring and observant. They also really love the way you put certain outfits together or just your aesthetic in general.

They think of you when the most peculiar thing pops up like, "oh look a fruit bat. You know how likes fruit bats?" "Oh *insert name* would have liked this flower." "They would have loved to visit this place with me!"

If and when they're apart from you they think of how anyone would love to get close to you and honestly they get a little jealous.

Little snippets of you exists in their everyday life and more.

Your outlook, your perspectives, differences, your body language, facial features, feisty spirit, knowledge, assertiveness and "Ya I got this!" Attitude sets you apart in their eyes.

Picture 3 (strawberries dipped in cream)

You know that song by Isabel Rosa "you're so pretty it hurts, baby I'm yours..." That came to my mind.

You've gone through a lot of pain, you likely mask that with humour or channel them into your creativity, you're rather jovial, full of life and idiosyncraticities but underneath that you've gone through deep loss and turmoil. But you haven't let that make you a bitter person.

You're healing and yet you heal anyone you come in touch with. Honestly my chest feels heavy and my throat is tight, they want to hold you and just make you pain vanish.

They see you as being a lot stronger than them emotionally and mentally. They know you wouldn't judge them harshly and that being around you feels perfectly harmonious.

You're irreplaceable.

They're aware sometimes you need your space but regardless they want to be at arms reach for you.

Your faith in yourself and whatever you believe in, your goals big or small, your friendliness, your humanity, playfulness and creativity is what sets you apart in their eyes.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #PAC #pac tarot #pick a picture #pick a card reading

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devourers-of-god · 3 months

Note

Hello again! As I understand it, applications are still open aha... I hope I haven't tormented you (sorry, I'm just wildly delighted with your work, and there are too many ideas in my head)

In general... it seems to me that it is quite difficult for Sally to open up to people, despite the fact that he is a very kind boy. It seems to me that he may be shocked by excessive tactility and emotionality

So, what about an overly active f!reader who likes to hold hands with friends, and hugs at a meeting, and kisses on the cheeks (sorry, this is literally me, and at the same time all my friends are not particularly tactile, aha ...). I was thinking that the reader might like Sal... how do you think he would react? And yes, it can be either fan fiction or headcannons, whatever you want aha. I will read everything with pleasure!!!

HI!! thank you SO much for the compliments, you are the sweetest! You are SO right about Sal D: ANS ALSO you do not torment me !!!! the requests are slow these days and im sooo happy you're taking the time to ask me stuff !I will do a one shot for this lololsorry this took a while to write, I had exams, school and work :P BUTTT I got my drivers licence LOLLL okep thanks for your request!!! and if you ever have more ideas, it will be my pleasure to try and portray your ideas with my writing!

SAL X OVERLY AFFECTIONATE READER

Warnings: None, fluff ? u guys are not dating lololol

Type: Oneshot

Oneshot -

Everyone described you with few words; bubbly, a social butterfly and VERY affectionate. You were not shy to pour your heart out to someone when needed, but you also were the first one to help a friend in need.

You always thought that being this touchy and nice to people was just common manners, until you be friended Sal Fisher.

Sal Fisher was an interesting individual, his everyday life was affected by years of torment explained by his flashbacks. He wasted a lot of his youth because Sal was isolating himself, not talking to anyone, not even his father. Even though his ''beloved'' father wasn't trying to help him to begin with. Though, this caused the young boy to develop an awkwardness to someone's touch and Sally could not properly explain to someone how he felt, he couldn't quite put words on his true feelings. Being touched, brushed or even just the thought of all this, made Sal feel something he couldn't even express. Sal was hollow, basically a shell of a human.

You luckily moved to Nockfell, the infamous town that your family wanted to move in so bad. You and your family landed in the Addison's apartments, there you met the tall Larry Jonhson. It was easy to get along with this guy anyway, you found yourself very lucky that day because the metalhead introduced you to Sal Fisher. You two will eventually end up together, but you don't know that yet.

For you, it was love at first sight. You Immediately complimented the way Sal presented himself. Basically showering him with compliments, especially his mask and hair. It wasn't your fault that you're this friendly, its the usual y/n. Sal Fisher felt almost claustrophobic by your gestures, weirdly appreciated that. You were not aware but this boy is secretly craving compliments, being this lonely for this long had affected the poor boy.

As the weeks passed, you and the blue haired boy hung out often, which made you delighted. You two were eating lunch together while the others had an art project to complete. Mr. Fisher and you were discussing when suddenly Sal made you laugh, your reflexes got the best of you and pushed him gently. Sal smiled to himself as his face turned crimson. ''God you are so funny, you need to stop my cheeks are hurting!!'' You confessed as you chuckled lightly. ''Pretty sure my name is Sal ,y/n'' your crush responded. You punched his shoulder gently, just as a way of saying to shut it. You knew that Sal was not introduced properly to your love language, but luckily you asked his closest friends about all of this. They approved to you that the masked boy isn't disturbed by it. It motivated you to not hide your true self, since your upcoming boyfriend is fond of it.

In an instant, the bell rang. You got up quickly and held Sal's hand to make sure he's following. You didn't want to lose him in the crowded halls right? Or did you just want an excuse to hold his hand? Sal figured this out but never told you.

Arrived to his locker, you were so happy that day and your nature took over suddenly, you peeked a small kiss on the cheek of Sal's prosthetic. '' See ya Sal! Goodluck with your math test-'' You yelled out as you escaped. You were proud of yourself too, you really liked Sal and the only way to show it is with affection and physical touch. You could not believe you actually did that. The next class felt like it was the longest ever, the school system was seperating you from your future lover.

Meanwhile, Sal's train of thoughts was going faster than usual. He froze in place for a good 5 minutes with his face hotter than when he had the flu. He thought to himself that you might like him, but Sal reasoned himself after saying that you probably do that to everyone. He wasn't so special, he thought. Normally, affecting gestures are not welcome for Sal Fisher, but you stood out. He actually felt great in your embrace. Even though he's not quick enough to hug back sometimes, he melts every time.

''Man I know you like her, you don't even let us touch you dude.'' Larry said after Sal reported everything of today. Sal closed his locker door a bit louder than he should've.

''Fuck off Larry. She's just different I guess.'' Sal retorted, what's left of his face turned a tint of pink, ballet pink to be exact. Sal thought to himself that he was pleased that the school day finally ended, they could finally go home and play som- Sal's thoughts were cut off by you hugging Sal as a way of greeting. He felt his legs soften beneath him. Sal's heart skipped various beats. '' Hi Sal!! Oh hi Larry! What are you guys up to after school?'' You smiled wildly as you got closer to Sal, which made him shiver. Larry started to smirk in a more of an evil way ''Oh I'm actually busy tonight but I know that Sal wanted to hang out with you y/n'' Sal bumped into him ''accidentally''.

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away ''I would love to! My parents are picking me up today so- text me okay?'' You ended your sentence with a small wink directed to Sal. You quickly left to go in your guardian's car. Suddenly you didn't feel like walking like everyone else, you were so happy you skipped your way to the car. Sal's jaw was hanging since Larry opened his ''dumb mouth'' as Sal would say.

''Youre welcome my man!'' Larry chuckled.

'' Get lost.''

HELLO!! hope you liked it :) I don't know why, im less satisfied with this.. if there's anything you guys think I should add please feel free to share your thoughts with me!! Per usual, stay safe and MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!!! its currently almost 1 am lawd goodnight friends :) P-S: we're almost at 150 followers!!!!!! very exciting :DDDD thank you!!

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ivymarquis · 4 months

Note

Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!

I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)

Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!

The Exception to the Rule

Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)

Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”

Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.

The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.

John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.

“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.

“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”

This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?

“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.

“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.

“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”

Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.

“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.

It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)

He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.

The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.

The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.

“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”

Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.

“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”

Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.

“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).

Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.

But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.

The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.

Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.

“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.

“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”

It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.

Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)

It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.

The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.

“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.

The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.

The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.

Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.

At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.

Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.

Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.

Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.

The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.

Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.

One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”

The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.

He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.

One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.

“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”

“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.

“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.

“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.

On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.

He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.

Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.

The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.

Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.

“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”

He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.

But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.

“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.

To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.

Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.

And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #my writing

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eoieopda · 11 months

Text

meet me at the bar (ksj)

You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x AFAB!Reader Type: One Shot | Fluff w/ Smut | 18+ — Minors DNI Word Count: 7.5k AU: Law school, study-buddies, best friends to lovers, highly educated idiots in love CW: Bad jokes, Latin, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), Seokjinnie hits it from the back. A/N: My inaugural Seokjin smut is dedicated to my donsaeng-in-law (see what I did there?) @yoongiphoria, who is now embarking on this stupid, stupid gatekeeping journey IRL. Best of luck, my lil love. I'll be waiting for you on the other side of the war! MJ FIGHTING ~ Big ups to my other lil love, M, for beta reading 💕 I posted an epilogue drabble on 7/26/23. Also: This is written based on my experience in the American legal (educational) system. I was, frankly, too lazy to study up on South Korean law for a fanfic, lol. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

You are not spiraling.

You are a paragon of health and wellness, you tell yourself as you gulp down a mug of coffee that is still far too hot, like you’ll die without it.

More bitter than the taste on your tongue is the realization that you might die with it — your third cup in fewer hours. As far as you can tell, though, it’s a win-win situation: You’ll either generate enough anxious energy to finalize your property law flashcards, or you’ll drop dead before you have to review them.

And you won’t have to take that exam…

And you won’t have to pay off your student debt…

Besides, you figure, the stomach ulcer you’re likely inflicting on yourself will be infinitely less painful than dragging your under-caffeinated corpse through yet another day of studying. Another eight, consecutive hours spent forcing forgotten subjects back into your maxed-out brain.

It’s worth it, you repeat to yourself, though this gauntlet has turned out to be a full-time job that steals, rather than pays. You can faint on top of the finish line, so long as some part of you crosses it.

You should be used to it by now, running a marathon at a dead sprint. That’s all you’ve ever done — push yourself. You attended your first day of preschool and never stopped, never took a breath. Through elementary, middle, and high school; then for four years of university. Going, going, going.

Stumbling through that eighteenth lap around the track, you kept going because — well, being a student was all you’d ever been. That’s your toxic trait, you’ve since discovered. Your concept of self is rooted exclusively within the context of a classroom.

You didn’t know it at the time, but your decision to take the Law School Admission Test — or the HellSAT, as you’ve come to call it — might have been the start of a quarter-life crisis. But you didn’t stop there. No, you took that score and ran with it. Slapped it onto every application as a desperate plea for acceptance.

When you received your admission letter, you were a bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old with a bachelor’s degree and a vaguely defined dream.

Call it naïveté or call it gravitas, there wasn’t a doubt in your smooth little brain that law school was the logical next step to take. That being intelligent and hard-working made you well-equipped for the challenge that came with pursuing a Juris Doctor. After all, you’d spent nineteen years delaying gratification — what difference would three more make?

Within the first hour of your orientation, you — a professional student — had already learned something new: You were a masochist and, frankly, somewhat of an idiot.

Thankfully, you weren’t alone.

Sitting — dissociating, more like — at a nearby table was a lanky boy you’d first noticed on your tour of the law building. His glassy-eyed stare was aimed somewhere in the middle-distance, and even though his slightly agape mouth said nothing, it communicated everything. He was the only other person in that atrium who looked the way you felt: scared shitless and riddled with buyer’s remorse. A can crushed under the boot of self-doubt.

It was the first time you and your wobbly knees went running in his direction, but it wouldn’t be the last.

He was so deep in a daze at that moment that he didn’t notice the way you threw yourself into the open chair next to him, didn’t look up at the scrape of wooden legs against the granite floor beneath them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you announced your presence with words, however.

It was less of an introduction — the way people in a society tend to greet each other for the first time, ever — and more of a twister. Words whipped through the air at a dangerously high velocity, no syllable ending before you started on the next. Just one breath, a few consonants, and a pair of dark eyebrows shooting up to cower behind his bangs.

“Was — was that Korean?” He asked when you finally ran out of wind.

Judging by the way his wide eyes softened, you knew he wasn’t making fun of you. You’d simply scrambled his brain so thoroughly that you’d transcended the known limits of language.

More of a question than an answer, you peeped, “I think so. Maybe?” You wavered with a sigh. “I’m no longer confident that I know any of the things I thought I knew, though. So, um, don’t quote me on that.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. I didn’t catch enough of whatever that was —” He gestured vaguely. “— To even attempt to quote you.”

Within seconds and without knowing, he’d disarmed the bomb ticking away in your gut. He must’ve sensed it, too, because his face lit up so completely that you had to look away. One glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows confirmed that the sun hadn’t reappeared at that time of night.

That rush of warmth you felt then — that absolutely insane brightness — was powered exclusively by the grin taking up the entirety of his face. If that megawatt smile alone hadn’t rerouted your oncoming anxiety attack, the distinct, squeaking laugh that erupted out of his chest would’ve done the job.

You doubled over, either under the weight of your own giggling or with the relief you felt in finding someone equally lost. Eyes swimming with mirth, you wiped wetness from your cheekbone and snorted. “Was that a windshield wiper?”

“No, that was embarrassing.”

The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks went some dizzy shade of pink.

He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck with one hand and held the other out to shake yours.

“And I’m Kim Seokjin.”

Now, when the door of your apartment flies open without warning, it’s that same savior standing on your threshold. That designation may be melodramatic, but if that brown paper bag contains what you suspect it does, it’s deserved.

Seokjin, patron saint of breakfast sandwiches, flops down on the couch that stretches along the opposite side of your coffee table. From where you sit on the floor — hunched over your notes like a hobgoblin — you reach out your expectant arms and make grabby hands in the space between you.

You see mischief flash in his eyes, but only for a second. In the next, he’s pretending like he doesn’t see you; doesn’t hear your petulant little whines. He extends long legs out over the cushions, clutches the bag to his chest, and lets his head roll back to rest on the couch’s arm.

“Wanna know what I did today instead of practice essays?” He asks, eyes unfocused on the ceiling above.

All you actually want is whatever that smell is. You can’t stop staring at the bag of food in his hands. If you try hard enough, maybe you can summon some sort of psychic energy, make it levitate towards you.

He doesn’t wait for your response. “The math.”

“Huh?”

You frown; and as you do, you reluctantly shift your gaze from Seokjin’s hands to his face. He isn’t looking your way, but you can tell he’s grimacing based solely on the way his jaw twitches. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ground his teeth to dust over the past three years, given how often he makes that face.

In an attempt to ease the tension in his posture, you tease, “Didn’t we go to law school because we can’t do math?”

He cracks an unwilling smile. A tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. Without turning his head, he extends his arm out in your direction. In the split second it takes for yours to spring forward like a snake, that blessed bag dangles; the scent of sausage, egg, and cheese wafts through the air and restores your will to live. Clutching your prize, halfway to feral, you tear into it without hesitation.

As you bite off more than you can chew, Seokjin prepares his rant with a sigh, “So, consider this.”

“Mmphf,” you advise through a mouthful of greasy bliss.

“Bar exam prep takes eight weeks, right? If we’re only counting business days, that’s forty — forty days, for a minimum of eight hours each.”

He becomes more restless, the more he talks. Heated, he sits bolt upright and turns wild-eyed to you.

Oh, he’s gone full-tilt insane.

“Three-hundred-and-twenty hours, then. And if you think about that in terms of our clerk wages —” He slaps his hands down on his thighs for emphasis. “— at 2,625 won per hour —”

Then, he points to you, as if the increasing volume of his voice wasn’t already holding you hostage.

“— we’ve sacrificed nearly two million won in income, just by studying for this fucking test.”

You swallow down the last bite of your sandwich, which you downright hoovered while Seokjin took the path of most resistance. After clearing your throat, your interjection overlaps with his next point:

“Seokjinnie, why didn’t you just double our monthly —”

“That’s after we paid ninety million in tuition, hundreds of thousands on study materials and registration fees —”

You cut him off. “Is this your way of asking me to Venmo you for breakfast?”

He freezes, caught fully off-guard. Shocked eyes widen like you’re the ridiculous one. “Of course not!”

He waves you off like his thoughtful gesture is no big deal. Then, like he’s tired himself out, he sinks back onto your couch. From his back, he grumbles with crossed arms, “‘M just sayin’ that I’m tired of this shit.”

You can’t help but giggle at the pathetic pout working down the corners of his mouth. “Felt,” you agree, though it feels a little bit like a lie.

Truth be told, you feel more awake now than you did ten minutes ago, and you can’t attribute it to the coffee — not when the evidence so clearly indicates otherwise.

Over the course of three years, you’ve built up quite the case against yourself. You’ve made the following findings of fact:

Whenever he pops up, Seokjin brings your mood up with him. Even now, as he marinates in anguish on your couch, his presence gives you a reason not to beat yourself unconscious with the four-kilogram prep book that sits beside you on the rug. Makes you hate your circumstances a little less, if only because you share them with him.

And, for a rapidly deflating balloon, you have to concede that Seokjin looks stunning this morning.

Unlike you and your day-three hair, he somehow had the energy to wash his. The mid-sections of some strands are still damp; the parts that aren’t frame his face in fluffy waves. His shampoo is something fruity mixed with something crisp — grapefruit and mint, maybe? — and it floods your senses, causing question marks to replace any coherent thoughts you might otherwise have. You’d be lying again if you said you didn’t want to find out for sure how soft those tresses really are.

The verdict?

Well, the jury’s still out, but you know you’re guilty.

If being down this bad for your best friend isn’t a criminal offense, it should be.

You shake your head to clear it. To smother the flame licking up the inside of your belly, you grab the certified mood killer off the coffee table and hold it up in front of you. Surely, the cure for a sexual tension headache is an eight-centimeter stack of color-coded, neon index cards covered in information you shouldn’t need to memorize in the first place.

“Exam’s in one week,” you say with a shiver.

Seokjin rolls onto his side to look forlornly at you. You are not looking at his bare hip bone, which appears where the hem of his shirt shifts from the waistband of his joggers. Nope.

You continue the search for the point you’re trying to make. “I can barely spell mortgage, let alone explain what the fuck to do with one.”

“Don’t think I know what land even is at this point,” he sighs. Dejected, he lets his arm go limp. It spills off the edge of the cushion and dangles until his knuckles brush against the rug. “What is this property you speak of?”

Biting back a grin is impossible, so you press your lips together instead. Just like that — just by Seokjin being Seokjin — the hellscape you willingly walked into gets a little brighter. Maybe, you think, you can do this.

You look down for a moment to shuffle up the cards you spent the better part of two days preparing. As you stare down at the staggering amount of knowledge you might be tested on, you can feel the crease returning between your eyebrows. Your grimace is back, too, like a reflex.

If you make it through this experience without premature wrinkles, you’ll be shocked.

There’s shifting on the couch ahead, but you don’t look up until Seokjin breezes, “From this angle, it almost looks like you’re smiling.”

His arm is no longer dangling off the edge of the couch. His entire upper body is. Knees now hinged over the backrest for balance, he’s upside-down and smirking impishly at you.

He has to know you’re in love with him, right? How could he expect you not to be?

You clear your throat and arch a single eyebrow as a challenge. “What is the rule against perpetuities, Seokjinnie?”

Like you, he can recite it in full at a machine-gun rate of fire. It’s been beaten so far into your heads that you might utter it on your deathbeds, with your last gasping breaths.

“No interest in land is good unless it must vest, if at all, not later than twenty-one years after some life in being at the creation of the interest,” he responds with a smug smile. “Easy.”

It’s your turn to smirk.

“Great. Now, what does any of that mean?”

Without missing a beat, he fires back, “Does anyone know?”

“Absolutely not. Next question!”

Having had the same day, every day, for seven weeks straight, Seokjin is struggling. He’s spent hundreds of hours on the same routine, feeling beaten down and burnt out, all the while. It goes like this:

Every morning, he wakes up and goes for a run in a feeble attempt to feel something other than dread. After that, he eats a lackluster breakfast, and then he promptly chains himself to his desk. When he finally gives himself permission to get up again, it’s dark out; and he’s too brain dead to check the hundred or so notifications that amassed on his phone during his fugue state.

Scratch that. There’s one person he responds to, no matter what. As far as everyone else is concerned, though, he’s a ghost.

Today is the first day out of the last fifty-five where Seokjin doesn’t feel like his brain is being hydraulically pressed. For the first time in too long, he fell into an old routine; one he’s missed. It started with a shower — and honestly, that was overdue — then, he swung by the café he’s frequented over the past three years. There, he made his usual order.

One iced americano, and one sausage-egg-and-cheese croissant with extra hot sauce.

Before he walked back up the block, he downed the former, but he didn’t touch the latter. The latter wasn’t for him, anyways. None of the breakfast sandwiches he ever stops for are.

The subsequent hours looked semi-similar to the three-hundred-and-twenty he’s already devoted to studying. Well, sort of. To be clear, the subject matter still sucks, and he’s still angry that he has to touch it at all, but he isn’t waiting for the sweet release of death in the same way he has been all summer.

This might have something to do with the fact that, for the first time in nearly sixty days, he’s not on his own.

More than that, he’s with you.

Having switched away from covenants, easements, and servitudes, he feels a slightly less stupid. Contract law is a little more straightforward and a little less caked in colonialism. Unfortunately, after six hours of burning all his brain cells on shit like liens, Seokjin has begun his descent into madness.

The worms are digging in, he can’t focus, and neither of you can stop — fucking — laughing.

“I’ll give you a hint,” you giggle, shifting in your spot on the neighboring cushion. You give his knee a pat that feels a tiny bit patronizing, but that makes his pulse race, nonetheless. “It’s a Latin term.”

He snorts so loudly that you do a double-take, just to make sure it wasn’t a sneeze. You both stare at one another for a beat, then comes the eruption.

“It’s all Latin!” He roars.

To muffle the way he’s wheezing, Seokjin slaps his hands over his face. It’s already tear-stained from his abject failure to keep his shit together. At least he can attempt to hide how red he knows it is.

Your laugh comes straight from your belly. You double over completely when his comes out in squeaks, hand reaching out to squeeze his forearm. It used to bother him, the sound he made when he truly loses it, but it doesn’t any more.

How could it, when it makes you cling to him like that?

Wiping at your cheeks, you take a deep breath, then sigh, “Does it help if I give you the translation?”

He doubts it because you just pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, and now, his mind is blank.

Really, it’s a fucking miracle he graduated at all with you around. You and that face you make when you concentrate have always made it impossible for him to do so. It’s why he wasn’t paying attention in class when this shit was taught in the first place, he realizes now.

To cool himself down, Seokjin grabs the Camelbak bottle off the coffee table, realizes too late it’s yours and not his — oh, well — and shoves the straw into his mouth. He nods once, firmly, and sucks in as much water as he can.

It all sprays back out of his mouth when you say:

“Naked promise.”

He had always wondered what his life would look like if it ever flashed before his eyes. Now, he knows. It’s not a montage of his finest moments, the most recent of which would not have made the cut. All he sees is you, wide-eyed, glancing between him and the wet spot that’s now soaking through your sweatshirt.

You press your lips together, probably to keep from laughing in his face. It’s a valiant effort on your part and a kind gesture, but honestly, he doesn’t deserve it. His fingers twitch as he clutches the bottle, wanting nothing more than to dump the remaining water on his face. He embarrasses himself more often than not, but this stings his cheeks like a sunburn.

“I am —” he raises his hands, flustered, “So sorry. I don’t remember waking up in a sitcom this morning, but I, uhhh, clearly did.”

When you stand up, you’re grinning. And not in that scary way you do when you’re about to retaliate for some prank he’s pulled. No, that look on your face is genuine amusement.

Thank god.

You shrug as you cross your arms over your torso and grip the hem of your sweatshirt with both hands. “All good, Seokjinnie,” you laugh. “This needed to be washed, anyway. You see that coffee stain?”

No.

No, he does not see that coffee stain because the tank top underneath your sweatshirt is clinging to the wet spot as you tug the top layer up your stomach. He feels bad for staring — really, he does — but fuck, your skin looks soft. Like, so soft that he has to grip his water bottle to keep a grip on himself.

Eventually, your tank top separates from your sweatshirt. It falls back down to where it belongs, to Seokjin’s dismay, and the sweatshirt keeps going.

“Nudum pactum,” you remind him as you pull the drenched hoodie over your head. Playfully, you toss it at him. It smacks against his chest, splays out over his lap.

Once more with feeling: thank god.

You sink back down beside him on the couch, and he can’t help but notice that you’re the tiniest bit closer than you were before. It’s innocent, just your bare knee bumping his shin as you re-cross your legs. Still, it leaves his tingling through the fabric of his joggers when you don’t move away.

The silence surges as it settles, crinkling like static in his ears. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask him again: “What’s it mean?”

Uhhhh.

“It means —”

Unfortunately for him, the water he just forcibly ejected from his mouth didn’t help him. His throat is dry now, and he sounds strangled, he’s sure. The way you’re watching him so intently doesn’t help one fucking bit, either.

Are you doing that on purpose?

You nudge him physically this time, knuckles connecting gently and playfully with his leg. He wonders if you can hear his heart hammering against the wall of his chest in all of this quiet. You might, he figures, especially when you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Instinctively, his eyes flick down to the length of your neck. Without a curtain of hair in the way, it’s even more exposed skin that he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with. Making matters worse for him, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. His breath catches when he tears his gaze away, back up, and sees the way you’re looking at him now.

You are absolutely — without a goddamn doubt — doing this on purpose.

If that’s the game you want to play, Seokjin can play it, too. He turns away from you to set the bottle back down on the coaster he took it from. As he does, he finally answers your question — the nonchalance he’s faking even sounds convincing.

“It’s an unenforceable promise,” he replies casually. “One with insufficient consideration.”

He rights himself in his seat, stretches a bit further backwards until he’s resting comfortably against the arm of the couch. You hide it well, but there’s a hint of a pout on your lips when you clock the newfound distance.

Check, he smirks to himself, your move.

A flash of pink slips out. Your tongue wetting those lips before you prompt him more quietly than before, “And consideration is…?”

He slips up, makes the mistake of noticing the rise and fall of your chest as you take measured breaths. So, he sees, you’re buzzing with anticipation, too. He wonders if it’s him that’s having that effect on you, or the circumstances.

For all he knows, it could be pent up steam that you need to release. Stress weighing down your body that you want to get off.

Fuck, he wants to get you off.

He swallows thickly. “Can’t get something for nothing. There has to be an exchange, otherwise it’s meaningless.”

You say nothing, so he keeps talking.

“Quid pro quo, essentially,” Seokjin adds. He chuckles slightly when he realizes. “See? Told you. It’s all fucking Latin.”

The corner of your mouth twitches at his joke, but you don’t make a sound. The hand that previously pushed against his leg inches closer, just barely. It’s such a small shift that you don’t seem to realize that you’re moving it.

Maybe you feel that pull, too; the one he’s been fighting since you barged into his life without warning.

Maybe the consideration has been there from the start; a promise for a promise. I’ll jump if you do. Because it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? Since orientation.

Pulling all-nighters in the library, developing matching caffeine dependencies, getting sick too often from the strain of it all.

You and him.

Laughing quietly in the back of lectures, cold sweats through cold calls, bitching about unpaid internships while you spend indisposable income at the bar down the block without acknowledging the irony.

There are only two real differences between this night and that first one, he notes.

Now, Seokjin isn’t questioning every decision he’s ever made that led him to this point. He’s not scared shitless, not really. Not when you’re around.

You cut through the silence with a sigh that’s barely more than an exhale, so breathy that your voice dissipates as soon as it hits the air.

“Seokjin.”

He could probably hear a pin if you dropped one — can hear everything you don’t say. It’s all packed tight inside that utterance of his name like gunpowder, locked and loaded.

So, who shoots first?

You shift again. Now, when you speak, it’s deliberate and in a language he can parse.

“Tell me you want me, too.”

Bang!

His body answers for him, pushes off from where he leans until he can get his knees underneath him. He’s waited three years to kiss you, but he can delay gratification for the brief time it takes to overtake you. Pinned with his palms bearing weight on either side of your head, you wind up caged in and breathless beneath him. His right knee occupies the space between your spread thighs.

Again, it’s a miracle he’s made it this far with you around.

He hums, beyond pleased with the position he finds himself in. “Maybe. Tell me if I got the answer right.”

“Oh my god.” You toss your head back to the extent that you can, which admittedly isn’t far. Your frustration rolls off you in waves, heat palpable. “I’ll kill you, I swear.”

“Sounds admissible to me,” he teases further. He flexes an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an exception to the prohibition of hearsay evidence? Speaks to motive, I think.”

Seokjin has no idea why he’s riling himself up like this. If he could shut up — just this once — he could be kissing you by now. You seem to be aware of that fact, too, because you grip his shirt so desperately, one right move might tear it.

You huff out a laugh despite the circumstances, “This friendship is over, by the way, in case that’s not clear.”

That tiny smile on your face spreads to his. Not over, he knows, just modified. Amplified, finally. Knowing that, he continues to push his luck.

“Can I make one more joke?”

“So over!” You emphasize with a wail.

He takes a second to center himself before hitting you with award-winning drama, sincerity dipped in the kind of humor he never misses out on with you:

“You have adversely possessed my heart.”

Your jaw drops at how stupid that line was, but you reign it in just in time for his lips to crash into yours.

It almost knocks the wind out of him, the way the pieces fall with force into place. They slot together easily, just like you do. With fingers clinging, the weight of his body molding overtop of yours.

You kiss him until he forgets what life tasted like without your tongue licking into him, your little moans melting in his mouth — until you break apart, gasping for air. Panting, you ask, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting on you?”

He doesn’t, no, not at all. Thankfully, you take his stunned silence for what it’s worth. After relinquishing your grip on his shirt, you bring your hands up to cup his face gently in your palms.

With you touching him like this, he has no option but to stare down at you. Bit redundant, he thinks, since his focus has always been locked right here, right on you, by choice. Given that, it’s a little funny that he managed to miss every signal you’ve apparently sent him. But really, it doesn’t necessarily surprise him to hear that he’s even dumber than he thought.

You kiss him slowly this time, briefly, before nipping affectionately at his bottom lip. It drives him exactly as crazy as you want it to; makes his cock twitch inside his joggers, makes his brain foggy with a potent combination of fondness and filth.

Do you have any idea how many times he’s thought about this? He’s genuinely wondering because even he doesn’t know. He’s lost count of all the times he’s watched you nibble on your own lip and wished it was his instead. A million or more, if he has to guess.

Seeming to sense the way you've scrambled his brain, you nudge the tip of his nose with yours and giggle.

Seokjin can’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?”

“Thought of a good one,” you answer. Your smirk does his head in. The contrasting, goofy wiggle of your eyebrows squeezes his heart. “Better than yours, I think.”

He kisses you quick and hums, “Oh?”

You nod.

The suspense is killing him. So is the way your clothed cunt grinds ever so slightly against his thigh.

Fuck.

He wants you, he wants you, he wants you.

“You gonna make me come, Seokjin, or do I have to wait for you to file a subpoena?”

You may have to seek a refund for the prep course you paid for.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve learned best through application. You could read the same chapter, over and over, and not absorb a word. The same was true with lectures, even more so when they’re pre-recorded rambles by the weirdest adjunct professors known to man. Sure, you may eventually memorize concepts this way, but they don’t sink in deeply enough to stay. You can’t use them in any way that helps you.

To no one’s surprise, no part of your civil procedure lecture sticks until it falls into your lap.

Strike that.

Until Seokjin loses his balance in trying to take his pants off, and falls onto your floor with a yelp.

A moment or two passes while you stare at each other in shock, but that dissolves quickly. And so do both of you, right into another fit of laughter that makes your shoulders shake. Then, you jump to your feet and hold your hands out to him.

Seokjin accepts them, though he doesn’t rely on them at all when he stands back up. He seems more than content just to hold onto you, whether or not he needs you to keep him steady. You have no complaints, for once in your life.

Shaking his head, he chuckles, “Venue change?”

“I think —” You hum and kiss the column of his throat. He swallows hard enough that you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. So sensitive. “This is what they call forum non conveniens.”

He’s having none of that, and you don’t necessarily blame him. As it turns out, the shoe isn’t terribly comfortable when it’s on the other foot.

You’re lifted without warning, bent over his shoulder, and hauled off in the direction of your bedroom before you can even squeak in protest. You drop like a bag of dirt — albeit a beloved bag of dirt — onto your mattress once he reaches it; his lips are on yours to swallow the gasp before it can leave your mouth.

As eager as his mouth are his hands, roaming down the curve of your waist and over your hips. With fistfuls of the pajama shorts you hadn’t bothered to change out of, his head dips down under your jaw. The warmth of his breath is quickly replaced by that of his tongue, flicking a short, languid line along your neck.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he breathes. A shiver shoots straight down your spine and you keen, head crashing gracelessly back against the pillows. “Just like this.”

And he means it — you can feel how true it is with him settled between your spread legs. He presses his hips forward to meet your clothed cunt, cock teasing you through four goddamn layers’ worth of fabric.

His lips flutter against your earlobe just seconds before his teeth graze your flesh. He continues, voice vibrating through his chest to yours, “All the time.”

You outright whimper when he grinds against you a second time. Halfway to crazy, you knot your fingers in his hair and wrap your legs around his back in a silent plea for friction. So hungry for him that it aches.

“Seokjin, need — oh, god.”

You lose your train of thought the second his hand slides into the gap between your bodies. Long fingers slip below the waistband of your shorts and panties, too. He doesn’t stop there. Not with fingertips whispering over the mound of your cunt, not until he finds you wet and wanting.

So wet that you can hear it when the pad of his index finger runs along your slit.

His mouth curves against your neck, prompting you to shift your head on the pillow. You tilt your neck just enough to meet his eyes.

To your surprise, he’s not smirking. Not even close. If anything, he looks awestruck. Like he’s finally realizing what he does to you, how your body reacts to him. From the looks of it, that discovery is flipping his whole damn world upside down.

For once, Seokjin doesn’t crack a joke and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your tiny gasping breaths and the ripple of his fingertip swirling over your clit. Even the moan building in your chest gets the memo. It disappears somewhere in your throat when — fucking finally — that middle finger penetrates you.

And god, he sounds so wrecked when he finally speaks.

“Tried to imagine it a thousand times, you know,” he murmurs.

You clench around his finger as it curls upwards, shiver when he starts to stroke the sensitive spot along your front wall. His thumb picks up where his middle finger left off, pressing against your clit in a way that makes you mewl.

Seokjin only stops talking to kiss you deep and leave you dizzy. It’s too brief. If asked, you’d never be able to quantify what amount of time is enough, but you know that wasn’t, so you pout.

Ignoring your little whines, he continues with a hum, “How perfect you’d feel, if I ever got this lucky.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You laugh as you say it, but you’re dead serious: “If you keep talking to me like that, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

Marry me, why don’t you? Beautiful bastard.

“Threat or promise?”

He adds a second finger; and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore. No, the strangled sound you make while you grind against his palm isn’t funny at all, but you can’t care about that now. Your focus is stuck on remembering how to breathe. In, out. On the stars blinking behind your eyelids when they give up and flutter shut.

He works you open for him like he’s already attuned, like it’s the fiftieth time he’s finger-fucked you and not the very first. And, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing how little time it takes for him to pull you apart at the seams.

No one has ever made you cum with such little effort. You’re scared to learn what it’s like when he tries.

You catch the triumphant gleam in his eye in the split second before you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He’s earned it, you suppose, so you’ll let him relish the personal record he’s managed to set on his first time out. You might even let him brag about it, so long as he continues to make you tremble like this.

“Shit,” he chuckles low near your ear.

If he sounds muffled, it’s because you’re still waiting for your system to reboot. He knows this, knows how fucking sensitive you are, and slides his fingers out of you as slowly as possible. Still, those aftershocks throttle you; the unintentional stimulation makes you jolt.

“Yes,” you nod helplessly, squeezing your eyes and jaw shut simultaneously. “Shit is right. Perfect analysis, no notes.”

A chaste kiss is placed on your temple. It’s petal soft and subak sweet, but it functions like a defibrillator. Within a split second, he’s revived you. Eyes now open again, you exhume your face from where you buried it and blink up at him. Warm brown eyes light up when you reappear.

He’s so fucking beautiful that you almost want to avert your eyes. Key word: almost. You’ll drink in the sight of him until you drown, you think.

Seokjin looks concerned. With a shy smile, he checks in: “You okay? We can stop right now if you’re not.”

You don’t know who they are, but you know that they don’t make them like him anymore. Which is a fucking bummer for the rest of the world — just not for you. This one is all yours.

“You quitting on me, Kim?” You let your knee fall inwards to nudge his side, and you pretend not to notice how boneless you still feel. “Didn’t wait all this time to tap out early, did you?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, nonetheless. His warm palm massages the outside of your thigh affectionately, if only for a moment. Then, he pats his fingertips against the same spot. “Shorts off, champ.”

You follow his instructions and move to shimmy out of them, but not before snorting, “Champ?”

“Fine. Old sport?” He offers with a shit-eating grin. Your shirt smacks him in the face once you peel it off and chuck it at him. He pouts. “Hey!”

“Thanks, I hate it.”

He tugs his shirt over his head, launches it over his shoulder without looking. Your unabashed stare immediately clocks the slight hint of his abdominal muscles. Lean, but not sharply contoured in a way that looks painful to touch. Soft. Perfect, even.

What lab were you engineered in?

“For someone with so many opinions, you don’t offer many suggestions.” He shoots you a pointed look while he unties the knot at his waistband drawstring. “What’s your proposal?”

You’d love to bite back at him. Really, you would, but he pulls his boxers down alongside his joggers, and every meaningful thought you’ve ever had goes flying out the fucking window. All that’s left is I want you, I want you, I want you.

Automatically, you reach out with a tentative hand, craving nothing more than to feel his velvet length in your hand. To your surprise, he stops you. He catches your hand in his, lifts it to his lips, and brushes a kiss over your knuckles.

“Rain check, baby,” Seokjin smiles against your skin. There it is. That’s the one. “Need to fuck you, posthaste, or I’ll simply pass away.”

You open your mouth to comment; he breezes right past you. He points to the mattress, then to the wall to your left. “On your side, love.”

That works, too.

“Face away from me.”

Never in your life have you moved so fast, all but throwing yourself down where he told you to. As you land with a slight bounce, you mouth to yourself, Posthaste? Nerd.

A second slips by, then Seokjin slips into the space behind you. His lips tickle the back of your neck when he kisses the base of it, causing you to gasp yet again. Maybe that’s just how you breathe when he’s around — like you don’t know how.

His hand drifts down the length of your side, passing over the doughy flesh of your ass. He gives it a squeeze for good measure — because of course he does — but he doesn’t linger, not now.

That hand continues until you feel his fingertips scratch affectionately at the back of your right thigh. He doesn’t need to ask; you lift your leg, allowing your knee to hinge overtop of his hand. Now that his hands are occupied, you offer yours to assist.

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you wrap your fingers around his length. And fuck, there’s so much of it. Part of you wants to ask where the hell he thinks he’s going to fit all of it, but you’re not a quitter, so you keep your mouth shut.

Seokjin shivers under your touch, breath catching in his throat so blatantly that you can hear it right behind your ear.

“Hmmm,” you tease, squeezing the crown gently as you circle your wrist. “Does that work for you, champ?”

His forehead drops against your shoulder. The groan you force out of him is twice as long as necessary, followed by an unwilling laugh. “You’re right, okay? You’re fucking right. It’s awful. Just so fucking bad.”

Your thumb swipes over his leaking tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum waiting for you there. You’re relentless. “Sure you don’t like old sport better? Huh, buddy?”

“Baby,” he warns. There isn’t much heat to it, but it burns white hot in your core anyway.

The stretch of his cock does, too, when you finally stop fucking with him and start letting him fuck you. The breath he holds as he enters you slowly is let out in a shuddered groan when he bottoms out. Perfectly full and fully incapable of teasing him further, you simply melt back against his chest.

He’s careful to start, testing the waters and refusing to push you too far, too fast. You want more, though, you always have. Greedy, you rock your hips back against him to force him deeper into your weeping hole. He takes the hint, fingertips pressing bruises into the underside of your knee as he picks up his pace — and you’re far too blissed to care.

He pistons into you eagerly, deliberate. His hips clap against the flesh of your ass, but the sting of it all can’t compete with the way he splits you open. Makes you reach back to cling to any part of him you can get your hands on, claim whatever you find for keeps. Buried to the hilt, and somehow, he’s still not close enough.

You’re close, if your fluttering walls have anything to say about it. You’re babbling, too, so lost in pleasure that you can only repeat — over and over — how fucking perfect he is. How perfect for you he is.

Seokjin peppers kisses down the curve of your shoulder as he thrusts. It’s the only real indication you have that he’s at a loss for words, too; that he’s compensating for the quiet. He kisses you with an open mouth, teeth grazing the space he finds, leaves a mess on your sweat-slicked skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts. You mewl. “Can’t stop thinking about —”

“Just like that, please.”

“— how many times I could’ve —”

You wail, “Shit, Seokjin, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

The staccato strokes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. Not when he kisses the back of your neck again, and not when he murmurs directly in your ear, “— had you like this, if I’d said something years ago.”

Please, please, please.

It’s all you can say, again and again, as if he isn’t already giving you everything you want before you even ask for it. Responding to every movement you make, fucking into you with precision so that each vein of his cock brings friction where you crave it. Fucking you through your orgasm when it catches you in a riptide and sends you reeling.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice is soothing despite the recklessness of his thrusts. “So good for me. So fucking good.”

You’re still gushing when he snaps his hips forward and stills, cock twitching as he lets himself go inside of you. Still trembling when his head droops forward to nuzzle against your shoulder blade, and when you feel his breathing begin to slow in tandem with yours.

Once he pulls himself out of you, a few moments pass in fucked-out silence. It’s comfortable, if you ignore the mess between your thighs — and you do, for now. Your brain is too busy to waste time on that.

You’re exhausted and bordering on delirious when you say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true:

“I might love you, probably.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t move either, which makes you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with his face smushed into your bare back. But you feel the tiniest exhale through his nose; the kind of laugh you get from him when he’s too tired to be any louder.

His reply is muffled, lips still pressed against your skin, but you hear it perfectly.

For the record, he probably loves you, too.

Epilogue, posted 7/26/23.

final a/n: i have a follow-up drabble planned for these two! stay tuned 🥰

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @jihopesjoint @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @bbyorchid @persphonesorchid @quarter-life-crisis2 @zelchena @withluvjm @firesighgirl @whatthefsposts @iadelicacy @chimmisbae @cowboylikeyoongi @sailoryooons @axialitae @ugh-yoongi @minholykingofkorea @kookstempo @gimmethatagustd @Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhintothevoid

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imnameimswrld · 4 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝗖𝗟𝟭𝟲 ꒱꒱

━━ ❪ . . . charles x guitarist!gf ❫

━━ ❪ . . . description : charles has been liking an anonymous girl's pictures on insta for a while now, but with no face and just guitar pics to go by, fans are more than intrigued to figure out who his mystery guitar girl is ; ❫

━━ ❪ . . . smau ! ❫

━━ ❪ . . . warnings: none ❫

━━ ❪ . . . fc : winter of aespa ❫

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

thatguitargirl

liked by user, charles_leclerc, and 765 others

thatguitargirl big news coming soon...

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user face reveal 😁 ? no ? a girl can dream...

user how do I explain to people that ur my gf yet I don't know how you look ?

user this is the 67th post charles leclerc has liked... yes, I'm counting.

user ...what if...no...but ?

user I would let go of my parasocial relationship with charles for that duo.

⤿ user TOO REAL OMG.

thatguitargirl added to their story !

[ caption 1: thx to my baby for the bday gift ! a girl can never have too many guitars on her rack ;) ; caption 2: red is best ofc ❤ ]

thatguitargirl added to their story !

[ caption 2: now which one should I bring along ? 🤔 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by thatguitargirl, arthur_leclerc, and 797 224 others

charles_leclerc 🎸😘

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user now just wait a damn minute... is that who I think it might be ?

user NO FUCKING WAY-

user thatguitargirl ???

user and you all called me crazy – this HAS to be thatguitargirl girl.

user if this is the person that steps out onto stage tomorrow I'm going to throw myself on that stage and snatch her up.

thatguitargirl

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 987 334 others

thatguitargirl what a week !!! thank you sm coachella for having me and making my rockstar dreams come true, but a bigger thank you to all the people that cheered for me – and for all the notes you threw on stage with the most sweetest words written on them 🥺. ofc, thank you to my beautiful charlie for being there for me, every step of the way leading up go this moment ❤ - yn ln xoxo.

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user YOU. ARE. SO. BEAUTIFUL.

user guitarist and a face card that will never decline ? only w's for this girl.

user the way i entered heaven hearing you live.

charles_leclerc here for you always, mon amour 😘

⤿ thatguitargirl my forever boy 🤞❤

arthur_leclerc dude, that french rock song you did was wild, your french has improved IMMENSELY

⤿ thatguitargirl well, I did have a great teacher 🙃

⤿ arthur_leclerc I know, i know, thank me later with waffles 😊

⤿ charles_leclerc she's not even referring to you, you idiot.

⤿ arthur_leclerc sure she is ! I taught her some french too charles.

⤿ charles_leclerc yeah, all the swear words.

⤿ arthur_leclerc hey, those are VERY important.

⤿ thatguitargirl putain ouais !

[ liked by arthur_leclerc ]

⤿ charles_leclerc Y/N M/N L/N

user from this relationship alone my lifespan has increased by a decade.

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, thatguitargirl, and 876 335 others

charles_leclerc so proud of ma fille à la guitare 😍

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user this couple>>>

user ya'll...now that I think about it, I've seen this girl at races 😭 ! she always sat in the stands tho, with friends, but she ALWAYS wore a ferrari hat (no.16) – she's been under our noses this whole time !!!

⤿ thatguitargirl 😜😜😜

⤿ user cheeky and I love it.

landonorris alright, who wants to be ma fille blah blah whatever he said ? applications are open.

⤿ oscarpiastri brb gonna go learn guitar real quick.

⤿ thatguitargirl don't you have a gf ? 😭

⤿ oscarpiastri shhhhh yn 🤫

user landscar and charyn in one post ? I am being spoiled today.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #kpop #aespa winter #kim minjeong #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc ferrari #f1 smau #smau

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a-little-unsteddie · 4 months

Text

stuck in your throat || 2.1

[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4

i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.

ch 1, part 1

masterlist

By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.

He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.

Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.

Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”

“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.

“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.

“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”

“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.

“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”

“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.

He hated phone calls.

“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.

“I do, actually! Two.”

“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”

“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.

“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”

“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.

Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”

“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.

“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.

Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.

“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”

“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”

“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.

i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you <;3

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners

#and so it begins :D #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤#unsteddie writing

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starryknight-tarot · 11 months

Text

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾?

pile 1 -- > pile 2

pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hi! I'm Star⭐️ This is my first tarot reading on here so please be nice and let me know if the message resonates with you. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. If you have a hard time picking a pile, try meditating on it and pick the card that calls to you the most.

Pile 1

Cards: King of Pentacles, Two of Swords, Queen of Swords rx, Ace of Wands, Three of Pentacles rx, The World rx, Seven of Swords, The Sun

Back of the deck: The Hermit rx

I am getting that your future spouse will love your extroverted nature. If you aren't an extrovert, I feel like you might be the kinda of introvert that really opens up to the people that you are close to. I am getting that your fs loves how you can light up any room you walk in. Your fs adores your smile, they see it as brightest most beautiful smile ever. I am getting the thought that you are the sun to this person's moon. Pile 1 you are so cute! Your fs sees you as innocent and adorable. Your fs thinks you look like a cute bunny with the energy of a hyperactive puppy. Your fs loves how independent and strong you are. I feel like your fs knows they can rely on you. You know how to deal with haters and know when to walk away from bad situations and your fs really admires that about you. Like I am getting the imagery of you girl bossing (regardless of your gender, anyone can girl boss lol) and your fs watching in awe with hearts in their eyes. Your fs loves how you seem fearless and strong. I am getting that you have an addicting or unique laugh which gives your fs serious butterflies. I feel like your fs is a very reserved or shy person and it can be hard for them to express themselves but they feel like they can be themselves around and act more free and silly. You might also be shorter then them and they really like the height difference. Your fs also loves how determined you are to make your dreams a reality. You could be an artist just trying to make a career in something more creative. Your fs is your biggest fan and love watching you succeed in your goals and dreams. I am getting that you haven't met your fs yet or they love how you are always ready to try something new and introduce them to new things.

Advice cards:

The universe supports your stance and decision

Bring something new into your life

The key is the application, Practice!

Reflect on your blessings

It is time to take appropriate action

Practice the pause

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2

Cards: Seven of wands, Nine of Cups rx, Six of Pentacles rx, Strength, Three of Cups rx, The Moon, The High Priestess, Temperance

Back of the deck: Page of Wands rx

Your fs is absolutely enchanted by you. I am getting the phrase I've got you under my spell. You make your fs nervous in the best way possible. Just shuffling the cards I could feel how your fs's heart races as you make eye contact with them. I feel like you have dreamy but sharp eyes. I am getting if looks could kill lol. You have a very mysterious aura that people just wanna get to know. You could be a witch or like to wear dark clothes. Your fs loves how classy and clean you look. I just heard they like the way you smell haha. You might have a resting bitch face. Similar to Pile 1, I feel like your future spouse will love how independent you are but unlike pile 1 you give off more of a lone wolf vibe. Pile 2 your fs is an absolute simp. I am just seeing them drooling over you and willing to do anything you ask. Gosh darn it Pile 2 your fs sees you as sexy af. I keep hearing step on me lmao. Your fs doesn't just love your looks, they also find your mind very sexy. You are very intelligent and wise and your fs loves to listen to you speak your mind and talk about your interests. They love to see the passion in your eyes as you do the things you like to do and put your all into your work. Your fs loves when you can be vulnerable with them and share your struggles with them cause all they wanna do is help you. Their love language is most likely acts of service. Your fs loves your unwavering confidence in everything you do and the mystery of never knowing what's next with you.

Advice cards:

Put your tasks and goals in order

The conditions are primed. Yes it can happen and if you believe, it will!

Release all attachments that don't serve you

Get clear about what you want

Your acts of love, kindness, and unlimited forgiveness bestow grace upon you

Align your body, mind, and spirit with your heart

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3

Cards: Knight of Wands rx, Page of Pentacles, Seven of Cups, Ten of Wands, The Sun, Five of Cups, Eight of Swords rx, Knight of Pentacles rx

Back of the deck: Ace of Pentacles

Your fs loves how hardworking you are. They admire sparkle in your aura as you put your all into what you are passionate about. I am getting that they love watching you believe in yourself and push to achieve your goals. It's giving the energy of someone that has their whole future planned out in front of them. I heard you are the person of my dreams. You are the Amy Santiago to this person's Jake Peralta (some of you may be Brooklyn 99 fans). I am getting that your fs just loves being in your presence. Your fs loves your sense of humor and they feel like they could joke around with you for hours. Your fs loves how free you are. They aren't the kinda of person to hold you down and prevent you from doing what you are passionate about. Your fs love the way you communicate and express yourself. I am getting that your fs may have been raised in an environment where the communication was really unhealthy and hard to speak your mind. I feel like you will help them learn what healthy communication is and they are really thankful to have you in their life. Your fs will love the quality time that they spend with you just being yourselves. I feel like your fs may like to slow dance with and feel close to you. You look like you came out of a victorian painting to you fs. They see you as very angelic. I keep seeing rosy cheeks so you could have very rosy cheeks or they just can't help but blush in your presence. I am getting that they can see themselves starting a family with you. They can see you growing old together. Overall, your fs love your partner in crime dynamic and love how you are their other half.

Advice cards:

Hold your life from a sacred viewpoint, Witness the universal picture

Get clear about what you want

It is important to understand and value your own energy

Give yourself your own approval

Create a plan and take the first step

No better time to exists than right now

Spend some time in stillness to reflect

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4

Cards: Six of Wands, Four of Swords rx, Ace of Pentacles, Six of Pentacles rx, Ten of Cups, Three of Swords rx, The Hermit rx, King of Cups

Back of the deck: Queen of Swords

I am getting soulmate vibes for this pile. Your fs feels like they won the lottery getting you. They love how you live rent free in their head. This person may have dreams about you or even have daydreams of you before they even meet you. I feel like your fs may have had a crush on you for a while now. You could have gone to school with them. Your fs loves that you are very eye-catching. They love your fashion. Kinda random but I am getting some of you might be associated with jazz. Some of you may smoke which isn't for everyone but if you do they find it very attractive. Your fs wants to be your knight. You might like to play video games and your fs loves to play with you and get lost in the game for hours. You are the Zelda to their Link. Your fs loves to prove their love for you everyday in the small things they do for you. I feel like your person may have been through a lot of heartbreak but you taught them what real love is and could feel as the more time they spent with you, the more their heart started to mend together again. They feel like they were born to love (ugh so cute). I heard my heart belongs to you and time stops when I am with you. Oh my gosh pile 4 your fs is such a poet. They might write songs about how they feel about you and it is all they cutest cheesy lyrics you have ever read and love it cause you know all of their words comes straight from their heart. Your fs loves how you open up to them and be yourself around them.

Advice cards:

You can if you think and believe you can

In harmony your inner self, you are free to do or be whatever you choose

You may need to take a break from the situation or simply take a rest

You are greater than your story

Pay attention to your breathing, It is reflecting your life

Look closely at what is going on around you

Channeled Songs:

Thank you for tuning in ₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

#tarot reading #pac reading #pac tarot #fs pac #pick a pile #pick a photo #Spotify #love tarot reading #love reading #fs tarot #tarot #tarot reader

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