#when you think about it it happens like every time
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falesten-iw · 2 days ago
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you know what I can’t stop thinking about?how the world lets some labels matter and others get ignored. holocaust survivors, everyone knows that brand right? iconic emotional powerful makes you stop and go damn but here’s the kicker palestinians? we’re survivors too. nakba survivors. oh you thought the nakba was just some event from 1948? no no no hayati, it’s still happening right now every single day so this is the term people need to start using when talking about palestinians: NAKBA SURVIVORS. not refugees, not some sad footnote in history and can we please stop even calling what happening in Gaza “ethnic cleansing”? like what are we doing here, rebranding atrocities to sound like a spring cleaning checklist? no it’s ethnic extermination. say it with me ex-ter-mi-na-tion. and yet somehow palestinians keep surviving. my family in gaza? 26 are still there, after losing too many. they wake up every day to a world that wants them gone and somehow they’re still trying to survive. but survival isn’t magic. it doesn’t just happen because they’re tough or brave or insert your inspirational buzzword of choice here. it happens because people like you give a damn and yes this is me asking you to really keep giving a damn. have you donated yet? incredible, thank you, love you forever. haven’t donated? this is your sign. thinking “but i already donated”? Please do it again. survival isn’t a one-time event. click the link and be part of the reason they’re still alive tomorrow.
if you can’t donate via GoFundMe or PayPal you can use Ko-fi instead. Please note that 110 sek is approximately 10 usd and 220 sek is around 20 usd.
Donate on GoFundMe: Link
Donate on Paypal: Link
Donate on Ko-fi
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
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Watching you
Hwang In-ho x female!reader.
Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia
W/c: 3,5k
It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.
He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.
When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.
When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.
“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.
“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.
“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.
And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.
When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?
Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.
“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.
He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.
“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.
He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.
Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.
“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.
“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.
———————
The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.
He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.
It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.
When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.
Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.
——————
Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.
10
You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.
Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.
“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.
“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.
“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.
Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.
He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.
The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.
“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.
“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.
“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.
“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.
“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.
“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?
“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.
Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.
“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.
“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.
His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.
You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.
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screampied · 1 day ago
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PARTITION! g. satoru
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ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)
wc. 7.3k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.
➤ sd! gojo masterlist
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“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”
“satoru, what.”
as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.
you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”
“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.
“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.
satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”
the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.
it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.
“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.
once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.
it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.
with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”
“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.
you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”
with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”
“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.
your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.
one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.
you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.
you were living the dream - literally.
embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.
even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.
satoru gojo’s sugar baby.
but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.
satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.
and he never minded.
he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.
“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.
“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”
as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.
the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.
however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.
satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.
he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—
after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.
he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.
satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.
the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.
of course he kept that.
his hair..
it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.
it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.
it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.
after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.
“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.
“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.
shit.
the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!
that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”
“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.
only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..
slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.
you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.
his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.
“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”
“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.
satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.
he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.
like hell could you even wait that long.
it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.
he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.
“stop looking at me like that-”
“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”
satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.
it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.
it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.
his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.
(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)
“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.
each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.
your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.
“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.
your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.
the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”
with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”
“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”
“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”
“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.
satoru’s touch was pure static..
his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.
the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..
“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.
hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.
“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.
right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.
rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.
“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”
♡ ♡ ♡
“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.
when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.
with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.
you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.
satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.
his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.
“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.
he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.
“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.
you just couldn’t help it!
you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.
a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.
from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.
in reality though,
you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.
through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.
he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.
from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:
“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.
satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.
you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.
“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.
tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.
already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..
you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.
he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.
“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.
with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.
your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.
there….
the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”
“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.
your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.
thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..
satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.
slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.
he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.
eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.
with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.
you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..
it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.
“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.
satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.
you just couldn’t stay still though.
with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’
time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..
it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.
you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.
you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.
“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.
his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.
“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.
buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.
he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.
“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”
“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.
you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.
it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.
satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.
his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.
your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”
“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.
as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”
“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.
satoru wondered what your game was.
as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.
as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.
he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.
satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.
couldn’t get enough of you..
if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.
“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.
satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.
the damn beads,
they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.
‘G.S’
the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.
“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”
“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.
“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.
they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.
“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.
briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.
satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.
he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..
“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.
satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”
“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.
he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.
the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“mmh- fine, since you said please.”
as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.
“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.
satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.
you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.
with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.
as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.
“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”
“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.
you couldn’t wait any longer either.
you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.
he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.
his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.
“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.
like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.
satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.
it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..
your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.
your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.
from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.
it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..
your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.
“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.
the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.
“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.
gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.
“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.
satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.
with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.
satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.
“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.
it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..
you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.
if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.
“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”
“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.
he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!
satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.
it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.
“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.
you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.
with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.
you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.
“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.
multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.
“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.
“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”
“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.
it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.
satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.
“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”
“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.
your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.
satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”
“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.
it’s just so much to process.
your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.
“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.
you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.
your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.
a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.
you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.
wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.
your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.
you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.
it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.
doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’
“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.
right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.
“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.
with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”
♡ ♡ ♡
after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.
you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.
the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.
you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.
currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.
doggy.
part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.
your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.
“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.
he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.
that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”
“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.
slow strokes - deeper thrusts..
your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.
your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.
“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.
your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .
the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.
his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.
“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.
“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.
you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.
soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.
he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.
satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.
his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.
at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”
as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.
you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.
satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.
“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.
he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.
“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”
wife?
you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.
but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.
as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.
“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.
“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.
his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.
he’s close - so so close.
you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.
a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..
quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.
“h.. hm?”
“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.
he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.
“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.
he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.
“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.
“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.
he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.
he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.
so …. soft.
satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.
he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.
satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.
“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.
his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.
it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”
satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.
his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.
you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.
“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.
your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.
satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.
as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.
“i’m your wife now?”
“h.. hm?”
“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”
satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.
“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”
bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”
“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”
“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.
satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.
your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.
satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.
his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.
satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”
“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”
3K notes · View notes
spideyjimin · 3 days ago
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Bloodlines entwined: I | jjk
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⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 
—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 
—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 
— rating: 18+ 
—  words: 7,213
—  warnings: strong language, mention of death, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of blood, several mentions of abortion, and crying
—  author’s note: here it is the first chapter of this series! <3 i’m actually very excited about this entire universe, i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve been taking my time to write each part 🤗 the beginning is inspired by Jane the Virgin and the Flash as they are both my favorite shows ✨ i hope you’ll enjoy this part & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 😊  
taglist is closed!
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Chapter I: when worlds collide
SERIES MASTERLIST | next
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Sitting in your car, you’ve been looking blinkingly at the windshield, hands trembling against the steering wheel. For ten whole minutes, you’ve been frozen like this as if moving would shatter the fragile sense of calm you’ve barely managed to hold together.
Your life is about to drastically change; you know it deep down.  
“The deed is done,” you whisper to yourself.
You let out a shaky breath, and your reflection in the rearview mirror catches your eye. You look exhausted, your eyes wide and glistening.
For two years, this moment has been building. You have thoughtfully considered having a child on your own. At first, it was just a random thought that crossed your mind, a curiosity born on one of those quiet, lonely moments where life felt both too much and not enough. Then, you deeply thought about it. The idea rooted itself deep within you, anchoring into something raw and tender: a longing to create a family on your own terms. 
After much research and consideration, you decided to go for it.
Many people couldn’t understand your choice, but honestly, you don’t give two shits about others’ opinions. What did matter to you was the support of close family and friends.
Felix, the man who raised you after your parents were stolen from you, proposed to accompany you to the fertility clinic, but you gently declined his offer. This was something you wanted to do by yourself. Well, you just came alone to be inseminated. Other than that, he has been by your side every step of the way.
He helped you to go through the countless donor profiles, and every document needed for this adventure of yours.
The process was a bit long and emotionally draining. The first steps were more like an evaluation, mostly for the clinic to understand your reasons and ensure you’ve deeply thought about all the aspects. Having a kid alone isn’t just about fulfilling your dreams but also about building a life for a child.
Once you’ve successfully completed those steps, you had to choose the donor. There were a lot of choices; it was like going grocery shopping. You were handed a catalog of potential donors with their medical histories and first names. It felt odd to be choosing the progenitor like this. After going through every profile, one of them stood out.
Following the donor selection, your cycles and hormone levels were tracked. When all was good, you’d get inseminated on your ovulation period, which technically is happening this week.  
So, ten minutes ago, you walked out of the clinic after being artificially knocked up.
If your egg is fertilized, in nine months, you’ll welcome your very much desired baby. A tiny human who will call you mom. You already picked the names, one for a girl, one for a boy. You simply can’t wait to welcome a tiny human in your life. Hopefully, the life of your baby will be better than yours.
You lean your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes as the ghosts of your past surface.
Twenty years ago, your life was turned upside down when a terrible murderer put an end to your parents’ lives. Nobody ever found him or her; it’s like the person completely vanished into the night. That person left behind a little girl with questions nobody could ever answer and scars nobody could understand.  
Since you didn’t have any family left, you were raised by your father’s best friend, Felix. Over time, he became like a second father to you. Even though you were full of anger when he took you over, he stayed by your side and helped you navigate this sad reality; one where your parents weren’t part of anymore.
His daughter, Lexi is your age. You were already so close, and living under the same roof brought you even closer. She’s your super best friend, almost like a sister today. A smile grows on your face as you think of her. Your life would have been a nightmare without her.
Lexi was the first person to be aware of this desire to become a single mother. She even pushed you to do it as soon as you could, and she has encouraged you like nobody else. She also helped you select a donor; she even made fun of the names of some of them.
Your phone buzzes; the name and picture of Lexi appearing on the screen.
“Hi,” you say when you pick up.
“Soo,” she says. “How did it go?”
“Good, I guess?” you say with clear hesitation. “The doctor just inserted a thin catheter, looked at the screen, and said it was done,” you explain. “Now we just have to wait.”
Waiting is now the worst part, especially since you decided not to take any pregnancy test until the next appointment. Meaning, you have to wait two full weeks.
“Let’s hope the donor’s little swimmers are good ones,” she says.
While you always wanted to have a kid, Lexi never wanted one. You and her are total opposites but that’s what helped create such a strong bond between you. “Yeah, let’s hope for that,” you smile.  
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Two weeks later
A couple of days ago, you took a blood test, and now, you’re in the waiting room, patiently waiting for the doctor to call you up.
These past two weeks, you’ve been internally battling to take a pregnancy test. It’s been hard to fight the urge to discover beforehand if you’re expecting or not. On your way to the clinic, your heart was beating extremely fast with nervousness. Even the music playing in the car didn’t seem to calm you down.
Even though you’re extremely nervous, a part of you knows. You can’t explain it, but you feel it deep down. Two nights ago, you were lying in bed completely exhausted after an intense day at work. The rhythm of your heartbeat was rocking you to sleep. Amidst the thrum of your own heart, you swear you could hear a faint, smaller, and quicker rhythm.
You instantly opened your eyes, scanning the room. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It felt like it was inside you. You stayed perfectly still, listening to that tiny sound. That night, you were rocked to sleep by that new rhythm.
The morning after, as you caught your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, something felt off. Your brows furrowed as you noticed your own scent was different. It felt like it was mixed with somebody else’s scent, but it wasn’t as strong as yours or any other living human. It was extremely odd.
After a little while, the doctor says your name, and with shaky legs, you walk to her office. Your heart is beating at a very crazy pace, ready to burst at any moment. This is so stressful; it feels like time is moving so slowly.
“Hello yn,” the doctor smiles at you while you’re entering the room. “How have you been feeling?” you now take a seat.
“I’m good, thanks,” you smile back at her.
She sits down at her desk and takes a look at her computer.
“So, did you take any pregnancy test?” she asks.
“No, no,” you answer. “I wanted to keep the surprise for today.”
“I see,” she looks again at her screen before taping on her keyboard.
She seems to quickly read something before her smile widens. Your heart is going completely crazy. It really makes you nervous, and you try to mentally prepare yourself to receive the bad news as well. It’ll definitely break your heart but you’ll try again.  
This entire process is quite expensive, but the payment can be spread out over time rather than made in one shot. With this first payment, you have the right to three attempts. If pregnancy isn’t achieved after those attempts, you’ll have to go through another round and pay for additional attempts.
The doctor mentioned that usually, it takes about three to six attempts to achieve a successful pregnancy. Hopefully, you’ll get pregnant within those first three tries. You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to afford another round of insemination.   
“Well, it looks like it only took you one try to conceive,” she informs you.
And right there, your heart bursts with joy. There’s indeed a little human being growing inside you. You’ll become a mother in nine months. You can’t believe it.
A little tear runs down your face as you hear the good news. It’s such a relief. You won't have to worry about coming back for another round.
“That’s good news,” you clean the tear on your cheek.
“It is indeed,” she says. “In four weeks more or less, we’ll plan an ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s implantation and check for a heartbeat,” she adds.
Well, you’ll still get worried about that because maybe until there, your baby will not survive. But you need to remain positive. No need to start stressing about it; you promised yourself that you’ll try to remain calm the entirety of the process and pregnancy so you’ll offer a great beginning of life to your baby.
“I’m very hopeful everything will go well because both you and the donor are in good health,” she says.
“Let’s hope for that,” you answer.
You then proceed to schedule the next appointment in four weeks. You can’t hide the immense smile on your face. This is the best news you got today. Nothing else will ever be possible to ruin this day.
When you leave the clinic, you instantly call Lexi.
“I AM PREGNANT!” you scream with excitement.
“Yeeeah,” she screams as well. “I’m going to be an aunty!” she adds.
“I’m so relieved that this first attempt was successful,” you admit.
Once you get inside your car, you touch your belly to caress it.
“That baby is so lucky to have you as a mother,” she says after. “And even more lucky to join our family.”
For sure, your family will extremely love this baby. It’s such a desired baby, and everybody has been so excited.
“They’ll be so loved,” you reply.
“There’s absolutely no doubt,” she says. “Dad will be so happy about this news; he’s been so excited to become a grandpa.”
Felix has expressed lately that he couldn’t wait to welcome a baby and become a granddad. This man has raised you for twenty years, and you consider him as a second father. There’s no doubt that your baby will see him as their grandfather even if, biologically speaking, he isn’t.
When you hang up, you stare into the void for a couple of minutes. In this moment, you wish your parents would be here. They would have been so happy to become grandparents, but they won’t be by your side for this new chapter of your life.
They are also the reason why you’re doing all of this. Since they passed, there’s been a tremendous emptiness inside you that even the love of Felix couldn’t fill in. This void stems mostly from the fact that you were left alone when they were killed. You’ve been feeling so lonely since then.
Throughout your life, you tried to fill it with relationships but they all failed. As far as you can remember, you wanted to follow the traditional path to build a family. However, it never worked out. Then, one day, you saw a brochure about single mothers, and you’ve been thinking about it since then.
You’ve seen motherhood as a role that will fill this emotional void you’ve been carrying for years. Plus, you’ve also seen it as a way to finally control your life. Twenty years ago, someone decided for you what your life would become. This wasn’t fair.
And you also want to give your baby the life you never got. You want to give them a loving family that won’t disappear the second the parents die. Outside of your parents, you didn’t have a family. Based on what Felix told you, your grandparents were against your parents' relationship so they moved into another city to live freely and build a family.
Life hasn’t been fair for you, but you want to make it fair for your baby.
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Two weeks later
The clinic called you this morning to urgently come in the afternoon, only making you grow concerned during the day. You kept wondering what the reason for such urgency would be. Did they notice something when they did the blood test? Did they get the wrong blood test? Are you even really pregnant? 
However, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re carrying a life inside you. You haven’t had the ‘normal’ early symptoms yet, but you can feel your baby inside you. The faint heartbeat can still be heard, and there’s still that subtle scent interwoven with yours.
For the past two weeks, you’ve repeatedly inhaled this new scent, almost to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Most of the time, you wondered if it wasn’t something like blood, sweat, or the smell of your new shampoo. It was definitely an earthly one. One that only a human can possess.
Once inside the clinic, you’re instantly installed in the doctor’s room. Your heart is crazily beating inside your chest; you’re so nervous right now. Seconds later, a man joins you in the room.
At first glance, you’d think he is the CEO of a huge company. He’s fully dressed in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his hands casually placed in his pants pockets. This man is extremely charismatic; something about him draws you in.  
The man looks at you while frowning, his eyes moving from your eyes to your belly. By reflex, you cover your stomach with your hands. He’s making you uncomfortable with his intense stare.
He has a very strong bestial scent, it predominates his cologne. Everything about him is imposing, even the way his heart beats; it’s so calm while yours is completely erratic. The man’s eyes are clued on you.
The doctor arrives right after and closes the door behind her. Her face is quite serious; she even seems concerned.
“Miss y/l/n,” she takes a seat at her desk. “Mister Jeon,” she looks at the man behind you. “Please take a seat.”
The two of you sit down next to each other with apprehension. You can hear his heart beating a little faster, but he remains extremely calm on the outside.  
“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.
The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The doctor pauses, giving you time to absorb the gravity of the statement. Her tone is gentle, but at the same time professional.  
The sterile, cold walls of the room seem to close in around you as the doctor’s words pierce through your thoughts.
“There was a mix-up with the sample…” your breath is caught in your throat, your hands trembling. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”
Your eyes look at the man sitting next to you. All you can see in his eyes is the same disbelief that reflects your own. So, this is your child’s father.  
Many questions cross your mind, but they remain unspoken, lodged in your throat.
“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”
You desired nothing more than being alone in this adventure; you didn’t want a present father. That was the whole point of a donor. Now, you know the father of your child, and he’d probably like to be present.
For the past months, you went through a series of questions regarding the fact that you’ll raise your child alone. They asked you many times how you’d explain to your child that they don’t have a father. This now feels like a complete waste of time.
“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment’s costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”
Those words seem so heavy and yet, they represent the reality of the choice you now have to face. A knot tightens in your stomach at the thought of undoing something you wished for so long. The baby is now growing inside of you, you’ve got used to falling asleep with their tiny heartbeat. The only thought of not having it anymore breaks your heart beyond comprehension.
Right now, everything—your carefully constructed plans, your hopes, the small life growing inside you—seems to be slipping through your fingers.
Mister Jeon is silent beside you, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He seems as stunned as you, but you can’t help but think that there’s something else there too. Something deeper and darker.
You ignore if he’s thinking the same thing as you, but you can feel it: the strange twist of fate pulling you both into an unknown world, one you both hadn’t planned for.
“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.
Time seems irrelevant now. There’s a choice you need to make; a choice you didn’t expect to face. You swallow hard, your heart racing inside your chest. Your hands caress your belly through your shirt while you only hear the baby’s fragile heartbeat.
This isn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be real.
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Jungkook’s face went pale as the doctor’s words sank in.
“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.
Just like you, the room’s white walls feel suffocating, the air thick with a tension he can’t shake. A mistake. His mistake. He tried to avoid this situation. He was supposed to go through surrogacy to guarantee a child that would uphold his lineage. His werewolf lineage, pure and untouched by human blood.
“There was a mix-up with the sample…” the doctor’s words hang up in the air like a death sentence. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”
His eyes quickly look at you, and he notices how much you’re shaking. It seems like you’re in a more devasted state than he is.  
“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”
Jungkook blinks, trying to absorb what is happening. A human child. Nonetheless, his child. Having children with humans isn’t just a personal choice; it’s a fundamental rule of the werewolf society. The very foundation of his power as the king depends on the purity of his bloodline. To break the rule is to risk everything.
He knows better than anyone what happens to the werewolf-human hybrid kids together with the parents. They are killed by the pack. Being a king doesn’t make him the exception to the rule. If this pregnancy goes to full term, not only will he be killed, but the baby and the lady sitting next to him will too.  
You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t deserve to die because of a mistake. 
His gaze filled with frustration and panic moves toward you once more as his pulse quickens. He wanted control over the situation. He never intended to father a hybrid child. And now, not only is he involved in this pregnancy, but the child is going to carry his blood mixed with human genetics. God only knows what can happen to this kid, genetically speaking.
“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”
��This can’t be happening’, he thinks.
His eyes move back to the doctors, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of the entire werewolf community learning of this is unbearable. And what is his mother going to think of this?
She was the first person to support him in this surrogacy journey. She knew how important it was for him to have a child as soon as possible because he’d been struggling to find someone with whom he’d mate. Having an heir is the first thing a king should do to ensure the legacy.
Now, he’s about to have a child with a human. That’s not possible. This child won’t have a pure bloodline, this child can’t ever be an heir.     
“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.
The idea of termination seems dreadful, but the possibility of a hybrid child heir seems even worse. His responsibility as king, and the traditions that have been in place for centuries don’t allow for such breach. To raise a kid with human blood would mean instant disgrace, not only for him but for his entire family. How could he even be respected after this?
His entire world is slipping through his fingers. His position as king is now in jeopardy. This baby will destabilize the entire werewolf community. Nobody will respect him and will only see him as weak. Weak for having a human child.
There’s no going back. His mind tries to find a solution to fix this, or how to undo this. The idea of raising a child with a human—no matter how much it is his responsibility—is unthinkable. He never desired this and hasn’t even considered it. He has been so focused on maintaining his bloodline that the idea of a mistake happening never crossed his mind.
Your presence beside him destabilizes him beyond comprehension. He can see the confusion in your eyes mixed with disbelief. You can’t comprehend the extension of this entire problem. You can’t even comprehend the danger of mixing bloodlines, because you aren’t a werewolf.
Jungkook stands in silence for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Terminating this pregnancy isn’t something he desires, but having a child with a human is simply impossible. His heart beats too crazily, and he can hear yours beating just as fast. His heart and duty are pulling him in two different directions.
Finally, his eyes meet yours. His voice is soft but it carries a heavy weight. “We need to decide. This affects both of us.”
After what felt like an eternity, you both leave the room completely shaken up by the news you just got. How could this be happening?
As you’re both walking in the clinic in the parking lot’s direction, none of you dares to speak. You’re a complete stranger to Jungkook. All he knows is that you’re a human carrying his child. 
“I can’t have that child,” he finally breaks the silence.
His words cause you to stop.
“It’s too early for me to consider terminating this pregnancy,” you admit. “I need time.”
Jungkook understands your perspective. It’s not a decision you lightly take, especially if you’ve come to this clinic to have a child. It’d be completely absurd to abort after going through this entire process.
“Of course,” he says. “But I want you to know my point of view.”
You nod, understanding his perspective as well. This is such a horrible situation. Jungkook wanted to have an heir while you simply wanted to have a child on your own. On top of that, he doesn’t look like the donor you selected.
“So if I decide to keep it, would you be out?” you ask.
Jungkook considers your words. There’s a possibility that the baby could still exist, but he wouldn’t be part of their life. He’d still be losing because he wants a child, but at least this way, his position wouldn’t be jeopardized, and no one would get hurt or killed.  
“It’s possible,” he honestly answers.
You nod once more. Even though he decides not to be part of his child’s life, he’d still know that he has a kid somewhere. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding you; he already knows your smell, and he has the means to find you.
“Okay,” you say.
Jungkook watches you take a pen and paper from your purse before writing something.
“This is my phone number,” you hand him the piece of paper. “In case you change your mind or take a decision.”
The man takes the piece of paper while you give him a small smile. You start walking away, his eyes following you until you disappear inside a car.
In this situation, he definitely would like to ask his mother for advice, but he can’t. He already knows the answer she’ll give him. ‘This baby can’t exist.’ And she’s right, but he can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy. It’s your body after all.
In the eventuality that you decide to proceed with the pregnancy, he guesses he’ll let you be a mother alone and pretend like this kid doesn’t exist.
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You’ve spent the last two days crying in bed. The conversation with the doctor and this mysterious Mister Jeon has been playing over and over in your head. You can still picture everything so clearly; the white walls of the doctor’s room, the apologies from the doctor, and Mister Jeon’s piercing gaze.
‘There’s been a mistake,’ ‘There was a mix-up with the sample,’ the words still echo in your mind.
You’ve been trying to make sense of how such a monumental mistake has happened. But nothing seems to make sense. The clinic did this; the clinic took control over your decision. This chapter of your life was about you gaining control, but once more, someone decided for you. It’s been making you angry.
You’re furious at the clinic and their negligence. You trusted them with your project of building your own family. However, they decided otherwise.  
But underneath that anger, there’s another fury; one directed to yourself. You were so focused on having a child on your own terms that you didn’t stop to consider the what-ifs. You didn’t stop to consider that something might go wrong. And now, you are here.    
You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours now, your mind trying to find a solution. Do you keep this baby? Do you terminate the pregnancy?
This choice feels impossible. It feels like no matter what your life will completely change.  
But deep down, you somehow feel some kind of relief. Because when Mister Jeon—this intense and charismatic man—said there was a possibility he’d walk away, that he’d leave you to raise this child alone, you felt lighter.
His potential absence is appealing. It aligns with your original choice, to be a single mother. A choice where your child is yours, and yours alone. But then, there’s also a possibility where he stays, or that he comes back later. What would happen then?
You press your hands against your face while a guttural growl leaves your lips. This is so damn frustrating. This should be simple. Because now, you’re left wondering what you want. Do you want to walk away from this and stick to the original plan? Or do you want to embrace this chaos, and see where this might lead?
Your hands slide down to your stomach, caressing it while you hear again the tiny heartbeat. This sound comforts you which makes you close your eyes.
For now, you don’t have any answers to all your questions. You’re not even sure you’ll have them tomorrow. For now, you’ll let yourself breathe. You’ll let yourself feel. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the answers.  
The sound of your phone ringing pushes you out of your own thoughts, informing you that you received a message. You sit on your bed before grabbing the phone on the nightstand. You received a message from an unknown number. By curiosity, you unlock your phone to read it. To your surprise, it’s the famous and mysterious Mister Jeon.  
From unknown: hi miss y/l/n, this is jeon jungkook, the father of your child. i’d like to meet you to discuss the matter. would you be free tonight?
Your heart hammers inside your chest, ready to burst at any second. He contacted you sooner than expected. You were thinking that you wouldn’t hear anything from him for at least a week. You thought you’d have more time to make a decision before meeting him. Now, it seems you don’t, and that you’ll have a very interesting conversation with him tonight.
With shaky hands, you start typing your answer.
To unknown: hello mister jeon, we could meet tonight
When you press ‘send’, you stare at the conversation, waiting for an answer. Mister Jeon responds instantly to your message, proposing to meet in a town square. You accept the suggestion and quickly go to your clothes cupboard to pick up an outfit.
The man seems very impressive, and you want to be presentable. He’s after all the progenitor of the life growing inside you.
A couple of hours later, you take the road to the meeting point. Surprisingly, you’ve remained calm for the entire drive. Driving is actually the only thing able to calm your tormented soul. Whenever you go through something very intense, you just drive to clear your mind.
However, since this pregnancy thing, even driving hasn’t been able to help you out. You tried to drive yesterday, but it only made things worse. So it definitely surprises you that you’ve been able to clear your mind before meeting Mister Jeon.
When you arrive, he’s already there waiting for you. He’s not wearing a suit, quite the contrary. His outfit is only made of a grey sweater with a blue pair of jeans. His hair isn’t perfectly pushed back as it was two days ago. It feels like you’re meeting a completely different person.
When he sees you, he stands up. As he does so, you notice he holds a box in his right hand. It’s a small one, but it still intrigues you.
“Good evening, miss y/l/n,” he says.
“Good evening, mister Jeon,” you say back.
His presence is still very imposing, but the fact that he isn’t wearing a suit anymore changes it a bit. He seems more approachable than he was in the clinic.
“Please call me Jungkook,” he offers you a small smile.
It’s the first time you see him smiling, and it feels like a very warm one. Beneath it all and in the midst of the city noise, you can perceive his heartbeat. It’s quite rapid which makes you tilt your head. Is he nervous?
“You can call me yn as well,” you smile back at him.  
“I’ve brought you a box with some pastries,” he hands you the box. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
Your smile grows wider at his simple but heartwarming gesture. This wasn’t expected, but it lightens the mood. Jungkook seems to be a nice person which contrasts with the cold and unreadable person he seemed two days ago.
“Thanks,” you say while grabbing the little box. “You didn’t need to,” your eyes look up at him.
After that, you both sit down on the bench he was on before you arrived. By the way he rubs his hands on his tights, you can tell that he’s a bit nervous. You try not to overanalyze him, because you know your mind will go crazy, full of questions.
“What is happening is really crazy,” he admits with obvious nervousness. “I never imagined things would go this way,” you nod.
Jungkook looks everywhere, except at you. It seems like he isn’t brave enough to face you, almost like a teenager confessing his love.
“As I told you two days ago, I can’t have this child,” he finally speaks. “I really would love to, but I’d put the three of us in danger.”
Your heart starts beating rapidly. What does he mean by ‘putting you in danger’? Does he come from a crazy family? Is he part of the mafia? This is scaring the hell out of you.
“We didn’t know each other up until two days ago, and you don’t deserve to be put in danger because of a stupid mistake the clinic did,” he seems angry when he mentions the mistake. “But I can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy, it’s your body, and it was also your wish to have a child. I can’t take that away from you.”
It kind of surprises you how respectful he is. Any other man in his position could have forced or paid you to put an end to this pregnancy. It’s really admirable.
“In case you want to keep going with it, I just want you to know that I’ll step away, and I will never come back to reclaim a role I refused from the beginning.”
You wonder what the reasons behind his decision could be. This man desired to have a child but is now refusing to have one with you because of a mistake.
“To be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” you admit.
His piercing eyes finally look at you. For a split second, you can swear that they were red. Red like blood. This destabilizes you, and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re not sure if you’re being delirious or if this is real.
“I wanted to become a mother, but not like this,” you continue, still destabilized by what you just saw. “So it leaves me wondering what I should do. But if you walk away, I’ll be more tempted to keep the baby because, in the end, it’ll go as I planned.”
In an unexplainable way, this man puts you at ease. It feels like you can confess how you truly feel about this situation without being judged by him. This man exudes serenity which draws you even more to him.
“I get that,” he says.
For a brief moment, you only look at him while your heart peacefully beats in your chest. His dark eyes stare right into your soul, and it feels like the world completely stopped. There’s just the two of you. But Jungkook breaks the contact, looking in another direction.
“If you decide to keep the child and need any financial help, I can give it to you,” he speaks.
This man definitely seems like a good guy, and you wonder even more why he’s walking away from this.
“I won’t,” you answer. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have any means to take care of the baby.”
For sure you need financial stability to be a single mother, and you would have never embarked on this adventure without having it.
Jungkook runs his fingers through his fluffy hair, avoiding still your gaze. “Can I ask why you want to become a single mom?”
The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting this man—this stranger—to be interested in you.
“I didn’t have an easy life and I grew up without my parents,” you confess. “Motherhood was something I aspired to have in my life since I’m very young, and I’ve desired to give to my child everything I didn’t have. No matter if it was with someone or alone.”
Your eyes shift from Jungkook to the square full of people. It’s never easy to express out loud and to a complete stranger why you embarked on this adventure. Mentioning your parents is actually never easy; even after all this time.
Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you in complete silence. For once in your life, people’s heartbeats and scents don’t suffocate you. You can hear and smell them, but it’s like it doesn’t matter.
For as long as you can remember, you’ve had those developed skills. You can hear stuff from afar, and you can strongly smell people’s natural body’s scent. Since it’s kind of ‘normal’ to you, you got used to it; but sometimes, and especially when you’re in the middle of heavy crowds, it suffocates you. It becomes simply too much.
This is something you never told anyone, too scared to be judged. Undoubtedly, people would say you’ve gone crazy due to the trauma of losing your parents. Not even Felix or Lexi knows about it. They just think you’re agoraphobic.
However, lately, you’ve been trying to go to some crowded place to overcome this suffocating feeling. You ignore why you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been doing it. It’s still too much, but today, next to this complete stranger, it doesn’t feel like it.
“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” he whispers.
You turn to look at him to offer him a little smile.
“Thanks,” you mumble. “Can I also ask you why you’re doing this?” you dare to ask.
Jungkook nods before looking away once more. It definitely looks like it’s hard for him to hold your gaze.
“In my world,” he starts saying. “I have heavy responsibilities, and having a child is one of them. But I can’t have one with anybody. I’m very limited in who is the biological mother so that’s why I can’t have one with you.”
You almost feel offended by his words. In which kind of world can’t you be the mother of his child? It’s completely crazy!
“Oh,” you simply say.
“You could have been the surrogate…” you can hear some kind of chuckle. “But never the progenitor.”
“It’s seems like a tough world.”
His eyes look again at you; you can see that he seems to hesitate with the answer.
“It isn’t,” he finally says. “But it is with me.”
Obviously, he carefully chose his words.
“Well, I hope you’ll find the right mother for your child,” you offer him once more a little smile.
“Thanks,” he smiles back at you.
The two of you look back again at the people walking in the town square. They are walking around you, ignoring totally what you’re going through, what tough decision you have to make. They ignore everything about you, just as you ignore everything about them…  
“I’m sorry about all of this,” he adds.
“It’s not your fault,” you answer. “It’s the clinic’s.”
Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the people walking in front of you. His heart is racing and piercing through your ears. He’s even more nervous than he was before, and it concerns you a bit. But you don’t say anything, too afraid to scare him off if you reveal you can hear his heartbeat.  
“Yn…” he starts. “There’s something you need to know,” his voice is deep and low at the same time. It’s so low that it almost drowns out by the distant chatter of people passing by.
You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing. “Okay,” you whisper.  
Jungkook takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he exhales. His eyes don’t meet yours immediately, but when he does, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach twist.
“When I said my world is different,” he swallows with difficulty. “I don’t mean it in a metaphorical sense. My world, my reality is not the same as yours.”
You frown even more, confusion plastered all over your face. You’re definitely incredibly confused. How could his world be different than yours? You live on the same planet, and breathe the same air. How could it be not the same?  
“What do you mean?”
Jungkook gets closer, his voice dropping even lower, barely audible. However, you still hear it perfectly.
“I am not entirely human, yn.”
Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You stare at him while waiting for him to elaborate. However, Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for your reaction.
“What do you mean by ‘not entirely human’?” you tilt your head.
For a couple of seconds, he doesn’t speak, almost as if he’s scared to reveal his true nature to you.
“I’m a werewolf.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. It leaves you wondering if this man is of sound mind. Right now, you’re slightly concerned about his mental health, and the future of your child, if you keep them.
Your first reaction is to laugh, dismissing his words as if it is some kind of twisted joke. But the look on his face tells you that he’s deadly serious. This isn’t a joke.
“A werewolf?” you repeat to make sure you hear it well.
Jungkook nods. He looks tense and he maintains his deep glance on you.
“It’s why I can’t have this child,” he starts to explain. “In my world, bloodlines matter. Werewolf bloodlines are sacred, and the continuation of my lineage isn’t just about having a child. It’s about having the right child with the right kind of mother.”
The weight of his words crashes over you like a tidal wave. You stand up, your hands running through your hair. Your mind is spinning, and your pulse thunders in your ears. This is something you definitely weren’t expecting to hear today.
Werewolves? You’re carrying the child of a werewolf?
This sounds like it comes straight from a fantasy movie.
“This doesn’t feel real,” you whisper to yourself but Jungkook hears it.  
“I didn’t want you to be dragged into this world, but you deserve the truth.”
You keep your back turned to him while you cross your arms against your chest.
“This is something you need to consider if you decide to keep the baby.”
At his words, you freeze. Instinctively, your hands down move to your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes follow your hands.
“Is this…” your voice trembles. “Is this a viable child?”
If you want to keep going with this pregnancy, you need to know if this baby can survive.
“There wouldn’t be any reason why this child wouldn’t survive because of mixed blood,” he stands up and gets close to you. “But as they grow up, they’ll develop werewolf abilities. And, one day, they’ll probably turn into one. It’s pretty unpredictable, though. There’s never been a human-werewolf hybrid before.”
Damn, this is leaving you speechless. How can this be real? Werewolves are supposed to exist in movies, not in real life.   
“This is insane,” you rub your hands on your face. “This can’t be real.”
Jungkook steps closer. His presence is grounding but nonetheless overwhelming.  
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you demand, your voice filled with panic.  
Before you can blink, he gets even closer to you. He’s in front of you in an instant, his hand gently grabbing yours. Your eyes look down at his hand as you notice it changing. His fingers elongate, his nails sharpen into claws, and the texture of his skin turns into something more beastly. Slowly, your eyes look up, and what you see completely freezes your body.  His eyes glow a deep, predatory red, and there’s something undeniably wolfish about them.
You take a step back while setting your hand free. As you do so, Jungkook shifts back, his hand returns to its normal form, and his eyes fade back to a human form. The transformation is so quick that it almost feels like you imagined it.
“So what happens now?” you ask.
Jungkook’s gaze softens at your words.
“That depends on you, yn.”
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cloudwisp · 3 days ago
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✮ sylus x fem!reader
contents: fluff and sweetness. pre-relationship. more than friends but less than lovers trope. many shared little moments with sylus that make it special 🤍
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⭒ It becomes second nature for Sylus to carry your purse on his shoulder when you both have an outing and he follows you around like an obedient puppy as you shop from one clothing rack to another. Sometimes he gets distracted on his phone whilst glancing up at you every now and then that he doesn’t realize you both are in the men’s section. A rather adorable pondering expression on your face as you hold a shirt up to his chest. “I think this would suit you nicely.” No second opinion is needed and he collects the item from you for purchasing because if you say so then he believes it.
⭒ When Sylus somehow finds himself a passenger because maybe you wanted to test drive his car that easily has 1600hp—he’s thoroughly amused as you feel out the dynamics of the vehicle. More so when you accidentally step on the brakes a little too hard, as you are unfamiliar with the sensitivity of the pedals. In a show of panic, you throw your arm across his chest to brace for the sudden jolt which earns you a teasing remark followed by a playful quip back at him. However, there’s a subtle smile on his lips as you continue down the road because your first instinct is to save him.
⭒ You and Sylus have a casual routine with Friday nights being reserved for the both of you. When you’d normally grab takeout during the busy working week, you opt for a simple home-cooked meal to unwind and enjoy a leisurely evening. Before you can even register the force of habit, you’re pulling out two plates to set the table and like clockwork Sylus appears at your apartment door. A little bag of your favorite pastries to finish off the meal with something sweet because he learned you couldn’t go without it. Funny how he knows these things about you, and how you knew to grab his favorite cheese pancakes on the way home for appetizers.
⭒ The crow twins deliver you something on behalf of Sylus and he receives a little treat from you every other time this happens. You’d pack a small box of savory/sweet baked goods that you made earlier in the day to return his thoughtful gesture. However, at your words Luke and Kieran assumed a surprise wouldn’t be missed if their boss doesn’t know about it. Fast forward to those two apologetic boys surrounded by a swirling red and kneeling before their boss under his menacing stare because those cream puffs should've been handed to him directly. After hearing about this, you made certain to pack enough for the three of them next time.
⭒ Napping at someone else’s home other than your own feels like uncharted territory because sleeping anywhere but your warm and familiar bed places you in a vulnerable position. Even though Sylus has given you permission to make yourself comfortable at his estate several times, the safest place you feel is beside him with your head lulling against his shoulder when you’re running on a few hours of sleep. He’s the picture of comfort with a fleeting kiss to your head and draping his coat over you, and he may even find his cheek pressed against you to catch some shut-eye himself.
⭒ There’s something to be said about Sylus being led by you—he secretly loves surrendering himself to your every whim and that includes you tugging him by the hand and steering him toward the direction of cute ducklings paddle their way into the waters with a splash. Your elated reaction and innocent sparkle is all very endearing to him and he takes a moment to savor it before shifting his gaze to the small animals. “Now, aren’t you glad we decided to have this stroll after all?” You offer him your response and his heart warms when he realizes that you still haven’t let go of his hand.
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unpretty · 2 days ago
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not going to tack this onto @derinthescarletpescatarian's post because it was long enough but here is my understanding of some of the various subgenres commonly encountered in light novels/web novels/licensed webtoons:
isekai: another world. if they end up in a different world it's an isekai. it doesn't matter how they got there. sometimes the other world is explicitly a video game the protagonist is playing. they're not dead or anything, just in virtual reality. they go home at night and it's fine.
portal fantasy: it does matter how they got there, actually. they went through a portal of some kind. wherever they end up, they keep their minds and bodies. maybe in the other world they have powers, but maybe not.
progression fantasy: they are going to level up like a video game character. there may or may not be an actual leveling up mechanic. they might just get stronger or acquire more wealth and powerful allies as it goes on. they will always kick more ass. hundreds of beavers is a progression fantasy.
litrpg: western term for 'the characters explicitly have video game mechanics'. there is probably a System of some kind. characters are aware of levels and power tiers. most controversial subgenre, lots of people hate this.
dungeon break/monster hunter: dungeons or portals appear in the real world, some people get powers that let them fight the monsters. lots of people try to tell me this is just litrpg but i argue that they are distinct subgenres with significant overlap. not every litrpg is this. you can probably find traditionally published american versions of this pre-dating video games and the litrpg concept.
transmigration: this is when truck-kun intervenes. there are other ways it can happen, but usually a character dies (hit by a truck is the most common trope) and wakes up in a different body. usually an isekai, usually it's into a story or video game, but it doesn't always have to be.
regression: a character dies, but instead of dying, they wake up as their younger self with all their memories from before their death. this is explicitly not an isekai, except when someone gets fucky with it and reveals that a transmigrator was actually also a regressor the whole time.
loop: if they regress more than once it turns into a loop. this is distinct because sometimes with regressors they just have the one chance to not fuck things up this time. some loop stories also have characters transmigrating a bunch of times.
villain isekai: usually transmigration. oh no i died and woke up as the bad guy in a story! now i gotta try not to fucking die!!!
romfan: romance fantasy. it gets called romfan instead of romantasy because it came first and is being translated probably.
otome isekai: also usually transmigration and also often romfan. you are now the prettiest princess and all the boys want to kiss you. i assume there's a 'harem' version of this For Men but i don't read those and can't tell you anything about them.
villainess isekai: usually a combination of the above three. most likely to be very meta and funny. i have a weakness for these ones.
divorce revenge: there might be a real name for this but i don't know it. sometimes this is paired with regression but not always, but it's very often a kind of progression fantasy. features a woman divorcing her shitty husband and then living her best life, which keeps getting better as her husband has to watch her kick ass and then cry about how he blew it. there are so many of these.
childcare fantasy: i think this includes both the ones where someone transmigrates into a baby, and the ones where they transmigrate to take care of a baby. i don't like this genre enough to check. but 'formerly abused child gets loved and coddled and anyone who tries to hurt them suffers' is a major component of this subgenre.
there's definitely more but my attention span has waned. here's some comics that are on my reading list after the cut, there's going to be undescribed screenshots because i'm lazy. you may need to find these elsewhere if you don't want to deal with tapas or webtoon and their paywalling systems.
The Greatest Estate Developer: transmigration villain isekai and progression fantasy with litrpg elements. architect uses his knowledge to save his own ass and also his new family, gets powers, everyone will unionize whether they like it or not.
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Lout of the Count's Family: transmigration villain isekai and progression fantasy. ends up in otome isekai recommendations a lot despite technically not being an otome, on account of the eye candy and shipping potential. the webnovel has turned into like six different genres by now and is asspull central but i read it anyway. protag says he just wants to save his own ass so he can relax but does it by coughing up blood constantly.
The S-Class Hunters That I Raised: regression dungeon break litrpg. guy with shitty powers regresses and has to figure out how to make his power of taking care of people suck less, turns out it's OP as all hell.
Villains are Destined to Die: villainess transmigration otome isekai, maybe a little litrpg? there's definitely a system. protag just wants to go home because the visual novel she's in is notoriously difficult and she is at constant risk of being murdered. i like this one so much i own it in print.
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Marriage of Convenience: regression romfan. not an isekai!! protag hated her life and died in poverty and shame after her husband died, this time she's going to try not doing that.
Villainesses Have More Fun: villainess transmigration otome isekai and progression fantasy. protag is very excited to be the villainess because she was the best character. she loves being rich. unfortunately at least one plot point raises the question 'why is that boy white'
Beware the Villainess: villainess transmigration otome isekai, meta as all hell, extremely meme-able faces, does not end in an OT3 but should have.
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Baroness Goes On Strike: regression romfan, also not an isekai. protag wanted a divorce on her deathbed but woke up on the first night of her marriage, wants her life to suck less this time through the power of being assertive.
The Perks of Being a Villainess: villainess transmigration otome isekai and progression fantasy. protag has resting villainess face and progresses through the power of advanced math, unregulated capitalism, and abuse of the patent and copyright systems.
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I Think I've Been Possessed Somewhere: transmigration isekai starring a main character who's read so much romance fantasy that she doesn't actually know what genre she's in because everything is too generic. meta as all hell.
Your Throne: villainess, sort of transmigrator? the crafty politically-savvy villainess bodyswaps with the naive saintess heroine, shit gets dark real fast, probably not going to end with girls kissing despite my hopes and dreams.
The Remarried Empress: divorce revenge romfan. you see this one referenced a lot in the comments of other romfans because everyone hates Rashta, the waif that the emperor divorces the empress for.
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Raising My Fiance With Money: romfan, fake dating, sort of a divorce revenge except it's her ex-fiance. no isekai elements at all, but the protag is ridiculously lucky with money, comically wealthy, and supported by her doting family despite having terrible taste in men. her love interest is a teddy bear with resting murder face.
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When The Third Wheel Strikes Back: transmigrator isekai. the protag never actually read the book, he only knows about it through osmosis because it's hugely popular and his sister is a big fan. one of the only things he knows is that in a recent update his character dies. also, it was already a transmigrator isekai before he got there. he isekai'd into an isekai. so much of the worldbuilding suggests a canon ot3 but i refuse to get my hopes up.
Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint: it's sort of a dungeon break. not really an isekai but kind of. litrpg, sure. there's regressors. there's transmigrators. there's a lot going on. kim dokja was the only reader of a terrible, ridiculously long webnovel that now appears to be coming true. the official adaptation appears to be making the webnovel less queer overall. i read the webtoon until i got impatient enough to force my way through the sometimes clunky webnovel translations. it's hard to explain orv because it's a story about stories. consuming stories, telling stories, stories told about you, becoming a story, the cost of a story. it is so long. there is so much happening. the story is resolved in the epilogue you might skip if you didn't know any better. some people find it too confusing while others read homestuck.
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julietsf1 · 2 days ago
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The Idiot I Call Mine - Lando Norris x BestFriend! Reader
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summary: best friends are supposed to share laughs, inside jokes, fries and the occasional late-night drive. what they’re not supposed to do is flirt like it’s a competitive sport or make you question every unspoken rule of friendship. at least, unless your name is Lando Norris apparently. (7.1k words)
content: fluff! friends to lovers; flirty dynamic; mutual pining
an: whaaat? a fic about another driver? yes loves. this is me coming forward as a secret Lando fan. I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did writing this :)
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Lando Norris has this annoying habit of always being right. It’s not even about anything important—it’s just little things. Like the time he guessed exactly how long it would take before I caved and ordered dessert, or when he said I’d end up watching a rom-com tonight even though I claimed I wanted “something deep and meaningful.”
“See?” he said smugly, leaning back on the couch as the opening credits of The Holiday  played. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Hardly,” I shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “You just know I have a weak spot for Jude Law. That doesn’t make you psychic.”
“No, but it does make me an excellent best friend.” He winked, plucking the popcorn off his lap and popping it into his mouth like the show-off he was.
I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t fighting a grin. Lando and I had been inseparable for years, the kind of best friends who finished each other’s sentences and shared a borderline unhealthy obsession with late-night McDonald’s runs. But lately, something had been… different.
Not bad, exactly. Just different. Maybe? I wasn’t even sure to be honest. 
“You’re staring again,” Lando said, breaking into my thoughts. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest in a way that felt entirely too casual and yet completely deliberate. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his smirk was the kind that could make even the most confident person question their sanity.
“I wasn’t staring,” I lied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth for good measure.
“You were absolutely staring,” he teased, leaning closer. “What’s on your mind, hmm? Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I am? It’s okay—you can admit it.”
“You’re such a joke,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably. “Devastatingly handsome? Please. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “And yet, here you are, spending your Friday night with me. Interesting choice.”
“I’m here for the popcorn,” I deadpanned, though even I didn’t believe myself. “And because you begged me.”
“I didn’t beg,” he protested. “I suggested strongly. There’s a difference.”
This was us—lighthearted insults, jokes at each other’s expense, and an ease in our conversations that felt like home. If there was something different lately, I told myself it was just my imagination running wild. 
“Speaking of choices,” I said, leaning back against the couch. “What’s the deal with you and your phone wallpaper?”
“What about it?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“Oh, come on, Lando,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You really expect me to believe you just happened to pick a picture of me for your wallpaper?”
“It’s a great photo,” he said with a shrug. “You look happy. And let’s not pretend your wallpaper isn’t me.”
I froze, caught. He was right—my wallpaper was him, but that wasn’t the point.
“That’s different,” I said quickly. “You look stupid in yours. It’s funny.”
“Ah, so I’m your personal clown now?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Good to know my humiliation brings you joy.”
“Always,” I said sweetly, tossing another piece of popcorn his way.
The movie played on in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. We were too busy pushing each other’s buttons, like always.
“Hey,” Lando said after a while, his tone a little softer. “You’re coming to dinner at Mum’s next weekend, right?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not really,” he said with a grin. “She’s already planning the menu. Something with pasta, probably. You know how she gets when you’re coming over.”
I smiled despite myself. His family had always treated me like one of their own, and his mum had a knack for making me feel special in ways that were both comforting and overwhelming.
“Well, in that case,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I guess I can clear my schedule.”
“Good,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I’d be bored without you there.”
It was moments like this—simple and familiar—that stuck with me longer than they should. The way he said things so casually, as if they didn’t carry any weight, even when they somehow did. 
“You’ve got something on your face,” I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.
“Where?” he asked, leaning closer.
“Right there,” I said, tapping the corner of my mouth.
He smirked, deliberately licking the spot where I’d pointed. “Better?”
“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I said, shoving him away. But I was laughing, and so was he.
“You love it,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue. Because maybe I did.
As the night went on, the teasing continued, each remark more loaded than the last. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if it was the movie or Lando’s lingering glances that had me feeling so off-kilter.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence as he stood to clean up the popcorn bowl. “Something on your mind?”
“Just thinking,” I said vaguely, not meeting his gaze.
“About?” he pressed, leaning against the counter with a smirk that said he already knew the answer.
“Nothing important,” I said, grabbing my phone and pretending to scroll.
“Liar,” he said, his voice playful but probing. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know that?”
I glanced up at him, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had been doing lately. He was standing there like he had all the time in the world, his green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
“Goodnight, Lando,” I said finally, brushing past him on my way to the couch.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.
“You know, for someone who claims to be an athlete, you spend an alarming amount of time eating,” I said, glancing at Lando over the top of my menu.
“Carbs are fuel,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand that we could’ve gone somewhere normal instead of whatever this place is,” I said, gesturing to the overly fancy restaurant. The kind of place where the wine glasses sparkled brighter than the chandeliers, and the menu was full of words I couldn’t pronounce.
“You’re so ungrateful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how hard it was to get a table here? I had to name-drop myself.”
“Wow,” I said dryly. “The struggle.”
“Exactly. And now you’re here, about to enjoy the finest pasta in town, thanks to me. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”
“Gratitude? You dragged me here under false pretenses. You said this was a ‘low-key spot.’”
“It is low-key,” he argued, gesturing around. “For Monte Carlo standards.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my face. This was just how things were with Lando—effortless, easy, and borderline ridiculous.
“Alright, what are you getting?” Lando asked, lowering his menu.
“Fettuccine Alfredo,” I said without hesitation.
“Of course you are,” he said, smirking. “Predictable.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I shot back. “What are you getting, then? Something groundbreaking? Life-changing? Revolutionary?”
“Tagliatelle al tartufo,” he said with a mockingly posh accent.
“Wow,” I said, feigning awe. “Truffle pasta. You’re really pushing the boundaries, Norris.”
“Don’t be jealous just because I have sophisticated taste,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face.
“‘Sophisticated’ is one way to put it,” I muttered, pretending to study the menu again. “Another is ‘pretentious.’”
“You’ll be begging for a bite,” he said confidently, setting the menu down.
“Please,” I said, scoffing. “You’ll be stealing mine before the plates even hit the table.”
He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You know me so well.”
The food arrived soon after, and, as predicted, we switched plates halfway through without even discussing it. It was second nature by now, like so many other things about us.
“You know,” Lando said, twirling a forkful of fettuccine, “if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, I could be a food critic.”
“Sure,” I said, deadpan. “Because people are dying to know what Lando Norris thinks about pasta.”
“They would be,” he said, undeterred. “My palate is unparalleled.”
“Your palate consists of pizza, chicken nuggets, and whatever I’m eating,” I shot back.
“And yet, here we are,” he said, gesturing to the table. “Me, enjoying this culinary masterpiece, and you, enjoying my company. Life is good.”
It was shaping up to be another night of easy conversation and mindless teasing until a voice interrupted us.
“Lando?”
I looked up to see two women standing at the edge of our table. They were both tall, blonde, and effortlessly elegant, the kind of women who looked like they belonged in a magazine spread rather than real life.
“Oh, hey!” Lando said, his face lighting up in recognition.
I glanced at him, watching as his entire demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He straightened up, his grin widening just enough to make my stomach twist.
“We haven’t seen you in forever,” one of the women said, her smile bright and practiced.
“I know,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “It’s been a while.”
“You look great,” one of them said, her smile bright as she leaned in a little too close.
“So do you,” Lando replied, his tone polite but just warm enough to make me suddenly very interested in my water glass. The conversation floated around me, full of laughter and inside jokes I didn’t understand.
“And who’s this?” one of them finally asked, her gaze flicking to me with polite curiosity.
“This is Y/N,” Lando said, gesturing toward me with a casualness that felt too deliberate. “My best friend.”
Best friend. There it was again.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
“Likewise,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant.
They didn’t linger much longer—just enough to leave their mark before excusing themselves with a wave and a promise to “catch up soon.”
“Old friends of yours?” I asked once they were gone, my voice light but with a slight edge.
“Something like that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his water.
“Something like that?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged, his smirk returning. “They’re sisters. I, uh… may have had a thing with both of them. At different times, obviously.”
My fork froze midair. “Both of them?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughing. “It’s not that weird.”
“It’s incredibly weird,” I said, shaking my head.
“I mean, it didn’t overlap or anything,” he added, as if that somehow made it better. “But yeah… sisters.”
I stared at him, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s… impressive? I guess?”
“Thank you,” he said, grinning like he’d just been handed an award. “Think I should call them again?”
“Sure,” I forced a laugh, stabbing at my pasta. “And then ask if they have any other sisters you might’ve missed.”
He chuckled, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “Good idea. Always room for a hat trick.”
My stomach churned uncomfortably, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I focused on my plate, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way my mood had shifted.
The paddock was its usual chaotic self—teams rushing to prepare for practice sessions, fans peering over barriers for a glimpse of their favorite drivers, and media personnel darting between interviews. I decided to escape the madness for a bit, heading toward the staff catering building for a much-needed coffee.
The line was mercifully short, but as I joined it, I noticed someone already waiting near the front. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing a Ferrari polo with his name—Marco—stitched neatly on the chest. He turned slightly, catching my eye and offering a polite smile.
“Busy morning?” he asked, his tone warm and conversational.
“Something like that,” I replied with a small smile. “You?”
“Always,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But coffee makes it manageable, no?”
I nodded. “A universal truth.”
Marco stepped aside to let me order, a gesture so casual it almost went unnoticed. As I gave my order to the barista, I felt him glance at me again—not invasive, just curious.
“So, not Ferrari,” he said after I stepped back to wait for my coffee.
“Is it that obvious?” I joked.
“A little,” he admitted, his grin widening. “You’re far too relaxed to be one of us.”
“Should I be offended or flattered?” I asked, tilting my head playfully.
“Flattered,” he said easily. “Relaxed is a good thing.”
We fell into an easy rhythm as we waited. Marco was effortlessly charming, asking questions without prying and tossing in a few self-deprecating remarks about Ferrari’s chaos.
“You’re here with a team?” he asked eventually.
“A friend,” I said vaguely.
“Lucky friend,” he said, his tone light but genuine.
I laughed softly. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.
“There you are.”
I turned to see Lando approaching, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharper than usual.
“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were doing media.”
“Finished early,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly to Marco, who stood quietly by my side. “And I figured I’d find you here.”
“Good instincts,” I said lightly, though something about his sudden appearance felt… deliberate.
Marco offered his hand to Lando, ever polite. “Marco. Ferrari engineering.”
“Lando,” he replied, shaking his hand. “McLaren driving.”
Marco chuckled. “I know who you are. Good to meet you.”
“You too,” Lando said, his tone friendly but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.
The barista called my name, and I turned to grab my coffee, giving them a moment to exchange polite words. By the time I returned, Marco was stepping away with his own drink.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, offering me a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.
Lando watched him go before turning back to me. “Who was that?”
“Marco,” I said simply.
“And what was Marco talking to you about?” he asked, his tone too casual to be entirely innocent.
I raised an eyebrow. “Coffee, mostly. Why?”
“No reason,” he said quickly, taking a sip of my drink.
I studied him for a moment, noting the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird,” he said defensively.
“You’re definitely acting weird.”
Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely baffled.
“He was flirting,” Lando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I blinked. “He was being nice.”
“Nice,” Lando repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”
“Lando, he’s just a guy who works for Ferrari,” I said, shaking my head.
“Exactly,” he said, as if that proved his point.
There was a beat of silence as I processed his words.
“You sound jealous,” I said finally, testing the waters.
“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the flicker of something in his eyes gave him away. “Hardly. I just think you can do way better than some guy who chats you up in the coffee line.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” he asked, smirking now.
“Yes,” I said firmly, though the warmth in my chest betrayed me.
We walked back toward the McLaren garage, his mood lightening with every step. By the time we arrived, he was back to his usual self—chatting with the mechanics and laughing at some joke I’d already missed.
But his words stayed with me, replaying in my mind as I sat down with my coffee. My coffee which Lando had somehow already drank half of. 
The McLaren lounge was a rare oasis of calm in the chaos of a race weekend. Engineers hustled past the windows, radios crackled with updates, and somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life. But in here, it was all plush couches, soft lighting, and a distinct lack of urgency.
I was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a magazine, while Oscar and Lando lounged on the other side. Lando, as usual, couldn’t sit still. He was draped sideways over the armrest, absently spinning a water bottle in his hands.
“Alright,” Lando announced, breaking the comfortable silence. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”
I looked up from my magazine, narrowing my eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“It’s an important question,” he insisted, his grin wide and mischievous.
I pretended to ponder for a moment. “One horse-sized duck. Definitely.”
Lando gaped at me like I’d just declared something outrageous. “Terrible answer. Absolutely terrible.”
“It’s the smart answer,” I shot back, sitting up straighter. “You outmaneuver one big target instead of exhausting yourself trying to wrangle a hundred tiny ones.”
“Do you even know how terrifying a horse-sized duck would be?” Lando asked, his voice rising in mock disbelief.
“And do you know how terrifying a hundred duck-sized horses would be?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.
Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’d rather face one giant, angry duck with a wingspan bigger than this couch?”
“Absolutely,” I said confidently. “Ducks aren’t that scary.”
“They can bite, you know,” he shot back, gesturing dramatically. “One snap, and you’re done for.”
I smirked, leaning closer. “I think I’d survive. Besides, I have a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“You,” I said, deadpan. “I’ll just toss you in its path and run.”
Lando gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. That’s cold, Y/N. I thought we were a team.”
“We are,” I said, grinning. “But only if you pick the right answer next time.”
For a moment, he was quiet, his grin faltering just slightly as he met my gaze. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of something softer beneath the banter. But it was enough to make my stomach do that annoying little flip I’d been trying to ignore.
“Lando,” Oscar interjected, his tone casual but pointed. “You’re staring.”
“I am not,” Lando said quickly, his ears turning the faintest shade of pink as he looked away.
“You are,” Oscar said, leaning back with a smirk.
“You’re imagining things,” Lando muttered, crossing his arms.
Oscar snorted but didn’t press the issue, instead grabbing his phone and scrolling through it idly. But the look he shot Lando wasn’t lost on me—or Lando, for that matter.
As the banter settled into silence, I decided to grab a drink from the catering area, leaving the two of them alone.
The moment the door swung shut behind me, Oscar struck. “Mate, you’re not exactly subtle, you know.”
“About what?” Lando asked, feigning innocence as he fidgeted with the water bottle.
Oscar didn’t even look up from his phone. “About Y/N.”
“What about her?”
Oscar set his phone down, leveling Lando with a knowing look. “You’re acting like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”
Lando scoffed, though the tips of his ears betrayed him again. “That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”
“Sure,” Oscar said, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “That’s why you light up like a Christmas tree whenever she walks in the room.”
“I do not,” Lando said defensively, but his voice lacked conviction.
“You do,” Oscar replied, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Mate, you’re glaring holes into the back of her head every time she talks to someone else. And don’t even get me started on how you were watching her during the duck-and-horse debate like she’d just solved world peace.”
“That’s—” Lando started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”
“Right,” Oscar said, his smirk firmly in place. “It’s exactly like that, but go off.”
Lando opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s… we’ve known each other forever. It’s Y/N.”
Oscar nodded, as if that made sense, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Don’t you think it would be time to change that soon? You two are exhausting.”
Lando shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it.
“I’m just saying,” Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re completely gone for her. Admit it already.”
Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning now. “But I’m right.”
Lando didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the door where I’d just left. And for the first time, he let himself wonder if maybe—just maybe—Oscar was onto something.
The moment we walked into George’s celebration, the energy hit like a wave. The room was packed with familiar faces—drivers, engineers, and friends—dressed to the nines in that effortless way people in motorsport always seemed to manage. String lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft jazz played over the speakers, and a steady hum of conversation filled the air.
“You’re going to owe me for this,” I teased, glancing at Lando. “Dragging me here after wasting twenty minutes deciding between two identical shirts.”
“They weren’t identical,” Lando replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weaved through the crowd. “One had a darker stitch.”
“Completely life-changing,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.
“See? You get it,” he shot back with a grin, steering us toward a booth near the bar.
The way his hand lingered, warm and steady, was something I tried not to think too much about. It was just Lando being Lando—playful, touchy, and completely oblivious to the little flips my stomach insisted on doing whenever he leaned too close.
We found our way to a booth not far from the bar, where Alexandra and Charles were already seated. Charles was gesturing animatedly about something, while Alexandra sat with her usual poised grace, sipping champagne. When she saw us, her face lit up.
“Enfin, vous êtes là !” Alexandra exclaimed, waving us over. (Finally, you’re here!)
“Lando a changé de chemise trois fois,” I replied, throwing him a look. (Lando changed his shirt three times.)
Charles chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “Toujours dramatique, hein ?” (Always dramatic, huh?)
“English,” Lando whined as we slid into the booth. “You’re ganging up on me in French. It’s not fair.”
“Pauvre bébé,” I teased, patting his arm lightly. (Poor baby.)
“Whatever that means,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.
The conversation flowed easily between the four of us. Lando, of course, dominated the chatter, weaving an elaborate story about George’s awkward rookie days. His expressions were so animated, his gestures so over-the-top, that even Charles—usually the calm and composed one—was cracking up by the end.
“That’s not true,” I said, nudging Lando with my elbow. “You’re exaggerating again.”
“I’m not!” he protested, his green eyes wide with mock innocence. “It’s all true. Every word.”
“Sure it is,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Back me up here!” he said, turning to Charles.
Charles raised a brow, taking a deliberate sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there, but… I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Alexandra laughed softly, glancing at me. “Toujours l’acteur dramatique, ce Lando.” (Always the drama actor, that Lando.)
“Hey,” Lando said, pointing at her. “I know that wasn’t a compliment.”
I smirked, leaning closer. “It absolutely wasn’t.”
He gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my own friends. I’ll never recover.”
“You’ll survive,” I said, brushing him off, though the warmth in his gaze lingered just a beat too long.
Lando eventually excused himself to grab drinks, leaving me to chat with Alexandra and Charles. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexandra leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Il est tellement évident qu’il a un faible pour toi,” she said softly, her voice full of amusement. (It’s so obvious he has a thing for you.)
“Quoi?” I asked, my cheeks heating instantly. (What?)
“Ouvre les yeux,” she said, smirking. (Open your eyes.)
Charles chuckled, sipping his drink as he watched the exchange. “C’est écrit partout sur son visage.” (It’s written all over his face.)
“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”
Alexandra raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, her expression saying everything her words didn’t.
At the bar, Lando was cornered by Carlos, who leaned casually against the counter, his expression smug. 
“You know,” Carlos said, his tone casual, “you’re not very subtle.”
“What are you talking about?” Lando asked, though his focus kept drifting toward the booth where I was sitting.
Carlos raised his drink, gesturing toward me. “You’ve been staring at her all night, hermano. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”
Lando stiffened, his grin faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just tell her,” Carlos said, swirling his drink lazily.
“It’s not that simple,” Lando replied, his voice quieter now.
Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because if I mess this up, I lose her,” Lando admitted, glancing toward our booth.
Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “You’re scared. That’s what this is.”
“Of course I’m scared,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my best friend. If it doesn’t work—”
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Carlos interrupted, his voice softer now. “But you’d better do something soon.”
Carlos’s smirk softened slightly, but before Lando could reply, Liam Lawson appeared at the bar.
“Who’s the girl with Charles and Alexandra?” Liam asked, nodding toward the booth. “She single?”
Carlos grinned mischievously. “Yeah, she is—go for it.”
Lando’s head snapped toward Carlos, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Carlos.”
“What?” Carlos said, feigning innocence. “Just giving the kid a shot.”
Liam approached with the kind of confidence that only a Red Bull driver could pull off.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’re Y/N, right?”
I blinked, momentarily surprised but recovering quickly. “That’s me. And you are?”
“Liam Lawson,” he said, extending a hand.
I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you.”
“How do you know George?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world.
“Through Lando,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but measured. His easy demeanor was almost disarming, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me hyper-aware of my surroundings.
“Ah, Lando,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Lucky guy. You two seem pretty close.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to overthink his comment.
“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “his loss if he hasn’t made a move yet.”
That caught me off guard. My gaze flicked to his, searching for any hint of a joke, but he was entirely serious—or at least good at pretending to be.
“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.
Liam grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying. If I were him, I wouldn’t be sitting over there, letting someone else steal your attention.”
The comment was bold, and I didn’t quite know how to respond. My thoughts were a mess of confusion, flattery, and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could formulate a response, the familiar sound of Lando’s voice cut through the air.
“Liam,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the table. His tone was calm, but his green eyes held a sharpness that made me sit up a little straighter.
Liam glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“Christian’s looking for you,” Lando said, his tone casual but firm. “Something about debrief notes.”
Liam frowned, clearly reluctant. “Now?”
“Yeah,” Lando said, nodding. “He seemed pretty keen.”
Liam hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and Lando like he was weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”
“You too,” I replied, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite pin down.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Lando lingered for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided my gaze.
“That,” Charles said, his tone thick with amusement, “was the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Lando shot him a glare, his ears turning faintly red. “Mind your own business, Charles.”
Charles just smirked, raising his glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”
I didn’t say anything, but a flicker of suspicion settled in the back of my mind.
Had Lando just…? No. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?
“Let’s get a drink,” Alexandra said, pulling me to my feet.
As Alexandra and I made our way back toward the booth, she nudged me gently, her eyes glinting with curiosity.
“Lando looked like he was about to breathe fire earlier,” she said casually, sipping her drink.
I laughed softly, trying to deflect. “He’s always protective. It’s nothing.”
“Protective?” Alexandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That was not protective, chérie. That was jealousy.”
I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short as we neared the booth, Lando and Charles’s voices filtering through the hum of the room.
“It will just be awkward, mate,” Lando said, his tone low and almost resigned.
“Just talk about it,” Charles replied simply.
“It’s not that simple,” Lando muttered. “She will never be more than just a friend.”
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened, and the air around me seemed to still. Alexandra’s hand touched my arm gently, but I barely noticed.
“I— I need some air,” I managed, turning away before she could respond.
The ache in my chest grew with every step I took, his words echoing in my head.
She will never be more than just a friend.
And just like that, everything I thought I’d imagined felt painfully real.
I turned my phone face down on the table at Gigi’s, willing myself not to glance at the screen again. The missed calls from Lando were piling up, his name lighting up my notifications every half hour like clockwork. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. But every time I thought about his voice, his laugh, his damn words, the ache in my chest tightened.
She will never be more than just a friend.
I shook my head, forcing the thought away as the waiter arrived with my order. The smell of rich, cheesy pasta wafted up, comforting in the way only food could be. I twirled a forkful absentmindedly, hoping the carbs would somehow fill the space that had been hollowed out the night before.
The familiar growl of an engine outside pulled my attention from my plate. I glanced toward the window and froze.
The unmistakable silhouette of Lando’s Miura parked just outside, sleek and shining even under the soft glow of streetlights. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was, stepping out effortless as usual—but his expression wasn’t the easygoing grin I was used to. He looked… worried.
Before I could decide what to do, he spotted me through the window, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He pushed through the door, his eyes locking onto mine immediately.
“There you are,” he said, relief evident in his tone as he approached my table.
I blinked, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”
He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down without asking. “Looking for you.”
My heart twisted. “Why?”
“Because you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice quieter now.
I looked away, focusing on my fork. “I had my phone off that’s all.”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
“I knew I’d find you here,” he said finally, his voice softer but steady.
I glanced up, frowning. “What?”
“You always turn to cheesy Italian food when you’re upset,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s your thing.”
The casual observation caught me off guard, a mix of warmth and frustration bubbling in my chest.
“So what?” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “You’re some kind of expert on me now?”
He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Y/N, I know you better than anyone. And I know something’s wrong.”
I didn’t answer, twisting my fork in the pasta and pretending to be engrossed in my meal. But the usual comfort it brought was absent, replaced by the uncomfortable weight of his gaze.
“You’re not yourself,” Lando said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, my tone clipped.
“Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his tone more serious than I was used to.
I set my fork down, the clink of metal against porcelain louder than it should have been. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”
His eyes softened, his frustration giving way to concern. “Y/N…”
“Lando, I’m fine,” I interrupted, though the words felt hollow.
He didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He sat back, glancing down at my half-finished plate of pasta before gesturing to the waiter.
“Can we get the check, please?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Paying,” he said simply, standing as the waiter approached.
“For me?”
“Yes,” he said, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Come on.”
“Come on where?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“You’ll see,” he said, extending a hand.
I hesitated for a moment before letting him pull me to my feet.
The warm night air hit us as we stepped out of Gigi’s, the soft sound of waves in the distance mingling with the faint hum of the city. Lando didn’t say anything, his grip on my hand firm but gentle as he led me toward Larvotto Beach, just a short walk away.
“Lando, seriously,” I said as we reached the sand. “What’s going on?”
He stopped, turning to face me, his green eyes brighter under the moonlight.
“We need to talk.” he said simply.
And just like that, my heart started racing, even though I had no idea what he was going to say.
The beach stretched out before us, quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, their reflection dancing on the dark water. Lando walked beside me, his shoulders tense, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.
For once, I didn’t fill the silence. I didn’t trust myself to. My thoughts were a whirlwind—last night’s overheard words still fresh in my mind, colliding with the unexpected intensity of this moment.
We walked like that for a while, the sand soft beneath our feet, until Lando came to a sudden stop. He turned to face me, his green eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach twist.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
I crossed my arms, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “Try the beginning.”
He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “The beginning’s too far back. I’d be here all night.”
“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening. “Y/N, I have a lot of friends. Like, a lot of friends.”
I blinked, confused. “Okay?”
“But none of them get to me the way you do,” he said, his voice dropping.
I stared at him, my breath catching. “What are you saying?”
He glanced out at the water, like he was searching for courage in the rolling waves. “I mean… you’re not just anyone to me. You never have been. You’re the first person I think of when something happens—good or bad. And the idea of upsetting you? It’s unbearable.”
My throat tightened as his words sank in.
“Like today,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You ignored my calls, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I’d done something wrong. Whether I hurt you somehow. Because if I did…” He stopped, exhaling sharply, and shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset because of me.”
I didn’t respond, too caught up in the flood of emotions his words were pulling from me.
“When you’re upset, it breaks my heart,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And when you laugh… it’s like my entire day gets brighter. When you’re sad, it feels like my world’s falling apart.”
“Lando,” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.
“I’m not done,” he said, his words tumbling out now, faster and more frantic. “I’ve been feeling like this for so long, and I thought I could just push it aside or pretend it didn’t matter, but it does. It matters so much. And if I messed up—if I’ve ruined this somehow—I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You didn’t—”
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. And I know this might change everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”
I froze, his confession slamming into me with the force of a tidal wave.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”
Without thinking, I stepped closer, grabbed his face, and kissed him.
For a second, he was completely still, caught off guard. But then he kissed me back, his hands slipping to my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened quickly, making the world around me disappear.
When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath.
“So… I’m guessing you feel the same?” he asked, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re so slow sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head with a laugh.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” I said, smiling.
The relief on his face was almost comical. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly like he never wanted to let go.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he murmured into my hair.
“And I’ve wanted to hear it,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… yesterday. Did I say something? Did I—”
I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I overheard you talking to Charles.”
His face paled. “Oh.”
“You said I’d never be more than a friend,” I said, my voice wavering.
Lando winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, Y/N, that’s not how I meant it at all. I said that because I thought I didn’t stand a chance. Like… you’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to mess up what we already had by wanting something I thought I could never have.”
He looked at me with a mix of regret and hope. “I’m an idiot. It wasn’t because I didn’t want more—it’s because I didn’t think I could have it.”
“You are an idiot,” I said, my lips twitching into a small smile. “But you’re my idiot.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yours, huh? Bold claim.”
I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Think you can find someone else to deal with you the way I do?”
He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Deal with me? You mean worship my charm and tolerate my perfection?”
“Oh, please,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “The only thing I’m worshipping is the patience I’ve built up putting up with you.”
His hands slid to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, his smirk turning more mischievous. “You love me. Admit it.”
“Not a chance,” I said, even as my pulse quickened.
His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my eyes again, his voice softening but still teasing. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
Before I could respond, he closed the gap, kissing me again with a fierceness that took me by surprise. This wasn’t the hesitant, nervous kiss from before. It was confident, teasing, like everything we’d been holding back had finally snapped into place.
I kissed him back, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands tightened on my waist, grounding me as he smiled against my lips, murmuring, “Still denying it?”
I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, raising an eyebrow. “You think one kiss is going to make me fold?”
“Two,” he said smugly, leaning in for another without waiting for an answer.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him, meeting him halfway this time. His lips curved into a grin mid-kiss, and I could feel his stupid, insufferable smugness radiating off him.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked when we pulled apart, my voice laced with mock annoyance.
“Unbelievably,” he replied, his grin widening as he rested his forehead against mine. “And don’t pretend you’re not.”
“Maybe I am,” I admitted, smirking. “But if you keep talking, I might start regretting it.”
He laughed, pulling me closer. “Alright, no more talking. For now.”
“Good,” I said, leaning in again, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else fell away.
The weight of everything unsaid was gone, replaced by the warmth of realizing we’d both been fighting our way toward the same truth: we’d always belonged to each other.
When we broke apart, Lando’s grin turned mischievous, and I immediately knew he was up to something. Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly and started toward the water.
“Lando! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, squirming in his arms as laughter bubbled out of me.
“Payback for all those times you called me an idiot,” he teased, stopping just as the waves lapped at his shoes.
He finally set me down, his smirk smug and unapologetic. “Admit it. You love me anyway.”
Figures. I’m in love with someone who steals my fries and once confidently argued that dolphins were just “sea dogs.” I wouldn’t have it any other way though.
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harmoonix · 2 days ago
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☆ Mantra ☆
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• Birthday Edition ▪︎
☆ People can have more than 1 prominent planet in their chart. Most people have max 2-3 prominent planets (strong aspects and houses)
☆ The planet with the most aspects of your chart can also have a strong influence over all your chart. Look at the planets with the most aspects
☆ Having a stellium in your 7th house can the native to dependent too much on others, is that energy of you not liking to do things alone so you rather have people around you
☆ Your ex/crush/future spouse will at least have a common placement like you in their birth chart, it can mostly be the venus/moon or a sign who makes good aspects with these
☆ South node in pisces/cancer/libra/capricorn can make the native very nostalgic, this person often gets stuck in the past and that can create this nostalgic memories
☆ Having opposite venus signs with someone does not matter who is the vibe of "right person. wrong time. " sometimes it works, sometimes not. It is also important to move on once this happens
☆ Pluto in the 1st/6th/10th or 11th house can make enemies fast, sometimes it happens because of envy/jealousy and sometimes out of pure evil because worlds changes
☆ You can feel safe around people who share placements in the same sign as your 4th house. They may give you a feeling of home and comfort
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☆ You can easily learn your chart if you learn the order of the zodiac signs. So you can remember everything instead of checking idk astro.com every time
☆ Talking about astro sites, I love astro.seek more than astro.com is also more easy to read the chart. Just my opinion
☆ Cancer Rising in your solar return chart can indicate a more emotional year that's to come in your life. Lots of healing is happening
☆ Leo Venus/Rising/Moon natives like to be seen in a positive light or to seem like everything is alright. They don't want people to see their flaws. It's a common thing i observed mostly with Leo Moons
☆ You can have a glowup in your life every time the sun and venus return to the signs you have in your chart. Basically, a Sun/Venus return
☆ Sagittarius Dominant natives truly inspire other people. I think because of their expanded mindset and optimistic nature, they can influence others the same way
☆ Moon in Aries in your solar return chart, it's finally the time to take courage and to do the things you wanted from a long time
☆ Mercury x Ascendant aspects (both harsh and good) can smile a lot when they feel awkward. They can also seem eccentric
☆ Jupiter x Ascendant aspects can give an attractive body type or usually the type of body that gets a lot of attention (Jupiter can also make the body appear more thick)
☆ You will have the craziest conversations with Gemini/Libra/Scorpio/Sagittarius Mercuries. These are the Mercuries who jump from one topic to another and later forget what they were talking about
☆ Sun in the (10th) 8th and 12th houses can happen to experience shame publicly or to be ashamed by others in public.
☆ Having an air rising or an air venus can indicate you have a very refreshing style/appearance. Flawless
☆ Having an Aquarius/Virgo MC (Midheaven) can indicate getting liked/admired for your projects or your work/people will appreciate what you do
☆ Chiron in earth signs do not get the praise they deserve. These natives often take care and heal everyone around them, but when it comes to their own needs..these can be ignored
☆ Placements in the 10th house can end up working in politics, especially Mars or Pluto. This can also happen if these planets are in Capricorn or at 10° 22° degrees
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☆ You will always be vibing with the people who have their moon/mercury/venus in the same sign as your 3rd/7th/11th house. These houses involve good relationships
☆ Moon in Aries or Capricorn can ofen spot toxic energies, and truthfully, they don't fuck with toxic people. The native will get irritated
☆ Having an empty 6th house can indicate you can lack routines in your daily life, and it can be any type of routine, from the morning routine to the evening
☆ Lacking 6th house placements or having a weak 6th house can also indicate issues with your health overall. Is good to check in with a doctor from time to time
☆ Leo/Taurus/Virgo Venus, they really pay a lot of attention to the details. They know how to read the room, energies of other people
☆ Having Neptune or Pluto in your 1st house can indicate you tend to forget about your own needs, you'll rather focus on something else than yourself
☆ 10th house ruler in the 1st house or vice versa cand indicate a person who can be known for their personality or looks, also you tend to get compared to others
☆ 12th house ruler in the 2nd house can indicate the person can invest in their spiritual journey, can meditate a lot, buying things that can heal them
☆ 3rd house ruler in the 11th house can indicate friends having the same hobbies, dreams, etc. You can share common things with them
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Hope you all have a beautiful day and a beautiful weekend ☆ first weekend of 2025!! Special post today because it is my b-day, enjoy 💖💖💖
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hyunsuloves · 2 days ago
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omg girl I'd just seen your "squid game women with a timid s/o" , could you do the same but for men? thanksss 💖
super shy.
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synopsis … squid game men with a timid s/o ꨄ︎. (or a part two to this.)
pairings … myung-gi, dae-ho, jun-ho, thanos, nam-gyu, min-su x fem!reader (separately)
warnings … fem reader, non game au, some may be ooc but what else is new, i apologize for any typos !!
lovely notes … the post i did with the female characters did surprisingly well omg..
꩜ [ 857 words ]
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myung-gi / player 333 is so similar yet so different from you. he’s not a candid person, but he doesn’t always keep to himself.
he tends to keep under wraps but isn’t opposed to speaking out around others.
he encourages you to speak up for yourself, though he’s joking the majority of the time. he likes to tease you way too often for comfort.
“you know you can speak up for yourself, right?” “myung-gi, leave me the hell alone.” “this is what happens when i try to help you. so ungrateful.���
he orders for the both of you, so even if you weren’t so shy, he’d take upon the task himself either way.
he makes fun of people in awkward social settings to ease your worries. he’ll whisper the dumbest jokes ever to make you feel less awkward around the large crowd of bodies.
the both of you just stay near one another while in public. there’s nothing better than the proximity of a loved one when in the worst possible social setting.
dae-ho / player 388 is your polar opposite. he’s very social, energetic, and forthright.
he’s a social butterfly wherever he goes, and you have the misfortune of constantly being dragged along.
he’s always ready to go when you are. even if he isn’t finished socializing, he’s saying his farewells as soon as you tell him that you’re ready to leave.
“hey, you ready to go?” “we’ve only been here a few hours. go have fun, baby.” “no, let’s go. i wanna go home with you.”
despite dragging you to every social event ever, he’ll speak for you without even thinking about it. even if you can speak for yourself, he talks for you. he always feels slightly guilty for dragging you out of your humble abode to accompany him to his affairs.
he speaks up for you every time, without fail. he defends you, orders your food for you, the whole deal.
jun-ho is your contrast, as he’s far from shy. he isn’t always outspoken.
while he has a more free-spoken personality than yours, he has moments when he’s just as reserved as you are.
he’s the first to your defense when he sees someone troubling you. even if you weren’t his partner, he’d rush to your defense nonetheless.
“hey, tell me if they say anything else to you.” “of course. thank you, jun-ho.”
the way this man is so protective over you is so nonsensical. he’d be defensive nonetheless, but especially with your timid nature.
thanos / player 230 couldn’t be more different from you. he’s the most eccentric and outgoing person you have ever met.
from social gatherings to parties, to any get-together he can find, you’ll find him there. of course, he drags you along to wherever he’s going.
he urges you to speak for yourself more often than not. although he doesn’t mind speaking for you, a lot of the time he’ll put you in situations in which you have no choice but to verbalize.
“señorita, learn how to speak for yourself.” “stop talking to me, su-bong.”
to no one’s surprise, he’d fight over you if needed. if you’re being targeted, he’d attack the individual without a second thought.
his favorite thing to do is fluster you. compliments upon compliments is all you hear from this man, and it’s all to see you act all diffident.
nam-gyu / player 124 is, like thanos, your polar. he’s a very extroverted person, opposite your timid demeanor.
he’s a very lax, social type of person. he likes to relax when he’s at get-togethers, similar to you.
he loves to flatter you. it’s not even to fluster you, he just wants you to be so conscious of how much he loves you all the time.
“you look so pretty, baby.” “leave me alone, nam-gyu.” “what? i mean it.”
he’s the first person to come to your defense, as expected. even though he’s the type to let himself be belittled, he’d never let it happen to you.
he’s the kind of person you can sit in silence with and not have it be awkward. silence with him is quite comforting.
min-su / player 126 is literally your twin. the both of you are the most reserved people known to man.
the amount of times you’ve just sat in silence, enjoying the other's presences is too much to count. the two of you simply sit in quietness.
if it comes to something like ordering food, you often take the initiative because min-su is way too shy for his own good.
“can you order for me?” “of course, love. i got it.” “thank you so much. where would i be without you?”
the only person either of you is comfortable around is the other. you’re a wreck around others, but it’s absolute tranquility when you’re with one another.
if it came to defending one another, you’d come to his defense without hesitance. he’s more tentative to defend either one of you, so it usually comes down to you doing it.
the both of you are a shy pairing and a very likely couple that surprised no one.
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reidrum · 1 day ago
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glory of the snow
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note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah
summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader
wc: 3k
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“Oh, sweet girl.”
Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.
Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.
The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.
He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”
You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”
“You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”
There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.
Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.
It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.
Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.
“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.
It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.
But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.
You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.
Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”
“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.
He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.
“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.
It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.
“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.
You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.
“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.
What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.
“Embarrassed.”
“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”
The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“How so?”
“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.
A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”
“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”
“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”
“I know,”
“I just thought you wanted to wait.”
“I do.”
“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”
“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”
“Am I missing something?”
You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”
His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.
He doesn’t laugh. 
The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”
You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”
“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”
You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.
Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.
All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.
Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”
He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.
“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.
“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”
His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.
You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”
“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.
“Like what?” you ask.
“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”
Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”
He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”
Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.  
“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”
The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.
“Yeah, yes.” you waver.
He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“
He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”
You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate. 
He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.
Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”
He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.
The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”
You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.
His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.
A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.
He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?” 
He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”
His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”
You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.
Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.
The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.
The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.
His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”
It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.
His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.
“You okay?”
You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”
Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.
He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”
Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”
He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”
“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.
“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”
You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.
You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”
Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”
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ourfirstlink · 2 days ago
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And that’s how moving in with Sylus happened.
Sylus staying at your place felt like a fever dream at first, but you were so confused once you realised he was as subtle as a bull in a china shop around your place, which was completely unusual.
No matter how much effort he put not to wake you up too early in the morning, you would eventually be woken up from your sweet dreams by him bumping his body against whatever was on his way. However, he had no idea you were hearing his misadventures almost every single time he was staying there.
The genuine shock on his face when you finally admitted that he wasn’t being quiet (which was none of his fault) led him to think that he didn’t belong to this tiny little home of yours. It could be seen as extremely dramatic yet it proves how much he cares about you and your wellbeing — he doesn’t want you to feel discomfort of any sort.
You didn’t want him to feel guilty and actually find this situation endearing, especially how he seemed lost in his thoughts after looking away from your face with a faint blush on his cheeks.
“Maybe i should stop…”
“Overthinking” you cut him off.
Raising a brow, he was anxiously waiting for the words that were about to come out of your mouth.
“First of all, i’ll get used to it and will stop waking up at every single noise i hear…” you placed your hand on his “secondly, our home will be a lot more bigger than this tiny apartment.”
A sigh of relief escaped his mouth and he looked right into your eyes.
“Our?” getting closer to you, his hand left yours just so both of his can cup each side of your face. “Home is wherever you are, my love. But sharing something we can consider as ours…”
Closing the distance between the two of you, he gently placed a kiss on your lips.
“Mmh this is the life i’ve always dreamt about.”
Before you can say anything, your lips are sealed with his with more passion, a hint of yearning and love that only made you melt more.
“I’d buy an entire planet just so i make sure i don’t wake you up ever again, just so you know.”
After this breathless confession, you both decided to let the passion consume your beings.
That’s how you decided it was the right time to move in together.
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slvttyplum · 2 days ago
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eren's eyes hung low, shifting in his spot on the couch while his hand was down his sweatpants, a lazy smile as his glossy eyes slid over your figure, his dick getting harder.
"you got money this time, or i have to spot you?" his words taking you out of the trance you were in, rolling your eyes and grabbing the wraps from the table.
"yeah, im taking these too." walking closer, shaking them in his face, a low laugh erupting from his throat, his eyes running back over your body and landing on your thighs.
his mouth salivating, the stuffy atmosphere and his thick throbbing not making the situation any better.
eren could feel it; it didn't help that his body was tingling all over, taking his other hand and rubbing his thigh, leaning his head back but his eyes never leaving yours.
it didn't take long for this to happen... it never did.
"mm, fuck right there, don't stop." your legs spread open and his head in between them, licking up every drop that came out of you like the hungry dog he was.
no one tasted as good as you, taking his dick out and stroking it, moaning into your dripping core. he could spend all day eating you out, but nothing suppressed his craving more than you being on top of him, bouncing like a bitch in heat.
pushing you on your back and pushing your thighs against your chest, pounding into you.
"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." losing himself, it felt like you were one together; he didn't realize how long he was waiting for you until he was buried deep in your pretty pussy.
his eyes switching every few seconds from your eyes to your pussy, watching himself slide in and out of you, the low light shining on the wetness on his dick.
the first time he found himself fucking you, he was irritated, thinking this was your way of getting out of paying, but the realization set in quickly once he put the blunt between his lips, and the only thing he could think of was you.
"come sit on my dick; you don't have to worry about paying anymore." he was fucking addicted but would never admit it.
teasing you every time you would drop by, knowing that you would be leaving his house with more than what you wanted and without spending a penny.
finding yourself on his dick, frantically going up and down. his hand gripping your ass and rubbing over your sides, your head dropping to your shoulder and his lips kissing your neck.
"keep fucking me like this, and i'll get you..." losing his breath, restraining himself from closing his eyes so he could keep looking at you, your eyes always looked so pretty; how could he resist?
"bye, fucker." stuffing the things in your pocket, eren flopping down on the couch, sliding his hand back down his pants.
a bit of disappointment settling in his stomach at your words, but a smirk playing on his lips when he knows you'll be back.
"yeah... bye."
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manswithaplans · 3 days ago
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Not sure if anyone else has added this on, but Tesla's locking during fires is actually pretty common! There IS a manual door open, but for whatever reason, many Tesla owners are unaware of it, though it's likely because the ones in the front are small and encouraged only to be used in emergencies (ie, likely not advertised well), the ones in the back are INACCESSIBLE UNTIL YOU TAKE APART THE DOOR.
Here's the Model Y and X front door no power, manual door latch.
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Small, but accessible, if you know about it.
Here's the ones for the back doors.
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In the model Y, (NOTICE THE NOTE WHICH STATES NOT ALL MODEL Y VEHICLES HAVE MANUAL RELEASES) it's hidden behind a small door. In the Model X, you have to remove a SPEAKER GRILL, which I can only assume would take a tool or at least the time to PRY IT OFF. Both of these are unacceptable and dangerous. They are not easily seen, and in the case of the back, require removal of other parts to get to. Emergency situations, especially ones that involve fire, require heavy labeling and ease of use. People are panicking, they probably won't think about a special little latch or to pry a piece of the door off. Why do you think just about every building in the US has labeled fire exits?
Here are some examples of what happens when you don't know about these tiny, inaccessible little latches:
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Hey how come the truck automatically locks when it explodes and bursts into flames
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luckyladylily · 15 hours ago
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So like, transandrophobia.
To start this out, I am a trans woman, been around in the queer community for a while. I'm also bisexuality, polyamorous, disabled, and aromantic, and I think these other parts of my identity and the crap I've caught over the years for them heavily informs how I analyze something like transandrophobia. My wife is also asexual, so that plays a part in it too.
So every group of marginalized people has their own unique experiences and problems. It's more of a rule than something we've mathematically demonstrated, but as far as these things go it's ridiculously well established, and personally every time I've done even a basic dive into the issues faced by a marginalized group it's been self evident. I could easily list a dozen groups ranging from racial minorities to different kinds of disabled people to different queer identities and analyze their social issues but let's be real, this is pretty well established theory, anyone who needs me to do that is not really interacting with good faith. This is one of the big reasons we talk to people about their own experiences and groups, we cannot reasonably extrapolate the experiences of others from our own.
So like trans men and trans mascs and anyone else that falls under that umbrella has their unique experiences. The idea that we would even question this is weird to me? Like I can't even imagine the kind of evidence someone would need to present to me to change my mind, and given the pattern of the queer community to be shitty in exactly this way to people in our community, yeah that is not happening.
Therefore, we are taking it for granted that the trans men/masc/related umbrella has their own things going on like everyone else ever, and I don't understand how someone acting in good faith can try to claim otherwise unless they are young or otherwise very inexperienced with such things.
The next point of contention seems to be the name, and I gotta be real I don't care and I don't understand why other people do. I've read all sorts of arguments against the word transandrophobia and the majority of them seem to be rooted in a misunderstanding of intersectionality, and even then it's like there is such a thing where people get so mired in theory that they miss the forest for the trees.
Perhaps more important to me, getting overly worked up about something as unimportant as the precise term is... weird. Like exclusionists hating on bi and ace people weird. I remember what it was like a decade ago when exclusionists were trying to police the words of bi women, and five years ago when ace and aro people were under constant attack under the pretense that our language was harmful for some reason or other. You are going to have to work very, very, very hard to convince me that any bickering over language as it relates to transandrophobia is not just more of the same.
Next, "transandrobros hate trans femmes" and similar stuff. I've seen the callout posts and found them completely unconvincing. Again, they read a lot like the old "ace people hate lesbians!" posts I used to see. I'm not convinced that the individuals involved were a problem, I am certainly not able to extrapolate a problem to the rest of the group.
Finally, there is this idea that "maleness is not a vector for oppression" and this invalidates something about the whole transandrophobia thing, ranging from the entire concept of trans men experiencing prejudice to something about language being imprecise all the way to "This is fascist shit, omg these people are basically nazis" depending on who says it. I'm not going to touch any of that and just look at the underlying logic.
This is based off a misunderstanding of intersectionality theory. Many people think of intersectionality as defining intersecting prejudice, like a ven diagram, such that transmisogyny is the intersection of transphobia and misogyny. This is incorrect. Intersectionality defines unique prejudice experienced by people with intersecting identities. Instead of a transmisogyny as the overlap of transphobia and misogyny, imagine adding a third circle that overlaps both but also has its own areas covered by neither.
Applied to transandrophobia, even if we assume maleness is not a vector for oppression, there is no reason to assume that the intersection of maleness with a marginalized identity doesn't result in new issues. Imagine that 3 circle venn diagram that represents misogyny, transphobia, and transmisogyny. Even if you remove the misogyny circle there is still plenty of ground covered by the transmisogyny circle.
This just isn't a valid criticism. It is a pure theory approach based on a flawed reading of theory.
So in summary:
Everyone has their unique shit going on and I've seen no convincing evidence that trans men, mascs, etc. Are the exception.
I not seen any convincing argument that the word itself is bad.
I've not seen any convincing evidence that there is some epidemic of transandrophobia truthers hating and harassing trans femmes on scales higher than normal background queer infighting.
The most coherent objection to transandrophobia I've seen is categorically incorrect and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of intersectionality theory.
I would like to remind everyone at this point I am a trans woman, part of the group that is supposedly a problem for and I've just not see it at all, to the point where it is kind of weird how intensely some people are pushing this.
I'm not trying to be mean or whatever, I'm sure the distress on display here comes from a real place and real trauma, but I've yet to see anything that makes me think there is substance to the objections to transandrophobia as a concept. It feels and reads like the latest round of queer intracommunity exclusionism, and the fact that this time around I'm not one of the target identities doesn't change that for me.
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gyaruhana · 12 hours ago
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Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games
Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you
Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.
A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..
Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh
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You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.
Until today that is. 
You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 
Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.
Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.
By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 
The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 
The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.
The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.
“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 
With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 
As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 
As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 
Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.
He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.
“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.
You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.
“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 
“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.
Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 
He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 
With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 
He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.
You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 
His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 
“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 
“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 
He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.
The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.
The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.
"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.
He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.
“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.
“I know,”
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astudyinimagination · 3 days ago
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You know what, don't just leave that there. Maybe, instead acting in deliberate bad faith, link the article: https://www.avclub.com/steven-moffat-condemns-ai
Heck, actually, I'm a bit miffed at the AV Club because the half of the subhead is not properly attributed. So I'm just gonna copy-paste the whole thing here because it's short. But before I do that, I'm going to say that, as an actual fangirl of Moffat, I forever have to contend with two things: 1. That he always does a lot of verbal vomit when he gives interviews. To be fair, I'm not sure that I would do that much better in his shoes. 2. That he has a certain sardonic wit that has always translated very poorly in written interviews, wherein writers almost never bother to try to convey his tone. He comes across much better when you can actually hear him speak, and in full context (something that's also rare in written interviews).
Full text of the article below (which includes a link to the origin of the interview, the Radio Times), with commentary from me:
Don’t worry, Whovians—it seems like the Doctor isn’t about to regenerate into a bastardized AI version of himself any time soon. Doctor Who writers Steven Moffat and Russell T Davies recently took on the topic of generative AI in a conversation with Radio Times, and while the former acknowledged that the technology is “fascinating,” he also derided it in the most “Doctor Who writer” verbiage possible. “My son explained it to me. He said, ‘Yes, it can do all these things. It might even get quite good at them. But it takes an immense amount of power to run AI.’ Whereas you can run a human being on sunlight and a vegetable patch,” Moffat said. [See, the first half of the subhead, or article subtitle, is Moffat's son speaking, but the subhead doesn't acknowledge that, which is extremely shoddy journalism on their part.] “Human beings are amazingly cheap, we’re knocking out human beings every day.” Definitely spoken like someone who spends his days writing about anything but. [Definitely spoken like someone with a very sardonic sense of humor, which apparently this writer can't grasp. By the way, the commentary in the article means that it's editorial rather than news, in case you were wondering.]
Still, Moffat does know his human patterns. “Unlike anything else in history, the more we use it, the less good it is,” he continued. “Because the more content that is out there produced by AI, the more it absorbs its own content, and eats its own tail.”
That’s a very astute—and upsetting—prediction, but Moffat and Davies aren’t all doom and gloom. After Davies got a quip in about how “television has run on those principals (absorbing its own content) for a very long time,” Moffat continued: “That’s true, but we occasionally have a new idea. I admit, it doesn’t happen very often, certainly not in my case, but occasionally I have a new idea. But [AI] will never have a new idea. That’s not what it does.”
Davies, for one, doesn’t think the two of them will be replaced any time soon. He’s also far more optimistic about the state of television than some recent reports suggest he maybe should be. The overall number of shows on the air may be steadily decreasing, but the showrunner thinks “the rate of new ideas on television is higher than we ever allow for.” “We always tend to think that things bumble along at a very average level, and the great outliers are here and there,” he continued. “And every month, or every two months—actually, every day, I could find you something brilliant on TV.” [I love his positivity here; it's very Doctorish.]
Hopefully, Doctor Who‘s upcoming Christmas special, titled “Joy To The World,” will be one of those brilliant things. The episode will feature Nicola Coughlan and see the Doctor (Ncuti Gatwa) check into a “time hotel” that allows him to visit every Christmas Day in history. You can watch that adventure on our present Christmas Day, even if you can’t travel back in time.
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I’m just going to leave this here
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