#first time experimenting with a read more

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

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Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️

Chapter 19: New Boundaries

The morning sun streaming through the guesthouse windows found eight bodies sprawled across your bed in various states of peaceful exhaustion. What had started as a reconciliation cuddle pile had evolved into an impromptu sleepover, with limbs tangled together in a way that defied physics and personal space boundaries.

You woke slowly, consciousness returning gradually as you registered the warm weight of Yunho's arm across your waist, the solid presence of Seonghwa's chest against your back, and what you were fairly certain was Wooyoung's foot somehow pressed against your shoulder.

"Morning, Tulip," came Hongjoong's soft voice from somewhere near your feet, where he'd apparently claimed a small corner of the bed.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself looking directly into Mingi's face, his dark eyes already alert and watching you with that same protective intensity from the night before. His arm was wrapped securely around your middle, as if even in sleep he'd been afraid you might disappear.

"How did you sleep?" he asked quietly, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Better than I have in weeks," you admitted, and it was true. Despite the emotional chaos of the previous evening, sleeping surrounded by your pack felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A gentle stirring around you indicated the others were beginning to wake up as well. San made a soft grumbling sound as he shifted against Jongho's shoulder, while Yeosang carefully extracted himself from what appeared to be a pretzel-like position with Wooyoung.

"My arm is completely numb," Wooyoung announced cheerfully, sitting up and shaking out his left arm with exaggerated movements. "But it was totally worth it for the pack bonding experience."

"You volunteered to sleep at the foot of the bed," Yunho pointed out with amusement, stretching carefully so as not to disturb you.

"I was being chivalrous," Wooyoung defended. "Making sure everyone had room. Very selfless of me."

"Very something," Yeosang muttered, though his tone was fond.

As everyone slowly untangled themselves and the bed began to return to normal proportions, you noticed something different about how your body felt. The heat symptoms that had been building steadily for days—the restless energy, the heightened sensitivity, the way your omega had been responding to your alphas' presence—all of it felt muted, manageable.

You sat up slowly, taking inventory. The urgency was still there, but it felt... controlled somehow.

"Is everything alright?" Seonghwa asked, immediately noticing your contemplative expression with that uncanny ability he had to read your moods.

"I feel... different," you said slowly, trying to identify what had changed. "Better."

Before anyone could respond, there was a knock at the guesthouse door. Hongjoong frowned, checking his phone.

"That's probably Dr. Kim," he said, looking slightly sheepish. "I... may have called her early this morning. After everything that happened last night, with your heat symptoms and the stress..."

"You called our doctor?" you asked, though you weren't upset—more curious than anything.

"I was worried," Hongjoong admitted. "About how the emotional trauma might affect your cycle, about whether we needed to do something to help you through it safely."

You frowned slightly, ready to make a comment about how this was exactly what had happened yesterday when everything went crazy—decisions being made for you without your input. But before the words could form, you felt a soft kiss pressed to your neck.

Yunho’s lips lingered there for a moment before he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “He’s trying,” Yunho said quietly, his voice gentle but carrying the weight of understanding. “He’s still head alpha, baby steps.”

The tender gesture and his words made you pause, the fight draining out of you as quickly as it had risen. You looked at Hongjoong’s worried face, saw the genuine concern there rather than the controlling energy from the night before. 

Yunho was right-Hongjoong was trying to find the balance between protecting you and respecting your autonomy. And if you were going to be part of this pack, you had to accept that sometimes the head alpha would make decisions he felt were necessary for everyone's wellbeing, including yours.

You let out a soft breath, your shoulders relaxing. “Okay,” you said simply, and watched relief flood Hongjoong’s features.

Dr. Kim's voice called from outside. "It's Dr. Kim. May I come in?"

"Please," you called back, and the door opened to admit a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and a professional demeanor that immediately put you at ease.

"Good morning," she said, taking in the scene of eight alphas and one omega in various states of post-cuddle-pile dishevelment with practiced calm. "I brought a few things that might help stabilize your cycle while you all work through these new mate bonds."

She set her medical bag on the small table and pulled out what looked like a small patch, similar to your scent blockers.

"It's a hormone regulator," she explained, seeing your curious expression. "Designed specifically for newly mated omegas who are dealing with cycle disruptions due to stress or multiple alpha bonds. It won't stop your heat entirely, but it will slow it down and make it more manageable until your body adjusts to the pack dynamics."

"Is that what I'm feeling?" you asked. "The difference from yesterday?"

Dr. Kim looked confused for a moment, then understanding dawned on her face. "Ah. You're probably responding to their combined scents even through your blocker. Eight mated alphas in close proximity can have a naturally stabilizing effect on an omega's cycle. Your body is recognizing the pack bond and adjusting accordingly."

"So the cuddle pile actually helped?" Wooyoung asked with delight.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Dr. Kim said with a small smile. "Extended contact with bonded alphas can help regulate omega hormones. Though I'd still recommend the patch for additional stability while you all learn to navigate these new dynamics."

She turned to you. "It's completely optional, and it's temporary—maybe a few weeks while you establish better pack communication and trust. Think of it as training wheels for your omega biology."

You looked around at the faces of your mates, all clearly concerned for your wellbeing and comfort. "What do you think?" you asked them.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Hongjoong said immediately. "It's your choice entirely."

"It might give us time to figure things out without the pressure of a full heat cycle," Seonghwa added thoughtfully.

"I think I'd like that," you decided. "Time to build trust and work on our relationships without biology overwhelming everything."

Dr. Kim nodded approvingly and handed you the patch. "Apply it like your scent blocker. It should help keep things stable for the next few weeks. And don't hesitate to call if you have any concerns or side effects."

"So it's our fault," Hongjoong said quietly, his voice heavy with self-recrimination.

"It's nobody's fault," you said firmly, turning to face him. "It's just biology responding to circumstances. And honestly? It might be a good thing. It gives us time to figure things out properly instead of being driven by heat hormones."

Seonghwa nodded thoughtfully. "A chance to establish better dynamics before dealing with that level of biological intensity."

"Exactly," you agreed. "We can build trust and work through our issues without the added pressure of heat cycles and rut responses."

Wooyoung, who had been unusually quiet during this exchange, suddenly perked up. "Does this mean we get to do normal couple things? Like dates? I've been planning dates!"

"You've been planning dates?" San asked with amusement.

"SO many dates," Wooyoung confirmed enthusiastically. "I have a whole list. Museum visits, restaurant tours, that new amusement park... I was just waiting for the right time to suggest them."

"We should probably start with something simpler," you said with a laugh, charmed by his enthusiasm. "Like figuring out how to live together without anyone threatening to leave or calling anyone crazy."

The reminder of the previous night's fight brought a more serious mood back to the room.

"Speaking of which," Hongjoong said, his leader voice reasserting itself, "we need to talk about practical things. Your work situation, living arrangements, how we handle the pack dynamics going forward."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you knew would be a complex conversation. "I've been thinking about that. I don't want to give up working entirely, but I understand there are safety concerns and... complications."

"What are you thinking?" Seonghwa asked gently.

"Maybe a compromise," you said, looking around at all of them. "I could transition to a consulting role—helping with schedule coordination and management for ATEEZ specifically, but not being on-site for everything. I could work from home most of the time, join you for important events, but not be constantly in situations where I'm vulnerable to outside alphas."

Hongjoong's expression showed he was carefully considering your proposal. "That could work. You'd still be using your skills and maintaining your independence, but with more control over your environment."

"And," you added pointedly, "it would be my choice. My decision about how much and when to work."

"Of course," Hongjoong said immediately. "Completely your choice."

The quick agreement and the respectful tone made you relax slightly. Maybe the events of last night had actually created an opportunity for better communication.

"What about living arrangements?" Jongho asked practically. "Are you comfortable staying in the guesthouse long-term?"

You hesitated, looking around at the faces of your pack. The question touched on something you'd been thinking about but hadn't been sure how to bring up.

"Actually," you said slowly, "I've been wondering... maybe after we've had some time to adjust to everything, to make sure we can all live together without major conflicts..." You took a breath, gathering courage. "Maybe I could move into the main house? With all of you?"

Eight pairs of eyes fixed on you with varying degrees of surprise and hope.

"And then," you continued, the words coming faster now, "I could convert the bedroom in the guesthouse into a proper office space. I already have the office in the main house, but having a separate workspace where I could take calls and focus without worrying about disturbing anyone might be useful."

"You want to live with us?" Wooyoung asked, his voice pitched higher with excitement. "In the main house? Like, actually live live with us?"

"Only if you want to," Mingi added quickly, clearly still worried about overstepping boundaries. "We don't want to pressure you into anything."

You looked around at the seven faces surrounding you, each showing genuine concern for your comfort and autonomy mixed with barely contained hope. It was such a stark contrast to the controlling energy from the night before.

"I'd like that," you said softly. "Eventually. Having my own space when I need it, but being close to all of you most of the time."

"We could design it together," Wooyoung said excitedly. "Make it perfect for you. Good lighting, comfortable furniture, maybe a little mini-fridge for snacks..."

"A mini-fridge?" you repeated with amusement.

"Very important," Wooyoung said seriously. "Can't have our omega getting hungry while she's working. That's just poor pack management."

"Our omega," Yeosang repeated thoughtfully. "We should probably talk about that too. What it means, how we navigate the dynamics."

"What do you mean?" you asked, though you suspected you knew where this was heading.

"Eight alphas, one omega," Yeosang explained in his analytical way. "Traditional pack structures don't really account for this situation. We need to figure out our own rules."

"Like what?" San asked.

"Like how we handle jealousy," Yeosang said bluntly. "Because it's going to happen. When one of us is spending individual time with Y/n, when she chooses to confide in one person over another, when the mate bonds feel stronger with some than others at different times."

The honesty of his statement created a moment of uncomfortable silence as everyone considered the implications.

"I don't want any of you to feel like you have to compete for my attention," you said softly. "Or like there's some hierarchy of who I love more."

"But there might be," Jongho pointed out with surprising wisdom for the youngest. "Different relationships, different dynamics. That's normal, isn't it?"

"It is," Seonghwa agreed. "The important thing is that everyone feels valued and secure in their bond with you, even if those bonds are different from each other."

"So maybe," Hongjoong said slowly, "we need to be more intentional about individual time. Making sure everyone gets one-on-one moments with Y/n, not just group activities."

"I'd like that," you said immediately. "I want to know each of you better individually, not just as part of the pack."

"See?" Wooyoung said triumphantly. "This is why I had date plans! I was thinking ahead!"

"Your date plans are probably all elaborate productions," Yunho said with fond exasperation. "Some of us might prefer quiet time."

"Hey!" Wooyoung protested. "I have quiet date ideas too! Very romantic, very low-key... well, relatively low-key..."

"Define 'relatively,'" Yeosang said suspiciously.

"Okay, so maybe I had thoughts about hiring a string quartet for a picnic, but that's totally reasonable romantic gesture!"

The laughter that followed Wooyoung's indignant defense helped lighten the mood considerably. This was good—they were talking through practical issues while maintaining the emotional connection that made them feel like a family.

"I have an idea," you said once the laughter died down. "What if we start small? One-on-one time doesn't have to be formal dates. It could be cooking together, or watching a movie, or just talking. Low pressure, but intentional."

"I love that," Seonghwa said immediately. "It gives us all a chance to develop our individual relationships without the pressure of grand gestures."

"Though grand gestures are still allowed," Wooyoung added hopefully. "For those of us who might be naturally inclined toward grand gestures."

"Grand gestures are allowed," you confirmed with a smile. "As long as they're thoughtful and not overwhelming."

"Speaking of overwhelming," Mingi said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "what do we do about the territorial instincts? Because they're not going away just because we're having a reasonable conversation about them."

It was a fair point. The rational discussion was helpful, but it didn't change the fundamental alpha nature that had caused problems the night before.

"Maybe we acknowledge when it's happening," San suggested. "Instead of pretending the instincts don't exist, we can recognize them and choose how to respond."

"Like when I wanted to break down your door last night," Mingi continued, looking directly at you. "My alpha was convinced you were in danger, that you needed immediate rescue. Logically, I knew you were safe with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, but instinctively..."

"You needed to protect your mate," you finished understanding. "That's not necessarily a bad thing, as long as it doesn't override my autonomy."

"Exactly," Hongjoong said, and you could see him working through the concept. "The protective instincts aren't the problem. It's when they turn into controlling behavior."

"So maybe," Yeosang suggested, "when someone's alpha is getting possessive or territorial, they can communicate that to the pack. 'My alpha is struggling with this situation' instead of just acting on the instincts."

"And then the pack can help," Yunho added. "Either by adjusting the situation or by helping that alpha work through the feelings."

You found yourself nodding as you listened to them problem-solve together. This felt so different from the previous night's chaos—collaborative instead of combative, thoughtful instead of reactive.

"I have a confession," you said, looking around at all of them. "My omega has instincts too. Protective ones, nurturing ones, possessive ones. Last night when I went to Mingi during his rut, that wasn't entirely rational decision-making either."

"You were responding to your mate's distress," Seonghwa said with understanding. "That's natural."

"But it was also dangerous," you continued. "If we're going to acknowledge your alpha instincts, we should acknowledge mine too. Sometimes I might need the pack to help me make safer choices."

"As long as it's help and not control," Hongjoong said carefully.

"As long as it's help and not control," you agreed, meeting his eyes directly.

The morning conversation was interrupted by a loud growling sound that seemed to echo through the entire room. Eight pairs of eyes turned toward Jongho, who looked down at his stomach with betrayal.

"Was that you?" Wooyoung asked in amazement. "That sounded like a small earthquake."

"I'm hungry," Jongho said defensively, his cheeks flushing slightly. "We've been talking for hours, and I didn't eat much last night because of all the drama."

Looking around, you realized that several of them looked tired and rumpled, and you were all still wearing yesterday's clothes. The emotional intensity of the previous night had overshadowed basic needs like food and hygiene.

"Okay," you said, shifting into practical mode. "New plan. Everyone goes home to shower and change clothes. Then we reconvene for a proper breakfast where we can continue this conversation like civilized people instead of an exhausted cuddle pile."

"I like the exhausted cuddle pile," Wooyoung protested, even as he began extracting himself from the bed.

"The exhausted cuddle pile will return," you assured him. "But first, food and basic human maintenance."

As everyone began the process of untangling themselves and preparing to head back to the main house, Hongjoong lingered beside your bed. The others gradually filtered out, some stopping to press gentle kisses to your cheek or squeeze your hand, until it was just the two of you.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?"

"For giving me another chance. For not giving up on us." His voice was soft, vulnerable in a way you rarely heard from their confident leader. "I know I have work to do, proving that I can be better."

"We all have work to do," you corrected gently. "This is new for everyone. We're going to make mistakes."

"I made big ones."

"Yes," you agreed honestly. "But you're here, trying to fix them. That matters."

Hongjoong reached out slowly, giving you time to pull away, before cupping your face gently in his hands. "I love you," he said simply. "Not your biology, not your omega nature, not what you can do for the pack. You. Your mind, your strength, your terrible sense of humor, everything that makes you who you are."

The words, delivered with such sincere conviction, made your chest tight with emotion. "I love you too," you whispered back. "All of you. Even when you're being impossible."

His answering smile was soft and relieved and full of hope for the future they were building together.

"Now go shower," you said, pushing gently at his chest. "You smell like eight alphas who slept in a pile."

"I smell like pack," Hongjoong corrected with a grin. "Like home."

"You smell like you need soap," you countered, but you were smiling as you said it.

As Hongjoong finally headed for the door, he paused at the threshold. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for staying."

After he left, you remained in bed for a few more minutes, processing everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. The emotional whiplash of the fight, the fear of losing everything, Wooyoung's intervention, the reconciliation, and now this morning's productive conversation about building a healthier dynamic.

Your hand drifted to your neck, where there were no claiming marks yet, but where you could imagine them someday. The mate bonds hummed contentedly in your chest, no longer strained by conflict and uncertainty.

Your heat cycle might be delayed, but maybe that was exactly what you all needed. Time to build something solid and healthy before biology demanded vulnerability and surrender.

Time to fall in love with each other, hopefully. 

With that thought warming your chest, you finally dragged yourself out of bed to start the day. There was a pack to feed, relationships to nurture, and a future to build.

And for the first time since the mate bonds had revealed themselves, you felt genuinely excited about all of it.

---

An hour later, you emerged from your own shower feeling refreshed and more human, dressed in comfortable clothes and ready to tackle the promised breakfast. The main house was buzzing with activity when you entered through the back door, the sounds of multiple conversations and what smelled like an impressive cooking operation already underway.

You found Seonghwa in the kitchen, as expected, but he wasn't alone. Yunho was stationed at the stove flipping what appeared to be an enormous batch of pancakes, while San worked on cutting fresh fruit with the focused precision of someone taking their task very seriously.

"Good morning," you said, accepting the cup of coffee that Seonghwa handed you before you'd even fully entered the kitchen. He knew you too well.

"Perfect timing," San said, looking up from his fruit arrangement with a bright smile. "We're just finishing up the feast."

"Feast might be an understatement," you observed, taking in the sheer volume of food covering every available surface. "Are you feeding a small army?"

"Eight hungry alphas and one omega who missed dinner last night due to emotional trauma," Yunho said matter-of-factly, sliding another perfectly golden pancake onto the growing stack. "So yes, basically an army."

"Where is everyone else?" you asked, settling onto one of the kitchen stools to stay out of the way while still being part of the organized chaos.

"Wooyoung is setting the table," Seonghwa replied, stirring something that smelled amazing in a large pot. "Jongho went for a quick workout because apparently emotional reconciliation makes him restless. Mingi is showering, and Hongjoong is taking calls with Manager Minwoo about rearranging today's schedule."

"And Yeosang?" you asked, suddenly realizing you hadn't seen him since the morning conversation.

"Reading room," San said without looking up from his fruit artistry. "He said something about needing to process everything quietly before facing group breakfast dynamics."

That made sense. Yeosang had always been the most introverted of the group, the one who needed solitude to work through complex emotions and situations. The morning's heavy conversation about pack dynamics and relationship structures had probably been a lot for him to absorb.

"I think I'll go check on him," you said, sliding off the stool.

"Good idea," Seonghwa said with approval. "He's been quieter than usual since everything happened. He could probably use some individual attention."

You made your way through the house to what the members had dubbed the 'reading room'—a cozy space with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, comfortable chairs, and excellent natural light. It had become Yeosang's unofficial retreat when he needed space to think.

You found him curled up in the large armchair by the window, a book open in his lap but his eyes focused on something far beyond the garden outside. He looked up when you entered, a small smile crossing his features.

"Hey," you said softly, settling into the chair across from him. "How are you doing with everything?"

Yeosang was quiet for a moment, closing his book and setting it aside before really looking at you. "It's a lot," he said finally, his voice carrying that thoughtful quality that was so distinctly him. "All of it. The mate bonds, the pack dynamics, what happened last night."

"Too much?" you asked gently.

"Not too much," he clarified quickly. "Just... complex. I keep thinking about what you said this morning, about how we'll all have different relationships with you, different dynamics."

You nodded, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

"I've been trying to figure out what mine is," he continued, his analytical mind clearly working through the problem. "Wooyoung is obvious—dramatic, playful, emotional. Mingi is protective and intense. Seonghwa is nurturing. But me..." He trailed off, looking uncertain.

"You're thoughtful," you said softly. "Observant. You see things others miss."

"But what does that mean for us?" he asked, and you could hear the vulnerability beneath his usual composed exterior. "What does that relationship look like?"

It was such a Yeosang question—wanting to understand, to analyze, to find his place in the complex web of relationships that was forming around you.

"I don't know yet," you admitted honestly. "But I'd like to find out. We haven't really had much time alone together, just us."

"Would you like to?" he asked, and there was something almost shy in the way he said it. "Have time alone together, I mean."

"I would love that," you replied immediately. "What would you want to do?"

Yeosang's face lit up slightly, as if he'd been hoping you'd ask. "Actually, I had an idea. But it might be... different. Not like what the others might plan."

"Different how?" you asked, curious.

"There's a bookstore I love," he said, his words coming more quickly now as his enthusiasm took over. "It's small, quiet, tucked away in this old building downtown. They have rare books, first editions, things you can't find anywhere else. And upstairs, they have this tiny café that serves the most amazing tea."

The idea of exploring a hidden bookstore with Yeosang, of seeing him in his element surrounded by books and quiet spaces, sent a warm flutter through your chest.

"That sounds perfect," you said sincerely. "When can we go?"

"Really?" Yeosang's eyes brightened considerably. "You don't think it sounds boring compared to whatever elaborate adventure Wooyoung is probably planning?"

"Yeosang," you said firmly, leaning forward in your chair, "spending quiet time with you, learning about something you're passionate about, exploring a place that's special to you—that sounds like exactly the kind of individual time we were talking about this morning."

The relief and happiness that crossed his features was almost painful in its intensity, as if he'd been genuinely worried that his idea of a perfect date would be inadequate compared to the others.

"We could go this afternoon," he suggested. "If you want. After breakfast and after everything settles down from this morning."

"I'd love that," you assured him. "But only if you promise to show me your favorite sections and tell me about the books you love."

"I can do that," Yeosang said, his smile soft and genuine. "I have a lot of books I'd love to share with you."

There was something in the way he said it that made you realize this wasn't just about books. This was Yeosang offering to share a piece of himself, to let you into his inner world in a way that felt significant and precious.

"Yeosang," you said gently, "can I ask you something?"

He nodded.

"How are you feeling about the pack bonds? About us? I know this morning was a lot of heavy conversation, and you've been quieter than usual."

Yeosang was silent for a long moment, his fingers absently tracing the spine of the book in his lap. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and thoughtful.

"I've been thinking about how different we all are," he said. "And how that might actually be good for you. For us as a pack."

"What do you mean?"

"Wooyoung brings joy and lightness when things get too serious. Mingi brings protection and strength when you need to feel safe. Seonghwa brings comfort and care when you need nurturing." He paused, looking directly at you. "I bring... quiet. Understanding. Someone to listen when you need to process things without judgment or solutions."

The self-awareness in his words, the way he'd clearly been thinking deeply about his role in your life, made your chest tight with affection.

"That's not a small thing," you said softly. "That's huge. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who can just... listen? Without trying to fix or change or improve?"

"Is it?" he asked, and you could hear the genuine uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeosang," you said, getting up from your chair and moving to kneel beside his, taking his hands in yours. "Last night, when everything was falling apart, when I was overwhelmed and hurt and angry, what I needed most was exactly what you offered. Someone who saw what was happening, who understood the complexity without trying to simplify it."

His eyes met yours, searching for sincerity and finding it.

"You told me that whatever was happening between us didn't need to be figured out immediately," you continued. "That it was okay to acknowledge it existed and let it develop naturally. That kind of wisdom, that patience—that's not something everyone has."

"You really think that's valuable?" he asked quietly.

"I think it's essential," you replied firmly. "I think you're essential."

The way his face softened at your words, the way his shoulders relaxed as if he'd been carrying tension he didn't even realize he had, made you want to wrap him in your arms and never let go.

"I love your mind," you continued, the words flowing freely now. "I love how you think through problems, how you see patterns and connections that others miss. I love that you read philosophy and poetry and come away with insights that make me see the world differently."

"I love how you listen," you added, your voice growing softer. "Really listen. Not just waiting for your turn to talk, but actually hearing what people are saying, understanding what they mean even when they can't articulate it properly."

Yeosang's hands tightened around yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

"And I love that you don't try to be someone you're not to fit some idea of what an alpha should be," you finished. "You're quiet and thoughtful and gentle, and that's perfect. That's exactly what I need."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then Yeosang leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours in a gesture so tender it made your breath catch.

"I was worried," he admitted quietly, "that being quieter, less dramatic than the others, might make me... forgettable."

"Never," you said firmly. "You could never be forgettable."

"I love you," he said suddenly, the words soft but clear. "I've been wanting to say it, but I wasn't sure... the others are so much more obvious about their feelings."

"I love you too," you replied immediately, lifting one hand to cup his cheek. "I love your quiet strength and your beautiful mind and the way you make me feel understood."

The kiss that followed was soft and sweet and full of promise. When you broke apart, Yeosang's eyes held a peace that hadn't been there when you'd first entered the room.

From the kitchen came the sound of Wooyoung calling that breakfast was ready, but for just a few more minutes, you were content to sit in the quiet reading room with Yeosang, talking about books and plans and the unique space he occupied in your heart.

"We should probably go join the others," Yeosang said eventually, though he didn't sound entirely eager to leave their peaceful bubble.

"Probably," you agreed, but you made no move to get up. "Five more minutes?"

"Five more minutes," he confirmed, settling back into his chair with a contented smile.

You climbed in his lap, needing to be close to him. 

Yeosang's arms came around you almost tentatively as you eased onto his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs. His eyes widened for just a moment—surprise, awe, a flicker of nerves—but all of it softened to something infinitely gentle as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

At first, the kiss was feather-light: a delicate brush, a question. You could feel him relax beneath you, his hands coming to rest at your hips, thumbs drawing soothing circles through your shirt. You lingered there; noses brushing, breath mingling, savoring the sweetness of feeling so safe in the silence you both cherished.

But need crept in the longer you kissed him. Your heat symptoms still present, just quieter.  With each pass of your mouth over his—a little less hesitant, a little more present—something inside you coiled and snapped taut. You felt his breath stutter as your hands moved, one slipping into his hair, the other stroking along the line of his jaw. Yeosang made a soft sound deep in his throat, and the vibration of it sent heat flaring through your body.

He welcomed your growing urgency, his own responses turning more earnest. His grip at your hips grew firmer, bringing you closer, molding your body to his. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, and a thrill ran through you at how much he wanted you.

You deepened the kiss—open, searching, greedy for more of him. Yeosang’s hands splayed wide, tracing up your back, holding you steady, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you. He kissed you back with increasing hunger: still gentle, still reverent, but with the sharp edge of longing you’d never quite seen from him before.

Your own restraint faltered; you nipped at his lower lip, swallowed the gasp he gave you, pressed closer so that his legs bracketed your hips. The need to feel more, to have more, overwhelmed the patience you’d started with.

You broke the kiss only for a breath, whispering his name with trembling lips, looking into his eyes to find them shimmering—dazed and wholly focused on you.

“Is this okay?” you asked, voice shaky but sure.

He nodded, his forehead tipping to rest against yours. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice rougher than you’d ever heard. “Whatever you want.”

You kissed him again, slow exploding into urgent, your hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer, anchoring yourself in the warmth and want of him. He shifted beneath you, welcoming you in, his hands mapping your back, your sides, craving every inch he could reach.

Time faded away—there was only Yeosang and your shared hunger, the soft noises of lips and breath, and the desperate way you both clung to each other as if the world outside your quiet room had vanished entirely.

And for the moment, it had.

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[theballadofthesunandthestars]

Hello! I'm an aroace lesbian, here's my thoughts on the soulmate trope! I'll be talking about real life too, but I promise it all relates back to ship tropes and fanfic. And sorry it's kinda ramble-y!

So, I am not really a fan of the idea that each person has only one soulmate, and I especially hate the idea that soulmates are purely romantic. But I actually do believe in soulmates! I believe that each person has multiple soulmates, but soulmates are not necessarily a romantic partner that you're destined to be with. I believe that there are people that are meant to be in our lives one way or another, sometimes forever and sometimes temporarily. I think that soulmates can be not just romantic, but platonic and familial as well. All soulmates are just people that you are meant to have in your life.

A big aspect of this belief is that I don't see love between friends as lesser than love between romantic partners. I absolutely despise the phrasing "more than friends" when talking about romantic relationships, because friendships are just as nuanced, wonderful, and powerful as romances. And maybe that's just because I don't experience romantic attraction, but I don't think that's why. I know straight girls who have boyfriends, yet they share this deeply intimate connection that goes almost deeper than the feelings they have for their romantic partners. There's nothing romantic or sexual about their relationship; they just love each other deeply, and cannot imagine life without each other. In my mind, they're soulmates. They're meant to be in each other's lives, and they're linked to each other. In a romantic sense, we all have multiple people in the world that we could be romantic soulmates with. You can lose a soulmate due to bad timing or the relationship not working out, and there's still someone out there in the world for you if you want them. Some people dedicate themselves to one soulmate. Others have multiple throughout their lives. But one lifestyle is not above the other.

I've read one soulmate AU fic that I kind of liked. It was one where soulmates could feel each other's pain, and it was incredibly well-written. But there was one plot point I adored where it's revealed that one of the main couples in the story are actually not soulmates; both of them have different soulmates that they met, but realized that they were terrible with their soulmates romantically, and so while they keep in touch with their soulmates, they ultimately fell in love with someone who was not their soulmate, and found just as much fulfillment in that. And I LOVED that plot point; it made me like that relationship so much more. There was also an aroace character in the fanfic who had a soulmate, but he didn't want to be with him romantically, and so he wasn't. And I loved that plot point too because it showed that aroace people aren't incapable of deep love and aren't missing out on anything when they don't feel romantic attraction. That fic was super good in other words.

And I also think that my belief on soulmates is what makes me a multi-shipper and makes me not understand ship discourse in the slightest. Because first of all; polyamory anyone? I think that you can totally love multiple people at the same time, and it doesn't take away from the love you experience with any one person. Secondly, since friendship is not below romance in my mind and is just as valuable, I can totally be chill with a ship that I like being platonic or romantic in a given fanfic or universe. It doesn't feel like a loss in the relationship in the slightest.

I get the appeal of a soulmate trope; the idea that there is someone out there destined to love you no matter your flaws and shortcomings? Love that! But I guess I hate the idea that's usually promoted that everyone only has one soulmate, and it's romantic. And on the rare occasions when those fics include an aroace character, that character just doesn't get a soulmate of any kind. And that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. So I generally don't read those fics, though I hope people never stop writing them because you should not let some weird fuck like me on the internet stop you from writing what you want!

I recommend this world view personally though because I was able to heal so much for it! I was so scared that I was broken, that I was missing out on a big part of life, but no. Like Chappell Roan said, love is a kaleidoscope; even with all the colors and shapes, it somehow all boils down to the same emotion. And my friends that do have romantic attraction, I think that believing platonic connections are not lesser than can really help with a lot of insecurities and anguish that come from dating and engaging in romantic relationships. Because you don't need them to experience true love, and so there's no pressure anymore! You can explore romance at your own pace and leisure. You can be unafraid to let people go that you need to, because there's someone else out there who'll love you just as much! It makes life so much more fulfilling in my opinion!

But as I said, I'm a weird fuck on the internet and you know your life better than I do. So if this doesn't work for you, feel free to say "oh no thanks!" and live the life that's best suited for you! You got this!

Whew. Sorry for the cheesiness

Curious, I haven’t really seen any real trend among aspec people and the ship tropes they do like, however I think I kinda seen a trend in what they dislike. So in the tags tell me if you’re aspec (ace and/or aro) and if you dislike soulmates, and I mean the most straightforward romantic non subverted kind (but if there are versions you like feel free to elaborate)

[stargirlygirl]

Hey, how you doin baby girl?😏

Soooo, since you are the master of writing realistic smut fics, I’m gonna leave this request queen.

Like u know how every vagina is different and stuff. I think people who struggle w having sex don’t get much representation (crying rn). I’m obviously not a virgin anymore but honestly my himen is so strong and my space inside is pretty small that even when I did it several times I still don’t feel much pleasure and it annoys me a lot, like I feel invaded and so annoyed (or it’s the men I slept with, idk). It also doesn’t help that I can’t feel relaxed.

So Caleb, Sylus, both, or which one you want (ik both of them are probably packed down there). With a reader that struggles w being relaxed and her body not helping either. The reader insisted they are not a virgin and they can get to the good part but oopps. So they/ he are/is already inside but it’s clear as day that reader feels more discomfort than pleasure and idk, either stopping and getting to a pretty good aftercare or just continuing w some good old oral and dope aftercare. Your choice.

Or not do this ask. I don’t mind. Just wanting to tell you that you are wonderful and beautiful 😽🫶 may you wake up w Caleb next to you, amen.

star girl's initial words: thank you so much, girlie for requesting!! i hope you like this one. i went with your idea as the context and then built on it (i hope that's okay).

you're not alone in your experience, and i can relate to how frustrating it must be that penetrative sex hasn't been an enjoyable experience for you. because we expect p-in-v to feel amazing, right? it's made out to be THE most sexually pleasurable experience, the ultimate end game, if you will. media (cough porn in any format cough) and a lack of awareness for women around penetration plays a big role in this.

from personal experiences (sorry if this is tmi just skip if it is), it's pretty ridiculous to expect penetrative sex to feel great when you've had no practise. i'm still a virgin (literally 19; i'm still baby) but like... yo ain't nothing of that size is going in there without weeks of coaxing.

AND, often when you (as a woman) don't enjoy penetrative sex, i feel like others make it out to be a problem. like there's something wrong with you, when there's nothing wrong at all. we're all different, and some of our bodies need to be accommodated for differently.

however, how much of this do i actually capture in the fic? it's debatable. but i hope i've captured enough so you feel some comfort when reading this.

you find sex painful

sylus x fem!reader

summary: based on nat's req, you're mid-sex with sylus when he finds out that penetration is painful for you. so, he tries his best to help with your pain.

contains: nsfw, smut, sexual touching (f!receiving), squirting (first time), swearing, fluff, sy buys dilators for you, 3.4k words

note: i've shifted the focus to sylus helping you, rather than how penetration is painful. this post is not meant to be prescriptive.

“Just put it in, Sy,” you whine, bucking your hips up to meet his.

Your boyfriend sighs, “Kitten.” He’s been trying to pump you with a second finger for the past ten minutes, but every time he slips it in, you squirm in pain. And now, you’re insisting that he just shove his huge cock in.

“Please, Sy. It’ll be fine, I promise,” you try to persuade him. Your hips are propped up on a pillow, dripping pussy glinting in the warm candlelight. He’s sitting on his haunches, tip leaking at the sight of you. Spreading your legs a little wider, you notice Sylus’s crimson eyes dropping to your cunt.

Battling himself, he counters, “And what if I hurt you, sweetie?”

“You won’t!” You exclaim in your desperation. “You won’t, baby, so please, just fuck me already,” you plead. His jaw tenses as he considers your eagerness.

At last, he agrees, “Alright. But if it hurts, we stop, darling.” You nod fervently, your heart rate spiking as he shifts over you and grabs a condom from his bedside table.

Sliding it on, your boyfriend positions himself between your legs. With a final few rubs to your clit, he slides his covered tip up and down your folds. You moan, back arching slightly at how good it feels. But once he’s dipping into your hole, all of that pleasure dissipates.

It’s like you’re being split open; he’s so thick. You bite down on your lip, stifling your screams as your fists clench the black sheets.

“It’s too much, isn’t it, kitten?” Sylus stops, barely inside, and stares at you. You shake your head energetically.

“No, no, it’s fine, baby! I’m fine, really,” you insist, but he can see right through you. Pulling the head out, it slaps against your clit, making you whimper.

“Syyyy—”

“No. I refuse to hurt you, sweetie,” he murmurs, yanking off the condom and tossing it into a nearby bin. Leaning over you, he places his large hands on either side of your head.

Your boyfriend kisses your forehead and mumbles against it, “We can do anything else you want, but not this.” You know you should just accept his words and move on, but something drives you to retaliate.

“I’ve done this before, Sy. It’s fine, like,” you shrug. He shakes his head, silver locks tickling your skin. His nose brushes yours, hot breath dousing your lips.

Sylus’s voice is a deep rumble as he asks sternly, “You’re telling me that your previous partners have… gone ahead when you’re clearly in pain?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Sy—”

“It is,” he grumbles. “It’s a very big deal, sweetie.” Drawing back, he lowers himself onto one elbow while his other hand cups your cheek.

Stroking your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, he says firmly, “Your pleasure comes first, is that clear? I won’t hurt you, even if you’re used to the pain.” Your resolve immediately falters.

“Sy…” you whisper, a loving warmth spreading throughout your body.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tug him into you. His cock is sticky against your inner thigh, and he’s so heavy, but you don’t care. His rare sincerity is what you live for, especially when he’s so sweet during moments like these.

“I love you,” you confess quietly, rubbing your cheek against his. Those muscular arms hold you tightly, reassuring you that not even death can pry him away from you.

“I love you, kitten,” he says low, peppering featherlight kisses on the shell of your ear, and down to your lobe before nipping at it affectionately.

You spend the night being pampered by Sylus. He showers with you: cleaning you up, drying you off, and moisturising your skin before you can do the same for him. You sleep in his meaty arms, your cheek squished against his broad chest, so you can listen to his soothing heartbeat.

The next morning, you wake up to empty bed sheets, which smell like leather and oud.

Sighing, you roll out of bed and freshen up. By the time you make it to the kitchen, there’s a note on the countertop. You pick it up with curious fingers and read your name in Sylus’s handwriting. Flipping it open, the note reads:

Good morning, sweetie.

Breakfast is in the oven. Text me when you’re ready. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.

Yours truly, Sylus.

Giggling to yourself, you set the note down and crouch to the oven’s level. The light is on, a golden pastry glittering beyond the glass.

You pull the door open by the handle, sugary heat rushing out. Slipping on an oven mitt, you pull out the baked goodie and shake it onto a plate.

“Awww,” you pout. He got you a croissant from your favourite bakery and kept it warm. You almost tear up from the tender gesture while making yourself your morning non-negotiable beverage (for me, it’s peppermint tea, but I know y’all might like coffee).

Setting your mug down on the island bench, you haul your croissant over to you and take a bite. The puff pastry is crunchy and deliciously sweet. It melts on your tongue; the butter is rich. Your tastebuds relish in the delicate flavour, a low moan falling from your now sticky lips.

Humming fondly, you finish your croissant and enjoy your drink before texting Sylus that you’re awake. He responds immediately with Come to my office, kitten.

After rinsing your plate and mug, you scamper off to your room and throw on a decent outfit before heading to Sylus’s office. There’s no sight of the twins as you navigate the halls, nor as you stop outside the door. Rapping on it a few times, you hear your boyfriend’s muffled voice permitting you entry.

Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by the sight of your handsome lover. Fitting black button-up, tousled silver locks, and rimless glasses perched on his sharp nose. He beckons you to come closer. Once at his side, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Morning, babe. Thanks for the croissant,” You chirp. He hums low, pecking your jaw and encircling your waist with his arm.

Pulling you onto his lap, you squeal gleefully, “Sy!” He shifts you so that you’re facing his monitor, your legs dangling over his. It makes him chuckle, seeing how cute his girl is.

Grabbing his mouse with one hand, he starts clicking away on the screen while explaining, “I’ve been thinking about last night, sweetie.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, your heart rate accelerating a little. Typing away on his keyboard, those arms encase your frame. You barely have time to register his search before he hits ‘Enter’.

“Dildos?!” You exclaim.

He smirks, “Don’t act so innocent, sweetie. I know you’ve used one of these before.” Twisting your back, you slap his chest playfully, earning an uproar of laughter from him. His chest vibrates against your back, making it difficult to frown as he clicks on a sex toy website.

“I’d like you to pick a few,” he grins cockily.

“Sy,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

He drawls, “Let’s start with a small size, and then you can work up to my size. How does that sound, kitten?” His tone is gentler than usual as he heads to the filters tab and adjusts the results. You know he’s trying to help, and you appreciate it… But it’s just so embarrassing. Covering your face with your hands, you groan into them wordless frustrations.

“How about this one?” You hear the click of his mouse, your face heating up with the knowledge that there’s a dildo being enlarged right now for your inspection. Dropping your hands in your lap, they hit your thighs with a faint slap. You stare at a clear dildo.

“Look,” your boyfriend says. He expands the specifications and reads them aloud to you, “Great for beginners. Glass. Five inches—”

“Five inches?! They don’t have anything smaller?” You ask anxiously.

Five inches might not seem like a lot in today’s climate of booktok romance and fanfiction misinformation (myself included to an extent), but for you, who struggles with painful penetration, five inches with a good girth is not feasible for you just yet.

Sylus says gently, “Let’s have a look.” Hitting the back button, you watch red-faced as he scrolls through numerous dildos. Some are realistic, others transparent and streamlined. Six inches, eight inches, nine inches.

“Anal training kit. What about this, sweetie?” He hovers his cursor over the image, zooming in on three dildos ranging in size.

“Can you click it?” You ask, hand reaching for his covering the mouse. Your boyfriend releases it and allows you to control the mouse. You click on the product and read through the specs.

“Four inches. Made from PVC,” you recite.

Sylus remarks, “PVC isn’t body-safe, dear. Why don’t we browse another store?” Regaining control of the mouse, he closes the tab and searches for small dildos this time.

You two spend who knows how long going through several stores’ dildo selections. Finally, you settle on a set of dilators made from certified medical-grade silicone.

Your boyfriend happily pays the exorbitant price with a sincere smile and a promise: “You’re not alone in this, alright? I’ll be right here, kitten. If you have any issues, you know where to find me, yes?” Shifting in his lap, you nod and lean in, kissing him lovingly.

“Thanks, Sy. Thanks for supporting me,” you murmur. He nods slightly before returning to typing in his black card’s information.

Ever the accommodating partner, he lets you sit on his lap as he goes back to arranging shipments and taking business calls. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his Adam’s apple as it bobs, completely relaxed and content to stay like this for hours. He holds you tight when possible, but there’s no need with how securely you’re clinging to him.

“Something wrong, sweetie? You’re clutching me like a baby sloth does to its mother,” he teases.

You giggle into his neck, “Mommy Sylus.”

“Tch.”

“You were asking for it,” you grin, defending yourself. He rubs your back soothingly, his dark office silent. Until his ringtone blares.

Sylus reflects, “I suppose I was,” before answering the line.

…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…

“Your fingers are like—mhmm— this size, right?” You breathe out, clutching his wrist. You’re on your back, your boyfriend on his haunches as he eases a medium-sized dilator in and out of your cunt.

You’ve been using the dilators Sylus bought you most days of the week. It’s become a habit for you two to shower together and then insert a dilator before bed. Usually, you spend around 15 minutes adjusting to the size. But since you’ve been progressing quickly, your boyfriend wanted to try something different tonight (with your permission, of course).

He smirks down at you, “Curious, kitten?” You nod, your lip drawn between your teeth harshly.

Slowly, he pulls the dripping dilator out and sets it on a nearby towel. Climbing over you, he catches your lips in a tender kiss. The way he presses against you, the emotion in the rhythm, he’s asking for consent.

Drawing back, Sylus hovers close as you give your answer, “I want to try it, Sy. I think-I think it’ll feel good this time.” He hums, the sound reverberating deep in his throat.

Stealing a peck, he shifts and grabs the water-based lube that goes with the silicone dilators. Squeezing a decent amount on his rough palm, your partner smears the cool gel all over your pussy. His fingers slip up your folds, causing you to buck your hips. You moan quietly, heat rising to your cheeks like it did the first time he helped you insert a dilator. He chuckles low, squeezing more lube onto his fingers and rubbing it in like lotion.

“Alright, darling. Shall we start slow?” He teases, his silver brow arched. You hum in agreement, shimmying your hips closer to his lubed-up hand. Those slender fingers make contact with your aching cunt again. His fingertips roll over your clit; your breathing shallows.

“Sy,” you pant, encircling his wrist with your fingers once more. You slide his hand down to where you need it most.

With his signature grin, your boyfriend prods at your entrance. His other hand brushes your hair back, your eyes finding his in the disarray of anticipation. He slips his middle finger in slowly, whispering sweet encouragement as he does so.

“My, my, look at how well you’re taking me, kitten. Does this feel good?” You don’t respond as he pushes in knuckle deep. Already, you feel so full of him, but his lack of movement is torturous.

Gazing up with lustful eyes, you whine, “Sy, please.”

Leaning down, his nose ghosts yours as he repeats himself, “Tell me, darling. Does this feel good?” Arguing for the affirmative, Sylus curls his finger up, the tip pressing against your ridged walls in the most delectable way possible.

“Sy!” You squeak. “Feels really good. Please—” You rock your hips on his finger, desperate for more.

He chastely kisses your nose before steadying himself on his elbow to keep close to you. Sliding his fingertip down, your lover repeats the come-hither motion, shrewd eyes trained on your face. He observes every single detail, from your frequent lip biting to your eyes clamping shut from ecstasy.

The pressure in your tummy builds. But it’s not just in your tummy, it’s a little lower, too.

Drawing his now-drenched finger out of you, you mewl at the loss, “Sy, baby. Why-why’d you—”

“Quiet, sweetie, or you’ll miss the best part,” he murmurs. You open your mouth, about to ask him what he’s referring to, when you feel it. Two fingertips poking at your fluttering hole.

“Relax, dear,” Sylus instructs. A small whimper escapes your teeth-marked lips as he manages the tops of his two fingers inside. He remains there for a moment, letting you clench and unclench until you’re ready for more.

Pushing them in at a leisurely pace, he reminds you, “Now’s not the time to act all tough. If it hurts, kitten, you need to let me know.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, eyes on the lewd sight of his fingers sinking deep into your pussy.

A couple of months ago, you were in this position. Sylus’s fingers buried in your cunt, stretching you out. Then, he had been preparing you for his dragon dick what’s to come. But now, he was focusing on your reactions to ensure your pleasure.

Pulling his fingers out halfway, he eases them back in.

“This alright?” He asks lovingly. You nod, a quiet whine tumbling out of your lips.

Your boyfriend sighs, “Say it, darling,” while kissing the corner of your mouth. His fingers curl, making you gasp and moan. You gaze at him like you’re etching every angular feature into your memory (you already have).

“Feel really full, babe,” you manage out, pleasure wracking through your system as his fingertips hit your g-spot again.

Sylus clarifies, “How so? A good kind of full? Or is it overwhelming?” Your lips press together, muffling a sweet moan as he continues fingering you oh-so-deliciously.

“Good. ‘S good, Sy,” you whimper.

Turning your head, you nuzzle his neck with your nose. Sylus has never cared for when you hide from him, especially at a time like this. When he needs to see you, to pick up on all of the little things you tell him with your eyes and incessant lip bites.

Kissing your hair, he mumbles into your scalp, “Won’t you look at me, kitten?” Whatever you hum into his skin is lost as a guttural moan tears through you.

One good thing about you being so close to his ear is that your boyfriend gets to hear your pornographic sounds like they were amplified by state-of-the-art speakers.

He groans, cheeks rubbing the side of your head affectionately while slipping his free arm beneath and around you.

Rolling you onto your side, Sylus whispers, “Throw your leg over my hips.” You obey, doing exactly that as he pulls you flush against his chest. His scent alone makes you moan, and his body is so warm it makes your insides all gooey. Or maybe that’s from his fingers. Probably both.

The squelching of your sopping cunt fills the dark bedroom. Through the window, the stars gaze upon your intimacy. Perhaps they cheer for you, rejoicing in the pleasure you’ve been able to find in something so daunting months prior.

“Sy— fuck! I—” Your moan cuts you off, arms tightening around his neck.

You hold onto Sylus like you’re stuck in the middle of the ocean, fighting for your life, so you don’t drown in the depths. But your ocean isn’t filled with water. Abundant are the sensations rippling throughout your body. Every movement of his fingers sends more and more arousal gushing from you.

Pressure accumulates in the pit of your stomach once more. It feels like he’s pushing down on your lower tummy, but you know he’s not. Drawing closer, you feel like you’re gonna wet yourself.

“Sy, wait! Wait, fuck, feel like I’m gonna pee,” you exclaim. But your boyfriend doesn’t heed your warning. If anything, it spurs him on.

“Do you now, sweetie?” He murmurs all seductively, his breath fanning your ear. You try to respond, but all that pours forth are broken whimpers and breathy moans.

He chuckles, “Don’t be afraid, darling.” You cry out into his chest, one of your hands flying to his working forearm, and he presses into your walls harder.

“Sy! I’m serious, Sy! I swear ‘m gonna—”

“You won’t. Now, let go,” he commands, his voice all gravelly.

It only takes a few more pumps until you’re diving headfirst into oblivion. The pleasure is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You can feel the mess you’re making, but you can’t seem to care as moans rip through you and your body convulses like you’ve been possessed.

“Fuck,” Sylus groans, watching as you squirt all over his hand and arm. It sprays onto his clothed thigh and drips onto the inky sheets. He’s never been more proud.

Your boyfriend praises you, “Look at how good you’ve done for me, kitten.” He kisses your sweaty hairline, your thighs clamped tightly around his still hand. Slowly, he slides his fingers out and draws them up through your folds. You whimper as he rubs a few lazy circles on your cilt, making your body jolt.

“Sy, please,” you rasp out. You’re exhausted, your limbs as mushy and pliant as he chuckles. Sylus gently maneuvers you onto your back and kisses your lips reassuringly.

He says low, “Stay here, sweetie, while I grab another towel.” You nod feebly, too weak to protest. Like you’d want to, anyway. The last thing you want to do is move right now, let alone follow your long-legged boyfriend off to the linen cupboard. And good thing you don’t, or you would have seen the wet patch at the front of his sweatpants.

Listening to the rustling of the bedsheets and thudding of his footsteps, your breathing grows steadier. Your eyelids feel heavy, as does your body. Next thing you know, Sylus’s callused hands are caressing your thighs, pulling them apart before he wipes you up with a damp towel. The soft, cool cotton is refreshing.

You sigh as you feel your partner’s warmth shift, his body hovering over yours. Plush lips place longing kisses on your brows, then your eyelids, cheeks, and finally, your lips.

He mumbles against them, “Was that your first time squirting, my love?”

“Mhmm, maybe,” you grin tiredly.

“Maybe?” He repeats before pecking your lips.

You giggle, “Yes.” Slowly, Sylus bundles you up in his arms and pulls you on top of him after lying down. His now-dry fingers stroke your hair, and his short nails occasionally scratch your scalp.

In his embrace, you release all your fears and doubts about this entire process. Never did you think this could happen. That you could 1) enjoy penetration and 2) squirt from it. But Sylus has shown you that through his love that anything is possible. Even though you’re not where you want to be, the improvements along the way have been nothing short of magical.

embarrassing/gone wrong sex moments m.list

star's final words: oh the vaginas ahem hymens i looked at in prep for this. not that i didn’t know what they were beforehand, but i def know a lot more now.

helpful links for your education:

cleveland clinic ⟶ what is the hymen? healthline ⟶ does it hurt when your hymen breaks? bien australia (these are the dilators i was talking about; i haven't used this product and i'm not promoting this product; i cannot attest to how effective they are) ⟶ vaginal dilators

[starpeachjelly]

Kindred Spirits ₊˚⊹⋆

Prologue.

summary: Love and deepspace, a game that you played in your past life. As for your current life? You're living in none other than Linkon city, a city from the aforementioned game.

warnings: Brief mentions of death.

word count: 1.2k

author's note: Officially making this a full fledged fanfic! I'm still super nervous about sharing my writing, but hopefully i'll get less anxious as time goes on. Not beta read sorry for any spelling mistakes. <3

You're eleven when the chronorift catastrophe happens. On that same day you get the memories of your old life back. It's an emotional roller coaster. The grief of your own death. The excitement and thrill of being in the game you had loved so much. The dread of realizing you'll have to experience being a teenager all over again.

It takes a while for you to calm down, but when you do, you decide on an important decision. You are going to live a normal life. You do *not* want to get in the way of what fate has planned for the characters of this world. Of course you would have loved to meet them, but you love being alive more.

Your normal life falls apart less than a week later.

She looks just like how you created her, only younger. Caleb and Josephine are standing right beside her. You stare in silence, too stunned to speak. You don't know what to do, your mind and heart are racing. You think about excusing yourself, but before you can speak your mother tells you to go play with the new neighbours. She's already ushering you out the door, not even giving you the chance to object.

The way she looks at you leaves you feeling uneasy. It's as if she knows your thoughts. You half expect her to tell you that you don't belong. Instead she greets you with a wide grin as she tells you her name.

Caleb introduces himself next. You know how much he's suffered, yet you wouldn't be able to tell based on the warmth his smile radiates.

You introduce yourself next, silently hoping you don't look as nervous as you feel. But the second you say your name, she grabs your hand and drags you to go play with Caleb following close behind.

After that day you try to avoid them both as best you can, still determined to keep your distance as to not affect the story this world has planned for her. But no matter how hard you try she always seems to find her way back to you.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear her call your name from across the street. You watch as her hand slips out of Caleb's to reach for yours instead, asking if you want to walk to school together. You instinctively glance at Caleb who's wearing the same warm smile from your first meeting. However, you're not oblivious to the subtle annoyance in his eyes.

You're about to politely decline her offer, looking back at her with her wide hopeful eyes and bright smile… You end up walking to school together.

Lunch rolls around and she's quick to sit next to you even though you're sitting with your friends. You're all older than her by a few years, yet she doesn't seem out of place. Her confidence is admirable, endearing even. But you're still worried about how she seems to be growing so fond of you so quickly. At least this time Caleb is busy with his own friends, which means you don't have to be subjected to any more jealous staring.

When school ends a small body wraps its arms around one of yours the moment you step foot outside the building. You look down to see her once again staring up at you with her big ol' eyes. The same eyes you remember spending an embarrassing amount of time customizing. She's asking you to come back home with her to help her on her homework.

Before you can answer a sudden chill runs down your spine. You don't even need to turn your gaze to know who's staring at you. You try to tell her that Caleb should help her instead. After all he is her best friend, and you two still don't know each other very well. (She doesn't know you well. But you know everything about her thanks to your love of a 3D dating sim.) Your suggestion falls on deaf ears. There's nothing you can do as she drags you home with surprising strength for an eight year old.

The next day you try leaving for school early. She manages to catch up to you before you're even a block away from your home.

You make sure to sit between two friends during lunch. Your butt barely has time to hit your seat before one of them gets invited to sit with her crush, leaving an empty seat behind. The spot immediately gets filled by a tinier body.

School ends, you hide in the bathroom until you're sure the majority of the students have left. You creek open the door and peer into the hallway, all you see are few teachers and a couple students. There's no sign of her. Slowly, hesitantly, you make your way to your locker. For once you've successfully managed to avoid her. A wave of relief washes over you as you put in your locker combination and swing open the door.

You grab your gym clothes, lunch bag, homework… One good thing about gaining your memory back is that elementary schoolwork is a breeze. Your heart drops to your ass when you close the door to reveal her waving at you from down the hall.

The possibility of her stalking you crosses your mind after the third week of her showing up wherever you are. Unfortunately the probabilities of an eight year old stalking you is incredibly low. It's also hard to believe she would do something so sinister when seems so innocent and harmless.

Every time you look at her your heart aches. Partly in fear of not knowing what's going to happen if she keeps clinging to you like this. But also because you keep thinking of everything she's gone through, and all the hardships she still has yet to face.

Eventually, when weeks turn into months, you come to accept the fact that no matter how hard you try you won't be able to avoid her. Worry and paranoia still cling to you. It's hard not to feel anxious when you don't know how your unexpected presence will impact the story.

Despite your apprehension you find yourself enjoying the time you spend with her. It's as if you're kindred spirits. When she laughs you can't help be laugh as well. When she cries you feel your heart ache. Everything she feels, you feel too.

On one random night you find yourself mourning your previous life. Sure your past life hadn't been perfect, but that doesn't stop you from missing those you were close with. You wonder how they're doing, if they miss you as much as you miss them. Yes, you love your new family and friends. Even so, there's a sense of loneliness that has weighed heavy on your heart ever since you regained your memories.

The next day you're caught off guard when she pulls you into an unexpected hug on your walk to school. When you look at her you see the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. She doesn't say anything. Unspoken words hang between the two of you. It slowly dawns on you. As she holds you tight, you realize now that she also feels what you feel.

tag list: @chocochip-gaia , @plzdonutpercieveme

[leyavo]

Simon Riley dating someone that grew up with a similar childhood like him.

He loves that you haven’t lost your childlike wonder and remained soft. You don’t let your bad experiences taint the way you treat others either.

You introduce him to the whole inner child notion and he listens to you as you talk about the toys you’ve recently bought. All the little trinkets you wanted as a child, but never got. He doesn’t make fun of you, knows that it makes you happy to acknowledge your younger self.

If he sees something you’ve mentioned, he’s definitely buying it for you. He even likes that you’ve got him stuff he wanted when he was a kid too.

Reading comic books together, he takes them to the base with him when he’s away. Smiles when he finds your little notes in between the pages. Silly thoughts of the plot line and how it was your favourite character. He loves that you’ve given him the space and safety to be vulnerable together, to touch on the past and create some good.

John Price dating someone disciplined like himself. Self assured and ready to go for what they want. You’ve known what you’ve wanted since you were young and done exactly that. Nothing can stop you once you have a goal.

He teases you for your military folding and the way you tuck your clothes in the drawer. Asks if you’ve ever enlisted knowing that you really haven’t. Loves that you can talk you’re self out of anything, saved him a parking fine a few times.

He loves that you approached him first and asked him out. Likes that you’re upfront about your feelings and assessing the relationship, making sure you’re both on the same page. There’s no room for silent treatment or lashing out, not when you two are honest. Too honest that you end up mirroring each others bad habits and come face to face with the things that need working on.

Because that’s what you do, you work on the hard stuff and come out on the other side of it a better person. You make him a better person without even meaning to. He’s the first one in your corner, backing you up when you’re stressed with work and need to vent, his similar train of thought easing your worries and helping you figure out a solution.

Johnny Mactavish dating someone that grew up just as wild as him. Both from a big family, elbows clashing with siblings at the dinner table. Never a quiet room in your childhood home that you aren’t afraid to take up space.

The type of kid that had scraped knees from climbing trees and mud splattering your shins. One that didn’t come home till the street lights came on.

Athletic too, he likes to look through the boxes of medals and trophies you worked hard for. Asks you about the skills you’ve learnt etc, if you’ve taken a fighting sport he’s definitely rolling around the floor with you.

He loves that you match his competitive nature, always seeing who can get home first from a morning run. Or betting on which team are going to win the match.

Rock climbing, hiking….any extreme sport really. You’re both up for it. He loves that you push him to do more, encourage him to keep going even if it’s difficult. Not everything comes easy, but you know that time and effort always pays off. That and it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun and take a risk.

Kyle Garrick dating someone who’s strongly led by their morals. Someone who was taught to stand up for those in need. You’ve always sought justice and did the right thing even when it was hard. There’s not much you’re backing down from and it keeps Kyle level headed.

You hold him accountable for things, let him know that what he’s done doesn’t sit right with you and you are the first to admit when you are wrong. The first to apologise, there’s no shame in it for you.

But above all he loves how caring you are, how you can comfort anyone no matter their age. How vulnerability is a strength and not a weakness.

How you build him back after a mission, let him process all the emotions and then ask for you. When he’s ready, so are you.

He lightens your mood, knowing that you’re deeply moved by what’s happening in the world currently. Gives you a breather, offers you a space to shut out everything beyond your home with him.

[Masterlist]

[digiflora]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘!

ꪆৎ choso ⸝⸝ sukuna ⸝⸝ gojo ⸝⸝ ino wc.

summary. life as a streamer creates all sorts of potential interactions- whether between other creatives, or just some random person in a csgo lobby...

contains! ꪆৎ streamer au ⸝⸝ cosplayer reader (choso) ⸝⸝ some suggestiveness + downbadness lmfao ⸝⸝ nerdjo my beloved

𐔌 gia's notes! ☆⌒(ゝ。∂) woioi chat. i've been on such a 2020 first lockdown nostalgic kick recently im ngl... hence the title of this fic LOL. and lowkey the content too 😞 you can kinda tell that i ran out of steam while writing this... but o well

streamer!choso [@/ch0k4m0] who is relatively well known- technically, for his gaming abilities, though what solidified his online fame was his rather candid commentary, with seemingly no filter between his thoughts and the words that come out of his mouth. that, and his looks which had broken the internet when he had face revealed, catapulting him from a fairly unknown but well loved streamer to regularly getting hundreds of thousands of views on his streams.

his current streams mostly consisted of him working his way through resident evil. viewers could expect to see a decent progression within each stream due to choso not being completely useless at playing the game, alongside his dumb comments diminishing the fear factor of the franchise ever so slightly. and of course, his ever so subtle crush on the character ada wong.

'chat oh my GOD i've never been so in love with some pixels before'

'ada baby please, just one chance. i know that i'm 3d and you're 2d but we'll make it work'

every time a cutscene of her plays, there's an absolute torrent of messages and donations teasing him for his poorly hidden crush, ones that choso takes the time to properly read through during his breaks in the stream. such an occasion happens now, with choso reading out some random comments when a new donation rings out, the text to speech voice that comes with it bearing a demand

'choso you need to look up this account RIGHT NOW and look at the video they just posted'

his brow furrows as he reads the username, deliberating on whether he should actually follow those instructions or if his viewer was just trying to mess with him. ultimately, he conceded to his chat's wishes and opened a new browser window, typing it in.

a mere few hours later after the stream, you found your notifications to be blowing up more than usual. you had posted a new cosplay video earlier today, but even then there was a little TOO many notifications to be your usual audience. you noticed that you had been tagged in an edit, inclining you to click on that before wading through the likes and comments. every time that you received one it was a special kind of joy, with the knowledge that someone enjoyed your cosplays enough to inspire them to make something. you hear the music begin to fade in once the edit loads, though the intro clip has you confused as you don't think that you've seen it before.

obviously, you recognise choso, the handsome and funny streamer who got really popular recently, and one that you have unfortunately joined many others in appointing as your resident e-crush. you weren't big on watching streams, but every time a clip of choso appears when you scroll, you can't help but watch the whole thing, partially for its entertainment value, and partially because of just how cute the guy looked on your phone screen.

so really, it was quite the surreal experience to hear your username fall from his lips as the clip plays on your phone, and you watch the edit in disbelief

'am i spelling this right, chat?'

'and the latest video, right- oh it's, holy fuck-"

the beat then kicks in. clips of your ada wong cosplay flashing across the screen, one final flashbang of choso's face as he watches your video with an almost comical expression of awe. you're left absolutely flabbergasted as the video begins to loop, clicking on the comments to see what the hell was going on

'get in damn line choso 😩'

'BROOOODJFNSJG I WAS WATCHING THE STREAM AND I JUST KNEWWWWW SOMEONE WAS GONNA MAKE AN EDIT WITH THAT CLIP 😭😭😭'

'the stream was like 2 hours ago this edit was so fast wtf'

'it should have been meeeeeee ughhh'

'the way choso scrolled thru her ENTIRE account and then followed her... that man's finally got a crush on a real personnnnn'

that last comment captures your attention specifically, and sure enough, you see his username amongst your many new followers. it pays to get noticed by a popular streamer, you suppose.

and then, to your utmost surprise, you also see his name pop up within your dm requests

@/ch0k4mo: sooo are you in need of a leon kennedy by any chance

the dm isn't exactly suave, but it has its intended effect as you blink at your screen as you process it, finally letting out a squeal of excitement, screenshotting the message shamelessly. your friends are not gonna believe this. and then, only after running laps around your room and waiting for your erratic heartrate to return to a normal tempo, you type out a shaky response.

@/yn: funny that you ask that, cos i had a few video ideas in mind ;)

you can only hope that on the other end of the line, choso is having a somewhat similar reaction to yours.

streamer!sukuna [@/kingkuna] who is notorious for causing chaos online, whether on fps games such as cs and valorant, or even on the more inane roblox games where he makes a living off of terrorising little kids. actions speak louder than words, though the streamer is quick to utilise both when instilling terror on whichever server has the misfortune of having him

'i do this for the love of the game, chat'

'well, that, and because bullying little runts is fun'

all of these actions, streamed live every wednesday and friday, helped to garner sukuna a rather.... distinct reputation.

despite being considered an asshole for all intents and purposes, sukuna had somehow amassed a following, all from his persona of being an online troll.

so this week's particular stream was especially shocking to his fans for all of the wrong reasons.

it started off like any other stream, sukuna casually reading off the odd message in his chat whilst preparing for the stream, retorting some snarky comment that has the chat getting more and more riled up, all with a shit-eating grin on his face.

it was more or less a love-hate relationship between him and his chat, though everyone seemed happy with the dynamic, expecting no less from the streamer.

this stream in particular was particularly anticipated, if the steadily increasing viewcount in the corner was anything to go off of, probably due to the fact that this wasn't quite like his other streams. despite the countless hours of his content, very little was known about sukuna, and as a 1 million subscriber goal, the man had acquiesced to people's demands for a q&a.

it started off as well as it could have, with rather generic questions rolling out. but of course, knowing sukuna's audience (and his lenient moderators), some raunchier ones started to worm their way through

'does it... jiggle when i walk? mods, get this clown out of here'

sukuna rattles through the questions, his fans clearly revelling in his embarrassing childhood stories, in the knowledge that his hair is not dyed, and how he views his streams as training to continue defeating his nephew in fortnite whenever they play together.

and then, finally, the fated question

'kingkuna i have to know for all the ladies out there... do u have a gf??'

it's a special donation message, one that rattles off loud and clear in a way that absolutely cannot be missed, though with the amount of time it takes for him to respond, he may as well have.

'hm, wouldn't you like to know?'

there's a torrent of outraged messages, before a deep booming laugh emits from the man.

'ehhh, i'm just fucking with you. of course i do, she's my forever girl.'

there's another torrent of messages in chat, though they're now oohing and ahhing at just how uncharacteristically sweet the streamer is being. his eyes flit over the incoming messages, his grin widening as his gaze lifts to somewhere beyond the webcam's reach.

there's a silent exchange, no words needed before sukuna reclines back in his chair, his legs spreading as he makes room for whoever's coming into frame.

'she's right here, too. everyone say hi to y/n'

and when she situates herself right on his lap and his arm wraps around her waist, the chat goes crazy. the streamer seems to remember his regular image, cackling at the desperate onslaught of messages eager to get even a morsel of information about the two of you, instead starting to click away at the preparations needed before he ends the stream

'oh would you look at the time, looks like i'll be having to end the stream now. see you suckers on wednesday'

'byeeeee!'

you can't help but chime in, giggling and waving right at the camera before the stream shuts off, and you feel sukuna begin to truly relax into his chair, shuffling you impossibly closer to his chest, hugging you to him and burying his face against you.

'aww, you big baby'

'dunno what you're talking about'

you giggle at your boyfriend's antics, though definitely used to them by now. instead, you get comfy, letting sukuna use you as his personal pillow as you card through his hair with one hand, the other unlocking your phone and you begin to scroll through twitter. #kingkuna1m was already trending thanks to the premise of his livestream, and you can't help but click on the tag, looking through some of the most recent tweets.

'never would i EVER have expected SUKUNA of all ppl to be relationship goals'

'praying on his downfall fr 🙏🙏🙏 he doesn't know how good he has it'

'he's so EVIL for ending the stream like that omfg'

'the way he looks at her IM SICKKKKK ☹️☹️☹️☹️'

that last one comes with a video, a hasty screen recording of those last few moments of the stream as you wave at the camera, though you're focusing on the shamelessly lovestruck expression on sukuna's face as he watches you. it's enough to have you giggling and kicking your feet right in his lap, and he grumbles, his spare hand catching onto your flailing ankle

'quit squirming, brat'

'but you're just so cute, kunaaa'

you show him your phone screen, and it's your turn to study his face as he looks at the video impassively, though he can't hide the little twitch of his lips.

'my camera must be faulty, gotta get a new one'

streamer!gojo [@/sago] who is affectionately known by his fans for being a big fat nerd. it's not like he tries to hide it, the background of his setup decorated avidly with all sorts of posters and memorabilia from his favourite shows and games. compared to other streamers, too, gojo wasn't one to particularly shy away from details of his personal life, his laidback and easygoing persona making it easy for people to become regular viewers of his streams.

on said streams it was commonplace for his chat to ask him questions about himself, and more often than not he would give them an answer- and on one of these such occasions is when he let slip the fact that he had a roommate. and that in itself isn't anything too worldbreaking to hear, but it's the way he almost lights up as he mentions your name that has his fans intrigued.

even more interesting is gojo's reluctance, for lack of a better word, about relinquishing more information about you. how quick he is to change the subject, or act as if he never read the original message at all.

and in an impressive effort which has the streisand effect in strong contention to be renamed to the gojo effect, this only further instils a need for his fans to know everything that they possibly could about you.

it's arguably one of his most well-loved bits with an incredibly long longevity, with a large amount of fanmade compilations of him at least alluding to it

'who's my roommate? i'll let you know when i find out'

'come back with a warrant, fed'

'that's some very personal information there which i would be hesitant to spread online. what do you MEAN i was telling you all about where i grew up 2 minutes ago-'

(you get the picture)

therefore, it's a rare and delightful treat whenever a new tidbit about you is let slip by the streamer. the day that your name got accidentally revealed by him on stream was a day for the books. and of course, since gojo's fans were deranged, your insta account and subsequent face reveal were soon to follow.

and once the cat was out of the bag, gojo seemed to begrudgingly relax about your secrecy. you started popping up in streams a bit more often, usually just a face peeking in to the room of gojo's setup, a sneaky wave that satoru would notice later and grin to himself about. he's got a highlight reel of your appearances on his twitch profile that he likes to rewatch more than he cares to admit.

one time, he even had you sat next to him during a just chatting stream, the two of you shooting the shit. his fans were quick to point out how red the tips of his ears were throughout the whole stream. and how he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars whenever you spoke. and how he kept looking at you like that even when you weren't speaking.

it was never official, but satoru's feelings for you were.. rather obvious to anyone with the time to tune in to his streams. his touchiness regarding you seemed to make a lot more sense now, and became the newest aspect of satoru's life for his chat to ruthlessly mock.

today was just a regular stream- some mindless shooter game that satoru was way too invested in, no mentions or guest appearances of you. until now.

the door opened in the background of the stream- satoru's eyes flick up just before the door even moves, as if he had a sixth sense just for you- and you storm into the room, closer to annoyed than your usual cheery self.

'toru, you forgot to take out the bins. they're being collected tomorrow so don't leave it too late

and just like that, you're gone again. there's not even an ounce of hesitation before satoru is getting up from his desk, headphones coming off despite the yells of his teammates for him to stop fucking around and help them rush a.

chat is making their usual comments, a spam of their love for you and excitement that you've made an appearance. a few keener watchers were geeking over the toru nickname that's sure to make their way into the next y/n and gojo compilation video.

and despite all of this, satoru's heading out of the room.

'my girl's mad at me guys, i gotta go fix it'

and he's only gone for a few minutes, at most. but it's like an implosion of oncoming messages, all scrolling past his screen with no eyes to see them.

gojospinkietoe: FIRST TORU THEN MY GIRL!!!???? OHHHH MY GOD 🥺🥺🥺

iwatchmen: the gojoyn fans are gonna loveeee this

gojoyn5evrrr: SOMEONE CLIP THAT

funnily enough, satoru doesn't even realise the slipup until he's almost back to his room. at least he can blame the blush this time on having to have gone outside very briefly.

it's not exactly the same as his usual slipups when it comes to you- usually, there's at least an element of truth to them, but this appears to be sourced from somewhere deeper in his brain, a lot more of a subconscious desire that he hoped wouldn't breach into the conscious realm.

not until he was ready, at least.

streamer!ino [@/yunglean4ever] who's more of an up and coming streamer.. but he's slowly and steadily making his way up the rankings!! his game of choice is usually an fps, with his default usually being csgo. or something like that. he enjoys the straightforward nature of it. and teabagging his opponents when he's in the mood to be a little shit.

during these livestreams he's met many a different player, some friendlier than the regular silence or automatic irritated mood that most seemed to have- or some russian guy screaming words into the mic that was anyone's guess as to what it meant.

and while interacting with said teammates is always a promising aspect of entertainment, ino wasn't one to remember most of these interactions, save for a few especially distinct ones.

one such occasion is when he meets you. you've got your mic on, which is always more appealing for ino than having to communicate via typing or reading chats, and even better is the almost instant connection that the two of you make. you giggle at his silly username, he indignantly defends his love for drain gang, and the rest is history.

one match played together turns into a friend request, which turns into becoming a party, which turns into playing duos, which turns into goving each other your discords, which turns into many more rounds which extend way after ino ends his stream.

it was merely a start to this new... something, but with the way that ino caught himself laughing a little too hard at your mildly funny jokes, he had a feeling that it would turn into something much more.

so when he boots up his pc the next day, it's not much surprise to him that there's some giddy emotion that he feels when he says a message from you

'wanna play? had a lot of fun last night w u :D'

he couldn't type out a response fast enough to contain his excitement.

⋆˚࿔ jjk masterlist

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ... or, try reading hopelessly devoted to you

[hyunles]

Overtime | H. HJ.

pairing: ceo!hyunjin x fem!reader word count: 3,7k genre: smut. +18, MDNI cw: no proofread, explicit wording, boss x employee relationship, kissing, couch sex, oral (f.), fingering, creampie, breast sucking, penetration, unprotected sex (pls don't), brief dirty talk, male whimpering, a lot of moaning. Let me know if I missed something! notes: hyunjin in suit always makes me go feral godddd, he's so handsome as always, english is not my first language, pls consider on giving feedback (in the kindest way possible) taglist and requests are open, feel free to ask! have a nice reading <3

It was time for you to fulfill another of your New Year's resolutions: Get a new job.

As a recent graduate, it was a little difficult for you since everyone asked for a twenty-year-old with thirty years of experience, but you always did your best at job interviews.

Today you were supposed to go to a job interview at a law firm. Your position? Nothing fancy, just the CEO assistant.

Naturally, you were nervous. He was the one interviewing you, so you really hoped to not embarrass yourself.

As you made your way to the entrance of the big building, you could feel your heart rate start to rise. No. You had to calm down.

Taking a deep breath, you got onto the elevator and pressed the needed button. Eight floor.

You reviewed your resume, which wasn't that impressive. You also reviewed a few lines your mother had said would help you a long time ago, when you were in middle school, but they could work now.

The elevator came to a stop and you got out, walking until you reached the office. His office.

You could hear people arguing inside, that made your brows furrow, but you decided to knock either way since it was already the time you were called.

The words stopped and a male voice said something inaudible before a guy about your age walked out, fuming in anger.

"Come in." The same male voice called you.

Your boss. Hwang Hyunjin.

You nodded and walked inside. "Good evening. I'm the applicant for the assistant position." You said and immediately handed him your resume.

He hummed, reading quickly but carefully. "Take a seat." He nodded to the chair across his desk, where you sat a few seconds later.

"A chef at a sushi restaurant and a barista at a cafe? How did you end up here?" Hyunjin said without tearing his eyes away from the paper.

"Everyone is asking for years of experience that are impossible for someone my age. And in your ad, you were asking for an assistant between 25 and 30 years old." You explained calmly, hoping he couldn't notice your nervousness.

"Okay, a 25 year old… Are you organized? Can you handle stress?"

You immediately nodded. "Yes sir, I can, totally. I'm very good at it."

"Good."

Silence again, just the sound of the CEO flipping through the few pages of your resume.

"I want you in my team. If you're interested, you start tomorrow." He said with his serious voice.

Your eyes widened a bit as you smiled ever so slightly. "Thanks sir, that really means a lot."

"It is full time. Monday to Friday from nine to five, an hour of lunch at two, I'd maybe need you to stay overtime but I always notify you in advance." He started. "You have social security and a month of paid vacation when you choose it, and a small bonus at the end of the year. Is that okay with you?"

You were immediately surprised. Was that really true?

"Definitely! More than I expected, actually."

"Good. You can start tomorrow morning. See you tomorrow." He nodded and stood up. "I'll take you to the door."

You’ve been working there for a few months now, and everything had been going smoothly. The office was well-organized, and you had made friends with some of the employees.

You've heard rumours about how Hyunjin had a reputation for being strict, cold, and downright intimidating when angry. And he definitely was like that with everyone. Everyone but you for some reason.

Of course, he was still firm, but there was something softer beneath his gaze when he looked your way, a glint of interest that left you wondering. He’d often call you to his office, offering a thousand excuses —small, irrelevant things that could have been handled over email.

Today started off as an average day in the office, any given Friday. You found yourself in the office kitchen, making coffee, when suddenly your phone buzzed. It was Hyunjin.

"I need you in my office. Now."

With a quiet sigh, you put your coffee down, feeling a slight tremor of nerves dance in your stomach. You knew it was never just a simple request with him. And you always were a bit nervous because of all the rumours even when he was softer with you.

As you entered his office, the air felt heavy. Hyunjin was seated behind his desk, his sharp eyes locking onto you the moment you stepped inside. The look on his face was one of irritation, though you weren’t sure if it was because of something you did or something else

“What took you so long? I asked you to bring me an important file yesterday." He said with the severe voice you've grown accustomed to.

"The files on Mr. Kim's trial? I left them on your desk and texted you at nine." You replied calmly but firmly as you always did. Careful.

He frowned, rummaging through the numerous files he had on his desk —or pretending to—, and quickly finding the folder.

You started to think he just called because he wanted to see you. But you immediately shook those thoughts aside.

"Right… Well, now that you're here, I have to ask you something." He said, gesturing you to sit on the chair across his desk.

"The lawyers' dinner is on your agenda, right?" He didn't even wait for you to answer. "I need you to go with me and take notes."

You frowned slightly in confusion but nodded anyway. "But it's tonight."

"Do you have something to do?" He immediately asked, leaning against his desk with a serious expression.

"Not really but you should've-"

"I want you there at six in the fanciest clothes you have." He said firmly, not leaving room for discussion.

You sighed quietly and nodded, standing up. "I'll be there."

He didn't say anything.

You stepped back.

"If you don't have anything else to say to me, I'll go." You waited until he nodded and walked out of the office.

It was going to be a hell of a night.

17:20

Of course you were ready. You needed to leave now if you wanted to make it on time.

The outfit wasn't very impressive. Just a black dress with short sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, knee-length. Also, some low heels and black, thin tights.

Nothing very revealing but not simple either. The few jewels giving it a plus.

You walked out of your house, where your taxi was already waiting. You got in and indicated the driver the address.

After a few minutes, you texted Hyunjin. Just a small message.

"I'm on my way. See you there."

A simple and concise message.

You started to organize your small notebook, getting ready for whatever notes you had to take as Hyunjin said.

That ruined the Friday night —that just implied drinking coffee as you stayed up late drawing or talking with some friends— you had planned.

Either way, you no longer had reason to complain if you were on your way to dinner. A luxurious meal at a 3-star Michelin restaurant. You always thought they were exaggerating too much.

After a few minutes, you arrived at your destiny. You paid and got out of the taxi, walking inside and asking in reception for the table, a big one in a private room.

You were the first, as always. It was 17:50 now, and you had to wait.

You started scheduling the tasks for Monday, both yours and his, killing time.

Suddenly, the door opened. There he was, looking neat as always, you dare to think he looks even better.

White button-up shirt, a black tie, black pants with the usual belt he loved —the one that camouflaged perfectly but also had a subtle golden buckle—, and the glasses he rarely wore and made him look even more professional. His black, short hair was also slicked back, some strands loose, falling perfectly on his forehead.

Hot, you thought. But you immediately shook your head slightly.

"You're early." He stated, taking a seat next to you.

"I like to arrive early. Arriving 10 or 15 minutes early is just in time for me." You explained as you kept writing.

"I like how punctual you are."

You blinked slightly, even stopped writing for a second, but you quickly recomposed.

"I lied to you. I didn't want you to come take notes. I just wanted you here." He said as if it was nothing.

It was definitely anything but nothing.

"Oh…" You mumbled.

"You make me feel more… in control. You help me so much." He continued. "I like it. You keep me grounded with that seriousness of yours. You need to loosen up a bit." He chuckled, leaning closer.

"I'm fine." You simply said, turning your face away just a bit.

He let out a quiet sigh and sat straight again. "Do you even drink?" Hyunjin asked like you were friends.

"I don't like the taste of alcohol." You kept writing.

He snatched your notebook away, smirking. "Leave this. This dinner is supposed to be a… party, so to speak."

"No."

"Come on, you can't be this boring." He teased.

You sighed, looking at your notebook in his hands. He had pretty hands, you've thought that since you met him.

When he was about to make a snarky remark, the chatter of people on the hallway could be heard, he looked at the door.

At least 20 people walked inside, laughing and smiling as they greeted the two of you.

You just smiled slightly and greeted back, memorizing everyone and remembering their last names in case you needed it.

Hyunjin joined the talk soon, his eyes going around the big table before the waiter started taking orders.

The evening reached its peak, everyone was already a bit tipsy, just a few were drunk. People kept coming, you even had to give up your seat to one of the lawyers because he said he was having knee problems.

There were at least 40 people cramped in that medium room. Unexpected guests, people walking around… A total mess.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was having a blast. He talked and talked about the stupid cases he got and won. Obviously, he was slightly tipsy, but he was very composed.

You sighed quietly and excused yourself, walking out of the room, already exhausted and feeling overwhelmed.

You sat down on one of the benches in the small garden outside. You felt calmer, You sat down on one of the benches in the small garden outside. You felt calmer, ready to go back.

But Hyunjin appeared again. It was like he had some magic trick to just pop up wherever you were.

"I'm leaving now. I'm tired. Do you want me to take you home?" He said, smiling. Weird sight, that really gave away the fact that he was tipsy, drunk even.

"You're not driving in this state. I'll take you home." You said, leaving no room for argument.

Hyunjin chuckled. "You noticed?"

"Obviously, you're all red, smiling, and even laughing."

"So you know me…" He whispered as you walked towards the parking lot.

You ignored that comment, shaking your head slightly. Focus.

"This is my car." He said as he grabbed his keys, opening it.

You walked towards the driver's door and extended your hand. He placed the keys on your palm and walked towards the passenger seat.

The drive was quiet, calm. He was very awake, looking out the window.

You were driving calmly, but your mind was going at an outrageous speed.

Thoughts like hot, or he's cute didn't leave your head, you were already stressed.

And his voice didn't help.

"I think I need to wear my glasses daily. My head isn't hurting."

"Funny because you're drunk." You smiled slightly.

He looked at you. "Hey… You're smiling."

That made your eyes go slightly wide. "Wait, you think I never smile?"

"Well…"

"I'm offended." You chuckled, driving calmly.

Hyunjin sighed and leaned his head against the headrest of the seat. Silence returning, slightly tense now.

"You loosen up when I'm drunk." He said.

It caught you off guard.

"You feel more human this way." You murmured.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You always look like a robot. Just work, work, work. I even have to remind you when it's lunch time."

He looked at you with a silly smile. "I need to keep everything in check."

"Not alone. That's why you have me and the other lawyers, the litigation team, everyone. It's not just your job. It's a team effort."

That shut him up, leaving him thinking.

"Text me that please, I want to remember that every day."

You rolled your eyes playfully, pulling over his house. "We're here. Can you walk for yourself?"

"I'm not drunk, just slightly tipsy. I just feel like chuckling."

"Okay." You murmured, getting off the car.

You walked him to his front foor, waiting for him to get inside.

But instead, he opened and leaned against the doorframe.

"How are you going home?"

"I'll take a taxi."

"No."

He didn't even ask when he pulled you inside.

You tried to protest but he quickly shot the door behind you and took off his shoes.

"You're staying with me tonight."

You frowned, taking off your shoes. You knew he wasn't letting you go.

"Where?"

"The guest room. It's spacious."

You nodded as you walked inside, looking around. The house was big, giant for just one person.

"Do you live alone?" You asked, sitting on one of the couches.

"Yes. I used to live with someone but she left. That was 6 years ago anyway." He felt the need to clarify. Why?

"I see."

You started to reorganize your schedule for tomorrow since it'd be difficult to return home in the morning in less than 30 minutes.

He noticed and sat next to you, taking your phone and placing it on the coffee table. "You need to sleep."

"I could say that to you."

"I'm fine."

"You're drunk."

A moment of silence before he looked at you with slight curiosity. "Are you single?" He blurted out.

Your eyes widened as you looked at him. "Why?"

"Just answer."

It took you a moment, but you nodded. "Yeah."

That seemed to please him, making him scoot closer.

Maybe it was the alcohol on his system or the liking he took for her these past months, but he felt bold enough to move his hands towards your waist.

"Hyunjin…" You started but he shushed you quickly.

"You're really pretty." He murmured, making your breath catch. Why was he doing this right now, when he looked so good?

He smiled slightly and cupped your face in his hands, getting closer. So close your breaths mingled together and you could feel the warmness of his body.

"Sir, we shouldn't do this." You murmured, but you didn't move.

"Push me away." He whispered. "Tell me to stop."

You couldn't.

He got closer, noses now brushing.

"I want you. Not just for tonight, but forever. You've made me feel things I never felt…" He murmured, a bit of vulnerability in his voice.

You didn't know what to say, it was like your brain just short-circuited right there and then.

So he took the opportunity and brushed his lips against yours, barely, softly.

"Can I?" Hyunjin whispered.

You nodded.

And that was all the confirmation he needed before kissing you. It was a soft but hungry kiss. You could notice he'd been thinking about it for weeks, months even.

His fingers tangled around your hair as you pulled him closer by the tie. He groaned and pressed himself against you, making you lay down.

Eventually, you broke the kiss in need of air. Quiet gasps and a slight chuckle escaped his mouth. "You're a better kisser than I imagined." He mumbled.

You smiled as your filter and your moral flew away. "Hyun…"

"A nickname? Where's the serious you?" Hyunjin chuckled quietly, kissing down your jawline and neck.

You shivered, tilting your head back as your hands undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

He groaned and helped you with his shirt and pants, already desperate.

"I want you so much…" He whispered, you sighed.

Finally, he started taking off your dress, very gently for his desperation. He was almost admiring you.

"You're so gorgeous…" He whispered, throwing your dress to the floor, kissing down your chest, feeling the texture of your bra with his fingertips.

You could just sigh and move your hands to the back of his head, pulling him closer.

He smiled and unclipped your bra, immediately taking one of your breasts on his mouth, grinding against you.

You couldn't take it and it was just starting. You arched your body, seeking more contact.

He grabbed your hips and played with the edges of your underwear. You sighed desperately. "Just take them off…"

He chuckled, kissing down your abdomen while pulling your panties down. You were already wet, drenched even.

You squirmed slightly when he kissed your thighs.

"God, so wet for me?" He whispered before licking once, his tongue flattening against your entrance. You moaned, gripping the couch.

He started to lick desperately, almost animalistic. He was so needy for you, like a starved man eating you out. And you could just moan and whimper, keeping his head in place.

He kept his ministrations, now moving his lips towards your clit, sucking gently and licking. You moaned his name like a prayer and buckled your hips up, seeking more contact.

Hyuniin decided to make this more interesting and delicious, since both of you were desperate.

He introduced his middle finger on your entrance, slowly at first, lubricating it. You moaned and moved your hips, begging for him.

"Hyunjin… G-God…" You could just say, it was like all thoughts just disappeared from your brain and the only reasonable thing was him, his fingers on you, his tongue on you.

He started moving his finger until it hit that gummy spot, making you let out a yelp, closing your eyes. The pleasure you were feeling was indescribable.

Hyuniin introduced his ring finger, moving both quickly, out and inside, curling them, making it messy.

His lips and chin were glistening with your arousal, and the sight turned you on even more if that was possible.

"Come on… Good girl…" He whispered as he moved his hand faster. The wet sounds making him groan.

"Fuck… You're so good for me…" He whispered, his other hand moving to his boxers, taking them off. His length was so hard it started to hurt, and he had to pump up a bit to relieve himself before aligning it with your wet pussy. "Can you take me?" He murmured, eyes filled with lust.

You nodded.

He pushed inside, stretching you slowly.

"Goodness…!" You moaned loudly, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

He whimpered quietly, filling you up so good. His hips finally made contact with yours and he stayed still for a second, waiting until you grew accustomed to the feeling, the stretch.

"Please… Move…" You could barely whisper. Your mind was clouded with pleasure and your thoughts were only on how good he felt inside you.

His big length twitched, and he started moving, slowly out and suddenly in, that was his pace, making you moan loudly and stealing whimpers from himself.

You'd never expected him to be the loud type, but you weren't complaining.

"Please… Oh God… Please…" He whimpered, moving faster, causing wet sounds. You moaned, loving how he sounded. "Finally… I can have you…" He wasn't even thinking what he was saying, he got so carried away that he no longer thought straight.

With every thrust, you moaned and he whimpered, saying his pleading again and again, hitting that stop repeatedly, making your sight go white.

In a few more thrusts, his hips stuttered. He was close, and so were you.

"I'm gonna…" You whispered.

"Yes baby, come for me. Come with me…" He mumbled, letting out a soft moan. His head falling on your shoulder, kissing there softly.

And finally, you felt it forming more persistently down in your stomach. You were about to cum. Your moans were unstoppable, with absolutely no filter.

He bit your shoulder, moaning quietly but loud enough for you to hear and take you over the edge.

With that, you came, and seconds later, you felt his release filling you up.

Your legs trembled, your body felt weak.

That was the best sex you had in your life, and you were probably going to regret it in the morning. But who cares when your boss just gave you the best orgasm in your entire life, right?

You were panting, cleaning your sweat away. He stayed inside you for a second before sliding out carefully, he didn't want to overstimulate you.

"You're so good at everything, I'm impressed…" He murmured, kissing you again, gently now, lovingly.

You broke the kiss reluctantly. "You won't regret it?"

"No. Never."

You smiled, kissing him softly.

"Let's take a bath." He murmured against your lips.

Two months had already passed since that messy night. You two kept your professional facades but, outside of the building, you two went on dates, getting to know each other.

Obviously you never wanted a one-night-stand, and neither did he. He was an absolute romantic, lover of cheesy things. You could've never guessed since he always kept his serious facade, but you were happy that you were the one who got to see that side of him.

Today you were answering mails as always when you got a message from Hyunjin.

"Are you free today?"

"For you always ;)"

"Good. I need to see you at the park after work. 6:30, without delays."

"Okay, Mr. Mistery."

With that, you left your phone on your desk again, now a bit more nervous.

But you knew, whatever it was, whatever he wanted to talk about, it was going to be something good. You knew him better now, and you knew he was planning something romantic. He's been weird for days, not calling you after work, nothing, but acting like a highschooler in love.

You knew, whatever it was, you loved him, flaws and all. He was the perfect person for you.

And you were the perfect person for him.

ᝰ.ᐟ Reblogs and likes are very appreciated. If you liked this, please consider them!

Thanks for reading!

── 2025, hyunles ⋆ No translations, rewrites, or reposts allowed.

[pinkpurplesunrises]

Eyes up here, amor! - the short story - but not kinda short? - Alexia Putellas x Reader - Fluffy & bit Smutty - Small mentions of breast cancer - Read with care

Writer's note: this is a scheduled upload. I'm still on a bit of a writing break. It was fun writing this one. I hope you all like it.

La Masía, Barcelona, Age 18

Alexia Putellas had this thing she did when she was distracted.

It was subtle. Just a tiny pause. A fraction of a second where she stopped mid-sentence or mid-movement, as if someone had pressed the invisible 'pause' button on her brain. Her eyes would widen. Just a bit. Her mouth slightly open. And her thoughts would fumble like a player miscontrolling the ball.

You recognized it early on. Before even your first kiss. Before the late-night texts turned into sneaking kisses behind the stands after practice. Before she officially asked you out during a half-melted walk through Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. The churro in her hand forgotten entirely because she was too nervous to eat it.

And you especially recognized that look today.

You were sprawled on the pitch after taking a tackle that was more clumsy than aggressive. One of the boys trying too hard to impress, probably. Your elbow smarted. Grass stuck to your knee. And your shirt had ridden up a little in the chaos. Alexia was already jogging over. The sun catching the glint of the tiny silver chain she always wore under her training top.

“Estás bien?” she asked, a little breathless.

You nodded, brushing dirt from your stomach. “Yeah. My pride’s more bruised than anything.”

And then it happened.

She stopped.

Just two steps away from you, and she froze. Her eyes flickered downward for a split second. Just enough to notice your sports bra had slid a little lower than usual. And that your chest was doing its usual gravity-defying thing you always joked about in front of the mirror.

She didn’t say anything. But her face said everything.

You tilted your head. “Alexia.”

Her eyes snapped up. “What?! I was checking if you were hurt!”

“Right. And my boobs are where the injury would be?”

“They could be!” she defended, raising her eyebrows like it was the most logical thing in the world. “Impact can happen anywhere.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, and she immediately folded under the weight of your suspicious glare. “Okay, okay, maybe I just… noticed them. But I was still concerned!”

You snorted and accepted her outstretched hand as she helped you up. “Concerned in a very visually appreciative way.”

Alexia tried to play it cool, brushing imaginary lint off her shorts. “I mean, can you blame me? They’re nice.”

“Oh my God,” you groaned, but you were laughing.

She pulled you close. Grinning. “What? I’m your girlfriend. Am I not allowed to admire the artwork?”

“You’re supposed to be training.”

“I am training,” she said, tugging your hand toward her chest. “Cardio. My heart races every time I look at you.”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” you whispered, leaning in.

“Worked though, didn’t it?” she whispered back. Her nose brushing yours.

It had.

You kissed her, there in the middle of the pitch. Just behind the coach’s blind spot. Quick. Warm. Familiar. When you pulled back, her gaze flickered downward again. Just for a beat.

“Alexia.”

“What?! I’m making sure you’re okay!” she said and then cracked into a helpless grin.

You hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her gaze up to yours. “Eyes up here, amor.”

She laughed and kissed you again. Grinning into it like she’d already forgotten the practice. The turf. The world around you. And honestly, so had you.

Alexia's Family Home, Mollet del Vallès, Age 19

July in Spain meant three things: sticky heat, the constant scent of sunscreen, and the hum of cicadas that never shut up.

The kind of summer where your skin always felt sun-warmed and a little salty. Drinking ice water felt like a spiritual experience. You and Alexia had just come back from an exhausting beach volleyball match. More play than competition, really, though she got very competitive when you teamed up against two smug boys who underestimated your left arm.

You’d crushed them, by the way.

Now, sprawled across your bed in the hazy late afternoon light, neither of you had moved in over an hour. The fan whirred lazily above you. Your legs were tangled somewhere in the middle. Both of you half-asleep. Half-melted.

You were wearing nothing but a sports bra and shorts. Too hot for anything else. Alexia had shed her tank top a while ago. In favor of just lying in her shorts. A light sheen of sweat still clinging to her collarbones.

She was supposed to be reading a training manual next to you. Flipping through pages and pretending to care about tactical diagrams.

But the book sat untouched on the nightstand.

Instead, her head rested on your stomach. One arm draped lazily across your waist. fingers idly brushing the skin just under the band of your bra. She wasn’t even subtle about it. Every few minutes, she’d shift. Just slightly. To nuzzle a little higher. Just enough so her cheek grazed the lower swell of your chest.

You felt her do it again and exhaled. Amused.

“You’re doing it again,” you murmured. Running your fingers through her hair. Still damp from the shower.

She blinked, playing dumb. “Doing what?”

You dropped your voice into a mock-serious whisper. “Studying for your Boob-servation degree.”

Alexia let out a snort-laugh against your skin. “I’m telling you, I’m going to graduate summa cum laude.”

“I think you’ve already earned your PhD by now,” you said, rolling your eyes. Though your hand never stopped combing gently through her blonde strands. “You’ve been napping on them like pillows all week.”

“They are the best pillows,” she mumbled. Nose nudging your sternum now. “They’re soft. And warm. And mine.”

You looked down at her. Raising an eyebrow. “Yours, huh?”

“Completely,” she said with that smug little half-smile you’d come to love. Pplayful but also possessive in a way that made your chest flutter. “I’ve done the field work. Hands-on research. Peer-reviewed.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you laughed anyway. Because she wasn’t wrong. Not after last month.

You hadn't planned it, really. Your first time together. It just... happened. One quiet night. After a long talk. When emotions were high and the distance between you too small to ignore. Fingers had trembled at first.

Kisses had slowed down. Breath caught between nerves and want. But when it finally happened, it felt easy. Not perfect. Not like a movie. But right. Like all that trust and love had finally tipped over into something deeper.

Since then, she’d been softer with you somehow. More tactile. More comfortable claiming space against your skin.

And more brazen about her favorite body part.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you teased, “but there is a whole human attached to these. You know, with hopes, dreams, a personality…”

“I know,” she said. Tilting her head up to look at you with that golden brown gaze that still made your stomach flip. “And I love her too. All of her. Especially the part where she lets me fall asleep with my face in her boobs.”

You burst out laughing. “Wow. So that’s your love language?”

“Yup.” She adjusted slightly. Arm sliding around your ribcage. Hand splayed across your side. “Physical touch. Specifically... boob-based touch.”

You rolled onto your side. Gently pulling her with you, so she was nestled even closer. Legs tangling again as your noses brushed. Her eyes fluttered shut at the closeness. Her thumb tracing small shapes on your bare back.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered against her lips.

“And you’re beautiful,” she whispered back. All humor gone from her voice now. Replaced with something softer. More reverent.

You kissed her, slow and lazy and heat-slicked. A little salt from her skin still on your lips. When you pulled back, she buried her face in your chest again with a contented sigh. Both arms around your waist now, fully tucked into you like you were home.

“Best view in the world,” she mumbled. Already half-asleep.

You smiled. Heart full. Skin warm. And whispered into her hair:

“Eyes up here, amor.”

Your New Shared Apartment, Barcelona, Age 21

You’d never thought you could feel so completely at ease in one place.

Your new apartment. A cozy little nest tucked in a quiet street of Barcelona. Felt like everything that mattered wrapped up in four walls. You and Alexia had moved in together a few months ago, and the rhythm of living side by side, sharing stolen breakfasts and late-night playlists, was already becoming your favorite thing.

That night, after a long day of training and grocery runs, you found yourselves tangled on the couch. Half-watching a documentary neither of you really cared about. The windows were open, letting in the faint sounds of the city and the faint scent of jasmine from the balcony.

Alexia was tracing slow circles on your bare skin under your shirt. Her fingers gentle and sure.

“You know,” she said quietly. Eyes locked on your chest, “I could get lost here forever.”

You laughed softly. “You mean my boobs?”

Her gaze flicked up. A smile lighting her face. “Not just your boobs. But yes, your boobs.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth behind the teasing. “They’re just boobs.”

She shook her head. Her touch never faltering. “They’re your boobs. And honestly, they’re incredible.”

Then... withot warning... she shifted closer. Hands moving beneath your shirt. Fingers finding familiar places. She was so gentle it almost didn’t feel like she was doing anything at all. But slowly, a rush of warmth spread through you. The kind that starts deep inside and radiates outward.

You bit your lip. Trying not to make noise. Trying not to let yourself get embarrassed. After all, this was Alexia... the confident captain. The fierce competitor. The woman who’d seen you at your most awkward and still loved every inch of you.

And yet, here you were. On the verge of something you hadn’t expected. Just from her touch on your chest.

When it happened... when your breath hitched and the wave finally crashed... you froze, cheeks burning.

You looked at her. Half-expecting some smug smirk or teasing grin.

But Alexia’s eyes were soft. Mesmerized, really. She wasn’t looking at you like a conqueror. She was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low and gentle.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah... I’m fine. Just... surprised.”

She smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m not surprised. I’m just... amazed. You’re incredible.”

Your embarrassment melted a little under her gaze. Replaced by something warmer. Something like pride and love mixed into one.

“You make me feel safe,” you whispered.

“And you make me feel lucky,” she said, leaning in to kiss you softly.

When you pulled back slightly, catching your breath, you caught her gaze drifting down again. Just for a heartbeat.

You nudged her gently and grinned, “Eyes up here, amor.”

She laughed softly, eyes meeting yours with nothing but love and a little bit of mischief.

“Always,” she promised.

Hospital, Barcelona, Age 24

Cancer wasn’t something you ever thought would touch your life.

Not at 24. Not when you were young, strong, and full of dreams. Playing with Alexia. Planning your future. Laughing over small, silly moments that made life sparkle.

But it did.

You remember the day the doctor told you the diagnosis. A lump found. Biopsies taken. Tests running. The words 'no surgery needed' felt like a fragile thread of hope, but the looming chemo was a storm you had to weather. Weeks of needles. Exhaustion. Nausea. And hair thinning into wispy shadows.

And through it all... Alexia never left your side.

You could barely lift your arms some days. Your body shrinking. Skin pale and stretched over bones that felt unfamiliar. Your breasts... once a source of so much playful attention, the subject of so many loving touches... were now tender and fragile.

But if you thought Alexia’s admiration would waver, you were wrong.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling round of chemo, you sat on the edge of the hospital bed. Drained and fragile. Alexia came in with that quiet smile she always wore when she was trying to be brave for you.

She sat beside you. Fingers threading through your thin hair. Gentle as ever.

“Still mesmerized,” she said softly. Voice almost a whisper.

You blinked. Confused. “By what?”

She looked up. Eyes steady and clear. “By you. All of you. This body, this spirit. You’re still the most incredible woman I know.”

Her hand moved to your chest. Not roughly, but with such tenderness that your breath caught. She traced the outlines of your ribs and collarbone. So softly it felt like a caress more than a touch.

“I love every inch,” she said, voice breaking just a little. “Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re small and scared. You’re still mine.”

You smiled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Heart swelling with a love that felt bigger than any illness.

Alexia leaned down, resting her head lightly against your shoulder and murmured, “Eyes up here, amor.”

You laughed quietly through the tears.

“Always,” you whispered back.

Your Shared Apartment, Barcelona, Age 26

The apartment felt familiar, but brand new.

You’d been here a hundred times. Walked through that doorway with groceries. Training gear. Sunburns, Bruises. Laughter in your chest. But tonight, you walked in wearing a white dress and a gold band on your finger.

Your last name hadn’t changed. But something else had. Everything, in the best way.

Alexia was behind you. Barefoot now. Shoes long abandoned. Her bouquet tossed on the entry table. She was still glowing. Cheeks flushed. Hair undone at the edges from too much dancing. You turned to face her. Your wife now. And it still made your heart skip.

Her hands slipped to your waist, pulling you close. “You looked so beautiful today,” she murmured.

“You looked smug as hell when I cried during my vows,” you teased, resting your forehead against hers.

“I wasn’t smug,” she whispered. Eyes soft. “I was ruined.”

You kissed her then. Deep and sure. The way you only kiss someone who’s seen every version of you. Your strongest. Your sickest. Your silliest. Your most sacred.

Later... with your dress pooled around your ankles and her fingers brushing your skin like a prayer, you reached for her hand and guided it to your left side.

“Wait,” you said. Voice suddenly a little shaky. “I have something for you.”

She blinked. “Here?”

You nodded. Then turned, slowly, baring your left side. Just below your ribcage. Curving around the outer edge of your breast.

There, inked delicately into your skin, was a small but unmistakable mark.

Her initials. A.P. Written in the handwriting you’d memorized from years of notes, love letters, and post-its stuck to your coffee mug. Framed by the tiniest heart, barely more than a breath.

Her mouth opened. But no words came out.

“It’s yours,” you said softly. “This body. This life. All of it. Even the part you always stare at first.”

Alexia laughed then. One hand flying to her face. And you weren’t sure if she was laughing or crying. Maybe both.

She knelt in front of you like it was instinct.

One hand reached up. Cupping your side with a reverence that made your knees weak.

She pressed a kiss to the tattoo. Then another. Then one higher. And higher.

“Of course it’s mine,” she whispered against your skin. “You’ve been mine since we were eighteen and you made fun of me for staring.”

You felt tears prick your eyes. “You never stopped.”

“I never will,” she said, looking up at you like you were made of light.

And then... with a cheeky little smirk curling her lips... her eyes dipped just slightly again.

You raised an eyebrow. “Alexia.”

Her grin widened. “What?”

You narrowed your eyes in mock warning.

Then you said it. The line that had followed you both through years of love, loss, laughter, and everything in between.

“Eyes up here, amor.”

She laughed. You ppulled her up into your arms, and kissed your wife like the whole world had led to this one perfect night.

[nosebleedsturn]

If one more person tells me how to tag my posts I think I’m gonna crash out. The tags are meant to bring awareness to THOSE PEOPLE. I tagged the sturniolo triplets on the “be aware of your sex life” post bc MOST of their fans are young and discovering sex for the first time via older fans. I tagged supernatural and a bunch of other shit because fans will join at young ages and read those fanfics about sex. Sometimes smut fics get BRUTAL especially with characters like Billy Hargrove (stranger things), Billy butcher and soldier boy (from the boys) bc those characters are… intense. And sometimes (speaking from experience) we tend to enjoy those things bc we think we’re supposed to. We think that ‘these guys just like it so I should’ so therefore I AM TALKING TO THEM TY!

“Don’t tag posts under ____ if it’s not what it’s about” I NEVER ONCE ever searched about the topic of that post. So if I hadn’t said anything under that specific tag, they might have never seen it. Might not have anyone to remind them to protect themselves.

You can scroll…

I want to remind all my young and impressionable girlies (age doesn’t matter really), that sex is a big commitment.

Sex: isn’t always fun like writers describe it too be

Sex: contain bad consequences. Like STD’s, unplanned childbirths, abuse.

Boyfriends: aren’t always meant to be trusted, even if you “love him”

Boyfriends: ARE STILL BOYS. They can say whatever they want to push you in the direction to do things for them.

Reading about sex and having sex are two different things. Although I don’t care for the term virginity (social construct to make men look superior and women inferior) you must always, always, always put your self first!

I personally believe teenagers (yes, that includes 18-19) shouldn’t have sex. I’m well aware it ‘takes two to tango’ but it’s usually the women who end up with all the problems.

KEEP YOURSELF SAFE. This is something you should be very selfish about

Edit: and for anyone wondering, no I’m not saying that sex is always bad, I’m saying you need to make the judgement call on whether or not you’re having sex for yourself, or for the other person involved.

[rori-is-writing]

⎯⟢ Life Line ⟣⎯

⟪ ⟨ Ch 1: Fancy Meeting You Here ⟩ ⟫

A The Pitt Reader X Soulmate AU.

Multi-Chapter | Explicit | Dr. Robby x Fem!Reader | 2,110 words ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Summary: You had always wondered what it would be like to meet your soulmate...Yet, of all the scenarios you had dreamt up over the years, meeting your soulmate in the ER as your lifeblood poured out onto the floor was not one of them.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Tags: Age Gap (20+ years), Brief mentions of near-death experience/shooting trauma, Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Soulmates

Read on AO3 | The Pitt Masterlist

[ A/N: Inspired by @i-mushi's wonderful Soulmate AU, Strings That Bind.

For my dear @wisps-writes-fic. Happy Birthday (yes, I know it's not your birthday but I finished early)! I tried so hard to make this a one-shot and failed miserably. So you're getting a multi-chapter fic. Everyone is very upset about this I'm sure. 😂

I would just like to apologize in advance to all medical professionals who read this. I am not a doctor or any kind of medical professional so my knowledge about medical and hospital procedure is limited. Please forgive me. ]

You had always wondered what it would be like to meet your soulmate. 

As a child you’d always assumed it would be like something out of a fairytale. Some dashing faceless person come to sweep you off your feet and battle the monsters under your bed. And later, when you’d grown into a teenager you had begun imagining more realistic—but still romantic—scenarios. A meet-cute in a coffee shop perhaps. Or reaching for the same book in the library. 

Yet, of all the scenarios you had dreamt up over the years, meeting your soulmate in the ER as your lifeblood poured out onto the floor was not one of them. 

“Oh,” you slur when you lock eyes with the man who upends your entire world.  “You’re taller than I thought you’d be…”

It is a feeling like no other. A reordering of the universe. A wild, giddy elation that is headier than drugs and more shocking than a punch to the gut. Like a piece has finally slotted into place in your chest and you can finally breathe normally for the first time in your life. 

He’s handsome, your soulmate. With wide brown eyes and hair that has just started to go gray around the edges. You wonder what he looks like when he smiles. He’s not smiling now though. In fact, he looks positively petrified. You reach out and touch his cheek, inadvertently smearing your blood across his skin—a subconscious sort of claiming if there ever was one. 

“Hey,” you say, a little delirious, as if scolding a toddler. “Turn that frown upside down.” 

And then the blood loss pulls you into its seductive embrace. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It feels as if it’s only moments later that you see him again, though he tells you it’s been hours. 

“You’re lucky to be alive,” he says softly, an agonized look on his face. He sits at your beside, elbows on his knees, hunched over as if the weight of the world were dragging him down. 

You nod at him, not so sure what to say now that blood loss and copious amounts of morphine are no longer loosening your tongue. 

“We nearly…” he trails off, his eyes haunted by some unseen vision. “…I…nearly lost you.” 

You can hear the terror in his voice. The sheer, unadulterated fear of losing his soulmate only moments after finding you. 

“I’m…glad you…didn’t…” you say, your throat scratchy and raw from from what you assume was a tube that had been shoved down there while you were unconscious. 

You move your fingers across the blanket until they brush against his. He stares at them for a beat. Two. Three. And then, slowly, curls his fingers around your own with a gentleness that breaks your heart. 

“So…” you rasp with an awkward smile. “What’s your name?”

Your question must catch him off guard because he suddenly barks out a laugh, and finally—finally!—you see that smile you were so hoping to see when you first met. Somehow, you think, he is even more handsome than before. 

“Michael,” he tells you, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Michael Robinavitch.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You’re not really sure what the protocol for meeting your soulmate is. Are you together now? Should one of you ask the other on a date? Or was it like that one reality show you liked to pretend you didn’t watch where a couple were expected to marry after a week of knowing each other? 

Truthfully, you didn’t actually know all that much about soulmates. They were uncommon enough that you’d never actually met anyone who had one, and the movies made it seem like some fairytale where the couple was swept up into some epic love story where the realities of real life were glossed over entirely. 

Luckily for you, you had more than enough time to figure it out seeing as how you were essentially chained to your hospital bed these days. The one time you tried bringing up going home Michael had looked at you like you had lost your mind. 

“I spent two hours repairing your liver.”

You blink at him, uncomprehending. 

“…Oh…kay? So I’m fine now?”

You certainly don’t feel fine—in fact, you feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck—but you figure that little admission won’t help your case so you choose to leave that tidbit out of your argument. 

As if he can hear your thoughts, he shakes his head with a ‘can you believe this?’ look on his face. 

Wow. Rude. 

“You’re not going anywhere until I say so.” 

You realize with slowly dawning comprehension that your new soulmate has a bossy streak a mile wide. 

How charming. 

(Not.)

There are other things you learn about your soulmate in the following days. He likes Italian sandwiches (delicious). His favorite genre of music is dad rock (you prefer bubblegum pop, much to his dismay). But, most importantly, he is a wizened fifty-three to your paltry twenty-five. Perhaps the vast age gape should bother you—and, in some small ways, it does—but instead you find it oddly…comforting. 

It’s just…nice. Knowing that your soulmate is so grounded and knowledgable. That he has his shit together when you yourself still feel like you’re in that wobbly, awkward stage of life where you have no idea what you’re doing. You may feel like a teenager still playacting at being an adult sometimes but he is a real adult. You bet he even has a retirement portfolio. 

(What must that be like?)

On the flip side, you wonder what he must think of you. What does your mysterious, soft-spoken doctor think of having a soulmate just over half of his age? Do you seem naive to him? Childish? God, you hoped not. 

Eventually a week in, you try to suss the information out of him through careful—i.e. blunderingly obvious—questioning. 

“So,” you say nonchalantly as you watch him squint at your chart on the computer monitor. Technically he isn’t your doctor anymore as you’ve long since been moved upstairs into one of the surgical recovery wings…but that certainly hasn’t stopped him from visiting you every day before, during, and after his shifts to check up on you and critique your care team’s work. 

“Mm?” Michael grunts in acknowledgment, still distracted by whatever he’s reading. 

“What’s your type?”

You see the moment the question finally breaks through his focus because he frowns, eyes flicking to the side to stare at you through those black-framed glasses of his. 

(Have you always been attracted to men with glasses? Or is it just him? Much to think on.)

“My…type.” He doesn’t say it like a question, but like he’s parroting the phrase back to you to make sure that is indeed what you said. 

“Yeah. You know, like some guys like blondes, some like brunettes…” you trail off, urging him to pick up where you’ve left off because this isn’t going nearly how you’d expected. Most men loved talking about themselves. Especially about the kinds of women they were into. It was practically their favorite subject outside of sports and the Roman Empire. 

Or maybe that was just men your age…

What did older men talk about anyway? Stocks? Their aching backs? The AARP? 

Michael just stared at you, a furrow between his brows like he can’t quite figure you out, before turning back to the monitor. 

“Can’t say I have one.” 

Now you’re the one to frown. 

“Everyone has a type.” 

He shrugs. “Not me.” 

“Who was the last person you dated?” 

You can see his jaw working, like he’s fighting a smile—or a grimace. “Have you always been this chatty?”

“It’s not like I have a whole lot else to do in here,” you insist. “There’s only so much daytime TV and TikTok I can consume before I start wanting to grill all the nurses about the local gossip.” 

This is, in fact, true. You’ve probably learned more from the nurses about the inner workings of this hospital than even some of the doctors are privy to. 

“Oh?” He asks, amused. “And, pray tell, what have you learned?” 

“I can’t tell you that,” you say gravely. “I was sworn to secrecy. On pain of death.” 

“Death?” Yep, that’s definitely a smile. “That seems a little extreme. Do I have to fight the nurses?”

“No, because I would never give them up.”

“Good, because if it came down to me and the nurses…my money is on the nurses.” 

You nod sagely. “You’re so wise.”

“Years of experience,” he says, and then frowns—as if only just now realizing the age gap between you. 

Ah. So he hadn’t thought about it. Well, in fairness, he has been very busy lately. Poor thing. Taking pity on him, you reach over and pat his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry,” you tell him sagely, suddenly feeling much more calm about this now that you know he’s just as hopelessly in over his head as you are. “We’ll figure it out.” 

He stares at you, long and hard, before finally nodding—like he’s too afraid to voice whatever he’s feeling. 

And later, after he’s left for the night and you’re settling into a doze, you suddenly remember that he never actually answered your question. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Who are you?”

You blink awake to a strange new doctor scrolling through your chart on the monitor beside your bed. A doctor that is, distinctly, neither your usual doctor nor your soulmate. He looks around Michael’s age—middle-aged or close to it—with soft curling hair that is almost as much silver as it is brown. He turns to face you, seeming surprised to find you awake. 

“Doctor Abbot. I’m from downstairs. Robby asked me to check up on you.”

“Robby?” You ask groggily. While you’re grateful for the drugs that knock you out every night, you’re not so thrilled about how lethargic and fuzzy they make you feel every time you wake up. 

“Michael,” he corrects. “Your…well…you know.” 

Yes. You certainly do know. 

“Mm,” you say instead, as good an acknowledgment as any. “Is he busy or something?” 

“Surgery,” he explains simply before turning back to your chart. “It’s a complicated one so it might be a bit.”

“I see.”

You wonder then if this will be what the rest of your life will be like. Waiting around for your more important other half as he saves lives and is late to see you. But almost as soon as you think it you feel guilty. Of course whoever is being operated on takes precedence over you. You don’t get to monopolize the man just because you’re bored and have gotten greedy with his time. 

Ugh, you needed to get the hell out of this place. 

You eye Doctor Abbot then, wondering if he’ll be more open about your care than Michael is. 

“When do you think I’ll be able to go home?” 

His eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t say anything, just scrolls through your chart. 

“It says here they’ll likely discharge you in a week if you continue the way you have.” 

You make a face. “Ugh.”

“I didn’t realize I was such terrible company,” he says, lips quirking into small smile. 

“No offense, but I hate hospitals.” 

“This might surprise you, but most people do.” 

“I just…feel like I’ve been in this bed forever,” you complain, the floodgates finally bursting open after a week of your soulmate’s constant hovering. “I feel useless.”

You can feel tears of frustration beginning to well at the corners of your eyes, which only makes you more upset. You’ve been independent since nearly as long as you could remember. You’re not used to just sitting around. And yet all it had taken to derail your entire life was some dumb fucking idiot with a pile of guns who probably spent way too much time on 4chan or 8chan or whatever other creepy website weirdos like him hung out on. 

It just…it wasn’t fair. 

“Hey,” Doctor Abbot says softly, attention now turned fully to you. His eyes are brown, you realize. Just like your soulmate’s. “You’ll be home before you know it. You’ve been doing real well. Your chart says you’re healing on schedule. We’re only keeping you here a little longer because we need to make sure your liver will be alright once you’re on your own. Okay?” 

You sniff, feeling simultaneously pathetic and reassured. He squeezes your shoulder, a strange mirror to you comforting Michael only the day before.

“We’ll get you through this kid. Just let us help you.” 

You nod. 

“Okay.” 

Next Chapter | Life Line Masterlist

Thanks for reading! 🩵

If you would like to be added (or removed) to this or future tag lists, please let me know!

Tag List: @li22ie2017, @lonelyheartsm, @pocket-of-possibilities, @steviebbboi, @wisps-writes-fic

[thealteredaltar]

Pick-A-Pile Tarot Reading: Messages from Aphrodite ❤️

Welcome to the first Tarot reading on my blog! Today, we are going to see what Aphrodite has to say to you. And don’t think that because you are getting a message from the goddess of love that it will necessarily be about love. It might be but it could also be about anything she thinks she needs to draw your attention to. So, pick the pile you feel most drawn to and see what messages she wants to give you.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

///////

Pile 1

Ten of Swords (reversed) /// Four of Cups (reversed) /// Four of Pentacles /// Two of Pentacles

I’m feeling a lot of emotion immediately from this pile. I want to give you a hug and so does Aphrodite. I can feel her embracing you right now. You have been through some difficult times lately and part of that has been because of your mindset. You were extra hard on yourself and stuck in negative thinking. But, don’t beat yourself up for that, too! It happens. I also think you were feeling stuck on certain things that happened in the past that you could not change. You had a really hard time letting a particular disappointment go. This feels like it was relationship-oriented. Maybe a friendship that went sour or romantic situation that did not go as expected. It really wounded you and closed you off for a while.

This also made you feel like a mess and could have even made a mess of your life. Maybe someone who hurt you emotionally also screwed you over financially/professionally? Either that or you have just been feeling very financially restricted lately, which only made your emotional matters worse. In any case, you are absolutely turning things around. Aphrodite wants you to know that not only is your life on the upswing but you are feeling more secure and stable within yourself. Maybe you needed to see that, no matter who or what you lose, you will always have yourself. I feel like you have been loving yourself more or you’re on your way to doing so. This is definitely something that pleases Aphrodite! Even if things aren’t where you really want them to be financially right now, that’s not the point. In fact, the whole point of this cycle may be to find value and security in things outside of your finances or what you achieve. Getting your act together is not just a practical thing. It’s an emotional and internal process, as well. (There is also a message here to try something new in terms of income or to experiment with a side hustle. You need to change up your approach to moneymaking in some way now to see results)

Pile 2

Nine of Wands (reversed) /// Two of Wands /// Eight of Cups /// Queen of Swords

Whew, okay. The message here is loud and clear. This is definitely love-related and I think it is about someone that you have left in the past. Well, you have left them in the past but I don’t think they have let go of you. This may be a situation where you still feel them pulling on your energy a lot. It is definitely giving “soul connection”, however you may label or define that. But, Aphrodite is saying that these soul connections do not always necessarily have to work out. Sometimes, it is the person you’re meant to be with. Sometimes, the point of the connection is to serve as a learning experience. Maybe you learned all you could from this situation. You saw not only the need to walk away from this person but the patterns you need to leave behind, as well, through whatever past choices you made here.

Ultimately, you know what is best for you. Aphrodite is urging you to think clearly and tap into your Queen of Swords side. Do not easily give into sentiment here or even the idea that you and this person are destined to be together. I feel like most of you have already processed this and are over it. But, your person, however, is not. They keep hanging on while you have let go. A key message here from Aphrodite is that if someone only makes themselves available after you are no longer available, and after they have had more than enough time to step up and change, they probably aren’t the one for you. A bit of affectionate tough love from the goddess here. But, she is very truthful when it comes to these matters. She wants you to be truthful with yourself. Don’t settle for less! The crazy thing is that I get this visual of you running after this person and them heading in the opposite direction. Now that you’re going in an opposite direction, they’re running after you. And no, sorry, I am not referencing “chaser-runner” energy. I personally don’t like that. Some of you may believe in that but please recognize how toxic that can be. Even if you give this person one more chance, there’s a possibility that they may, once again, run off or shut down now that you want them again. You have free will. The choice is yours. Just make sure you are choosing what you really deserve.

Pile 3

Three of Wands (reversed) /// The Star /// The Wheel of Fortune /// Nine of Pentacles (reversed)

It seems like you are feeling really frustrated right now. “Stagnant” is the word. It is like you can picture such a bright future for yourself and so many possibilities but you’re still very much stuck where you are. For a lot of you, this has to do with moving somewhere new, like a new city or even country. Specifically, I get the sense that you may be living somewhere because it is necessary on a practical level. You might be living with one or both of your parents or just in an uncomfortable situation that is affordable and hard to get out of. Your relationship with whoever you’re living with could be toxic. If they are a relative or friend, you may not feel too appreciated or loved by them. Aphrodite wants you to know that you can turn to her at any time for that affection you need. She loves you and I sense that some of you may work with her or be connected to her. If not, this may be the sign you need to build a bond with her because she could be a really helpful guide to you.

If no one is making you feel special or seen right now, she wants you to know that you are special and she sees you. She is also saying that everything is going to be alright. You are just in your “winter season” at the moment. But, “spring” is on its way for you! Things are going to start changing very soon. What will accelerate this process will be your confidence. Have confidence in yourself, your abilities and your future. I can sense you probably are naturally confident but this current circumstance has chipped away at it somewhat. Aphrodite is recommending you do some affirmations in the mirror to feel better and improve your outlook. You will not be stuck here forever, whether that “here” is a mentality or physical place. Many of you may also be struggling financially or not as independent as you’d like to be (especially if you are living at home). Know that this does not define you and you have plenty of things to feel confident about. I think many of you have some sort of creative talent or spiritual gift you want to share with the public and are feeling held back, either by limited resources or your own doubts. Just know that this endeavor will pay off; in a major way, for many of you. It may even be the thing that gets you out of this rut. But, in order to accomplish this, you have to believe in yourself. And when you’re struggling with that, turn to spirituality or to guides like Aphrodite for help.

If you enjoyed this reading and would like to show a little appreciation via donation, you can visit my Ko-Fi page ❤️🌹

[rhettrosunsets]

Dog Days Are Over? Bob Floyd X Fem!Reader

Pairing: Robert (Bob) Floyd X F! Reader, Natasha (Phoenix) Trace X OC!F

Category: Fluff! Yearning, Longing, Stolen Glances, Brushing Of Hands One Too Many Time To Be Platonic!

Masterlist

Summary: You didn’t expect the Navy to ever need a vet tech, but when they launched a new mental health initiative featuring therapy dogs, well.. you jumped at the chance to join. You liked animals more than people, and you always said the way someone treated a dog said everything you needed to know about them.

Which is why your eyes locked on him that first day.

And just like that, you knew you were gone.

Over weeks of dog walks, shared laughs, belly rubs, and stolen glances, something soft starts to bloom. Bob’s a bit shy, you’re a little guarded and hurt from past people, and well, Daisy the golden retriever is completely convinced that it’s her new job to get you together. And just maybe, you're not the only couple falling into something sweet over the time of the program, because Maya’s been looking at Phoenix a little differently, and Phoenix is definitely looking back.

Word count: 7,241

Warnings: Mentions of reader being socially awkward around people, inaccurate depictions of Vet-Techs, Their Jobs and therapy dog training. No description of reader outside of Bob brushing a piece of hair behind the readers ear, mention of reader having shitty-first dates (none are written out), readers overthinking and longing. No use of Y/N. Maya and Reader being chaotic with each other.

Notes: Omg, Omg, Omg! I’ve been so excited to get this one out, I’ve had the idea for this for a few days (before I decided to bite the bullet and create this blog) I hope you enjoy this and have as much fun reading it, as I did writing it!!

You never expected the Navy to need a vet tech. 

But when they decided to announce a new mental health initiative, and a new training program for therapy dogs, you jumped at the chance to broaden your resume, always being one to try to get as much experience and interaction with animals as you could.

You weren’t military and you never had an interest in it, being a bookworm your entire childhood, and often declaring that you liked animals more than you could any human. You knew animals, you knew their signs, their tells, and you learned how to gain their trust and what a rewarding experience that could be as you bonded. Because of that, you also knew that the way someone treated a dog said a lot about them.

Which is why your eyes followed him that first morning.

Tall. Glasses. Fluffy Hair. Soft-spoken. All nerves, but never forgetting his manners, treating each of your staff members with respect, never letting his soft quirked smile drop. He stood apart from the other pilots, gently rubbing the small golden retriever’s head while the others jostled and joked. You caught the way he murmured, “Good girl” with a quiet reverence, and gentle tone, like the Golden Retriever was royalty. You wished someone would talk to you like that.

“That’s Bob Floyd,” your coworker, and best friend Maya says standing next to you, her gaze watching the way you’re looking at him so intently, like he’s holding the sun. “They call him ‘Bob’ and that’s his callsign as well. He’s like, super smart. A bit shy, but one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet. He's Phoenix's WSO.” She replies, nodding her head to the female aviator crouched beside a German Shepard, grinning as she held up a chew toy.

You nod, your gaze still focused on the shy aviator in front of you. “Uhuh.” You mumble out softly, still distracted, before snapping your focus back to Maya. “How do you know so much about them anyways?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, intrigue evident in your tone.

Maya stutters softly, “I-I just do my research before we come to these things.” 

You didn’t press Maya for more. Not because you weren’t curious, you a hundred precent knew there was more behind her shitty reply, but because Bob was now looking in your direction, and even though you weren’t the one calling the orders, or running the show he smiled at you in a way that made you feel like you were the only one in the room.

Your heart did a little somersault, as you averted your gaze feeling the heat rise on your cheeks, before focusing back onto Bob and the Small golden retriever. Daisy, the golden retriever in question, nudged her head beneath Bob’s hand again, clearly as taken with him as you were. The little dog’s tail thumped against the tile floor with pure joy as she nipped at his hand softly, letting out happy barks. You couldn’t help smiling as you watched the gentle interaction. Bob’s smile widened slightly as Daisy jumped, trying to put her paws on his chest.. It was the kind of look that didn’t try too hard, it just was. And it made something twist quietly inside your chest.

“Looks like she chose him,” Maya murmured near your ear, folding her arms as she watched Daisy settle practically into Bob’s lap, like she belonged there. 

You didn’t even argue.

By the end of the day, Daisy had refused to interact with anyone else, including a very, very, patient senior chief who tried to bribe her with treats, something the dog had never ignored before. Bob didn’t seem to know what to do with the attention, he kept glancing at the other handlers like someone was going to tell him he wasn’t allowed to be there, or that he needed to let Daisy interact with the others for this first day of the program. But when you came over with a clipboard and a shy, yet welcoming smile, he stood up so fast he startled Daisy, who peered up with him in confusion, and a bit of annoyance.

“Sorry” he said immediately. “Did I-? S-Should I move?”

You shook your head immediately. “Not at all. She likes you. That’s kind of the point of this whole thing.” you say with a shy chuckle, keeping your eyes firmly planted on Daisy, afraid to look in his eyes and say something embarrassing in front of the aviator.

He glanced down at Daisy, who flopped back down onto the grass, with a soft huff, her head resting on her paws, upset she’s no longer the focal point of his attention. Bob smiled again. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s the sweetest one, I love getting to take her for walks,” you said, scribbling his name on the volunteer list. “She’s never been paired up with anyone before, she’s brand new to our program, only a year old, I've just been gettin to know her myself lately. You’re amazing with her, like truly, a natural.”

Bob’s ears turned a little pink at your soft praise. “Not really sure I’m right, for this whole thing.” He says waving his hands gently.

You looked up at him then, meeting his eyes properly for the first time, and you feel like you can see his entire soul being laid before you in that moment. His eyes are kind, thoughtful, like the color of lake water under morning sun, a soft blue that seems like it could solve any of your problems before you even knew what they were.

“You are,” you said in a firm voice, before you could think better of it. 

His eyebrows lifted slightly, and then, he laughed. A low, warm sound that made your stomach flutter. And from that moment, you knew this was going to be a problem if your almost wobbling knees had anything to say about it.

The next few weeks passed in a rhythm you hadn’t realized you’d been missing in your life.

Every morning, the therapy dog teams gathered on the base's green patch. It was quiet enough there, with room to run or sit. Bob came to every session, always with Daisy, always on time, and always nothing but respectful. His first few days, he trailed behind a bit, fumbling with Daisy’s leash, or trying to make himself seem sparse. But by the second week, you noticed he walked with more purpose, he seemed to become more comfortable in the environment and Daisy trotted beside him, tail high and always wagging, like she was proud to be his.

You found yourself looking forward to those mornings more than anything else. The sun, the dogs, the sea breeze, and..well Bob. The man who always greeted you with a quiet “Morning” and a smile that made it feel like he meant it, like he actually cared.

He wasn’t loud like the others, Rooster who often cracked jokes with the handlers, Hangman flirted shamelessly with Maya (who, to her credit, usually shut it down with an eye roll and a snarky comment immediately, often stating the dogs are more well mannered than him, but never holding any real malice), and even Phoenix made herself known with casual charm and easy going confidence that made you intently listen to every word she speaks.

But Bob, well..Bob was soft. He listened, he always took his time, never rushing you when he needed to ask you a question, waiting to make sure you weren’t swamped with other people asking you things. He always remembered to ask about a dog’s progress or if one had been limping the day before, he read every handout you gave him, probably twice to his credit, and when he spoke, it was because he’d actually thought about what he wanted to say to you, not just talking mindlessly to fill the silence.

It made you feel seen in a way you weren’t used to. 

One afternoon, after a long walk around the far end of the base trail you took with Bob and Daisy, Bob slowed beside you and cleared his throat, as his eyes gently traced your figure, taking in how you interact with Daisy.

“Hey, Is it okay if I ask you something kind of personal? Y-You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable” He rambles softly, not wanting you to feel any type of pressure. You paused, letting Daisy sniff at a bush before nodding. “Go for it, lieutenant” you say with a shy smile.

He hesitated a bit, but finally asked “Have you always worked with animals?”

You blinked, and then smiled wider, not used to people asking about your work much, oftentimes becoming bored when you ramble on excitedly about what you do. “Yep!, Pretty much since high school, I volunteered at a shelter the moment I turned sixteen. I just fell in love with the way I could understand the animals, how they made me feel..seen? With animals there’s no undertones, or missed signals that I think about when I can’t sleep and end up overthinking all night. They trust me, and I trust them, you just have this bond with them that's so special to me. I started vet school a few years ago, and have been working with therapy dogs ever since. I’ve always been more comfortable around animals than people.”

Bob gave you a small smile, his blue eyes softly running over your face, admiring the way you seemed to light up when you got to talk about your job. “I get that.”

“Yeah?” you ask looking up from where Daisy is trying to chase her own shadow, to meet his gentle eyes.

“I was, well I was pretty quiet growing up. Still am, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It took me a while to find people who didn’t try to change that fact about me.”

You watched the way he looked at Daisy when he was talking, and how his eyes protectively monitored to make sure she wasn’t near any danger, “Well, Daisy clearly thinks you’re perfect the way you are.” You reply in a soft tone. 

Bob looked down at the golden retriever sprawled in the grass, tongue out, blissfully lounging in the soft rays of the sun. “Same can be said for you,” he replies quietly, his hand accidentally grazing yours as he reached for where Daisy’s leash layed. And your heart did another one of those flips, feeling like it was going to leap right out of your chest. 

It was this day that you truly felt something change between you and Bob Floyd.

The longer the program went on, the more Daisy seemed to view her role less as “emotional support therapy dog” that she was supposed to be training for, and more like “matchmaker enthusiast.” 

It wasn’t subtle, in the way she’d wedge herself between you and Bob just long enough to force you guys to accidentally nudge your hands together, or she’d refuse to sit unless you both gave her attention at the same time. Once, during a group walk, she sat down stubbornly and refused to move until Bob offered you his hand to help you step over a leftover puddle blocking your path from the storm that had happened the night before. She trotted off, pulling Bob along as he held her leash, her tail wagging after that, tongue out, as if she’d just conducted her plan seamlessly.

Bob didn’t seem to notice at first, at least not consciously. But you began to catch the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, and you definitely noticed the way his fingers brushed yours more and more when handing off the leashes or while reaching for the same toy, the way you’d both linger for a second too long to be considered platonic.

You found yourself beginning to linger after the dogs were back in their kennels for the day, helping Bob brush out Daisy’s gold coat, even though your shift technically ended fifteen minutes earlier, you never minded, in fact, it became one of the most cherished parts of your day. You liked hearing him talk, even when it was about the most random, and mundane things. You loved hearing about his favorite movies (mostly classics, some you hadn’t seen, to which he proclaimed that you had to watch). His weirdly detailed knowledge of birds and bird calls that he would show you, and even demonstrate for you, always making you laugh on the long walks you took, and how he was always, always the last to leave any room because he didn’t want to seem rude.

That last one made you smile, because of course he didn’t.

You only had a few more weeks left of the program, a fact that had been eating at you, the knowledge of the fact that you’d no longer be seeing the Naval Officer who weaved his way into your heart everyday, and that your routine that you’ve picked up and come to love, would soon be gone, left to just your memories.

While you were packing up your bag after a session one morning, Bob suddenly asked out of seemingly nowhere 

“Do you want to get lunch?” Bob’s voice had been so casual, so soft, that you almost didn’t hear him, your brain seemingly short-circuiting at the question. You looked up, blinking a few times, before realizing you needed to respond, “Lunch?”

“Yeah. Like, at that little sandwich place near the beach. If you're not busy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s okay if not. I just thought... We talk a lot here. Maybe we could talk somewhere that doesn’t smell like dog shampoo, get to know each other outside of this?”

You laughed softly, shyly averting your gaze, with a gentle shrug of your shoulders. “I like the smell of dog shampoo.”

He smiled, glancing down at Daisy, then back at you. “Me too now, But still.”

“Okay,” you said, responding, finding the courage as your heart flutters, feeling like it may leap out of your chest. “Lunch sounds great.” 

The sandwich shop wasn’t anything fancy. A hole-in-the-wall spot with chipped yellowed counters, sun-faded menus, and an old vibe telling you it hadn’t been renovated in years. But the outdoor tables were shaded, the lemonade was fresh and had real lemon slices in it, and the sandwich was one of the best you’d ever had.

You talked for three hours.

About everything, about nothing. He told you about flight school, about growing up in Montanna as a kid and why he chose the Navy, he talked about getting picked on for his name, about the day he realized that being quiet didn’t mean being invisible, and about how the daggers had become like a family to him. You told him about your old rescue dog, the one that made you fall in love with veterinary work that you had convinced your parents to adopt when you turned seventeen, promising to pay for everything the dog could ever need, seeing the old dog and just wanting to give it somewhere where it could be loved and cherished. You talked about how shy you were growing up, always being told you needed to speak but, and how you were often described as ‘a delight to have in class, but needs to participate more.’ You told him about wanting to open your own practice someday, something small and cozy, where animals could be safe and taken care of, where each animal got the treatment they truly deserved, and felt like they were loved and cared for.

When the sun dipped low enough to cast a golden light hue across the tabletop, you realized you hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time, your cheeks hurting from how long your face had seemed locked into a smile. Time felt like it didn’t exist when you were together, and that was new to you, it scared you, but it intrigued you.

“I like talking to you,” Bob said as he walked you back to your car, “It’s easy.” He says softly before opening your car door after you unlock the car.

You peer up at him from your seat, heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah. It is.” you say with a soft smile.

You didn’t kiss that day. But when he touched your arm lightly and said, “See you tomorrow?” Before closing your car door, it felt like a promise.

The next morning Maya was waiting with a smirk so smug it would become permanent if she tried any harder. “Well?!” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, what?” You ask softly as you two begin to walk towards the building.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know Bob asked you out yesterday! Phoenix told me he was going to. I think he practiced in the hangar for, like, three hours or something to get the courage to do it.” 

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah.” Maya grinned, striking a similar appearance to the cheshire cat. “Apparently Rooster walked in on him reciting how to ask you out to lunch.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s not true.”

“It’s absolutely true. And it’s adorable! You deserve someone like him. Your prior experience with men has just been depressing!” You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were warm. “We just got lunch.”

Maya’s eyes sparkled. “Mmhm. And I just ‘accidentally’ keep running into Phoenix every time she’s off-duty.” Your lips parted in realization. “Wait. You and Phoenix?” 

“Working on it,” Maya said casually, like it wasn’t the most exciting thing you’d heard in weeks.

You grin as you slap her shoulder softly. “You absolute flirt! Why didn’t you tell me?” You exclaim in shock, walking after her.

She winks softly, as she turns back to you. “Takes one to know one. You should ask Bob to dinner, you deserve to be happy, and he would make you happy.” 

You shrug softly as you open the door to walk into the make-shift kennel set up area that had been made for the program. “Maybe..” 

A few hours later during a particularly long training session, Daisy decided she was done with subtlety, she was going to take action. Daisy sat obediently for about ten seconds, then stood up, turned around, and trotted straight over to Bob, who was standing beside you and flopped onto her side between your feet, rolled over, and let out a loud, dramatic whine, gently pushing her paw up in the air towards the two of you.

You both laughed at the small golden retrievers' antics “I swear she’s trying to get me fired,” you murmured, with a soft shake of your head. 

“She’s very committed to her role,” Bob said solemnly

 And then, without really thinking, you reached down to scratch behind her ears, except Bob’s hand was already there.

Your fingers touched, but neither of you moved, as time seemed to completely stop as his pinky brushed yours again, tentative. And when you didn’t pull away, he let his whole hand shift, warm against yours, as he intertwined your fingers softly, away from the peering glances of your co-workers.

Still bent over, the dog between you, both of you looking anywhere but at each other, you whispered, “You want to come over for dinner?” in a tone so quiet, Bob could’ve missed it, he looks up, startled at how bold you became in that moment, but his lips quickly quirking up into a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that.”

You spent most of the afternoon overthinking absolutely everything after you arrived home.

You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t a true date, just dinner, just a friend, just someone you worked with who had taken you out to lunch. But then you remembered the way his hand had felt brushing yours, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you always making sure his tone was gentle with you as if to not scare you off, The way you caught him looking at you sometimes, like he didn’t know if you were real or not, and like every moment he needed to soak you up, like you’d disappear.

So yeah. It was a date, it was a date you were freaking out, you didn’t do this. You didn’t do dates like this, you went on shitty first dates and then would go home and declare you were just going to live life happily with your animals, while drinking a glass of wine and watching reruns old of tv-shows while you called Maya, ranting about what went wrong this time. You were, to put it lightly, freaking out, and out of your element.

You vacuumed the floors, even though you knew Bob wouldn’t notice, you suddenly decided that you needed to change the throw pillows on your couch, deciding that the ones you’ve always had on the couch suddenly just weren't the right color anymore. You changed your outfit three times and ended up back in the first one, jeans and a soft sweater, cozy and low-pressure, declaring to yourself that if he can’t appreciate you in something simple, then he’s not the one. You tried to cook something simple. A simple spaghetti, with roasted vegetables and garlic bread. It turned into a full-scale operation when you realized you didn’t know if Bob liked mushrooms or not.

You were still hovering near the oven, trying to figure out what to order if dinner is an absolute disaster when he knocked, trying to calm yourself down and convince your nervous system that this wasn’t a life or death situation, you wiped your hands on a dish towel and opened the door to find him standing there with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a charming bouquet of grocery store flowers in the other. His hair was slightly windswept and his glasses a little fogged from the cooler night air, blowing from the beach just a few miles away

 “Hey,” he said, smiling nervously, his soft lips curled up into a gentle expression “I wasn’t sure what wine to bring, so I called Phoenix, and she said, quote, ‘It’s not a test, Bob, just don’t bring boxed wine.’ So, this is what we ended up with.”

You laughed, a real laugh, not one of the fake laughs you oh-so often have to do on your dates. You take the bottle and the flowers with a warmth that rose all the way to your ears, “You passed with flying colors, Lieutenant.”

 He exhaled softly, visibly relaxing as he stepped inside, seeing that you liked the flowers. “And, um, Daisy approved this shirt, had to ask her opinion before I left today, and she let out a happy bark. So I'm assuming that means she liked it.” He said as he gestured to his navy blue button down that was slightly wrinkled, in a charming way.

“She has excellent taste, but we already knew that.” You say with a widening smile. You placed the flowers in a jar on your windowsill and poured the wine, handing him a glass as he took in your kitchen like it was something sacred, He looked so at ease, yet like this moment meant something truly sincere to him. Getting to see all the parts of you that nobody else does, the knick-knacks you have set up around the kitchen, the themed salt and pepper shakers you have, the goofy photos you have of family and friends that line your walls. He was getting to see the parts of you that not many do, and that made his chest tighten with a feeling of want, to be able to see you like this everyday, and have it be photos of you two together lining the walls someday.

The food turned out surprisingly well. He took a second helping, complimented your garlic bread like it was gourmet and made from scratch, and insisted on helping clear the table afterward, before standing next to you, while you guys did the dishes, with him washing them, and you drying them, before he insisted he’d put them away, and that you should go sit on the couch and relax, as ‘payment for dinner.’ It was something so domestic, something that felt so right, that you couldn’t help but acknowledge butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

After finishing the dishes, you ended up next to each other on the couch, the wine glasses forgotten on the coffee table, some movie playing lowly in the background as you two talked, going on and on, before you reached the topic of beloved Daisy.

“Daisy seems happier when we all go on walks together, I try to take her myself, but she whines the whole time like something’s wrong, she never used to do that before.” You tell Bob softly.

He shrugs with a smile as he looks at you intently, “I just think she’s happier when we're together, like a little team.” He says

You giggle at him calling you guys a team, tucking your feet beneath you on the couch. “She’s pretty fond of you, it was like from the moment she first saw you she knew that she was gonna be yours for the program.”

He looked at you, and not just a glance, but the kind of look that tells you that he sees you, like he understands you and everything that you are.

“I’m pretty fond of you.” he says, his voice a little low, a bit uncertain, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and it just blurted out without permission.

Your breath catches in your throat, a soft gasp escaping you, as you shift slightly closer, your knees brushing his, as you look up to meet his wide gaze, like he’s afraid of what you might say. “I’m really, really, glad you came tonight Bob.”

“I almost didn’t,” he admitted. “I sat in the car for, like, five minutes trying to talk myself out of being weird about it.”

You laughed quietly, the sound shaky in your chest as you feel your heart beating a million miles a minute. “And?”

“And, well, then I remembered how you look when you smile at Daisy, the way you sound when you’re talking about something you love, the way you light up when people ask you questions about the animals, the way your hand feels against mine when I brush against it, and how that makes me feel, so I figured I’d rather risk being weird and messing this up, than to not come at all.”

Your heart twists at his confession, pounding away in your chest, as you softly respond “You’re not weird, Bob, and you're not off putting, not to me.” 

He looks at you, eyes searching yours like they hold all the answers he’ll ever need. “Not even a little?”

You shake your head desperately, trying to tell him how you feel, the way he makes your heart feel like it's going to leap out of your chest, the way that he takes care of you without even knowing it, the way he makes you..feel like you, and how you never have to fake being yourself around him, because he brings you the real you out, and doesn’t push it back in, like so many others have done to you before.

 “You’re just..good.” You muster out softly, looking into his baby blue eyes, hoping you convey what needs to be said, when you can’t find the words.

 He reaches up, slow and deliberate, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered a second longer than they needed to, your breath hitching in your throat at the action, and when he leaned in, it wasn’t hurried or unsure, It was gentle and soft, just like his soul. 

The kiss was soft, warm, and a bit clumsy in the best way. It's like neither of you knew quite how to go slowly because you’d been waiting for this longer than you realized, the kiss felt special, it felt like you two, with no other way to describe it because simply, you. 

When you finally pulled away, panting quietly as you smile against his lips, he whispered, “I really like you.” 

You rest your forehead against his, before grabbing his hand, intertwining your fingers and responding, “I really like you too, Bob.”

The day after dinner felt different.

Not in a huge, fireworks, sparks flying, Nicholas Sparks romance kind of way. But in the way Bob smiled at you when you arrived at the base that morning, like he was carrying a little secret only the two of you knew about. And In the way Daisy practically dragged him toward you, running as fast as her paws could take her, like she’d been counting the minutes since you last saw her.

“Morning,” he said, voice low and full of something that made your stomach flutter, and your knees wobble. “Morning,” you echoed, biting back a grin, as you bent down to gently scratch Daisy behind the ears, laughing at her soft barks.

Maya clocked it instantly, She waited until Bob had walked away to go handle something Daisy along in tow, before sidling up next to you and whispering, “You’re glowing so much you’re practically radioactive! What happened?”

You tried to play it cool, but immediately failed, turning to look at Maya with a big dopey grin on your face, that couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. “We had dinner.”

“Dinner,” she repeated, slowly, with a raised eyebrow, seeming like she was waiting for something far more dramatic than that. “And?”

“And.. and we kissed.” You gushed out softly, trying to keep your voice quiet. Maya squealed so loudly it came out like a squeak. Phoenix, from across the yard, looked over, a concerned look on her face as she looked at the two of you, before Maya gave her a thumbs-up so casually it was almost suspicious.

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you two finally..? Ya know?”

Maya blinked. “What?” 

You roll your eyes, “You know what Maya, You and Phoenix, are you dating yet?” 

Maya stands up, turning to walk away, yelling. “I plead the fifth.” As you shake your head softly, hoping that they get together, knowing how much Maya truly likes phoenix, even if she hasn’t vocalized it yet.

Dating Bob was like learning a new language, it was quiet, intentional, and oh-so tender at all times. You texted more now, little things at first, things like a photo of Daisy with her nose buried in a tennis ball bin with a funny caption, or a link to a spotify playlist of your combined favorite songs to listen to when you walk daisy together that Bob had created for you two. Or one of your favorites, a picture of his hand brushing against yours during a walk that Maya took and sent him before you had started dating, that made you smile like an idiot in the middle of your shift.

He was thoughtful in ways you weren’t used to, he remembered that you liked your coffee with almond milk most days, and the exact order you get when you aren’t feeling your best and need that extra pick-me-up. He remembers that you hate when people wear cologne that smells like cleaning products and are so strong you can smell them from far away, as they give you a headache. He remembered your favorite restaurants and you order at each of them so he can go pick you up lunch and surprise you with it, and the way you would gush over what types of coffee he just had to try, and even if he didn’t like them, he never would tell you that, as just getting to spend time with you was enough, the coffee becoming irrelevant to if he had a good time or not. 

Bob didn’t try to fill silences with mindless conversation, instead, he just existed beside you, solid and steady incase you needed him, always being there for you to lean on if things got hard. He was always reaching a hand out to open your door first before you could even think about touching the handle, and he would gently guide his hand to your low back to lead you in front of him when you entered a room, his touch always soft, delicate and warm. Then it was the way he always made sure you were on the inside of the sidewalk when you guys would walk Daisy never once breaking that rule, and always keeping his arm on either your low back or around your shoulders.

But then it was the way he always carried extra gum of the flavor you liked, and your favorite chapstick around with him at all times. And when he saw the wide smile on your face, and the brightening of your eyes when he first handed you that chapstick when you complained your lips were feeling chapped, he knew he was in deep.

But the night he knew you were absolutely the one was when you immediately moved into the middle seat of the bench seat in his truck to sit next to him, when he dropped you off after a date one night, claiming you wanted one last kiss for the evening, but really just wanting to spend more time with him, he vowed from that movement on that he knew you were the one for him, forever and always.

The first time you held his hand in public with everyone around was during a group dog walk, no one said anything. No one felt they had to. Maya gave you a quiet little nod across the trail, Phoenix smirked and pretended not to notice as she walked close to Maya, her own hand often grazing Maya’s as she blushed and answered phoenix’s questions, while Rooster high-fived Hangman, telling him he owed him $20, and that he knew it all along.

Bob looked at you in that moment like he was the luckiest man alive.

One Saturday, the week the program was meant to finish up, you spent the entire afternoon together off-base, you’d decided to make the most of it and you drove to a quiet coastal trail with Daisy in the back seat, her head sticking out the window, tongue flapping in the wind, pure joy evident as she lets out little barks of contentment.

Bob brought a backpack full of snacks, drinks, a blanket, and even a thermos of coffee he made just the way you liked it. You found a quiet bluff overlooking the ocean and laid in the sun while Daisy nosed around happily, sniffling the fresh ocean air, as you and Bob laid together, admiring the view.

“You ever think about the future?” you asked lazily, sunglasses slipping down your nose, as you peered up at your Boyfriend, seeing his hair get blown softly by the coastal breeze as you reach up with your hand and softly run your fingers through it. Bob shifted onto his elbow to look down at you, so he could see your face better. “Sometimes.”

“Does it scare you?” You ask softly. He thought about it, before shaking his head. “It used to. Not so much now.”

“Really?” You ask in a gentle questioning tone, “Why’s that?”

“I think it just depended who was in it, that’s what made me so nervous, but knowing what I have now, i’m not afraid anymore” He says so calmly like he didn’t just make your stomach burst into butterflies. Your heart squeezed tightly, as you leaned over and kissed him, slow and soft, wrapping your arms around his neck. When you pulled back, he looked dazed, with a soft smile on his face, like maybe he’d just fallen out of the sky and landed in a dream. “I’m in it,” you said quietly, making sure he understood how much you meant what you were saying. “If you want me to be, I'm here.” 

He nodded, his throat closing softly, as his eyes fill with tears that he blinks away quickly, as he manages to say. “I really, really do. You and Daisy, I don’t know how, but you two are my family, it’s like we're meant to be one. I want both my girls in my life” 

You didn’t have words for the warmth that bloomed in your chest at that, but the way you slid your hand into his said everything you needed it to in that moment, and the kiss he gave you next only solidified it, as you hear Daisy happily barking at a bird, and the waves crashing against the rocks in the background, nothing seeming to matter except you two in that moment.

The therapy dog program was wrapping up its first run, and it was sort of bittersweet. You'd come here to learn new things, to gain more real world experience, and to pad your resume up. But you’d also found something you didn’t know you were missing, A quiet man with careful hands and a heart that surprised you daily, a man who took care of you in ways you didn’t know you’d ever want or need, and a man who absolutely stole your heart, making it no good for anyone else ever again. And along with that man, you gained an energetic, golden retriever who acted like your lives revolved around her, and who maybe wasn’t wrong, as you and Bob doted on Daisy like she was your own child, after you got her adoption papers finalized, always letting her ride up in the front of the truck with you, and giving her one too many treats every so often.

A few weeks later, on a warm afternoon, you found yourself heading back to base for the first time since the program had officially ended. You'd accidentally kept Bob’s spare phone charger in your bag after a night at his place and figured it was a good excuse to see him, not that you ever needed one. Daisy sat in your passenger seat like she owned it, tail wagging every time you glanced her way, like she knew exactly where you two were heading. 

“You miss him too, huh Daisy-Girl?” you said gently taking one hand off the steering wheel, and ruffling her fur, before focusing back on the road, and she woofed in agreement. Making you smile wide. “Yeah, me too Daisy, me too.”

You found Bob fairly quickly after you parked, a pencil tucked behind one ear as he talked to another pilot about something, knowing he was on his lunch break. He looked up when he saw you and broke into the kind of smile that made the thirty minute drive worth it. “Hey Baby, what are you doing here?” He asked, walking over with a wide surprised smile on his face, the sun reflecting off his baby blue eyes, giving them an extra glimmer.

“I brought your charger,” you said, holding it up. “And your dog.” 

Daisy bolted to him instantly, circling his legs with delighted barks. Bob crouched to greet her, ruffling her fur, and letting her lick all over his face, as he laughed loudly at her antics, and when he stood, he pulled you in for a kiss that was warm and familiar and made everything around you seem to blur, as his kisses make you feel like time doesn’t matter, and anyone who may be watching is irrelevant.

As you pull away and look over, you notice on one of the benches shaded by the wide awning, sat Maya. Her head was tipped to the side slightly, her eyes crinkled in that soft way that said she wasn’t just laughing, but rather that she was truly happy, Her whole posture had changed from her normal sarcastic and confident demeanor she so often puts on as a show, but rather, she seemed relaxed, and content, And Phoenix, Natasha, was sitting beside her.

Close.

Their knees brushed, but neither of them moved away. Natasha was saying something in a low voice, something you couldn’t quite catch from where you were standing, but the smile on Maya’s face grew wider, shyer, and more bashful. Maya glanced down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and when Natasha reached out to take her hand, she let her.

Your heart swelled, feeling so insanely happy for your friend, who you know absolutely deserved this, and being glad that it was with someone like Phoenix. You didn’t want to interrupt their sweet moment, planning to tell Bob that you’d see him later tonight, and start making the drive back home and call Maya later to interrogate her, but Daisy had other plans. She let out a happy bark and ran straight up to them, tail sweeping the ground wildly like she knew exactly what she was doing, as she barked and licked at their hands, as they noticed her presence.

“Daisy!” You exclaim with an exasperated sigh, as you run over to where she’s whining, hearing Bob’s gentle laughter behind you as you run. Phoenix turned her attention toward you, immediately clocking your presence  a few paces back, her expression not shifting much, and her hand still holding Maya’s. You offered them both a soft smile as you stepped forward to grab Daisy’s leash. “Hey Guys, m’sorry to ruin the moment, she seems to have forgotten how to act in public, apparently.”

Maya’s face went a little pink as she blinked up at you, words seemingly stuck in her throat, as you smile, glancing between them. The warmth in the air, the way neither of them had pulled away. The kind of silence that settles when something new is evident and no one’s quite sure how to say it out loud yet. 

“You two look happy.” You say softly smiling at your best friend, and Phoenix.

Maya’s blush deepened as her gaze looked away softly, and Phoenix’s smile tugged higher as she looked at Maya. 

“We are,” Maya said, voice a bit wobbly, as if, even she’s surprised at the situation. “We, were um, we’re kind of figuring things out.”

You crouched down to scratch Daisy’s ears, grinning. “I’m happy for you two, if anyone deserves this Maya, it’s you two. I guess Daisy just really knows when couples seem to work.” You say in a joking tone, looking at your best friend. 

Phoenix chuckles, finally releasing Maya’s hand, but doing so to wrap her arm around her shoulder instead, tugging the girl close to her. “She’s got a perfect record so far.”

Maya glanced at you, eyes seemingly glowing in the joy she feels, as her cheeks heat up again. “Please don’t make it a thing.” she says with an eye roll, referring to Daisy being a matchmaker. “Oh, it’s a hundred percent, already a thing.” you say, standing up, and making sure you have Daisy’s leash in a much tighter hold this time.

You bid them a goodbye, as you head to say one last goodbye to Bob, leaving them curled into one another under the canopy of late morning sun, Maya giggling into Natasha’s shoulder as Daisy trots triumphantly next to you, like her job here was done.

And honestly?

You couldn’t argue with her.

[that-dreaming-dragon]

Thanks for the tag @pogothefox-02!

Let's do this then..long post below cut.

I'm combining 1&2 so I don't repeat myself.

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to? 2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

We are a Median Constellations (I don't like to use system, since it's a bit complicated. And yes, our plurality is more a alterhuman phenomenon). I'm a Shapeshifter Dream Dragon otherkind & folcintera, others are also Dream Dragons, but cannot shapeshift.

Below are fuzzy who shares what, won't bother to distinguish. We also are/have:

Uzumaki Naruto otherhearted

Japanese pacific ocean dragon kardiatype

three-tailed enfield para-heartlink

Star dragon (collective) vaguelink, same species as Aurelion Sol

Mew Paraarchetrope

Bond Thread Weaver Archetrope

Ninja Archetrope

Flammie vague-flicker

We are collectively linking a digimon line vaguetype

Couple of hearthomes (deep ocean, ocean village, floating island, dreamworld)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Yes. I'm near perma-shifted, so you can probably say my most common shift is phantom shift. The others are extranth, they don't associate with this human vessel at all. I also experience astral, dream, berserk, mental, and potentially other sorts of shifts that I don't bother looking up terms for. The shifts correspond to various different identitype.

Strangest is hard to say, there's nothing too strange. Most of my cameo shift happened with dream shift, I don't think I've ever experienced cameo shift outside of that, or I just didn't pick up on them. I guess me being a water elemental nymph, jumping the water like a dolphin, then flew up into the air to land on a low-hanging new moon like I'm filming the opening of DreamWorks was pretty interesting.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

I'm pretty much discussing various aspects of alterhumanity daily with the community, in various platforms and places. Beyond that, alterhumanity is part of me, like my queerness, like my neurodivergence, like me being a artists. Sometimes I draw to express my alterhumanity, sometimes it's me making noises with my partner to be my critter self. Other times it's me feeling alone out in the world, or me feeling like things could be done differently when I read story, because I'm alterhuman, and my perspective is ultimately different.

5/ What do you think of the community?

Goods and bads like any community. I really wish we are more united, and our information be more unilateral. There's too much misinformation floating around and people making new things without seeing if something was already there. Or infighting, validity contest, and respectability politics.

But when we come together? It's an amazing feeling, because you aren't alone. I do love our community for its good--the scholars and nerds and philosophers, the creators and organizers. I love how we have so much vastly different experiences, life story to tell, worlds and cultures to share.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Acceptance, understanding, and a welcoming, safe space for me to just be, just exist, let me indulge in experiencing and talking about my alterhumanity.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

Sometimes.

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

You made it! That's awesome! Welcome to our community, you are not alone.

Take your time, pace yourself to learn, to listen, to read. Don't just jump into things and trying to cast judgement to yourself. Research more in-depth, ask questions, but learn to trust your gut, your feeling, they are your own experiences. Alterhumanity is a self-journey first and foremost; nobody else can tell you how to feel or how to identify. But that means you don't get to decide that for others, too.

When it comes to information and terms, do your research and verify. We deal with an extreme amount of misinformation, don't go coining terms and flags willy nilly, we have a lot of terms, and more that people coined without consideration to the actual community, plus those coined within without some community input. Seroiusly people mistaken alterhuman for only human or alterhuman for only nonhuman (identifying-as) really, really, sucks. Stop it, please go read up on what exactly is alterhuman.

Lots of information on here, just, here.

And lastly, buckle up, and have fun!

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

I want some actual stuff, some that don't even exist. Like Uzushio's hitai-ate, or quadsuit of myself. But I do have some stuff, my tiny tail that works for my core form, and cheapie white feathery wings. I got some pins for my kitsune-enfield heartlink as well, those would be consider apparels instead of wearable gears.

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

My kintype is "donno dont care" Our hearttype has elements of potentially a past life, potential psychological. Our kardiatype is straight up just a especially significant past life, it's in there in the definition of kardiatype lol. My plurality is sort of spiritual. Our linked vaguetype is societal (wanna be with sourcemate), personal symbolism, and some psychological factors. The various hearthome are tied to various identitype, thus soul, spiritual, metaphysical, and past lives. Our linked hearttype has paratype embedded, which is sort of messy all of the above reasonings. Our archetrope each has different reasons--past lives, spiritual, general cultural spiritual. The flicker might be more psychological and neurodivergent, I'm not sure. But yeah, I'm alterhuman because I identify as one, and I don't really care about the origin theory sometimes.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

@talon-dragonbeast @dinocanid @nimdreams @unearthlygamer @karak9

No pressure, I just like to tag in case yall would be interested in these sort of stuff.

Apparently I did this already, ah well. Sorry for the double ping tho *sweat*

If you are an alter/nonhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[loversrocktvgirl2]

Hiii Mari!!!(can I call you that?)

Ugh I have so many ideas in my brain🥲

But what about Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony (+anyone else you might wanna add) with an s/o who's got adhd? Not the like, "extroverted" 24/7 adhd, but where they js get random bursts of talkative adhd and stuff?

Or, another separate little idea, them with an s/o who's uncomfortable with alcohol? I feel like its a bit of an interesting concept with Tony cuz he's had plenty of moments where he's drinking in the mcu

Those are the only two I'll bother you with for now until random thouvhts come to me again<3

Please remember to take breaks, have a bite to eat, drink water, and have a nap when you need it!!!<3<3<3 appreciate you<3<3<3

(*noms you lovingly<3*)

gahhhhhhhhh I am so very sorry that it took me this long to write this (21 days is like three weeks so oopsies) but yes here it is

i did not write the alcohol prompt, i don’t have a lot of experience with alcohol honestly lol

and yeah, you can call me mari!! that’s cute as hell

my mini multiverse of madness…

ADHD Headcannons (Steve, Bucky, Sam, Tony)

word count: 0.6k+

masterlist

Steve 

Steve is a patient soul. He is a thinker and a listener first, and it’s only when he’s perfectly worded a response that he decides to speak. Everything that he does, no matter how impulsive it may seem, has had a lot of his thoughts poured into it. And when he hears you ramble, random and excited, it surprises him. And he loves listening to it. 

He is so on board for every little thing you’re into. You got super into cars and he started leaving F1 on on the TV until you started watching it and learning all about it. He’d figured you’d like it. And you ramble about it, explain every little rule and detail and decision, and Steve listens carefully, like he has all of the time in the world and nothing he’d rather be doing. 

When you move on, he’s unbothered. Next phase it is!

 Bucky 

Bucky is brooding and quiet. Also a huge literature nerd. When he gets into things, he thinks about them constantly, yet he never shares them with anybody. Then he gets to know you. And damn, it’s so fun!! You ramble and share and tell him about the things you’re into, and he gets invested. You started watching this cop show, and he’s never seen a single episode. But when he gets home from work, he expects a full recap from you, and he’s invested now. 

You eventually convince him to share more about the stuff that he’s into, so he compiles a list of a bunch of his favorite books and some things on his to be read and together, you start a two person bookclub.

You get into his books and the two of you go on tangents about what different things mean. It’s his very favorite thing. 

Sam

Sam is loud and rambunctious and playful. He shares and he listens already. But he loves it when you get going talking about something. He jokes that there’s little buzzwords that no one knows that get you rambling about something. One time, he mentioned the words “ten dollar” and you got on a rant about Hamilton. He listened very intently, very amused, for about five minutes, and then couldn’t help but chuckle.

He now has a list of buzzwords on the notes app on his phone and you cannot fight me on this.

Sam playfully teases you a bit about this, but he genuinely doesn’t mind, and he knows what you’re sensitive about and is careful to avoid that when he’s gently teasing you about things. 

Overall, though, Sam is a very sweet, funny, playful, and endearing guy and he is more than happy to listen to you rant. 

Tony

Tony, honestly? He’s the same damn way. 

You both just get very talkative randomly and you’re both extremely sarcastic. You both get very intense hyperfixations and it’s all you can think about. It drives everybody else freaking crazy because, while you do handle Tony better than anyone else on the planet, you are also shockingly alike. 

One time, Tony had the gall to ask Steve, “is that what I act like?” after you showed them your diorama of the music industry. It made Steve laugh and nod enthusiastically, “yes!” Tony chuckled, and insisted that it was much more endearing coming from you. 

When the two of you both got hyper fixated on this one specific robot model though? HOLY HELL.

Fury laughed and said, “if only I could get you two to work like that on half the S.H.I.E.L.D. missions.”

You two are adorable. 

taglist@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

[deesseshesca]

Where is your second chance ?

OMG GUYS ! Just started a whole new book in my life ... I can feel it !

PILE 1

4 cups (reverse) 

Honestly babe I would love to knock some sense into you or even tell you to stay focused but you are truly going through it. The reason why life is dragging by your panties is because of yourself but you need grace and a hug more than anything. 

First thing first … I actually don't know what to say. I don't know if I should say sorry or tell you  to seek help. So all I can type knowing it is true even if it is hard for you to believe rn… time will pass, the scar will heal and all will transform into a beauty mark. You guys have lost your love. I’m not talking about break ups … I’m speaking of death. No is nothing to be happy about because they were amazing lovers. They loved with all their might until their last breath. A lot of y’all you were literally the last thing on their mind before their body released their soul. It has been years now, for many of you at least but the pain is still there just translated in another way. You feel like seeking love again would be a betrayal. Some of y’all feel an unsaid pressure because you are still close to their family. For others you feel nobody is going to look at you with that many stars in their eye, be speechless because of your natural beauty, give you the amount of support in all your endeavors or even fill the spot you gave to  them as your spouse and future parent of your child. You are like: ‘’What’s even the point of trying again …when I know damm well nobody will ever be as good as them’’.  Instead of finding the where … you need to focus on the fact that healing is not linear. You may feel like you should be over the whole BS by now but babe grief is like a fever dream that would probably never cease. You learn to first deal, then cope and finally live WITH IT. It will never really vanish, that's an unrealistic expectation but remember the focus is to learn to LIVE WITH IT. Your second chance is on the other side of pessimism (when you are ready of course). When ultimately you are going to get over the guilt of falling in love with such a beautiful soul. 

Extra messages : You have a very cute tooth gap. I feel before them you never like it but they appreciate your shy and awkward smile. What a pleasure I got to experience it. Babe don't kill yourself (your mental health) over the fact that you failed you driver liscence. Pick yourself back up and go ahead. No it does not define you. My mom got her license at 32 after failing 3 times. You got it babe ! 

PREVIOUS READING

2. PAC (FREE ) : Why you SHOULD BE petty ?

3. COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : BLOSSOM.

4. FIRST EVER REAL YT VIDEO ;PAC : What's your toxic trait ?

(Go show some love babes ... XOXO)

PILE 2

3 swords (reverse) 

Hey babe ! How are you doing ? Damn you are glowing and dare I say you ass got fatter ! That skin tho… we both know is not just skincare. Even though I must give you your 10¯ you have been for months now consistent in your self care. You finally got over that fuck up ex. I can't say it was toxic because he never did anything abusive but packed his stuff and left randomly. Or for some choosing his toxic family over you even tho you pour your all into them. As I am diving into your energy, it is completely clean, no residue of the confused spirit. Also I must applaud you because instead of crashing out or taking it personally… you move on and heal your wound never regretting the love you gave. I need to learn a thing or 2  from you …

Anyways I feel like you are a bit hesitant. Some of y’all are overthinking because you may be oversharrer. You are scared that you are making a fool of yourself. Also before going further, maybe not every woman on this planet is meant to be sexy, some are pretty and others beautiful. You are cute. There's many cute women. Believe there's many men that enjoy cute beauty. Don't fall into the propaganda. Do not touch that beautiful round face and don't you dare try to put your hands on some ozempic. You are healthy and you look like it. Futhermore you are happy so why are trying to fuck it all up because of beauty standart force upon us. Let's go back to the business that pays me, the person you are crushing hard on. I see you flirting  hard and being charming. I love to see a spiritual girly shooting her shoot ( me : Yes … You should all learn from HER !). They find you quirky, charming and cute. They may have called you cute which disappointed you bit because they may be more on the handsome side. You think they are out of your league because they are smoking hot with their heigh,t muscles and tattoo. They also have colorful eyes and black hair with an amazing jawline. They genuinely fancy you  babe. They are as smitten as you. They don't realise it… yet. They enjoy spending time with you. When you are not there, they go and look for you. They love hearing  about all your unusual stories. No worries, no competition. My advice and I think this is where your second chance is; allow yourself to chase babe. You do the first step, flirt like no tomorrow and don't mind being a bit vulgar when you are under heat. Let yourself be the one to blush and be surprised. Is actually going to fasten the process on the person you plotting upon. Let them miss you …

PREVIOUS READING

2. PAC (FREE ) : Why you SHOULD BE petty ?

3. COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : BLOSSOM.

4. FIRST EVER REAL YT VIDEO ;PAC : What's your toxic trait ?

(Go show some love babes ... XOXO)

PILE 3

Emperor (reverse) 

Good evening my wild babes. How are you doing ? What’s going on, you guys seem to be more calm as of rn ? Are you guys resting before going all in for the official summer time ? I hope so because babe you are about to have a wild one. 

‘’Mommy… Mamacita … A mom of what ? A real baby…’’. You guys may be bikers. Fuck the waiting for one or aint nobody seating around just waiting for some dick. You guys are the embodiment of that energy. If a man can, so can your pair of tits also. What makes it even better is that you guys have a rather bimbo aesthetic (which I LOVE. I have loved bimbos since I was a kid). You enjoy getting your nails done, you never miss a hair appointment, you have a perfect makeup base but at the same time you study at a trading school. Some of y’all are engineers others may actually be athletes. For a very small portion of y’all not only do you enjoy F1, you actually know how to ride fast car. In all your femininity, grace and playfulness fire is brewing and some of y’all have been manifesting that event for a hot minute now… a beautiful, submissive man is entering your life. This summer you are going to be honey to the bees. There's not a single man that is not going to try to shoot their shot, flirt with you or even pay for your drinks. You may also get a pass at the club like this summer pretty privilege are working over fucking time ! You are not new to this. You have always been a pretty girl and always receive attention. Yet you never actually dated. You refuse to settle until you HAVE it. Very bratty when it comes to the matter of the heart. A lot of y’all are virgin and never been in a relationship because you refuse to give it up until the PERFECT one comes through. The second chance you need to give is to the tarot community … lol. Maybe a lot of reading throughout the months or even years promise it to 2. I swear babe hes very fucking close.

PREVIOUS READING

2. PAC (FREE ) : Why you SHOULD BE petty ?

3. COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : BLOSSOM.

4. FIRST EVER REAL YT VIDEO ;PAC : What's your toxic trait ?

(Go show some love babes ... XOXO)

[angels-hideaway]

𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒩𝑜 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓎

Detective!Caitlynx fem!intern!obvious!reader

summary: You’ve come to realize that interning under your crush, famous detective Caitlyn Kiramman, isn’t as exciting as you thought it’d be. That was the case until she starts to take you seriously.

3k words

inspired by @child-of-plut0

C/w: age gap: reader: 22 Caitlyn: 31. Mentions of murder, smoking, alcohol.

“Detective Kiramman? I got your mail! Oh- and your coffee!” You knocked on her door again. You thought your internship at the Piltover Detectives Office would be filled with action and adventure, not bringing a tired, disgruntled thirty-something year old woman coffee and mail every morning. Detective Kiramman didn’t take you seriously at all. She treated you more as an assistant or a maid than her intern.

Detective Kiramman, nine years your senior, had taken you on as an intern for the summer. She was famous all over town for being that good at her job. You’ve always been infatuated with crime and detective work, so working alongside her for this long was thrilling to hear! Until you actually did, and just became her new personal assistant. 

“Come in.” You hear her from the other side of the door. You open the door to find your mentor Det. Kiramman sitting at her desk smoking a cigarette. One elbow is on the desk and her hand is nestled in her disheveled hair. She did an all nighter, again. The dark circles under her eyes didn’t help you to that conclusion. She’s had those since you met her. 

Her handsomeness was undeniable. Tall, statuesque, and beautiful in a sharp, elegant way. Everything about her was admirable. Her style, her demeanor, her intelligence? You’ve been obsessed since you learned who she was. 

She finally looks away from whatever document she’s looking at, and takes a slow drag. “Is it black?” She motions to the coffee with her cigarette. “Yes. Just like you asked.” You set the coffee down and the mail in the growing pile. “Hey intern, tidy this place up for me.” She takes a sip of coffee. “Shit.” She mumbles after burning her tongue. 

With a sigh, you get to it. If you’ve learned anything during this experience, it’s that your mentor is extremely disorganized. Yet somehow, she’s the best detective around. When you got the letter saying you were accepted for this position, you nearly fainted. “Ms. Kiramman?” She hums in response, not even bothering to turn around and look at you. “When are you going to let me uhm…you know, help, or shadow you? You know…what I came here to do?” 

The detective exhales another plume of smoke. “Hm? You want to help? Alright. Come here. Give it a go.” 

“Really!?” This is the first time she’s actually given you a chance. “I don’t have all the time in the world.” That’s her way of saying ‘hurry up.’ You set down the pile of discarded papers and hurry to her side. She gets out of her chair and motions to you to sit. 

Her white button up is rolled to her elbows, and her tie is loosened. She’s looking at you with tired, sharp eyes. “Well?” She adjusts her stance. “Sorry. Okay.” You sit down in her chair, and feel her lean over your shoulder. “A serial killer?” You scanned the document. “Yes. He’s been at large for a little while now. He can cover his tracks too.” 

She watches you diligently, waiting to hear what you have to say. “All the victims are young women, the average age is 22… students? Like me?” You look over your shoulder at her for some sort of approval. She just takes a drag. “Read the transcription of an interrogation I performed yesterday. Do you think that’s our guy?” You take the papers and read. Your mind lingers on the “our guy.” The first time she’s treated you like an equal.

“What’s your answer, intern?” You feel her hand on your shoulder. She’s making you a little nervous. “It’s not him.” You look over your shoulder at her again. She looks amused. “Clever girl. Maybe I underestimated you.” She blows a puff of smoke straight into your face. After coughing, you continue. “Uhm- thanks.” She gives a rare smile. “You’re right though. I haven’t exactly been taking you under my wing as I should. You’ll have to forgive me.” She opens her office window to filter out the smoke. 

“That’s okay, ma’am!” You get up from her chair and return to the papers she wanted you to throw away. As the day goes on, she’ll sometimes engage you in whatever she’s working on, or update you on the case. She’ll ask questions to make sure you’re following, and correct you if you’re off the mark. 

When you do say something smart or correct, she praises you. “Exactly. Good girl.” The way she says that doesn’t imply anything at all, but just hearing that from her lips makes you feel like squirming. The way she looks at you gives you butterflies. Her eyes are intense and grounding. “Stop getting lost in my eyes and focus.” She chides. She’s very aware of your less than secret crush.

When you’re packing up, she makes her last request for the day. “Pour me a drink before you go.” 

“Yes ma’am.” You open her cabinet where she already has a stash of some favorite alcohols. As you’re pouring her a shot of whiskey, she puts out her cigarette and looks at you. “Why don’t you join me? You’re old enough, right?” Her stare is intense. Maybe she’s finally decided to take you seriously. That all starts with getting to know you of course.

“I am. I’m twenty-two.” You pour yourself a little less than her. You weren’t the best drinker quite yet. 

“Twenty-two? I remember being that young…” She downs the drink with ease. “You remind me a bit of myself back then. Wide-eyed and eager to get into crime solving...” She pours herself another shot. “I remind you of yourself?” That’s maybe the best compliment you’ve ever received in your life. “Very much so. Young people are so enthusiastic. It’s almost exhausting.”

“You say that like you’re not young.” 

“I’m young, but I’m not twenty two young.” What does that even mean?

“Thirty one is still young!” She sits up suddenly. “How’d you know my age?” You let that slip. “Uhm… I’ve done my own investigating about you… just to see who my mentor was. Nothing else.” That’s a horrible excuse and you know it.

“You’re quite the fangirl aren’t you? I’m not some star serenading you on stage, you know.” Her gaze softens. “I know. You’re only the best detective Piltover has ever seen! Your work has always been my inspiration.” She looks surprised. “Well I didn’t expect that. Thank you though.” There’s a small bit of color on her cheeks. 

“Of course! When I got approved for this internship, I was so happy I could faint.” She scoffs. “Were you really that excited to spend your time with an old lady like me?”  

“Thirty one isn’t old at all! I said that already. And yes, who wouldn’t be excited to learn from you?”

“You flatter me.” She takes her second shot. “You haven’t drank yours. Why’s that? Don’t like whiskey?” She raises one eyebrow. “No that’s not it I just… Don’t have that much drinking experience. Especially with the strong stuff.” She nods in understanding. “I see. There’s no rush.” She gets up to close the blinds. “I’ll probably be spending the night here again.” You take your shot, and make a face without meaning to. You hear Det. Kiramman chuckle at you. “You shouldn’t sleep here again.” You changed the subject.

“Why’s that? I’m a grown woman.” She turns on her record player, and a slow jazz song begins to play. “Well, you were up all night here weren’t you? Don’t you have someone to go home to?”

“No. I’m unmarried.” She lights a cigarette and takes a drag. All the while, her eyes stay on you. “Oh. Well still. You should get a good nights rest. If you work this amazingly on no sleep, I can’t even imagine how much you’d get done with rest.” She chuckles a bit at your enthusiasm. “I never thought I’d have such a dedicated fan. This profession isn’t exactly the sort to warrant that. You’re right though.” She puts on her coat and locks her cabinets. “Alright, I’ll walk you home.” 

“What?” 

“I had you drinking. As your mentor, it’d be irresponsible to send you on your way alone. Especially at this time of night, knowing there’s a serial killer out there who goes for your type.” Of course. It’s strictly professional. You didn’t have enough alcohol to actually get you drunk though. “Oh. Yes of course. Let me get my stuff.”

The walk home is silent except for the sound of your heels against the pavement. The city is awake, and so are the bars and clubs. The sound of live jazz bands and clapping finds its way outside to the cold night. “That sounds fun.” You say, trying to make conversation. “You think so? I’ve never been one for dancing. Especially in those flashy dresses.” She doesn’t seem like the type anyways.

“Uhm, detective?” She answers without looking at you. “Yes?”

“Can I call you Caitlyn?” She seems to think for a moment. “Hmm.. Ms. Caitlyn is fine. Detective Kiramman does get a little long. I’m still your mentor, so show some respect.” It’s a more personal than what you called her before, so that’s fine with you.

“I understand, Ms. Caitlyn.” You try and hide the giggle in your voice saying her name caused. 

You got to your apartment after Caitlyn insisted taking you to your room. “Thank you for walking me home, Ms. Caitlyn.” She shakes her head. “It’s no issue. Just get some sleep and be back in the office at eight a.m. sharp. With my coffee.” She points her cigarette like it’s an order. It is. “Yes ma’am!” Caitlyn shakes her head and sighs. “You’re quite the character. Well, goodnight.” She begins to leave.

“Wait! Isn’t it dangerous for you to go home alone?” Caitlyn turns around. “I’ll be fine.” She lifts one side of her coat to reveal the gun on her hip. “Oh. Alright then. Goodnight.” After closing the door, you couldn’t help but giggle. There’s no reason you should find that attractive, but everything she did was so arousing to you. The way she barked orders to you, the way cigarettes dangled from her lips, and even the dark circles under her eyes. 

The next morning, Caitlyn wasn’t in her office. Her things were, so she was somewhere in the building. You took the time to prepare her coffee, organize her papers, and sit in her chair for a moment. She really was amazing. In frames around her office were newspaper articles about her accomplishments. Catching killers, thieves of ancient relics, and busting entire drug rings. 

“Morning.” The door swings open. Ms. Caitlyn looks like she just came from a meeting. The moment she closes the door, she lights a cigarette and loosens her tie. “Finally out of that stuffy room. I hate meetings.” She looks around her office, noticing the organization. “It looks nice in here for once. Thanks, doll.” 

“Oh! no probl-” what did she just call you? Suddenly the room is getting very hot. You unbutton your shirt just a tad to cool off. Caitlyn’s wearing a ghost of a smile like she knows what she did to you.  

“Uhm, I need to use the bathroom.” 

“Okay. Go ahead.” You’re excused awkwardly to go compose yourself.  When you return, she’s back in her chair, filling out documents with a pen. “So, today I’ll be interrogating another suspect.”

“Can I help?” 

“I was planning on letting you listen in. You won’t be in the room with me, but you’ll be able to hear everything through a radio. I’ll be conducting the interrogation with another detective. I hope you’ll be able to observe some helpful tactics.” She paces around the room, twirling her pen. “I’m convinced this is the killer. I’ve been keeping my eye on this man for some time now, but I couldn’t find anything really substantial until last week.” She looks so passionate like this. You can’t help but admire her.

“That’s wonderful! I’m excited to listen.” She fixes her clothes and puts her cigarette out. “Well, let’s go.” 

You’re escorted to a room directly behind the interrogation room. You can see the whole thing through a one way mirror, and  as promised there’s a radio. Some other police and detectives are in the room with you, but similarly to Caitlyn, they don’t really acknowledge you.

The suspect is sitting inside the room alone, with a grim expression. He is scary looking. The kind of man you’d think would go after college girls in the night. Then, Caitlyn and her colleague enter. They exchange formalities, but Caitlyn seems a lot more serious than the other detective. 

As the interrogation goes on, it’s clear to you what they’re doing. Caitlyn is playing the bad cop. “I have evidence against you no one can deny.” Her voice is firm and her eyes are burning. “I know you’re the one behind this. There’s no use trying to lie to me. Just say it, and this will all be over.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The man pleads. “I understand this is stressful, but we need you to be honest.” The other detective is playing the good cop. “I’m being honest!” The suspect snaps. “I don’t think you are. You were spotted with the late Ms. Samantha an hour before she died. You also lied about your whereabouts the night Ms. Williams was murdered.” Caitlyn definitely sounds a little scary. If you were the real killer under her gaze, you’d give up by now.

“I’m telling you! I’ve got nothing to do with this!” 

“Hey, I honestly don’t think it’s you. Unfortunately, we have a suspect list to go through.” The other detective assures the man. “I’m getting tired of this. I’m going to the restroom.” Caitlyn leaves. The other detective begins to speak again. “I know she’s being a bit harsh right now. She can get like that when trying to crack a tough case. Just tell me your side of the story, okay?” 

“It’s not me! I hated those women because they treated me so terribly! I know I have a motive, and I know my actions don’t make me look innocent! I promise it’s not me though!” The suspect is being more vulnerable now. “What do you think?” Caitlyn entered the observation room. “You’re doing great! Are you being mean on purpose?” She nods. “Yep. Allowing the suspect alone time with Detective Lanes will make me seem like the bad guy. They’re likely to build a rapport with her, and become more vulnerable. It’s a psychological tactic. Watch.” 

Sure enough, the suspect is speaking more. “I was with Samantha that night. We went out drinking and I told her that I wanted more out of our relationship. She rejected me though. I was just so devastated. I loved her so much. I just hate how all these bitches think they can just throw me away after everything I do for them.” He begins to cry. “Thought so.” Caitlyn mumbles. “Killed the poor girl because she rejected him. What a sick man.” 

You tell yourself getting nervous. She’s leaning over your shoulder, with one hand on the back of your chair watching the suspect. “Maybe one day, we’ll get to do interrogations like this together. When I become a real detective.” She looks down at you and smiles a real smile. “Maybe one day. That’d be nice.” You can’t help but fantasize about it. You and detective Kiramman working together to force the truth out of criminals. You and detective Kiramman pulling all nighters together trying to make sense of strange clues. You and detective Kiramman taking breaks together, where you share cigarettes and pull her in for a kiss by that damned tie. You’re brought back from your delusions by Caitlyn clearing her throat. “I hope you’re focusing on what’s in front of you right now.” She ruffles your hair. “Well, I’m going back in.” 

The interview ends, and the man is put in custody. It’s around nine p.m. now. You’re meant to be home, but you wanted to check on Caitlyn. “Ms. Caitlyn?” You open her door, and she’s still there. She look pensive. “Oh, you’re still here? It’s Dangerous to go home at this hour.” 

“I wanted to hear your thoughts. On the interview this afternoon.” Caitlyn sighs, and lights a cigarette. 

“Well… I haven’t gone through the entire transcription yet, but from the experience alone, I can’t say for sure yet. You should get home. It’s late. Be careful alright?” 

“I’ll be careful. Thanks Ms. Caitlyn.” The walk home that night is peaceful. You’re a little disappointed that she didn’t offer to walk you home again tonight. When you get home, your rotary phone is going off. 

“Hello?”

“Did you make it home alright?” It’s Caitlyn. 

“Ms. Caitlyn? Yes I did. Thank you for checking on me.”

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to check because I don’t know for sure if this is my actual culprit. Besides, catching one guy doesn’t mean all of them are gone.”

“Yes that’s true. Are you still at the office?”

“Yes. I’m probably going to stay all night. Brew me something strong tomorrow.” 

“Yes ma’am. I’m heading to bed now then. Goodnight.” 

“Take care. Goodnight.”

You feel giddy. She wanted to check on you! What a sweet gesture. She truly must care for you. What if it was more? It couldn’t be. Deciding to stop letting delusions get the best of you, you get ready for bed, and go to sleep. 

When you get to the office the next day, Caitlyn is still there. She’s sleeping rather peacefully at her desk, with her cheek resting on an arm and scattered papers. She really looks to be in a deep sleep, so you decide to leave her alone. You find her trench coat on the rack and drape it over her sleeping form. She looks less serious like this. All soft and cozy. 

You’ll brew her some coffee whenever she wakes up. For now, Detective Kiramman gets a break.

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