#it’s too much I’m sorry I can’t do it

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?

(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)

ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k

One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless. 

“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back. 

Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.” 

You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?” 

“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”

“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly. 

When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected. 

Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours. 

“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction. 

“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.” 

“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”

“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.” 

“I can’t have narcotics.” 

You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?” 

“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.” 

You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.” 

“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.” 

His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.

“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.” 

He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury. 

“What do you do for work?” you ask him. 

“I work for the FBI.” 

“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.” 

“It’s not the cut that hurts.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.” 

He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it. 

“Are you an agent?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?” 

“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.” 

“So you’re the big gun.” 

“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.” 

“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.” 

He sighs. “I do, too.” 

“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.” 

“It’s okay.” 

You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside. 

“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.” 

You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though. 

Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.” 

You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails. 

“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?” 

“It’s okay.” 

“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.” 

“You’re a great nurse.” 

“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?” 

“Getting worse.” 

“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?” 

“Psychosomatic, apparently.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?” 

“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly. 

“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”

“Stressful.” 

“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?” 

“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.” 

“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand. 

“I’m fine.” 

He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?” 

“Uh–”

“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.” 

He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.” 

He nods but doesn’t move. 

As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think. 

“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say. 

“Fine.” 

“You’re pink.” 

“What?” 

“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?” 

“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply. 

“You can ask for her number.” 

“No I can’t, she’s working.” 

“But you want to,” his friend surmises. 

You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[jjunieworld]

EASY ACCESS ˒˒ 이희승

after a whole year together, heeseung suddenly breaks up with you, to your surprise. mere days later, you see him at a party with another girl. you decide to do the only thing you could think of—get back at him. except… it doesn’t go quite to plan.

pairing ⸝⸝ lee heeseung 𝑥 fem!reader feat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥!𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦

genre ⋆ 📄 ⸝⸝ exes to ???, smut with a tiny bit of plot, some angst because i can’t control myself i’m sorry

warnings ⸝⸝ unprotected sex, hard dom!heeseung, jealousy, possessiveness, mirror sex, bathroom sex, very very messy and rough sex (he loves it messy), multiple orgasms, ruined makeup, fingering, clit stimulation, slight dacryphilia, hands on neck (not quite choking), overstimulation, creampie, hair pulling (f. rec), backshots, brief blowjob / deepthroating, manhandling, dirty talk

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ once again pushing the wc for my drabbles lmao.. haven’t wrote exes getting together again in such a long time, so here you all go, served up to you on a silver platter!! sorry for all the rough sex lately, i’m such a hard/mean dom girlie… hehe enjoy!! ^^

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 2.8k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you didn’t even need to feel his burning gaze following your every move to know that his eyes were on you—and only you. it was what you had hoped for, and everything was going to plan.

to be honest, you weren’t listening to a word that jake was saying. you were too busy looking at heeseung from your peripheral vision, seeing the anger build up in him brick by brick until you practically saw steam coming out of his ears.

you subtly watched as he glared at jake, glared at how close you were to him, and glared at how you smiled at whatever he was saying. you felt as his eyes trailed your body and the dress that you were wearing that was so short that your ass was almost hanging out and that barely covered your tits.

you were laying it on thick, but you didn’t think either boy knew it. jake told you a joke you didn’t care to listen to and you laughed flirtatiously, laying your hand on his bicep as you leaned into him. “you’re so funny,” you smiled, batting your eyelashes at him.

bullseye. you saw heeseung down his drink and push away from the wall he was leaning on, completely abandoning the girl he had brought with him to the party just mere days after the two of you had broken up. a whole year together completely forgotten, just like that.

well, two can play at that game.

you pretended not to notice him coming up to you. you acted shocked at the way his arm possessively wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. inside, you were laughing at how heeseung had barely contained the anger radiating off of him. “i think she’s had too much to drink,” was all he said, looking—or more like glaring—at jake instead of you. you didn’t even get to protest since heeseung was already dragging you away.

he pulled you into a less crowded hallway and you pushed him off of you. “you don’t get to do that—not anymore,” you exclaimed. you haven’t even had anything to drink tonight. there wasn’t even a cup in your hand.

heeseung didn’t get to act like the jealous boyfriend when he was the one who broke up with you. you just wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine. see how much he likes it when you’re all up on a guy days after your breakup.

“i can do whatever i want,” heeseung said matter-of-factly. he dragged you into the nearby bathroom and slammed the door behind you, locking it. “because whether you like it or not, you’re still mine.”

his words went straight to your core and you leaned backwards against the cold marble of the sink, trying to subtly press your thighs together. heeseung’s eyes trailed your body again—focusing particularly on the way the dress you wore adhered to your body—like a hunter watching its prey.

heeseung’s eyes snapped abruptly to yours and you watched the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk. “besides,” he said, stepping towards you and caging you against the sink with his body, “i don’t remember you telling me to stop.”

his finger hooked under the thin strap of your dress and slowly started to pull it down your shoulder. he leaned down and his breath fanned against your jaw.  “just like you aren’t stopping me now,” he continued. “this is what you really wanted, wasn’t it? were you that desperate for my touch after i dumped you that you resorted to making me jealous? you know i don’t play nice.”

you inhaled sharply, words caught in your throat. instead, you pushed him away from you again and heeseung stumbled backwards a few steps with a laugh. “you forget that i know you like the back of my hand,” he said.

glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest and the action only made your tits spill out of your dress more. “you don’t know anything!” you spewed.

in one swift motion you were pulled towards him and spun around so your ass was pressed against the bulge in his pants. heeseung held you flush against him, his lips at the shell of your ear. you let out a small whimper and he chuckled. “i know that all this was purposeful,” heeseung started. “like this dress you wore… you’re practically begging me to fuck you.”

his hand slid down to your lower stomach, pressing down onto it so you felt just how hard he was through the material of your dress. you breathed heavily as you fought the thoughts of his hand sliding down farther, of him touching you where you really needed him. you were dripping at the idea and your pussy throbbed.

“i bet if i move my hand down further…” his hand trailed downwards, just barely hovering at the bottom of your dress, “…we could both see how wet you really are. so needy… are you even wearing anything underneath?”

instead of checking for himself, he trailed his hand back up your body and cupped your tit. you swallowed the whine that tried to escape your mouth and heeseung’s rich laugh filled your ears. “i know that you know i don’t like being jealous,” he spoke as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

your eyes met his through the mirror in front of you and you looked at how pathetic you looked. your chest rose and fell heavily and if weren’t for the way the two of you were standing your thighs would be squeezed together too. heeseung was barely doing anything to you and you were already falling apart. you didn’t even have to say anything for him to know that he was right.

with one hand, heeseung took hold of your chin so your gaze stayed focused on the two of you in the mirror. he made you watch as he trailed his hand down your stomach, his touch lighting up your body and making you breathe harder. he leaned towards the shell of your ear, a smirk on his lips. in a low voice, he said, “you know i don’t like people playing with what’s mine.”

heeseung grabbed the bottom hem of your dress and yanked it up to reveal the tiny thong you wore underneath. he then yanked down the straps of the dress so your tits sprang free of it. finally, his hand cupped your heat, the tips of his fingers grazing along your clothed clit and making you jerk as he pressed his hard-on further into your ass.

he hummed as he lightly rubbed his fingers against the soaked fabric, his eyes still on yours. “what was that about me not knowing anything?” he asked smugly as his free hand squeezed one of your tits.

you couldn’t help the way your hips grinded against his hand and your eyes fluttered closed at the sudden pleasure. “what did you expect me to do?” you asked. your words lacked the punch you intended them to have and instead came out breathless and a bit defeated. “a whole year together and then you leave out of nowhere. now i see you all over some girl days after you left me like i didn’t matter to you. who does that?”

heeseung’s pulled his hand away so he could instead slip it under the thong you were wearing, his fingers spreading your arousal through your folds. you gasped softly, your back arching and your ass pressing more into him. “why lead me on for that long if you didn’t want me?” you continued through a small moan.

“when did i say i didn’t want you?” heeseung retorted. “that you didn’t matter to me?” slowly, he pushed his fingers into you and you moaned louder, grateful that the loud music on the other side of the door drowned it out.

your eyes fluttered open, your mind barely able to form a coherent thought as he started to finger you. you watched as his hand moved underneath your thong and barely covered his actions. you met his gaze through the mirror once more. it was embarrassing that you were so wet that you could hear the sounds his fingers made as he sped up his pace over the muffled music. the loud moans that left your mouth were even more embarrassing.

“why leave then?” you managed to ask him.

“i like the hunt,” heeseung said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. his long fingers reached deeper into you and pressed against your sweet spot, making you gasp loudly. your wetness dripped down your thighs and your moans got louder as you tried to move away from him. heeseung’s hand moved to just below your neck as he kept you against him—a warning.

all you could manage was shallow breaths as his fingers rammed into you. you stood up on your tip-toes as your knees began to wobble. you were so close to the edge that you mind was clouded and you could barely remember the words he said, only the hurt that followed after. that was, until heeseung spoke again, his eyes boring into yours. “and you were starting to bore me.”

tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, both from pain and pleasure. you came undone on his fingers, covering them in a creamy white that left lewd sounds in its wake as heeseung’s hand continued to move. you brows knitted together as the tears fell down your cheeks. “b-bullshit,” you moaned out.

heeseung might’ve known you like the back of his hand but you knew him like the back of yours. he was lying. if he meant what he said then he wouldn’t be in this bathroom with you, his hand covered in your release and his fingers inside of you knowing exactly what to do. he wouldn’t even let his jealousy get to him—or even be jealous at all.

“you're lying.”

heeseung pulled his fingers out of you and pushed you against the sink. he moved the two of you closer to the mirror so that you were almost face to face in a way. saying nothing, he stared intently into your eyes through your reflection before leaning down and turning your chin so you faced him.

now that you were actually face to face, your breath hitched in your throat. his lips hovered just over yours, barely an inch apart. “i didn’t know how to express how i felt…” heeseung said, “so i didn’t say anything at all. i left.”

he closed the distance between the two of you in a rough and sloppy kiss. distantly, you heard the zipper of his pants and the sound of denim. he yanked the thong you were wearing to the side, just enough for him to have easy access to your already messy pussy.

you gripped tightly onto the marble counter of the sink as heeseung pushed his thick cock inside you, stretching you more than his fingers ever could. you moaned against his lips. you missed the feeling of him inside you, of how full you felt as his long cock went deeper and deeper. heeseung didn’t waste any more time as he roughly thrusted into you, pushing your body further into the sink and towards the mirror.

“and you already told me you loved me.” heeseung pulled his lips off of yours and grabbed your chin. he faced you towards the mirror, the two do you almost cheek to cheek as he made you watch him fuck into you roughly at a fast pace. you felt your previous release drip down your thighs and your tits bounced at the vigorous pace. heeseung looked at you through the mirror, “…you deserve better.”

heeseung moved away from you and grabbed your hips with his hands. you watched as his hips rutted into yours and skin loudly slapped against skin repeatedly. you could barely think, much less move with the way he was fucking you. it was as if all of that anger and jealousy from earlier flooded through him, only this time more towards himself, and he was taking it all out on your needy and waiting pussy.

you were a moaning mess, mouth agape and drool almost spilling from the corners as heeseung fucked you stupid. you fought to process his words, realizing too late that he was telling you all of this with his cock inside you to distract you.

he was hoping that if he left you ruined enough that you wouldn’t think twice about his words, that you would instead focus on your trembling legs and white knuckles as your hands cramped from how hard you gripped the edge of the marble counter. it almost worked in his favor.

“i w-want you,” you stated, head lolling to the side before falling down to the counter completely. “f-fuck!” you whimpered, your voice muffled. you were so close to cumming again and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“look at me,” you heard heeseung say and when you didn’t immediately obey he roughly pulled your head up by your hair and then towards him so your back was against his chest. you whined in protest that was quickly smothered by another one of your moans as his fingers suddenly dipped down to circle your clit.

heeseung was breathing heavily and he grunted at the way you were clenching down around him. shallow moans left your lips as he thrusted into you and it wasn’t long before you were cumming again. it dripped down your thighs and left you a sticky mess. more of your release dripped down heeseung’s cock and left a white ring at the base. if it weren’t for heeseung pressing you against him you would’ve fell to the tile below.

“can’t t-take anymore!” you cried with furrowed brows as you met his gaze in the mirror. the bathroom was filled with the sounds of your skin slapped against his and the wet sounds of your messy cunt. “t-too much!”

your body shook and heeseung just shushed you. “the things i touch, i ruin.” he placed a soft kiss onto your jaw, completely contrasting his other movements. “just look at you,” he stated.

he released his hold on you and you tumbled back down to the counter. heeseung groaned as he gave you a particularly harsh thrust. tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation, ruining the makeup you spent so long on, but a part of you also didn’t want him to stop any time soon.

his warm cum filled you up impossibly more, spilling out of you and mixing with your own cum down your thighs. you forgot how messy heeseung likes you to be once he’s finished with you. ruined, like he said.

heeseung stayed deep inside you and you managed to lift your head to look at him through the mirror. his hand wrapped lightly against your throat for a moment before sliding up your neck and lifting your head higher. he gave you an almost satisfied smile. “i love how messy you are when i’m done with you,” he said as he pulled out of you and his cum went rushing down your thighs. “and always so fucking needy for more too… like you can’t ever get enough no matter how much i give you.”

shifting away slightly, he leaned down and spread apart your asscheeks so he could get a better look at his work. “i-i like being ruined by you,” you sniffled as you breathed heavily, words coming out almost strained. “i like that no matter how undone i become, there’s still more threads you can pull. pull them.”

heeseung’s eyes flicked to yours. “it’s not worth it. you’ll only get hurt in the end.”

you turned towards him, “you won’t hurt me.” you wiped the tears and streaked mascara from your cheeks with the back of your hand. heeseung was closer than you thought he was as he leaned over you. he leaned back and pushed you down to your knees.

he looked down at you through hooded lids. “you deserve better,” he reiterated. you grabbed his hard cock and licked a stripe up it before sucking lightly at his mushroom tip. he moaned, his hands coming to rest at the back of your head.

“that’s what you think,” you replied. “doesn’t mean it’s true.”

heeseung sighed deeply. he then pushed your head fully down his length, causing you to gag around him. you looked up at him with teary eyes and spit spilling from the corner of your mouth. “you talk too fucking much,” heeseung said.

you then smiled, fisting his cock and watching as his eyes fluttered shut. “then make me shut up,” you responded. an amused smile lifted heeseung’s lips and his eyes opened to look at you.

he gave you no time to say anything else before his cock was down your throat again. heeseung grabbed a fistful of your hair. “suck,” he demanded instead, and you obeyed.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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[luckykiwiii101]

ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL

p.s. this post isn’t pretty, it wasn’t worth my time, or effort.

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually i’m here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this one’s for you. And I can’t name any upper east siders more desperate than, well…you. It’s pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you haven’t ran out of tears already, that is.

I don’t mean to start a fight, but there’s a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.

I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people don’t like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers “preaching” the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh what’s that word again…hypocritical was it?

And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm “@loaisacult doesn’t exist, @loaisacult doesn’t exist…” Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isn’t your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.

Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I can’t tell you that isn’t true. Because to some extent, it is. And i’d agree with you if you weren’t so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isn’t your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?

Let’s use your “logic” here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is that…

Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh i’m sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didn’t think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you can’t! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because that’s what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why don’t you.

“It's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.” - l.o.s.e.r

B-b-but didn’t you say that you used to be a big blogger? So why didn’t you attempt to do the same? (As if! it would only work if they assumed so). But honestly, you don’t sound like someone who is educated on the law, you sound like those desperate anons in bloggers inboxes asking bloggers to manifest for them. Because why is that the point you used? To manifest for followers? Were you…one of those…followers? Talk about holding a grudge. No wonder why you’re so mad. If I had a dime for how many times you got rejected i’d be a millionaire.

“Want to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for them….. change the election revise life’s an illusion while you’re crying about having your rights taken away lol but you can’t.” - l.o.s.e.r

Run upper east siders, we’ve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, you’d know that you can’t manipulate somebody else’s reality, unless they assume you can. But it’s not to my surprise that you didn’t know that, of all people. Last time I checked, it’s YOUR imagination, and nobody else’s. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination? And you claim to be a blogger educated on the law…quite a “big” one too. I cant name any “big” bloggers who’ve misinformed the law THAT bad. Talk about liars now…

At this point, it’s PAINFULLY obvious that you were one of those anons begging bloggers to manifest for you. Because you’re SO mad that bloggers don’t do that for people. They can’t really because it depends on your assumption. I’m not even making an invalid point here. It’s just so obvious. “Want to prove to your followers.” “how about you manifest for them” 😭 I’m literally in tears because of how funny this is. I’m sorry that no blogger has proven it to you or manifested “for you”, and you’ve carried that hatred with you and projected it onto the whole loa community. And the only reason you continue to believe that the law of assumption is real (rightfully so) is because you know that there’s way too much proof of it to even attempt to dismiss it without looking like a fool. And maybe a fraction of that belief comes from your hope, because without the law, everything you’d ever hoped for would be out the window.

In short, you make points about “why don’t you manifest for your followers 🥺” Well, I don’t know if you knew this but…there’s this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesn’t mean they can’t. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesn’t land, are your “points”.

But if you still don’t understand me, let’s use a little bit of your so -called logic here.

‘Loa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit don’t even post abt it probably think they’re in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.” - l.o.s.e.r

From YOUR logic, couldn’t I just ask you to manifest that the liars don’t exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why haven’t you…? You’ll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dream…then how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you can’t do that in a dream. See, your points are fuelled by complete hatred, not logic. You truly don’t believe what you’re telling yourself and others. Embarrassing.

And don’t get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. That’s just not how the human mind works. Wouldn’t they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping it’ll happen?I didn’t know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if there’s one thing money can’t buy, it’s class. Was that a moth? Must’ve flewn right out of your wallet.

Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.

Have fun continuing to “preach” your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.

Don’t even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.

P.S. I’ll delete this post later, I don’t like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just don’t want people in this community, including my lovely upper east siders to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories they’ve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. Only someone who hasn’t consciously the experienced the law for themselves would doubt others so badly, and you used to be a “big” blogger you say…The fucking audacity. But then again, it’s hard to believe in something you haven’t experienced for yourself (is it?), but at-least don’t get caught in a lie. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and don’t open it again.

- gossip girl

[parkersgarage]

a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.

Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (｀_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!

“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece’” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.

Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.

She hates it.

A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.

“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.

“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”

A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.

“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.

Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?

If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?

“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?

She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”

“Vika, we could’ve just left—”

“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.

“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”

“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”

You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.

“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”

Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.

At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.

You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.

can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Blue Magic

How I imagine the lads men (pre-relationship) react to you verbally enjoying them gently greasing your scalp. A/N: This one is specifically for my black girls and anyone with thick hair who understands what it's like to have to grease your scalp. Also for those who understand what it was like growing up with your momma and aunties brushing your neck, ears, forehead, and inner most thoughts. Getting popped with the comb for moving too much and the dread of knowing they’re about to pull out that hot comb. [Requested by: Anon]

Summary: He was always curious when you would turn down plans because you needed to wash your hair. He never understood why you had Wash Days instead of just a quick wash while you're showering. Since you had a crush on him you took the time to explain how your hair is different from his and how there's no such thing as a quick wash while showering for you. You decided to let him see what all goes into your Wash Days. Now here you were sitting crisscross on the floor in front of your full length mirror surrounded by all your hair tools. You just finished blow drying your hair in four sections and it was a relief to drop your arms and relax them for a while. You hung your head knowing that you had one last step to do before you could lay down.

“Do you need some help?”

Zayne

Zayne would be so meticulous with his hands as if he were actually doing surgery on your hair. He would be so gentle gliding the rat tail comb through your roots and gently spreading the grease on your scalp and slightly massaging as he went. “I’ve never had someone be this gentle with my scalp” You couldn’t help, but sigh however your sighs seemed to come out as soft whimpers. “Right there, scratch right there” he did exactly as you said and felt his ears getting hot in the process. Hearing you moan and whimper out soft “That feels so good” and “wait wait massage right there” followed by the most sultry sound he’s ever heard come out of you.

Nearly halfway through he's standing at attention. His nerves are on edge and he doesn't want you to see him like this. "I’m sorry, but I have to head home I have an early out-patient to attend to in the morning" You turn suddenly making him jump. "We're only half done" Your words came out more whiney than you intended.

You’re a little confused at his sudden need to leave, but you nod and stand to walk him to the door. "I'll make it up to you. Good Night." You don’t miss the very obvious bulge in his pants as he quickly grabs his coat and slips out your front door.

Rafayel

Rafayel is unintentionally rough as hell when he starts parting your hair. “Ow! why are you tugging so hard?!” You smack his hands away opting to do it yourself, but he begs to try again and you give in to those big puppy dog eyes he has. “Be gentle!”

Second time around he’s so gentle it almost feels like a lovers touch as he massages the section of your hair before going through with the rat tail comb like you showed him. You can’t help the noises that escape out of you as he smears just the right amount of grease on your scalp. “Are you always this vocal during this process?” He asks in almost a whisper. You try to turn to look at him, but he quickly snaps your head back towards the mirror, hiding his face behind your head. “It feels good when someone else does it” Another sigh leaves you as he keeps going “Please don’t stop” Once he reaches the last section you end up leaning slightly back into him and thats when you feel something poking your lower back.

Y/N: Raf are you…..are you turned on? Rafayel: You’re the one moaning my name while im doing this! Y/N: So it’s my fault? Rafayel: YES Y/N: pokes it Rafayel: do that again and im calling the authorities

He quickly excused himself out of the room while you cleaned up your mess of hair products.

Xavier

Xavier is hanging on by a single worn thread while he’s greasing your scalp. He can barely make it through the first section before he’s already nearly panting listening to you moan “Thank you Xavier” Hearing his name on your lips like that had him near feral. “You’re welcome” He whispered in a raspy tone. You feel him constantly adjusting his position and clearing his throat while he slowly works his way through the next section of hair. “Right there rub right there” You whimper and he inhales deeply as he does as you say. “Right here?” His voice is low and gravelly it actually sends tingles through your body.

Xavier literally can’t take it. His composure was slipping the minute you sighed his name. He managed you finish the job only to turn and tilt your head back to look in your eyes. The tension was always thick between you two. His gaze bounced from your eyes to your lips and you melted when he whispered “Can I kiss you?”

Sylus

Sylus is outing you right then and there he don’t care. The minute you whimper from his fingers gliding across your scalp he’s smirking. He’s so gentle while he does it you almost forget this is a Mafia Don that you have greasing your scalp in the middle of the night. “People would get the wrong idea if they could hear you now” He teased in that sultry voice of his. You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you that quickly dissipated the second he started massaging your scalp again. “It just feels so good” You whimper again while he slowly works his way through your hair. “I can tell”

He would be able to hold his composure throughout the entire process and by the time he’s done you can finally think clearly. You quickly slip your bonnet on and turn to face him thats when you notice his red cheeks and ears. “You’re never going to do this for me again will you?” You see the corner of his mouth quirk upwards.

He’s enjoying this.

“I don’t mind making you moan again” You shove his shoulder and he just chuckles as you pound your fist into his chest. “You owe me a scalp massage now sweetie”

[rebelssvy]

fuck buddy

ushijima x reader

- just a thought i had!

pure smut, sex.

sometimes his practice was just too hard. playing at a professional level is just soooo competitive. of course it was never that difficult for him. but it can be frustrating sometimes.

he just never gets that much time alone. having a high level of pent up tension within him. he’s a quiet guy and doesn’t let it show that much. well, that is untill he met you.

you came to one of his games and you stood out among the fans. he noticed you in a heart beat. but after the game was over and nothing happened. he chose to walk his separate way from you.

well until you ran into the professional at a coffee shop. it was sudden. and even crazier when he came up to you and said,

“you came to my game, correct?”

it left you in shock that he approached you first.

ever since then you guys have gone out a couple times. once it became more of a routine,things often would get escalated and result in sex.

bad practice? he’s coming over to fuck.

coach yelled at him? he just wants to see you.

he messed up a receive? he’s making you cum on his thigh.

and so here you were, getting pounded by him doggy style because they lost a non league game. of course the game didn’t really matter. but losing was losing. and ushijima hated losing.

he kept mumbling on about how he played good enough that they should’ve won. and how his teammates made to many mistakes.

“ushiiiii! i can’t- keep going” you screamed out. you had already came once and your second was approaching fast.

he’s usually more vanilla then anything. but today somthing awoke in him. you were clawing at your sheets. practically drooling against the fabric.

he suddenly flipped you around and started pounding you in a new position. missionary, except he had your legs pressed to your chest.

“oh my god” you moaned out to him.

“i’m so sorry dear i just- i can’t help my self right now.” he grunted out pushing himself in and out of you.

“it’s ok-!” you scream out again. bringing one of your hands to his wrist and the other to your clit.

once he notices the circles your rubbing into yourself he swats your hand away to do it himself.

you start clenching yourself around him. breath getting sucked out of your lungs.

“oh yea, goood girl.” he says while feeling you clench around his length.

your orgasm hits you like a truck. your legs wrap around his torso. making him his your deepest angle.

he lets out some grunts before pulling out.

and then he does somthing he’s never done before…

he finishes on your face

still fucked out of it, you don’t even realize when he’s done.

with a low guttural groan he says.

“so pretty”

……………………………………………………………………………

- ushijima brainrot.

- this might’ve been a little much idk. i’m going insane

- he eventually asks you to be his gf don’t worry

[filiazpink]

🩷"OH PRIMUS,,,"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 warnings: suggestive language (like- once but still), darkwing being darkwing, i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff, really minor transformers one spoilers (?)

summary: orion finds himself completely enamored with one of his superiors and d-16 doesn’t really mind it, until one day, you show up at the mines.

a/n: my very first tumblr fic!! i might post this on my AO3 account as well! hope this reached your expectations considering more than 200 people voted for this prompt on my poll  =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ill get to some of the other prompts shortly after, i just wanted to know which one would be best to start with (and to properly introduce my writing to tumblr teehee) !! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! ENJOY!! 💞💞💞

word count: 1139

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

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orion simply couldn't stop thinking about you.

your shiny and colorful armor, your beautiful optics, your height and strength. that voice. the power and authority you had over him. that power rivaled sentinel prime’s in his eyes. everything.

she was simply breathtaking. 

…

“earth to orionnnn, come on, rust bucket!!” pink servos waving at him frantically snapped the red and blue mech out of his trance. focusing his glance, orion watched as elita-1 gave him one of the scariest faces he’s seen yet, followed by d-16 behind her with his arms crossed, looking at his friend with a disappointed expression.

“what’s wrong with you?! you broke protocol, AGAIN!” elita pulled the miner to his feet, groaning in annoyance. orion’s dumb dopey smile quickly turned into a shocked frown and he was about to ask what he did now, but thankfully, his friend answered for him.

“orion, buddy, i know,,, i know you just wanted to save jazz from that explosion but you almost got killed doing that, man.” d-16 looked to the side, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“you can’t keep doing this, pax. ONE more stunt like this and I’LL be the one to get-”

“what happened here??” elita snapped her head towards the newcomer’s voice, expecting maybe another miner, but her angry scowl quickly faded away once she saw who it was.

it was elita’s superior. 

it was you. 

oh primus, beautiful, amazing, spectacular you. orion felt a rush of warmth cover his face as you walked in along with,,,

oh- with darkwing. of course he was there with you.

STILL- you just showed up with no prompting, and two days in advance no less?? clearly, this was important.

orion fixed his posture and tried to dust off any grime he had on him. d-16 chuckled quietly at his best friend’s excitement, before turning his attention to you.

“(y-y/n)! i thought you were coming to check on our sector in t-two days! i’m so sorry you have to see my team like this i swear it was an accident-” the poor pink bot stammered, much to darkwing’s amusement and to your confusion.

“what accident? the cave collapsing? that’s normal, elita-1. don’t worry about it. you’re telling me it was a complete accident so i will take your word for it.” hearing those words coming from you made elita feel like she was just told that sentinel finally found the matrix of leadership.

“oh, thank you, thank you,,,” orion and d-16 watched as elita continuously thanked her superior, chuckling. 

“well, that means we don’t get our butts kicked too, thank primus miss (y/n) was here.” the red and blue miner said, walking away from the scene with his pal.

“yea and now we can just finish this shift and relax-”

“d-16?” the two stopped in their tracks, slowly turning around in an almost comical way to face the much taller femme bot. 

orion’s servos trembled. he felt embarrassed, he was over here making a fool of himself with how obvious his crush on you was. literally everyone who steps foot in the mines knew about it, aside from, clearly, you. heck, even darkwing seemed to know, considering that despite his optics not being visible, he clearly was glaring at the cog-less bot.

or maybe it was just his usual routine of hating them.

d-16, however, gulped and let out the tiniest of “yes?”. ohhh boy, what now?? did she assume that the cave collapsing was his doing?? did darkwing tell her that-

“you’re at the top of your ranks here, correct?” his train of thought was interrupted by your soft voice, watching as you knelt down to his height, placing a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him a bit. orion stared at the polished hand on his best friend’s rusted shoulder with envy, his optics narrowing just a smidge.

“i already spoke to elita about this, but i also want you to hear it. i’ve heard some great things about you, and how you excel amongst your ranks. so i just wanted you to hear this.” d-16 felt frozen.

‘what is this,,, feeling? my face is burning,,’ oh indeed it was. his face flushed in a deep blue as he anxiously waited for your next words. just your soothing voice got him like this and he simply couldn’t understand why.

“,,, i need you.”

,,,

WHAT???

the first to react was darkwing, who let out a very outraged grunt of confusion, as if you just cheated on him with a MINER of all people in his face, followed by elita, the other miners and orion gasping, everyone turning their heads towards the two.

“,,,w-what?” the gray miner’s voice box barely even processed his astonished question. he felt as if his circuits were frying up by how hot he felt. 

orion’s expression showed bewilderment and a hint of betrayal. this,,, wasn’t fair?? well- he knew it wasn’t d-16 who said that to you, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous.

he wished it could have been him.

but then finally, you realized what you just said and removed your hand from the shorter bot’s shoulder, standing up straight and bumping into darkwing’s chest armor. “oh- p-please excuse me. i- uh, i chose my words wrong.” 

the onlookers decided to stop eavesdropping, realizing it was a simple mistake on your part. that made orion sigh in relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by d-16. but his attention was quickly brought back to you.

“my apologies, i- i would never say such things- not during work hours, i’m sorry- what i meant to say, i need you- as in i need you to help keep up the good work to motivate the other miners to do the same. it helps your ranks as it helps mine if we all put our parts to make a difference. s-so, yea.” you looked around, avoiding eye contact, a small blush remaining on your face. both miners nearly swooned at such a cute expression on your face.

“i just needed to do an early check up according to sentinel, that’s all. thought i’d try and give some pep talk and you can see i have to work on that,,” you giggled before clearing your throat and staring down at the mesmerized bots.

,,,

“goodbye.” and with that being said, you quickly marched back to the main exit with a very, VERY jealous darkwing in tow. 

orion turned his gaze to his best friend, who watched you depart with a dreamy look on his face. the red and blue bot sighed and gently shook his shoulder.

“d?,,,” oh he knew. 

he recognized that stare. the same stare he gave when he saw anything megatronus prime related, that same glimmer in his optics. it was that same spark that orion had when he first saw you.

oh primus.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

[bam-stroker]

I got possessed by the opportunity for silly in @keferon's Texaid mech au and ended up with a slice of serious as well. Oh well, Bone Apple Teeth! - - - - -

Every muscle and joint in First Aid’s body aches. Flopped over the official break room lunch table, his face has been buried in his arms for at least twenty minutes. He’d taken one tired bite from a sad little sandwich at the start of his break, and now it’s just wilting beside him before he officially decides to just trash it. To be honest, he can’t find the energy to actually care. After months of cleaning up the messes left behind by that thing, lunch has become a “me time” escape for him as opposed to an actual meal. 

Well, to an extent. It can only be so much of a solo time with the cross over of employee lunch breaks. 

“You know, it’s not good to skip a meal when you work as hard as you do.” 

The sentiment is entirely sincere. Even face down, he can see the exact sad little face across from him. Those familiar blue eyes always twinkling with feeling. First Aid only grunts in acknowledgement. Why does Tailgate always have to be so… caring? He thinks to himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the memory of harsh laughter echoes at his thought. But it’s mechanical. As if that… machine is now a part of him. Haunting him. Or maybe it’s like a disease? But he can’t think of any illness where something like that can listen and watch to see the world through his eyes. Haunting it is then.

Whatever. He’ll take more time to care about that when he’s able to lift his head back up. Below his breath First Aid mutters, “I bet you like that, huh? Wearing me out. Must be so funny.” 

The voice in his head has nothing to say. 

First Aid huffs. Jerk.

Tailgate on the other hand, continues to pry. “So… Were you talking to him just then?”

Great. He’s saying shit out loud. Stellar! Amazing! This is going to do great things for his crumbling people skills. First Aid musters up that one sandwich bite’s worth of energy left in him to sit up. The popping of his joints should be concerning, but on the priorities list—stepping into a death trap daily as a new career—it’s hardly the top of it. 

“Look, Tailgate, I’m sorry. Yeah… I was talking to—” he starts to reply, and then cocks his head in confusion. “Wait, did you just say ‘him’?”

And there goes the old Tailgate big wet eyes shine. He nods his round little pale face, the short crop of his bleached white hair bouncing with the movement. “Well, yeah! Vortex is the one haunting it, right?” 

First Aid can’t help but sigh, slumping back into the uncomfortable break room chair. “Come on,” he replies. “Don’t tell me you’re another ghost believer?” 

He tries to keep the shake out of his voice. He tries to keep up the act, because if he admits it… if he admits it then it all becomes real.

Tailgate nods, giving a thoughtful hum as he eyes the sandwich waiting patiently to be eaten. “There’s a lot of stuff I don’t understand. But, it feels easier to talk about it like that,” he says. Looking back up to lock eyes with First Aid, there’s a weight behind his gaze. “You’re not the only one cleaning up the messes around here. So let me be a little superstitious to help me get through the job.”

With a heavy sigh, First Aid breaks the eye contact. It’s too much. 

He crosses his arms, staving off a shiver from the memory of the first time he ever cleaned up the mech. Of the look on Tailgate’s face, so scared, when he’d handed him the remnants. 

The janitor and the wannabe medic. What a sad sorry pair.

All First Aid can offer is a nod of his head in acknowledgement, before he changes the subject. “So yeah, I’ve been talking to…him. It’s about all I can do, since he’s the one, ugh, actually driving.” 

Tailgate gasps loudly, as he leans forward. “It’s like reverse Ratatouille!”

“What??” 

“He’s the rat, and you’re the chef.” Tailgate continues, an entirely too excited smile on his face. 

“No!”

“Yes!!” 

First Aid groans, rubbing his palms against his eyes. “Tailgate. Please. How is this anything like ratatouille?” He pleads.

Between the cracks of his fingers, he watches Tailgate gleefully lay out his vision. “Everybody thinks it’s you—but it’s really him driving. So you’re like the chef, but instead of being on the outside, you’re on the inside—that’s why it’s reverse—because the rat is in the hat driving the guy like some kind of chef mech suit in the movie. But the ghost mech is driving you. So you’re reverse ratatouille!”

There are no words. There’s absolutely nothing he can say in response to the nightmare of his new life being summed up as accurately as “reverse ratatouille”. 

With a weary sigh, First Aid leans forward on the table, staring down as if some other answer to what his life has become will appear like a magic eight ball in the scratched up countertop. 

No such luck. It’s the same table he’s looked at day after day. 

“Reverse Ratatouille…” First Aid murmurs. A haunted look in his eyes.

“Reverse Ratatouille.” Tailgate chimes back chipperly.

Far off in the haunted abyss of his mind, First Aid hears the crystal clear laughter of the mech at the revelation. 

Reverse Ratatouille.

[escapisttt]

a lot of this was supposed to be posted for redacted kinktober but. college got in the way. i’m ovulating let me have this. it’s very long OOPS WHO LET ME OUT OF MY CAGE.

NSFW LMAO

lasko has a puppy kink. he likes being told he’s a good boy and craves to be of service to dear. would do anything to please them and do it well; it’s what turns him on the most. leash and collar. god, he’d lick the fucking dirt from their shoes if it made them smile down at him. yeah perhaps him and ash could bond over this. the difference between them though is that during those moments, lasko will never goof off or make jokes meanwhile ash is a bit of a brat. lasko would never disobey dear, but ash likes to push baabe’s buttons so that they “force” him into submission.

milo uses “good girl/good boy/good pet” hnnnngghh. as well as “pretty girl/pretty boy/pretty thing” oh my god. he’s so good at praise.

milo is usually pretty physically rough with it, going fast and deep, but you wouldn’t know that if you were just listening to his voice. sometimes while he’s absolutely fucking sweetheart’s brains out, he’s right in their ear speaking so softly and encouragingly with soooo much praise. “that’s right baby, ‘m i doin’ it right?” when he KNOWS he’s doing it right, he just wants to hear their confirmation. “yeah, lemme touch you, you like that? tell me you like that.” he looooves making sweetheart tell him how they’re feeling, and when they inevitably confirm that it feels good, he nods and doubles down. he craves good feedback, it’s his praise kink. “awwww i know it feels good baby, ‘m gonna make it feel even better.” it’s not condescending, it’s confidence. he knows what he’s good at, and he wants to get better. he’s a huge pleaser.

this is self indulgent if you aren’t into daddy kinks don’t read this one lmao. but daddy milo is soooo real to me. “was that too much? aw ‘m sorry baby, daddy’ll make it feel better. shh shh it’s okay, daddy’s sorry…” OUUUGGHHHH. “daddy wants what you want baby, tell‘im what you want. c’mon, be good and use your words, daddy wants to hear you,” i can’t do this anymore RELEASEEE MEEEEEEE. milo does it tastefully okay he’s not one of the weird ones TRUST ME.

milo who subs occasionally. to put a number on it, about 10% of the time. it may not be his natural default, but when the time is right, it’s so right. it happens one of two ways: either milo had a really rough, tiring day and needs to be coaxed into being cared for, or his sweetheart had been relentlessly teasing him. he’s such a brat at first, rejecting every dominant advance from sweetheart with a performative cocky demeanor, but it breaks down quickly enough when they touch him in the right places.

porter is such a masochist, but not in a traditionally submissive way. god, he loves when treasure slaps his face, yanks his hair, and scratches his back deeply on purpose. he likes being choked a little sometimes as well. but when all of these things are enacted on him, he smiles. he’s got a cocky grin and he’s nodding emphatically, his hips pistoning, almost twitching, even if he’s not inside of treasure. he’s groaning and his eyes are rolling back, but he’s not submitting. he’s daring them to do more, knowing that the only one whose limits being tested are theirs: how much are they able to take of porter when he’s losing himself to the pain? the more intense the pain, the harder he fucks treasure. basically porter is saying without saying, “the more you hurt me, the more i’ll pleasure you.” treasure essentially controls their own pleasure through him; if they want him to go faster, they dig their nails into his back or his scalp or his hips. and as soon as they let go, he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and eases back down to a slower pace. and porter knows what they’re doing. he likes it. he likes that they have that level of control over him, but he’s absolutely not a whimpering mess like lasko.

david does not like using toys or bondage material. that’s his job. he’s very animalistic in the sense that he does not want anything, even objects, interfering with his time with his mate. he’s the type to get jealous of a vibrator or any sex toy. not because he’s worried about it doing a better job than him, but because it was the thing pleasuring his mate and not him. if his angel is in the mood, he wants to know so he can take care of it. an unspoken rule in the shaw house is that neither of them are allowed to touch themselves. david sticks to this rule through and through, but if angel is caught in the action, the punishment is pretty intense, meaning overstimulation. david is usually quite rough and is already a lot to take even when he’s going slow, so him when he’s angry can be… a lot. he’s got angel on their tummy in the prone bone position and is absolutely laying into them, growling in their ear with genuine irritation. “you should’ve told me… why didn’t you tell me? is this not cutting it for you? you had enough of this cock? i thought you liked it. thought you liked being full of me, not a piece of fucking plastic.” yeah he’s angy. and he’s not being mean to them, he just wants to prove to them and remind them how good he makes them feel. they shouldn’t want anything else. and when angel does it because they think david is too busy for them? yeah he would stay up during all hours of the night to prove them wrong. “how do you think like that, hm? you think i’d put work above this? god angel, i do everything to come home to you, give my time to you. you don’t get that? let me keep showin’ you….”

azmidi who literally nuts on a lot of phone call role plays with sweetie (it’s canon yall hear the way his breath shakes all the time). just hearing their pretty voice, god he feels his pants getting tighter (if he wears those lol). he demands they tell him about their day even though they know he knows exactly how their day went. it feeds into that delicious fear of stalking, the idea that their every movement is being tracked and scrutinized and constantly mulled over. he wants to listen to them talk while he palms himself, nodding along with their version of events, happy that they’re being obedient and not lying to him. he doesn’t have to take himself out of his pants, though he likes to most times. he can come without that, just dry humping into his hand and pressing the phone to his ear, letting out the occasional moan. he knows sweetie can hear him, and if they show signs of getting flustered, it only makes him harder. “you know what you’re doing to me, right? you—you know… oh god…. hey, don’t stop. don’t stop talking. you’ve been doing such a good job, sweetie. let me hear you.”

william “eye contact” solaire. hngggnhnnhg. let’s imagine he’s got a long term partner, right? he is suuuuuuch a gentle lover. he’s not about rough sex very much, he’s too sophisticated lol. no, the actual reason he isn’t too keen on rough sex is because to him, his lover is a deity; an angel that walks the earth, the image of divine perfection. he isn’t going to treat them like a ragdoll, he worships the air they breathe for gods sake. he doesn’t see himself nearly worthy enough to be their companion, their equal. he gives them everything and then apologizes because it just isn’t enough. when he gave them their crown? “i hope you like it. the jewels are the finest i could find of course, for you. i—i perhaps could have gotten larger ones… i apologize. oh, but the weight may be a bit much for your neck… oh dear.” yeah this man is rich but he fucking won’t be if his partner doesn’t stop him from spoiling them. but i’m ranting, this is supposed to be about sex lmfao please ask me to make a post ab william i will do it so fast. this aspect of himself shows especially when he and his partner are intimate. he’s on his knees a lot of the time, staring up at his lover with worshipful reverence. he pleads in his soft spoken voice, his eyes fluttering shut as they put their hand on his cheek. “my love, what would you have me do for you? ask me anything.” and he means anything.

[nemesyaaa]

idkkk if it's because i'm sick but it was really comforting for me to read this. or maybe i love fucked up angry rafe so much !! this was literally so fucking great, i cannot tell how much ! but i love how bold are your readers and didnt stand for rafe's shit. you're always doing such a nice job at this. and tysm for taking the time to writing this, and congrats again for your 5k !!! 💓 You're too good !!!

you slowly lift your head from the window, chancing a glance at rafe. his body is tense, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. you don’t miss the slight tick in his jaw, watching as he clenches and unclenches it, nostrils flaring as his eyes remain on the road, not bothering to even look your way for a second. — i'm sorry but seeing him like that ?? i really need to fuck with him so badly

“just stop fucking talking! can you fucking do that, for once? just stop. fucking. talking,” he pauses, letting out a rough laugh, “i’m just gonna take you home, i can’t stand the sight of you right now, can’t stand your irritating fucking voice.” — anyways, he's so mean before all 😭😭 but damn its just turns me on AT this point

“god you’re fucking infuriating, such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he stops, his eyes flitting down to your lips, reveling in the way they’re slightly parted, loving the way your pulse beats rapidly against his fingers. his lips slightly brush against yours and you squeeze your thighs together. you need him, and you need him now. “what am i gonna do about that little fucking attitude of yours, hmm?” — love when you dirty talk, but also love when you mad talking babe

he lifts his head, cupping your face in his hands as he forces your eyes on his. “i know. i’m sorry too, i love you, y/n. i really fucking do.” — that's m'y crazy boyfriend and i'm his biggest apologist 🫶🏿

okok hot cocoa and a movie w rafe and his gf on a late night drive maybe after a fight?????? 🤗🤗🤗 u can make it smutty or angsty or fluffy

i’m honestly thinking all three, angsty smutty fluff😏🩷

CW: smut! 18+ only! bf!rafe, gf!reader, strong language, slight angst, piv sex, car sex, semi public sex, fluffy ending w soft!rafe<3

join the 5k celly here!

you lean your head against the window of your boyfriends truck, nothing but the low hum of the radio filling the tense silence that surrounds the two of you.

the night was going well, until it wasn’t. you and rafe argued a lot, but it had never reached the point it did tonight. the thoughts of all the harsh things you both spewed at one other makes your chest tighten.

you slowly lift your head from the window, chancing a glance at rafe. his body is tense, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. you don’t miss the slight tick in his jaw, watching as he clenches and unclenches it, nostrils flaring as his eyes remain on the road, not bothering to even look your way for a second.

“rafe…” you whisper, shifting in your seat so you’re facing him completely.

his hard blue eyes glance at you for a second, quickly placing them back on the road before he speaks.

“what, y/n… i’m really not in the fucking mood to talk to you right now.”

you breathe out a sigh, rolling your eyes. “then why the fuck did we go on a drive, huh? if you can’t even fucking talk to me, what was the fucking point in this?”

his hands tighten around the steering wheel once more, a heavy sigh pushing from his chest.

“i needed to fucking clear my head, after you…” he pauses, trying to calm himself before continuing, “fuck, after you said some of the shit you did, throwing low blows about my relationship with my dad my way, telling me that i’m a fuck up, i needed to fucking get out of that house… you are the one who asked to come with me, i would’ve much preferred you stayed home.”

his words hit you hard, slapping you in the face and twisting tightly around your stomach. your face drops, a slight frown on your lips as tears begin to fill your eyes. you know you shouldn’t have thrown his strained relationship with his father in his face, using it as ammo in your ploy to hurt him, and you definitely shouldn’t have called him a fuck up, knowing full well he hears that enough from his father and a few others.

rafe wasn’t a fuck up— far from it actually— you were just so angry, the words spilled from your lips before you could even give them a second thought.

“rafe, i-” you begin, but his loud, booming voice rings through the air, cutting you off.

“just stop fucking talking! can you fucking do that, for once? just stop. fucking. talking,” he pauses, letting out a rough laugh, “i’m just gonna take you home, i can’t stand the sight of you right now, can’t stand your irritating fucking voice.”

you gasp, his words slicing right through your heart.

“fuck you, rafe! god, i’m trying to make things better, but you’re being a fucking dick! and you wonder why i said the shit i said earlier, it’s because you act like this! you’re a fucking child! learn to grow up and communicate.”

rafe slams on the breaks so hard you jolt forward, your palms slapping against the dash of the truck. you push back, eyes narrowed on him. “what the fuck, rafe! are you fucking crazy? fucking drive the truck, now!” you shout, hands shaking and breathing choppy.

he ignores you, simply pressing his foot on the gas and speeding down the road, his tires slightly screeching as he does. you press your back firmly against the seat, arms crossed over your chest as you watch dim street lights and dark outlines of the trees fly by.

rafe makes a sharp right turn, pulling his truck into an empty, dark parking lot. he places the truck in park, quickly killing the engine and tossing the keys to the floorboard. you run a hand down your face, a scoff leaving your lips.

“why the fuck are we here? take me the fuck home.”

he doesn’t answer, his silence slowly grating on your nerves.

“rafe! are you gonna say anythin-”

he cuts off your words, his hand reaching out and wrapping tightly around your throat. you wrap a hand around his wrist, trying to pry him off, but it’s no use. his fingers tighten around the expanse of your neck, pressing firmly into your pulse point. he gives a low hum, leaning his face in close to yours, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“god you’re fucking infuriating, such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he stops, his eyes flitting down to your lips, reveling in the way they’re slightly parted, loving the way your pulse beats rapidly against his fingers. his lips slightly brush against yours and you squeeze your thighs together. you need him, and you need him now. “what am i gonna do about that little fucking attitude of yours, hmm?”

your eyes find his, the normally bright and shining blue now dark. you inch your face closer to his the best you can, and it’s just enough to press your lips against his. rafe groans, releasing your throat, his hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you further into him. his tongue shoves its way past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours perfectly.

you moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping at the soft fabric of his shirt and pushing him back. both of your heavy breathing fills the cramped space of his truck, your eyes darting across his face, “rafe…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you say another word.

he fumbles with his belt, pulling it free from his jeans before popping the button and slowly guiding the zipper down. he removes the rough denim from his lower body, his boxers going with them. your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock, his tip swollen and already dripping with his arousal. he reaches over the center console, hands gripping your hips tightly and yanking you into his lap.

a low groan escapes him when your covered core rubs across his length, making him twitch beneath you. his hands pull at the waistband of your cotton shorts and you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs. he tosses them into the passenger seat, one hand firmly gripping at your hip while the other fists his cock, jerking himself as he keeps eye contact with you.

“fuck me, rafe. please?”

the words barely leave your lips before he’s pushing the head into your drenched hole, bottoming out in seconds. you both groan in unison, the feel of his large cock stretching you and the way your pussy tightly grips his dick making all the anger from moments ago wash away.

rafe presses his lips against yours, his mouth devouring you as he holds onto your hips, keeping you still as he pounds himself inside you from below. the head of his cock repeatedly hits at that sweet spot inside you, your body shaking in his hold and sweet moans of pleasure falling past your lips.

“r-rafe.. oh, god.” you mumble against his lips.

he pulls back, hard blue eyes on yours as he continues to brutally fuck himself into you. your pussy pulsates around him, your clit throbbing. you remove his hands from your hips, running them up your sides and placing them up your shirt. he cups your breasts, squeezing at them harshly. you begin lifting your hips, slamming yourself back down on him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“fuck, baby. ‘m so sorry, ‘m so fuckin’ sorry.”

you press your forehead against his, your lips beginning to slowly trail across his jaw and down to his neck. your teeth lightly nip at his sweat slick skin, loving the reaction it pulls from him.

“‘m sorry, too, rafe. i love you. fuuuck, i love you.”

your body trembles beneath his hold, rafe’s hands slowly and softly roaming your body, drinking in every bit of you with his hands. “i love you, too.”

the band snaps, your pussy clenching tightly around rafe’s cock, your orgasm rushing through you with a call of his name. rafe isn’t too far behind you, his dick twitching inside you. he shoves himself deep inside you, a raspy moan falling from him as he paints your inner walls white with his seed.

his body falls limp beneath you, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lie your head on his chest. his fingers begin to trace lazy shapes on your back, lips kissing softly at the space between your neck and shoulder.

you break the silence first, “i’m really sorry… i- i didn’t mean anything i said, i just-”

he lifts his head, cupping your face in his hands as he forces your eyes on his. “i know. i’m sorry too, i love you, y/n. i really fucking do.”

you smile down at him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. he pulls his hands from your face, allowing you to rest your head on his chest again. you find comfort in the silence this time, the strong beat of his heart against your face making your insides warm.

tagging a few moots: @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesangelita @rafeyscurtainbangs @drewsarms @drewsephrry @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @httpsdrewstarkey @redhead1180 @rafeinterlude

[seulw0nz]

ONE MISSION FOR TWO ENEMIES (LOVERS) ` ╰ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍

✶ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝑖𝐒 ⦂ agent!riki ୨୧ agent!reader ｡｡ fluff, one shot, ⟡ 5OOwc.─ tw. skinship, kisses ( 𝓐𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 )

DANiELLE : for my riki girls (specifically cough cough sia) >0< hope you enjoy it

the mission was simple: get the intel and get out. except with riki, nothing was ever simple.

“would you stop breathing down my neck?” you whisper-yell, pressing your back against the cold brick wall of the alleyway. his smirk is infuriatingly visible even in the dim light.

“sorry, sweetheart. didn’t know my presence bothered you so much,” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath brushing against your ear.

your glare could cut steel. “bothered? please. i’d just rather not have you messing this up like last time.”

“last time wasn’t my fault,” he defends, his voice low but playful. “you were the one who tripped the alarm.”

you scoff. “tripped the alarm? i was covering your ass when you couldn’t hack the system in time.”

“hmm, pretty sure i remember saving your life.”

“and pretty sure you’re full of shit,” you bite back, peeking around the corner to assess the street. the coast is clear, but your instincts tell you to stay hidden a little longer. you suddenly realize how close he is—too close.

“riki,” you warn, turning your head slightly, only to freeze when your nose almost brushes his.

his dark eyes gleam with mischief. “what? i’m just… paying attention. like you said.”

“paying attention doesn’t require you being in my personal space,” you snap, but your voice wavers, betraying the fluttering in your chest.

“personal space? you’ve never complained before,” he teases, his voice dropping an octave. it sends a shiver down your spine, and you hate that he notices, his smirk widening.

you’re about to shove him back when footsteps echo nearby. he reacts instantly, pulling you closer, one arm circling your waist as he presses you flush against the wall.

“stay quiet,” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to your ear. your heartbeat quickens from the proximity.

the footsteps grow louder, then fade. but riki doesn’t move. instead, his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear time slows.

“what are you doing?” you hiss, but your voice lacks conviction.

his grin softens, “just… proving a point.”

before you can retort, his lips crash onto yours. his hand tightens on your waist, anchoring you to him as his other hand braces against the wall. your brain freezes, caught between the urge to push him away and pull him closer.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes sparkle.

“what the fuck, riki?” you demand, your voice breathy.

“you can’t say you didn’t enjoy that,” he quips, that damn smirk firmly in place.

“shut up and pay attention,” you snap, though your flushed cheeks betray you.

he chuckles, stepping back but not before brushing a strand of hair from your face. “sure thing, sweetheart.”

[starlightoru-gojo]

You already accepted the moment you said ‘yes’ to be in a relationship with Satoru Gojo that you won’t be always the priority. He is a busy man, he has a lot of priorities on his shoulders, you know how heavy the responsibilities were given to him unapologetically because he was named as the strongest. He’s just also a victim a the circumstances. During your relationship, Satoru missed a lot of important dates be it anniversaries, your birthday or even his yet you just always shrugged it off and tell him “It’s okay, Satoru. I understand.” Despite that, you choose to marry him because you love the man so much. You already know what you applied for, really. But, maybe, years of your patience snapped. You can’t just forgive him this time, now when it’s your son’s birthday and he’s not there.

The party’s over and no papa showed up. You organized everything with him yet he’s out of sight.

You looked at the remnants of the party, balloons everywhere, stickers and toys that are on the floor. It’s pretty messy. You started cleaning after all you can’t be tired not when your 2 year old son is helping you clean. You start by pulling out the ceiling decorations and then the walls. Your son is picking up toys and putting it in a box. You already talked him out to just let you do the work but is stubborn just like that. “Babe, let mama clean, okay?” You said grabbing the designs off the wall, you baby just looked up and smile at you then to the front door “Papa home?” Your eyes wide in shock while he looked at you with hopeful eyes. You climbed down the ladder you’ve been using to picked up your son. He yawned when you kneeled in-front of him. “You’re waiting for Papa?” He just nod and rub his watery eyes from lack of sleep. Your heart aches so you just hugged him just to give him comfort or just maybe for you too. You can’t really forgive Satoru this time. “Uhm maybe tomorrow? Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when Papa’s here.”

Your son choose to sleep on the couch because you are washing the dishes and wants to looked at you or more like guard you. He is very protective of you, just like his father. But seeing his small figure curled in the sofa makes you melt and soft.

“Acting like a man, are you?” You pinch his chubby cheek, staring at your handsome son. You sat on the floor mat, watching your precious meat bun. His cheeks looked like xiaolongbao. Lifting him carefully, you carry your son who adjusted himself on you hugging your neck. You cooed, you’re about to walk upstairs when your front door opened. You stared at Satoru who just walked in with tons of gift in his hands. He looked at you apologetically and you just leave him there.

“Hey… babe-“ he grab your waist before you can even walk further.

“Not right now. Don’t even start, Satoru.” You calmly said but with full of conviction. Satoru looked at you with his pleading eyes.

“Okay. Just let me carry my son, please.” Your heart ache, clenching your jaw. You don’t know, but you just suddenly became very protective of your son that you just walk out in front of his father.

“Babe, please…” Satoru followed you upstairs pleading but you’re just furious just by looking at him. You can’t just forgive him just because you let him every time. Tucking your son on his bed and kissed his forehead and whispered a sweet good night. Satoru watched you did all of it. He knew he messed up and you’re easy when it comes to your son. You both quietly move out the room but Satoru immediately talk.

“Y/n.” grabbing your hand to stop you from walking away. Your home was lightly illuminated, serene and quiet, it was over all peaceful but your heart isn’t. You just looked at him with indifference that made Satoru flinch.

“You promised, Satoru.” You coldly said.

“I know. And I’m sorry,” He said with pain in his chest. It wasn’t his intention, he was about to go home when things just haywire, he could have just leave the mission but the higher ups will just not let it that way. “It’s wasn’t my intention. Babe, you know I would never do that to my son—“

“But, you did. I let you off every time, accepted your apologies, you could even leave us a message that you trapped in some far away land! You know what, just be clear with us! I openly accepted that I am not the priority but not with my son, Satoru. This was not the first time you let him hanging—“ your tears fell remembering how your son would wait in your front door because his father promised he would bring him sweets and was meet with nothing. “Just… don’t make promises you won’t fulfill, Satoru. Don’t hurt him anymore.”

You saw how Satoru opened his mouth to say something but closed it. You let go of his hand, walking towards the living room where you left the cleaning to attend to your son first. Wiping your tears and just focused on the chores.

Satoru followed after picking up the party poppers and carrying the chairs. You’re both silent, minding each other’s business. You can feel Satoru’s gaze and you can’t help but ache you don’t want this but you’re just angry right bow. Satoru’s the one who finished grabbing the designs on the ceiling, you watched him, shoulders slouch and tired eyes. But you shrugged it off, he should know that he just hit your limit. His carrying boxes while your just wiping some stains on the floor when you heard small steps scurrying.

“Papa!” You and Satoru immediately looked at the little one slowly going down stairs. Satoru who is about to carry a big box stopped and looked at you. You watch him but teared off your eyes when you saw how your son excitedly run towards his father. You watched how Satoru deal with his son.

Kneeling in front of your son, Satoru, watched him closely, apologizing or whatever you can see in his eyes yet his son was looking at him with glimmer in his eyes. Satoru gulped trying so hard to stop his tears.

“Happy birthday, big boy.” You can hear Satoru’s strained voice, his eyes water and you looked away. “I’m sorry if Papa was not here, earlier.” Satoru hugged his son, apologizing. Your son just hugged his father back with a confused look on his face.

“Papa gift?”

You scoffed. Both Satoru and your son looked at you. Two pairs of beautiful blue eyes are watching you closely. You chuckle while wiping your tears walking towards your boys. For all the things that happened the only thing that matters is his gift.

You snatched your son away and jokingly squinting at Satoru on the ground. “Where’s your son’s gift?”

[marooningmirrorball]

Splattered Coffee and Spare Blouses

A/n: hello lovelies! this is my first ever fanfic so please be kind to me when you read this 🫣 any sort of feedback will be appreciated🤞also there is no physical description of reader, that picture was just the first cute white blouse that i saw on pinterest. i hope you like it!

content: coworker!rafe x coworker!reader

content warnings: complete ooc rafe, like not even a little bit canon. jealous rafe. desperate reader and rafe. idiots in love fr. coworkers/office au (?)

word count: 1.2k words

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

Rafe is too busy drinking in the sweet melody of your voice to catch the actual content of your conversation with Matt. Or is it Mark? Mason? It doesn’t matter what his name is, the only relevant thing about the guy is that he delivers the paper to the office, and Rafe knows they’re getting a paper restock when he hears the tee-heeing of your giggle aimed at something supposedly funny that Miles joked about as he stacks the reams of paper on the tall shelves behind your desk.

You don’t actually ‘tee-hee’, it’s more of a soft chortle. Rafe likes to think he knows the difference, he tries to bypass these dreary office hours by studying each laughter.

First he takes in the sound and how much it made his heart clench, then he looks at your expression; happy, shy, nervous, anxious (he’s even found the difference between those two!), angry. Lastly he takes in the context of the laugh.

It’s definitely a titter when your boss is reprimanding your newest co-worker with the frosted tips, it’s a hodgepodge of a shy-nervous giggle when your boss is reprimanding you, and it’s absolutely a guffaw when Rafe delivers a joke he’d been meticulously planning before he presents it to you.

It usually doesn’t matter what type of laugh it is, the soundwaves from it wrap his heart up and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until Rafe forces himself to leave the room, because it can’t be normal to feel this way about a girl you've only been working with for the last three months.

But this isn’t all those other times, it's that unusual time of the month. What could a man who delivers paper to a pool coverings company possibly say to make you let out that joyous sound? What does a pool company even need paper for? Rafe, running his pointer finger along the rim of his coffee mug, comes up blank when he starts to really think about the former rhetorical question, he’s not too sure he ever wants to interact with Mike that will allow him to find out.

Too late. The kerfuffle Rafe accidently caused due to clumsy hands and an even clumsier brain leaves his (luckily) empty mug toppled, but Rafe’s not so blessed when his fallen over mug lands on his pen, triggering it to leap from his desk and splatter into your (unluckily) full mug.

You spin around in your chair at the commotion of Rafe’s, “Shit!”.

Rafe thinks being shot in the big toe would be less painful than this. It’s a Grade A Disaster. All he can see is the deep brown liquid dispersed in sporadic splats all over your previously white blouse.

“Holy shit, are you alright?”, Marcus is pulling out his handkerchief, of course Paper guy carries a handkerchief, in record time, dabbing away at the marks that have the clear intention to find a permanent home on your work top.

Rafe isn’t given a chance to play hero, before Milo is badgering, “Man, why are you doing trick shots right now? Aren’t you a sales guy?”, Rafe; however, is too mortified to think about a snarky comeback as he instead spews out a stumbled apology.

“Y/N, I-I am so so sorry– tha-that really wasn’t on purpose! I-I can–I will replace your shirt after work, I’m so sorry!”, it all comes out jumbled and untidy. A red-faced Rafe runs a hand down his face in exasperation before he’s suddenly up and grabbing at the fallen dishware, “Let me just-let me go get you some paper tow-”

You put an end to his unnecessary apologies with a gentle touch to his right hand that possesses the culprit. Rafe thinks his heart actually stopped.

The grin you bless him with manages to calm him down, “Rafe, you're okay! Don’t stress about it–really. It’s an old blouse anyway.”

And…what?

Rafe just managed to completely demolish your clothes, yet it’s you who is showing him kindness in this weak moment, “Look, if you’re really bummed out about it and want to reimburse me, I do need to go to the mall after this so…”, you drag out and let him fill in the blanks.

So did the mug actually fall onto Rafe’s head? Did he fall into a state of unconsciousness and wake up in a dream land? This can’t be real.

The scoff and retreat of Marcello’s boots snap him out of his thoughts, this is his life. This is his life and he has been staring at you in disbelief for too many silent seconds because you quickly begin to slip the offer out of his hands, “Uhh–well you don’t really have to join me to shop, I just thought since-”, now you're interrupted by Rafe’s reassurances,

“No! Wait–I mean yes! Erm I don’t actually know what I’m meaning to say”, you think the blush sporting his face has got to be the cutest thing you’ve possibly ever seen as he carries on, “I would love to come with you, please!” Jesus, he thinks, try sounding more desperate, he quickly corrects himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be cool if I join along. I-If you don’t mind obviously…” he trails off, unsure and not wanting to impose, despite you literally just inviting him.

The shyness is evident in your voice when you softly say, “No, it would absolutely be fun if you came with”, God, you think, why did I add absolutely in there, he’s gonna think I’m desperate.

“Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

Henry, your coworker with the frosted tips, stands at the corner of Rafe’s desk with his arms crossed, “Can I get some paper or do I need to wait another five minutes until your flirting is done?”

The both of you cower slightly in embarrassment at his teasing, but don’t let it dim the bright smiles adorning your faces. Rafe is sure that there’s nothing in this moment that could, he just scored a hang out with the female coworker that he’s been crushing on for weeks now! Not even the sight of smug Martin could kick him off this high right now.

Your too-old desk chair groans as you stand from it, and suddenly Rafe’s worried that Henry’s comment may have bothered you, “Where are you going?”, his rushed tone causes a giggle to escape you,

“My top is still soaked Rafe”, you gesture to the stained garment with a laugh, “I’m just gonna fetch the spare in my car. What? Do you want to walk with me there too?” Rafe misses the joking lilt of your voice because he’s up and walking towards the reception before you can stop him.

When the two of you return from your car, you with a clean (albeit slightly wrinkled from sitting in your ‘just in case’ bag) blouse on and Rafe with a bashful expression, Henry wiggles his eyebrows at the pair of you, implying something out of nothing. You both ignore it and get back to your work, not without the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you know the other isn’t looking.

Long forgotten are Max’s bad jokes and flirting, Henry’s annoying teasing, and this afternoon’s coffee disaster as you and Rafe walk side by side in the mall, he doesn’t think life can get better than this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

[damiansgoodgirll]

don’t break my heart 8 i can’t wait 💕💕

I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG…part 9 is already in the making!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.

rhea ripley x reader (platonic) / damian priest x reader (platonic) / drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️this chapter contains topics like fear of abandonment, negative thoughts, loneliness, panic attacks, fear of rejection, paranoid reader, anxiety, angst in general‼️

DON’T BREAK MY HEART - PART 8

it was bad blood weekend and you were a nervous wreck. you didn’t know why but you had a sixth sense, feeling that it was going to be bad. in your mind you saw rhea and damian losing. you saw drew and punk destroying each other and you were terrified because you couldn’t do anything to prevent all of that. it was just your imagination - you told yourself - but as the days passed, your feelings got worse and in less than two hours from the start of the show, you were completely terrified.

adam forbid you to go and help rhea, meaning that she was alone out there. you knew she didn’t need your help to win a match, especially against liv morgan, but you never knew what the judgment day was up to.

you saw how drew trained himself this week, you knew he was ready for the match, but having him, alone, in a cell with punk, was scaring you. he told you multiple times that no matter the outcome, he would make punk see hell, and by now, you knew that drew was serious. he didn’t care about winning or losing, he wanted this to be a revenge on punk, for costing him the world title.

as you were all backstage, you could feel the tension. drew tried to stay calm, especially seeing how agitated you were, but truth was, he wasn’t calm either. he was ready for that match.

the hell in a cell match was going to be the first one, probably the most anticipated match of the night.

“be careful out there okay?” you whispered as he finished getting ready.

“i will, i promise” he tried to reassure you but you didn’t really believe him.

chuckling, you looked up at him “you won’t, i know you…i already see blood and tears so please, don’t be the one i see bleeding in my imagination” you tried to be sarcastic but deep down you know that there was a huge possibility of drew coming back with blood and deep cuts.

“well, then you have a large imagination” he joked “i can’t promise you that but i promise you that i’ll be careful okay?” he smiled down, trying to reassure you as best as he could.

rhea and damian were both getting ready for their matches so they weren’t watching punk and drew completely destroying each other, meaning you were left alone in your little changing room watching the show on the tv screen in front of you.

drew wasn’t careful. you saw blood during the first fifteen minutes of the match. both men were heavily bleeding. you wished they stopped at the tables and chairs but they both went too far. you could hear the crowd cheering but there was an heavy tension backstage, as if this wasn’t supposed to happen.

of course you knew there was going to be blood and a lot of brutality but for a minute you thought that it was too much. thirty minutes into the match and both men had no intention of stopping. more blood, more violence, more gore. you quickly left your changing room and walked around backstage, you had no intention of finishing that match.

you tried, but seeing drew like that was too much for you.

“girl where are you going?” you heard jey’s voice calling you when he saw you wandering around with nowhere to go “come here!” he gently smiled and pulled you into a bigger locker room. him and few people of the crew were watching the match.

“oh god…” you whispered seeing how badly injured was drew. you saw the big jump he took on the metal stairs and how hard he hit his back. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to get that image out of your head - he broke his back - you thought - it’s over for him. you didn’t care who was going to win, you just wanted the match to be over. luckily a few minutes later, punk finished his moves on drew, making him the winner of the match.

you could see that neither of the men were able to stand properly. punk fell on his knees and drew was still trying to catch his breath inside of the ring. it was an hell of a match but it was too much for you. you just wanted to get to drew and hug him, comfort him.

you excused yourself from jey and the rest of the crew and sprinted out towards the entrance but security stopped you, telling you that drew needed to be medicated first.

your mind was racing. rhea was getting ready for her match. damian was getting ready for his match. drew was being medicated somewhere in the backstage and you were standing there alone with your thoughts as people kept working around you. you felt small, too small.

you didn’t care - you needed to know how drew was doing so you walked towards the medical area and when you saw him getting his wounds cleaned, your stomach turned on you.

drew saw you and he weakly smiled at you, aiming for you to come in.

you didn’t know what to say. he didn’t know what to say. but the sight of blood made you sick so you tried to look anywhere in the room expect him.

“y/n…” his rough voice called you.

“hey…” you walked a little closer till you sat down next to him “you promised me that you would have been careful” you joked, making him slightly chuckle.

“i’m here, alive…that’s a promise” he smiled, looking at you.

“you got everyone worried…you got me so fucking worried, drew i thought i lost you” you didn’t mean to sound so weak, you didn’t mean to let everyone in the room know about your relationship but you couldn’t help your emotions.

“hey…i’m okay, i’m here…just some cuts but i’m okay, i promise you” drew reassured you to keep you calm but deep down he knew he failed. he wanted to show you he was capable of doing it but he failed and he was ashamed of himself. he knew that you would have never judged him but that wasn’t what his mind was telling him “hey y/n…do you mind if i rest a little bit? i feel like i just need to close my eyes” he wanted - needed - your comfort but he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

you were taken aback from his demand but you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. after what he just been through, he needed to rest, he needed time for himself “absolutely…let me know if you need anything okay?” he smiled softly kissing your cheek before letting you go.

feeling a little down you hoped to meet either damian or rhea backstage but none of them was anywhere to be found.

damian was next and he was about to enter the ring so you sat backstage and watched the match with a little anxiety as he was going to face finn. after everything he put you through you knew that all you wanted to see was damian destroying finn but the judgment day was going to interfere and he was there all alone. anxiously you watched the match and couldn’t help your happiness the moment he won. even if the judgment day tried to help finn, they all failed miserably and you couldn’t help but laugh.

as time passed you waited for rhea’s match. she trained so hard for this moment and you knew that she was more than ready to fight back. she had this match, she had this moment and no one was going to take it away from her, especially liv. she didn’t have dom’s help and she was there all alone. you knew rhea was going to win. she had to win. it was such an easy match for her, plus seeing dom in that cage made you laugh - he had what was coming for him.

so what did go wrong?

no one expected to see raquel back. she wasn’t in the script, she wasn’t in the plan.

rhea won by disqualification but liv still held the title, she still held the crown and no matter how good rhea was, she knew it would have been hard to get her title back.

you stayed there, watching as liv and raquel along with dom celebrated over rhea’s lost and your heart broke for her even more. she didn’t deserve all of that.

wondering what to do, you let rhea have some time for herself before you could join her in her changing room.

around fifteen minutes passed and you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to see her, to comfort her and to let her know that she did amazing no matter the outcome. seeing the two most important people of your life losing on the same day made your heart sank.

slowly approaching her changing room, you softly knocked on her door and stepped in when she said so.

but she probably wasn’t expecting to see you because her nose scrunched a little too much for your liking.

“rhea…you were so great out there, you had the match in your hands…” she didn’t even let you finish.

“yeah but i lost. again, once again i don’t have my title, so who cares if i was the best one out there? listen, i need time alone” she was clearly upset and you couldn’t blame her.

“rhea…” you whispered. it pained you seeing her talking so low of herself.

“i don’t wanna talk” she spat back.

“rhea…”

“no! i don’t wanna talk! i don’t wanna talk or see you!” - oh, she was mad but with you?

“rhea what?” you weren’t used of her screaming at you, you weren’t used of fighting with her.

“i lost! i fucking lost against that liv morgan and where were you? i needed you, but you weren’t there?” she waited a few seconds before start screaming at you again “where the fuck were you!” this version of rhea scared you.

“rhea you knew i couldn’t! the management said…”

“i don’t give a shit about what they said! i needed you and you weren’t there! i’m always here for you and for one time where i needed your support, you weren’t there! fuck!” she knew better than to scream at you, knowing she would have triggered some memories of your past but anger was taking the best of her and she didn’t care about you or anyone at the moment.

“rhea i’m sorry…” tears in your eyes.

“i don’t care! now go, i need to stay alone!” she said turning her back on you.

you slowly walked away, letting all of your tears fall down.

you needed to talk with someone, anyone yet drew was probably sleeping and damian wasn’t answering his phone, too busy celebrating his victory.

you were alone - again.

liv was right. finn was right. you would ended up being alone. rhea was going to leave and it was just a matter of time.

you needed to leave the arena as soon as possible.

you felt like the space around you was suffocating you. the air was thick and you struggled breathing. what was going on?

walking fast through the corridors, you took a deep breath when you saw one of the emergency exit and the big orange door right in front of you. quickly pushing the door open, you took a deep breath when you felt the cold air hitting your face, you were free - you thought.

but your chest was still heavy and the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

you took your phone out of your pocket and quickly called damian, hoping he was going to answer this time. “come on damian…please, please…” but you were met again with his voice recording saying to leave a message if needed. where was he?

you needed to go back to the hotel as soon as possible but with no rental of your own was pretty hard. wiping your tears away and calling an uber, you tried to act as everything was normal even if you were slowly dying inside. everything was so wrong and the worst part is that you couldn’t do anything about it.

as if the night wasn’t already ruined, the uber driver was a fan. you didnt mind talking with fans - you could talk about wrestling all day long - but your mind wasn’t in the right place at the moment and all you could focus on was the fact that once again you were alone. you tried to be polite but all you wanted was to get away from that small space and breathe fresh air again. as you got out, you couldn’t help the tears falling down your cheeks. you felt pathetic, crying over nothing. the words liv and finn said to you echoing in your head - how you would ending up being alone - and the things was you started to believe them.

why were you being so paranoid? drew was sleeping, the match took a big tool on him but that didn’t mean he hated you or he didn’t want to see you. damian was celebrating his victory somewhere with his family, friends and probably some models too. but if you were family too, why didn’t he invite you? and rhea was mad. you still couldn’t point out if she was mad because she lost the match and needed someone to blame or if she genuinely was mad at you for not interacting with her during the game. she knew you couldn’t. she knew that if you intervened, both of you would have gotten in big trouble with the management, risking up to month fine without wrestling. did she really wanted that?

your mind was spinning and you tried to reach your bedroom as fast as you could.

in the meantime, damian was at the arena, he didn’t leave, he stayed there the whole time finishing up some interviews and even if he wanted to go out and drink something with his family, he was tore down and all of his body ached - he couldn’t wait to go back to bed.

“…thank you so much damian” jackie thanked him once he finished his interview, leaving him there in his changing room.

taking a deep breath, he took his phone out of his pocket and grew immediately worried when he saw all of your missed calls.

he tried to call back but your phone went immediately on silent mode, as if it was turned off.

weird - he thought - you never turned your phone off.

walking to find rhea, she was nowhere to be found. he knew she was a hothead and he knew that she probably wanted to stay alone.

his only option was drew and he prayed the man was still in the arena. someone from the staff told him that drew was still in the medical bay so he walked over there, asking from time to time if anyone had seen you.

knocking on drew’s door, the scottish man let him in.

“damian…” drew definitely wasn’t expecting him. he was hoping it was you.

“how are you man?” damian genuinely concerned about drew’s condition after the rough match he had in the cage with punk.

drew chuckled a little before letting his real thoughts out “i’m glad to be alive you know? i wasn’t expecting this much violence but it was one hell of a match, i felt better to be honest” he joked “i’ll be okay, thanks…”

“listen man, have you seen y/n? she called me a few times earlier and i couldn’t answer but when i tried to call her back it goes straight to her voicemail…” damian directly asked drew.

drew knew you never turned your phone off so he was taken aback from damian’s words “i saw her once the match was over, she came here and we talked a little bit…then i asked her if…well, i asked her if she could leave, i wanted to sleep a little…”

“and…?”

“and she left. she probably wasn’t expecting my request” drew took a deep breath “i just needed some time alone you know? i haven’t seen her since then, but i checked my phone a few minutes ago and she hasn’t called me. have you tried rhea?”

damian shook his head “rhea is nowhere to be found. she needs time to cool off after her match, i don’t think she saw y/n…i just feel like it’s weird, she has called me five times and now her phone is like dead…” worried look painted his face.

drew stood up immediately from the couch he was sitting and checked damian’s phone as he tried to call you once again.

“dead line…” damian whispered.

where were you?

back at the hotel, you quickly paced around the room, trying to focus on something, anything that could have helped you relax and yet nothing was working.

your hands began shaking and while you reached for your phone, you saw that it died while you were walking to the hotel. looking for a charger, you threw your suitcase upside down and when you found it, you plugged it into the wall and rapidly waiting for your phone to turn on.

“come on…” you whispered. you didn’t know what you were actually waiting for. damian wasn’t going to answer anyway and drew said he needed time for himself, leaving you with no options at all.

as your phone turned on, you saw the missed calls from both damian and drew and a shaky breath left your lips.

you didn’t even have time to call one of the boys back that an incoming call from drew appeared on your home screen.

taking a deep breath you answered his call.

“y/n?” drew asked the moment you answered.

“drew…” your voice shaking. what were you crying for? he answered and yet you couldn’t find peace.

“y/n, what’s going on? baby, why are you crying?” drew’s heart broke when he heard your soft sobs from the phone.

“i…i don’t know, i don’t know what’s going on…drew i, i can’t breathe…i don’t know what to do…” clearly panicking again, drew needed to know exactly where you were.

“y/n where are you? i’m coming to get you” he was worried and his heart was racing.

“what? no, no drew you need to rest, i…you stay there and-…”

“cut the bullshit y/n, where are you?” he hated being so severe with you but he needed to know what was going on and if you were in any type of danger.

“at the hotel…my room” was all that you were able to say before drew spoke again.

“we are coming to get you…” he said before cutting the call off.

was he really coming for you? were you really so pathetic that you needed him? did you wake him up just because you were acting stupid again?

your mind couldn’t stop those horrible thoughts and all you wanted to do was disappear, pretend like you never existed - maybe everyone life would be better without you.

what if rhea had a better teammate? what if that teammate would have broken the rules for her? what if you are the reason the judgment day broke up? were they really so tired of you? what if drew had a girlfriend who was normal and not acting crazy like you did?

you tried to breath as drew taught you but you couldn’t. and the idea of drew seeing you like this again was killing you. you made so much progress and now you felt like you fucked everything up.

you were sat on the floor, your back on the edge of the bed as you tried to calm yourself down when you heard the hotel room door opening.

a very bruised drew sat on the floor with you, right in front of you while damian stood behind, clearly worried about you.

“y/n…baby, what’s wrong?” drew’s voice was soft. the moment he met your eyes, he knew something wrong had happened.

“i’m sorry…i’m so sorry i shouldn’t have called, damian you don’t have to be here…you should be out celebrating your victory and-…”

but damian wasn’t agreeing with you “the hell? hermosa, what’s going on? i’m sorry i didn’t answer before but i’m here now, we are both here…”

“yes that’s the problem! you shouldn’t be dealing with me! you have a life and worse problems than to stay here with me!” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling “i told you drew, my head is a fucking mess, i don’t deserve you, i don’t deserve any of you…all i do is complain and fucking up, i’m just a burden to everyone and”

“what the heck are you talking about darling…look at me” his big calloused hands gently lifted your face “look at me love” while his thumb was wiping your tears away “i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, i wish i knew but i don’t…” he spoke softly to you “you’re not a burden, listen to me, you’re not a burden. don’t listen to what those voices in your head are saying, listen to me…you’re everything to me, i love you so much and it’s okay to cry, to feel lost, but i’m here, your family is here and we aren’t leaving you…” he really hoped that you could listen to him.

opening his arms for you, he gently let you lay your head on his shoulder. his hands stroking your back as if he wanted to calm you down, knowing how much you craved for physical touch.

drew and damian knew that you needed help and they were both right there for you. they knew you were strong and yet so fragile. they knew the toxic environment you came from, they knew that you feared of being left behind, alone. they knew that somehow, no matter how much love they showed to you, you still felt alone. and they knew that you get easily overwhelmed by the smallest things. people screaming, making too much noise or breaking things - that would wake terrible memories.

“yet she did…” you whispered, closing your eyes because the idea of your mind playing flashbacks of what happened with rhea earlier was enough to send you on the edge.

“who?” damian asked.

“rhea…she left, and it’s all on me” tears couldn’t stop falling from your eyes.

damian and drew exchanged a worried look. you two were practically inseparable.

what did rhea do?

[purplephantomwolf]

Tethered Time

Logan Sargeant Soulmate AU

Chapter Two

Synopsis: Everyone has a timer on their wrist. It counts down the time until you hear your soulmates voice for the first time. After you hear their voice, it changes to the time until you meet them for the first time.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings for this chapter: None

Previous Chapters: Chapter One

Masterlist

I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER SO IF I MISSED ANYTHING I AM SORRY AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW. This is the last chapter as an OC rewrite.

December 25, 2022

10 months 4 days

     “We have one last gift for you, Y/n,” your mom says, handing you an envelope. You grab it from her, tearing it open. You look inside and drop it in shock. Multiple paddock passes fall out of it. 

     “Oh my god! You didn’t!!” You shout, picking them up. You see passes for multiple races. 

     “Since Logan is in Formula 1 now, we got you two passes for every race in North America but Las Vegas. We figured this would be a Christmas, birthday, and college graduation present all wrapped into one,” my dad says.

     “Thank you so much! This, this is amazing,” you grin. You launch yourself at your parents in a hug. They laugh and hug you back. You do a little happy dance, before grabbing the passes. You inspect them, grinning. 

     “We figured you’d take Tucker to at least one race,” your mom says. 

     “I will probably take him to every race, considering you guys don’t like watching it,” you shrug. Your parents nod. You set your passes down, grabbing your phone to call Tucker. 

     “Merry Christmas!” He greets you. 

     “How would you like to go to four Formula 1 races this year?” You ask, not bothering to greet him. The line goes silent. “Tucker?” You prompt him. 

     “Are you serious?” He shrieks in your ear. You pull your phone away from your ear, wincing. 

     “Yes, I’m serious. My parents got me two passes to almost every race in North America this year,” you tell him, grinning. 

     “Yes! YES! I would love to go!” He yells, causing you to pull your phone away from your ear again. “Where do we sit at each of them?!” He asks, excited. 

     “They’re paddock passes,” you explain. You pull your phone away again, knowing he’s about to yell again. 

     “HOLY SHIT, Y/N! TELL YOUR PARENTS I LOVE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH!” He screams. You turn to your parents, and they’re covering their laughter. 

     “We love you too, Tucker,” your mom calls out to him. 

     “I’ve got to go now, Y/n, but we will be discussing details of this later,” Tucker says. 

     “Sounds good. Merry Christmas, Tucker,” you say. He wishes you a merry Christmas before hanging up. You grab the passes to go put them somewhere safe. 

     You sprint down the stairs to thank your parents again. “Thank you again!” You hug them again. 

     “Of course, we want you to get every chance you can to meet Logan, so we thought this would be good,” your mom says. Your dad nods in agreement. 

     You smile at them before starting to mess around with the new camera lens they got you. 

************************************************************************

May 5, 2022

5 months 24 days

     “I can’t believe we’re actually in Miami to watch a Formula 1 race,” Tucker says, his head going every which way as we enter the paddock. Your head is also turning every which way, trying to see everything you can.

     “I can’t believe it, too. Come on! Let’s go look at the hospitalities!” You grab his arm, dragging him towards where you can see the hospitalities. We spend the next 10 minutes looking into as many hospitality windows as possible. “This is so cool!” You laugh happily. 

     Tucker sees something and takes off. “Come on, Y/n!” He shouts over his shoulder. We’re in front of the Williams hospitality. You linger, not wanting to leave. You know that there’s still basically 6 months until you meet Logan, but you’re hopeful that you’ll still get a glimpse of him in person before then. “Y/n, let’s go! I want to get some Ferrari merch before it sells out!” Tucker calls out to me. 

     “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You say, turning to follow him. You take off after him, not looking back at Williams hospitality. You catch up with him and head towards the area selling merch. “I want to grab some Williams merch,” You say, when you arrive. You split up in the store to go to the different team sections. You grab a Logan hat and a Williams jacket and head towards the check out. Tucker appears behind you, and you laugh when you see his arms loaded with Ferrari merch. “Got enough merch?” You snicker. 

     “No, I need you to hold these for me,” he says, a serious look on his face. Your jaw drops in shock, before he breaks out in laughter. “I’m kidding, this is everything,” he says. You nod and you check out. 

     After checking out, you head up to the paddock club. You take a seat just as FP1 starts. 

************************************************************************

Logan’s POV

1 minutes 12 seconds

     I glance at my wrist and then around the hospitality. My timer says there’s only a minute left until I hear my soulmate's voice, but everyone around me are people I’ve talked to before. The door at the entrance opens, and I look up hopeful. I sigh in disappointment when James Vowels walks through the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” I hear a female’s voice say as the door closes. In an instant, I’m out of my seat, pushing past a confused James. My wrist is burning, but I ignore it. I slam the door open and sprint out. My head is whipping in every direction, trying to find the source of the voice. My face falls when I can’t pinpoint who the owner of the voice is. I glance down at my wrist and my face falls even more when I see 5 months and 24 days. 

     I head back inside the hospitality. I spot James and Alex standing at the door, watching me. “What’s the matter?” James asks me. 

     “I heard my soulmate’s voice, but I won't meet her for another 5 months, 24 days, and some hours and minutes,” I sigh. I get looks of pity from both Alex and James. I just shake my head and head downstairs to the garage. 

************************************************************************

Your POV

5 months 22 days

     “Man, what a disappointing race for Logan. To finish last at your home race must hurt,” Tucker sighs, as you walk out of the paddock. 

     “Yeah, I hope he has a good support system of friends to cheer him up,” you nod in agreement. 

     “If only you two had met before, you’re really good at cheering people up,” Tucker says, bumping shoulders with you. You grin, thanking him. 

************************************************************************

June 18, 2023

Canadian GP

4 months 11 days

     “No!” You shout when you see Logan’s car pull over to the side of the track. You groan, my head dropping into my hands. 

     “His car was giving off a critical error, so it’s good that he stopped,” Tucker shouts over the crowd of the noise and cars. You nod, letting him know you heard him. 

     “Still sucks though,” you grumble, arms crossed. You sigh and turn your attention back to the race. 

************************************************************************

October 22, 2023

COTA

7 days

     “How do you feel knowing you’ve got one week until you meet Logan?” Tucker asks as you lay in your beds at the hotel. 

     “Nervous, but excited. What if he doesn’t like me?” You turn to look at him. 

     “He’ll like you, it’s hard not to,” Tucker scoffs. His phone vibrates and he grabs it. 

    You turn away from him to stare at the ceiling. “Thanks, but can we talk about how amazing he did today?! He finished P12!” You exclaim. 

     “P10,” Tucker says. 

     Your head whips toward him, with a confused look on your face. “No, he finished P12.”

     “He may have finished P12, but he’s now P10 because Hamilton and Leclerc were just disqualified,” Tucker tells you, staring at his phone. He turns it towards you, and you read the article from Formula 1. 

     “OH MY GOD LOGAN JUST GOT HIS FIRST POINTS IN FORMULA 1!!!” You screech, flying out of bed. You do a little happy dance around the room. Tucker watches you, laughing. He holds his phone up, recording you. You stick your tongue out at him. “Yeah yeah, you can laugh. You’re just the same way when your boyfriend does something you’re proud of,” you wave your hand. 

     “I know,” Tucker grins, “This video is going to Carter.” 

     “Tell him hi for me,” you say, falling onto the bed. 

     “I will,” Tucker responds, typing away on his phone. 

************************************************************************

Logan’s POV

7 days

     “How do you feel about getting your first points?” Alex sits down across from me on the plane. 

     “Happy, excited,” I respond, grinning. I post the picture I took when learning that I earned points on Instagram. I subconsciously rub my fingers over the timer on my wrist. I notice Alex glancing at it. 

     “How much time is left?” He asks, leaning forward. 

     “7 days,” I breathe out. 

     His eyes widen, “Getting close then. Are you excited?”

     “Very, I’ve been waiting for this for years. But I’m also extremely nervous. What if she doesn’t like me? What if she doesn’t like what I do?” I rhetorically ask. 

     “Well, considering you heard her voice while at the Miami GP, and you meet her during the Mexico GP, I’m going to go with she likes what you do,” he points out. 

     “Yeah, you’re right. But that still doesn’t mean she’ll like me,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. 

     “I doubt she’ll dislike you, you’re a likable guy,” Alex says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got this. It’ll be okay.”

     “Thanks, Alex,” I sigh, looking up at him. 

     “Of course,” he nods, getting up to go sit with his girlfriend, Lily. 

     I close my eyes to sleep on the flight to Mexico.