#no because if it was just one of them i think it would be MAYBE understandable but. for there to be 2 voices they SHOULD recognize and

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly II

~ part 2 of the Dolly series

pairing: seungmin x afab!reader

genre: smut, college au

synopsis: your friends found it funny to buy you a sex doll and pose it in your bed to prank you.

wc: 7.7k

warnings: alcohol, thigh riding, handjob, cum tasting, unprotected sex, hand kink, nipple play, creampie, mentions of crying, choking, edging, spanking, hair pulling, pussy slap, oral(m), fingering

a/n: thank you @jehhskz for helping with the premise of this one🥹💕

~ maybe you'd like: Hyunjin dolly

~ divider by @bunnysrph

Another sleepless night.

Staring at your laptop screen, the letters start blurring and bleeding into one another, making the headache behind your eyes throb even more.

Exam after exam, you're becoming more jaded, feeling like you're high out of your mind when it's just lack of sleep.

As you scroll through a page you're researching for your paper, an advert pops out.

"Sex dolls?" you chuckle and click on it, even if it looks a bit shady.

You're taken to a stylish site, black background with big neon green letters asking you "What's your vibe for today?", and you scoff.

"Try dead inside." you say out loud and the letters flicker before disappearing, new text appearing on the screen, making you gasp.

"Feeling sarcastic, are we?" - it says and you shriek, quickly exiting the site and deleting the history.

How the fuck did it hear you?

Did they hack your laptop?

You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.

With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.

You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.

-

The room is totally spinning.

You are totally spinning.

You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.

You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.

They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.

"What?" you almost bark at them.

"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.

"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.

Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.

"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.

The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.

The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.

"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.

"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.

Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.

Shrugging, you make your way to your room.

Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.

One, two, three...

And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.

"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.

Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.

"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.

"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."

"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.

"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.

"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.

"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.

"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.

"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.

"Well, the six of us got some money together."

"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.

"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.

"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.

"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.

You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.

You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.

"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.

Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.

He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.

He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.

Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.

His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.

You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.

He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.

You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.

You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.

Hello,

my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.

I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.

Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.

"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.

A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.

My cutie!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.

"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.

"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.

You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.

"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.

You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.

You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.

"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.

Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.

It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?

Maybe even more important, why?

After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.

Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!

"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.

Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.

"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.

"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.

Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.

Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.

Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.

"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.

Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.

It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.

Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.

"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."

Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.

"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.

"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.

You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.

"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.

-

It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.

You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.

Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.

"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.

"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.

For some reason, you think he might be frowning.

"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."

The doll is quiet.

"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.

"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.

After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.

As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.

It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.

It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.

Maybe it was just in your mind.

Yeah, probably.

Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.

"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.

"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.

"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.

"Feeling territorial, are we?"

"N-no!" you blush instantly.

"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.

You sigh and make your way to your room too.

"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.

As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.

You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.

"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.

Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.

"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.

You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.

Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.

For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.

You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.

"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.

Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.

It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.

Oh no.

Your favorite shirt is gone.

You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.

Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.

You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.

"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"

"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."

"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.

"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.

Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.

You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.

Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.

"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.

He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.

"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.

It was only the beginning.

A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.

You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.

You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.

Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.

Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.

It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.

Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.

In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.

Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.

Seungmin.

Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.

After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.

Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.

"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.

"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.

"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.

You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?

Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.

He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.

"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.

His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.

His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.

You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.

You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.

You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.

"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.

You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.

Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.

This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.

You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.

You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.

"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.

"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.

"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.

You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.

"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.

Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.

"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.

You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.

There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.

With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.

"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.

"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.

After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.

Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.

You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.

All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.

It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.

Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.

You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.

A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.

Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.

For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.

You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.

You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.

And you were right.

Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.

You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.

He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.

He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.

Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.

The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.

I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.

"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.

A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.

Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.

He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.

Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.

He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.

Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.

He loves you.

So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.

He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.

-

Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.

With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.

You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.

"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.

You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.

Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.

He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.

His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.

"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.

"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.

You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.

"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.

"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.

"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.

"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."

"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.

"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."

"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.

"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.

"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.

"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.

"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.

He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.

Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.

You held him tighter, making him melt into you.

Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.

"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.

"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.

"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.

"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.

He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.

All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.

"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.

He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.

You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.

Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.

"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.

"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.

You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.

"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.

"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.

The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.

He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.

Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.

Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.

When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.

"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.

He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.

He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.

Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.

"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.

"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.

"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.

"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.

"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.

"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.

He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.

"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.

All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.

You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.

You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.

You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.

"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.

"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.

You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.

"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.

You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.

"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.

"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.

"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.

Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.

You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.

His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.

"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.

"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes." you say, breathless.

Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.

"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.

"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.

"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.

Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.

You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.

Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.

"What the fuck?!"

"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.

"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.

"I woke up-"

"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.

"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.

"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.

"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."

"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.

"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.

Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.

"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.

Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.

"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.

"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.

"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.

Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.

He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.

Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.

As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.

All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.

The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.

Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.

After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.

"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.

"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.

"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.

"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.

"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.

"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.

-

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.

He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.

"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.

"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.

"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.

You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.

You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.

Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.

"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.

You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.

You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.

"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.

It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.

Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.

You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.

You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.

You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.

"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.

Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.

Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.

"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.

He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.

"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.

"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.

"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.

Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.

He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.

You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.

When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.

"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.

Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.

"Let it." he begs.

"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.

"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"

"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.

"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"

"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.

"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.

"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.

"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.

"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"

"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."

"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.

"But-"

"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.

"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.

But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.

Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.

With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.

As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.

The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...

~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy @gwinamsgirlfriend @sofix-hc7 @poptrim @queerpumpkinnn @redlikemysoul @hyunjinslefteyebrow @frehyun @minluvly @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @sushiinmidnight @rei-reia @thequibbie @sblack91511915 @channiesfavitem @edevotion @leeknowinggg @charlieg1rl @spookwyrdie @estella-novella @alaskaortiga @hyunjinsruinedpainting @lucywindigo @miniverse-zen @sky00ung @rosekpopfanfic @maysoka @pixiiebutt @beaquokka @bookswillfindyouaway @cosmicrecs @seungiee-3 @blrzzz @minniesverse @o-0i @lee-knows-cats @ms-flowergirl @hyunjinhoexxx @lattyjiji @onlyleeknowsss @courtnort455 @qwonyoung23 @oreoqueen @nightmarenyxx @hongtyong @lashaemorow @1810cl

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[theoccultz]

How will your future spouse pursue you ?

Ok you guys the series is finally here

All of my pacs are queer friendly

It can be anyone, your s/o or your longterm connection

Pics and dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners @/saradika

Apologies for any mistakes

Let me know which pile you picked and don't be afraid to express your thoughts (:

Pile l . Pile ll. Pile lll.

🫀 Pile l.

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

>>> | Queen of swords , 4of wands , 5 of cups |

This person is gonna be competitive for your attention , they dont fall in love easily and when they do its ride or die , they are your typical bad boy stereotype that you see in the movies , they are someone who knows they are the best in the room this person's self esteem & self concept is amazing, their confidence speak for itself, they are someone who has seen a lot of things in life and their way of getting to you is very simple and straightforward, maybe in the past people weren't as actively pursuing you as you would love them too but this person is not like this , they are on your face they know they want you and they're gonna be sincere & upfront about it , this person is generally very quiet and people have a lot of ridiculous assumptions about them like they're a player etc etc but best believe me they're really not what others think of him , this person is hot asf , you could be a very stubborn person who takes decision carefully about their life and this will stress them out n,ot in a way to deceit anyone but they know they have to prove everyone wrong so that you see them truly for who they are awww:(

Anyways this person is very masculine in nature , they are gonna act as a mentor and a caregiver, you want this ? I got it , you need this ? Its on me ....and you're like wtf i can do that myself but its just their way to make you feel special , this person does not do that for everyone if they are doing 50% for you then they are gonna do 20% for their friends its like they value your connection a lot and they don't want you to feel like you're just like everyone else in their life , this person is gonna defend you in every situation be it with their family or friends they dont give a shit , this person is also very keen on you they notice everything about you , how you care for people what you like to wear so their another hobby will be gift giving they are very thoughtful and they'd love to make you smile . The four of wands with the five of cups rx is very much i don't want to see them sad , i don't want them to doubt our connection, i want to put efforts for them , i want to do SO much that this person never feel less about themselves, i feel like being with this person , one of the best things about them ...that you're gonna like is they are deadly whatever they do its 100% efforts they dont like to tease their partner even in a slightest way because they know words can stick with a person forever so they're very mindful ,people can envy this the most about you guys its like no one can say anything bad abt my partner if you're gonna be passive then i might play this game as well , they could have a scorpio mercury or virgo so whatever they say is gonna hurt the other person because scorpions and virgos are known for their details , they study people very deeply , whatever they say hold meaning.

This person is definately that cold hearted girl/ guy or you are because i'm picking up on this black cat energy from you and cats do not chose their owners instantly neither do they love everyone. I Also picked up on a very rockstar appearance like long hairs , leather jacket, ripped jeans , its so cool , they remind me of early 2000's era

How will they pursue you : competitively , your friends post you every week ?? ...i'm gonna post you everyday its that kind of person lol , the back of the deck I usually take that as an overall energy is ace of pentacle which is a very stable and set energy in its own so whatever they do , they do it to achieve victory , to be recognised, to show you that they are the shit (;

Channelled song :

Thank you for reading!!

🫀Pile ll .

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

| 10 of cups , strength, four of swords |

Ok so this is our cool guy /girl lmao

Even though they will be putting in efforts to pursue you , you shouldn't know that they are doing that , i feel like they will be pursuing you from the get go like this person on a random monday evening will just accept i have feelings for this person and i want them , now this person will try to make it seem like its all a coincidence, this could be a leo mercury or gemini they try to entertain people with their words but their words hold honesty which people cant always catch so they will try to make you feel comfortable like you should feel happy in their presence and it will satisfy them and they will replay this in their mind at night like oh this person laughed at my joke they touched me i made them happy and it brings a smile on their face , they might say or do things which will make you laugh take a scenario like OH ...and you're like what happened and this person is like deja vu darling i think we belong together the universe knows and its so cheesy but its also so cute , they like to break this barrier between you guys , this person will be friendly towards you , they will flirt with you , they're also very spontaneous and a little bit tricky they love to play with you , lets say you guys have a dinner plan and you're excited you're dressed up you have already reached the venue but they will purposefully show up late and when you text them they're like WHAT...? We had plans ? but they are just joking they are alrdy at the venue waiting for you to see them , they might even joke with you like oh i have 5 kids to feed ofcourse i'm late & its a very playfully banter , you play along like YOU match their freak ... its ridiculous you wanna be mad at them but you can't but i understand your feelings pile 2 and i validate 🙂‍↔️✋🏽

I really think this person is gonna steal your parents love like 😭✋🏽they are the favourite child now , this person has a tendency to play cool like they dont wanna give in first..... they want you to give in first its kind of a cute ego idk , let's take a scenario they say "love you " and you're like where's my " I LOVE YOU " and they're like yes "I LOVE YOU TOO" so petty 😭 they have this natural ability to piss you off , this is the type of person when someone would ask you guys ..."so who confessed first ??...they're gonna jump in like ofcourse it was them , they were crazy about me like you dont know i had to give in but its not true its the opposite. So as you can already guess their ass ? Dramatic ...but you cant say they are dramatic because they are gonna be MORE dramatic about it .

How will they pursue you ? With fear because i feel like they will mask their desire to make you theirs with humour you could start off as friends or colleagues so they cant be very open about their feelings because they feel like you are not focused on love and you might reject them so it's their little cute tactics to get to your heart yeah but they are gonna be very anxious about it they could even suffer from inferiority complex.

Channelled song:

Thank you for reading!!

🫀Pile lll.

For this series if you have any topic suggestion let me know I'll include it

• 3ofcoins, wheel of fortune rx , seven of swords rx •

This person will absolutely be focused on providing comfort to you whether it be emotional or sexual , they love to do things with you they love to hang out with you , they creatively express themselves, they are someone who's gonna listen to your rants they are gonna embrace every flaw & every good thing about you , you are gonna feel exposed in their presence there's something about this person knowing you more than you know them , they really love to spend time with you , i'm seeing this person pushing you towards better goals like your life is gonna improve being with them ,this person will be very happy for your success, they are gonna put you on pedestal they think you are more lovable than them and you deserve more than them and i can confidently say they'll always love you more than you love them its very sweet but also sad , they have insecurities yet they are here trying to soothe your heart, they are gonna apologise first its like they dont wanna lose you they know how to keep a connection you wouldn't need to worry this is a connection where you can let yourself just be you aint gonna walk on eggshells, they are mature , i feel like this person cannot express themselves through words so they prefer to write to you , take you to places with them , praise you infornt of others , make you something, i feel like this persons love is comforting and sweet , you are their equal and they want you to feel like that.

This person will definately engage more in your life , they are gonna be supportive towards you like a best friend, they will overgive to you , they can even say stuff like ...." as long as i'm here i'm gonna be there for you ".....they will hold your hand while you walk they will listen to your problems, they will embrace your silly nature , take you out , spend time with you " i'm getting this line you came and the other one is like you called " it went viral on tiktok i think its from a movie but yeah the energy is very much sweet

Oh you guys this is so sweet , you guys dont speak the same language? They're gonna learn for you we have that kind of person here , you know when they are in love they get hearty eyes it shows on their face and in their behaviour, those sneaky eye contacts , those blush when you are mentioned, the sincerity in their words ,its all there .

How they're gonna pursue you ? Its very passionate and being Passionate does not mean always having hots for each other and that is exactly how they will make you feel , you feel this wholeness i'm having a hard time describing it...its so divine...you know just so grateful and lucky to have a connection like this in this day n age , Yeah 😭this is sooooooo damnnn cuteee i'm scared of this person's energy its very intense , i mean your partner is into worshipping & if you like this then this is definitely your pile (:

Channelled song:

Thanks for reading!!

[reidmotif]

I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people. 

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times. 

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries. 

Pay more attention, I guess. 

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own. 

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

 The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action.  Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that. 

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it.  Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms. 

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment).  When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet. 

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life? 

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life. 

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him. 

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry,  out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God. 

Like, come on. Give me anything here. 

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now. 

Now? 

Now… 

Silence. 

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late. 

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home. 

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and- 

He wasn’t alone. 

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me. 

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them. 

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night. 

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching. 

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl. 

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction. 

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck- 

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her  within one of the only blind spots within the apartment. 

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?! 

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him. 

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.  

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly. 

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university. 

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras,  quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable. 

I’m  in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of  The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that. 

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me. 

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?” 

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.”  His smile turns into more of a smirk. 

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him. 

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity. 

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him. 

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.” 

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.” 

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was. 

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.” 

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring. 

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room. 

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do? 

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure. 

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted. 

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?” 

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was. 

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.” 

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.” 

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh. 

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly. 

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed. 

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes. 

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want. 

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him. 

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze. 

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me. 

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name. 

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed. 

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?” 

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated. 

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.” 

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure. 

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me. 

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself? 

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss. 

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment. 

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically. 

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy. 

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence. 

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly. 

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to. 

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face. 

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily. 

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.  

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?” 

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[saikenakoego]

Said I was gonna do this later so here I am!!

I know nobody asked me but I'm gonna do it anyway. Because who's gonna stop me? Someone asking?

Hah!!

Im gonna do this with ALL my OC's. Because I can, and because I love all my little creations!

Starting with my currently favorite vampire gal!

Samantha Morales, a.k.a. Sammy Moors

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

With direct answers from the girl herself, for extra cringe roleplay. My favorite.

1. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? If you have multiple, who's your favorite?

SM: I do sometimes. To try and remember what it felt to be human.

...

My favorite is my little green bunny. His name is Jacques.

2. Can you take care of a plant? What about a pet? Or a child?

SM: I can. But how well I'd do, can't tell. Being undead messes with your head a lot...

3. Can you describe your love interest?

SM: I could if I had one. Or if I could feel love. Or anything at all.

4. Do you look good in red?

SM: ...

SM: I prefer pink.

5. Speech, speech, speech! Will you give one? And what about?

SM: No. That kind of self-centered talk is for bloodsucker scum. You wouldn't catch me dead doing something as pretentious as that. They think they're so high and mighty, that they're superior to everything else. That they can take what they want and we'd never do anything about it. But they're nothing but insects, hiding away like cowards in the shadows while feeding off others like leeches. Disgusting and pathetic, weak little creatures unable to keep living by themselves. Parasites. Just the sight of them makes me want to rip them apart limb by limb, making them scream in agony as the life they've stolen leaves their body drop by drop, scurrying away and pleading for mercy as I crush their every bone to--

6. Who will you take advice from? And who WOULDN'T you take it from?

SM: I don't think anyone can really give me any advice that matters, but if I had to choose... Maybe Johnny. Kid's got a good head on his shoulders when it comes to the supernatural. Not like I need it though.

SM: But I'd never take advice from Silver. Too impulsive, and I already have me to worry about.

7. Describe yourself in three words

SM: Monster. Disgusting. Unsightly.

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate you?

SM: I hate puzzles. Wastes of time.

9. Do you empathize with non-sentient things?

SM: More than empathize, I envy them. I'm already unable to feel anything, at least they get to not think about it either.

10. What age do you want to be the most right now?

SM: I wanna be 13 again. Go back to when everything was okay...

11. You won the lottery. Spend, or save?

SM: I dunno. Maybe spend? We do need more silver rounds...

12. Do you like romance in the books you read?

SM: I... I think I used to like it? I can't recall...

13. Name one thing your parents taught you.

SM: Family is everything.

14. Would you agree with the term 'guilty pleasure? Do you have any?

SM: I won't give in to it. I won't, no matter how good it smells. How delicious its crimson gleam looks. How it makes my mouth water at the mere thought of it, I won't. I won't. I won't I--

15. What would you consider a waste of time, other than school and work?

SM: Anything that's too complicated. I have all the time in the world, but every second I waste is another second they live.

16. If money wasn't a limit, what would you wear?

SM: I'n fine with my outfit. I think Silver would be someone better to ask this to.

17. Do you like children?

SM: No. They wound too frequently.

18. Kissing: Tongue or no tongue?

SM: No kissing. That's disgusting.

19. Do you study before tests?

SM: I haven't done any tests in 2 years.

20. What do you like that nobody else does?

SM: Rare meat in burgers isn't too bad... Don't tell Johnny I said that.

21. What would it take for you to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

SM: Being a bloodsucker. Even if I can't feel anything, that's an immediate deal breaker.

22. Do you like being called pet names? Do you call others pet names? What's your go-to?

SM: I don't, but people have been calling me Sammy or Moors for so long that it feels weird when they don't do it. Old habits die hard, I guess. The only person I have a nickname for is Silver, and that's because he insists on being called Silver.

23. Stability or novelty?

SM: I've had my fill of novelty for a lifetime...

24. Honesty or charity?

SM: Honesty.

25. Safety or possibility?

SM: Safety.

26. Talent or effort?

SM: Effort.

27. Forgiveness or vengeance?

SM: VENGEANCE.

28. Would you date a fixer-upper?

SM: I'd rather not date anyone right now.

29. What recurring dreams do you have?

SM: The blood, it's everywhere... I'd rather not talk about it.

30. What would you do if you knew it would be forgiven?

SM: I... I'm not gonna answer that.

oc asks that reveal more than you think

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Ask them to describe their love interest.

Do they look good in red?

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

What age do they most want to be right now?

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Name one thing their parents taught them.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

Do they like children?

Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

What do they like that nobody else does?

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Stability or novelty?

Honesty or charity?

Safety or possibility?

Talent or effort?

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Would they date a fixer-upper?

What recurring dreams do they have?

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Support the author: all writing | book | ko-fi | Patreon

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on my phone kept reminding me, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say. 

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying. 

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken. 

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow. 

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?” 

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe? 

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

[vivwritesfics]

I had an idea for a fic I know you will write it perfectly! if you decide to, lestappen x sainz!sister readerx they are in a secret relationship and Carlos finds out the guys break up with her because he got mad. They realize the made a mistake and grovel until she forgives them and end it with soft smut?

i see this trope wayyy too much so i tried to take it in a different direction and made it fun instead

"No, Charles! I can't do this anymore!"

From the other end of the phone, your boyfriend tried not to giggle. Tried and failed. You covered the speaker on your phone in an attempt to hide the laughs from your brother.

Your brother who was hiding behind the door to make sure you broke up with his teammate.

Charles cleared his throat, tried to stop himself from laughing. "Mon amour, ma chérie!" He cried, surprising you with his acting skills. "Please! I can't lose you! You're my everything!"

You stopped yourself from releasing a loving sigh. He really was the sweetest man around. "Charles, I'm sorry." Now you were the one holding back giggle. "But we're done."

You ended the call and sucked in a shuddering breath. Charles was a better actor than you, though, and you made a point to rush past your brother. If you stopped, if you let Carlos confront you about it, there was no way you would be able to stop yourself from grinning.

The breakup wasn't real, if that wasn't clear.

You and Charles continued to sneak around behind Carlos's back. It was fun, thrilling, but the two of you weren't very good at it. It wasn't long before you were found out.

This time, Carlos didn't make you fake breakup over the phone.

His hand was on your shoulder as he marched you to Charles's drivers room. He knocked, looking furious as Charles pulled the door open.

"Hi, Charlie," you said and he smiled down at you, his gaze so loving. "Apparently, we need to talk."

Charles stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he welcomes you and Carlos into his drivers room. Carlos sat down and sat you down beside him. He looked at you, looked at Charles, and looked back at you. "Go on," he pushed and tapped your foot with his own.

You sucked in a breath, clearly unamused. Sending Carlos a glare, you turned your attention to Charles. "Carlos says we need to break up," you said and sat back in your seat.

Charles released a chuckle. "Does he?" He asked. "Okay."

"Okay?" You parroted.

He gave a nod. "Okay."

Carlos looked between the two of you. "Is that it?" He asked. "Are you going to leave each other alone now?"

Nodding, you stood up. "C'mon, Carlos. Let's get out of here," you said, slipping your phone onto the seat.

Carlos led the way out of Charles's drivers room. "Trust me," he said, placing his arm over your shoulder. "This is for the best." Carlos kissed the top of your head as he led you away.

"I know," you said and searched through your bag. A well thought out act. "Shit," you said suddenly and Carlos stopped moving. "I forgot my phone."

He gave a nod. "Go and get it. I'll meet you for lunch in a moment."

You tried not to skip back to Charles's drivers room. But your brother really was stupid, wasn't he? He so willingly let you go back to Charles, to the man you had supposedly just broken up with.

The breakup wasn't real, if that wasn't clear.

You knocked on the door and Charles pulled it open. He grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. "I didn't think you were coming back," he whispered and pushed you back against the door.

You shrugged your shoulders and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Had to shake him off," you said and pulled him towards you.

His forehead was against your own. "Maybe we should stop messing with him," Charles suggested, but you shook your head. His smile grew. "You're right," he agreed. "This is fun."

And then he kissed you.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done. 

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’. 

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face. 

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout. 

“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh. 

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind. 

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further. 

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time. 

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her. 

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no. 

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused. 

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday. 

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner. 

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.” 

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true. 

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan. 

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy. 

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair. 

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly. 

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you. 

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response. 

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…” 

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands. 

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers. 

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand. 

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist. 

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?” 

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it. 

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face. 

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin. 

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt. 

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence? 

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms? 

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him. 

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm. 

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder. 

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on. 

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you. 

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast. 

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?” 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises. 

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment. 

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter. 

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt. 

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate. 

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him. 

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along. 

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

[quodo-brainrot]

I did an interesting thought exercise with this. Several people in the notes have already pointed out that Odo would have been super OP if he could flawlessly shapeshift into other people like the other Changelings can. (And in the course of the series, we see exactly why it's so OP.)

But! There is one interesting and hilariously simple weakness they could have introduced if they decided that Odo was that good.

Quark is on to something when he starts licking objects to try to figure out if one of them is Odo. You know why? Because Odo doesn't have a sense of smell or taste. I doubt he could replicate something that he can't even sense, so an Odo shot glass would almost certainly taste weird compared to a normal one.

The fact that Quark uses this strategy repeatedly suggests that it has worked at some point, even if we never see it on camera.

I believe that lacking a sense of smell would be surprisingly devastating to any attempts to masquerade as someone else.

Science and speculation under the cut.

As kids, most of us were taught that animals (especially canines) can smell a kajillion billion times better than humans can, but that's a pretty broad statement that has a bit of an 'apples vs. oranges' bent to it.

Humans are actually quite good at smelling the things that are important for us to smell... like each other.

I'm sure you've heard of how blind people are sometimes known to develop a much more keen sense of smell to compensate. Some become capable of identifying people based on scent alone.

Well, it turns out that we don't actually need to go blind to be really good at smelling each other, it's just that a lot of our scent processing is done subconsciously.

With all that in mind, I'm now envisioning a hilarious episode where Odo tries to mimic Rom and Quark just fucking instantly shuts him down because not only has Odo failed to mimic Rom's specific scent, but Quark can also hear that his heartbeat and breathing patterns aren't anywhere near accurate.

Figuring that maybe Ferengi are just an edge case due to their natural hypervigilance, Odo tries to mimic a human and finds that even the humans are suddenly suspicious of him - even if most of them can't put their finger on why.

To the humans, it's very much a classic example of being in the presence of an 'Alternate' - there's something uncanny about this person, but the explanation for why is juuust out of conscious reach.

I think it would be especially funny if humans and maybe Bajorans are the only races who can't really articulate why they feel suspicious. Almost every other race just immediately nails it with 'he doesn't smell right.' I feel like Cardassians would be especially good at it.

Even with this weakness, the storylines with the other Changelings mimicking people wouldn't necessarily need to be altered or removed. You could just write that they isolated themselves enough to avoid too much suspicion, or they simply used their authority to quickly shut down anyone who doubted them.

But poor Odo is absolutely no match for DS9's found family - they all know each other too well, to such a degree that the Station-Wide Polycule is a widely accepted headcanon. They're all so accustomed to the thick fog of pheromones hanging over Ops that they're going to immediately be suspicious when Bashir shows up smelling mostly of nothing (but also faintly of Quark for some weird reason).

Absolutely transcendent move from Star Trek to write a shapeshifter character who's kind of bad at it. You're like, "oh so he can impersonate other characters?" and they're like no he's not very good at faces :(

[read-marx-and-lenin]

Are you a Tankie?? Do you think the USSR was a good nation? Do you maybe even defend Stalin somewhat, not just Lenin? Do you support Mao or ''commuist" nations in the modern age like China or North Korea? I think Commuism is a good ideology, but anytime it's been attempted alongside a government, it's been used as an excuse to control and oppress people. I think it can only work feasibly under anarchy because a government will never release control of its citizens.

I used to be an anarchist myself. I'm not going to say there's some magic phrase that will convince you to become a "tankie" like me, but I will say that if you haven't read some of the core works by Marx, Engels, or Lenin, you should give them a try sometime. "State and Revolution" especially. There is no magic "abolish the state" button that can be pressed to do away with all authority in one stroke. The material conditions must be changed first before the state can disappear.

I would also recommend checking out Pat Sloan's "Soviet Democracy", and pretty much anything by Anna Louise Strong but especially The Soviets Expected It, The Stalin Era, and In North Korea. On the subject of North Korea, you should also watch the democracy "Loyal Citizens of Pyongyang in Seoul".

There is a lot of propaganda surrounding actually existing socialism in the West, and it is important to separate truth from fiction. People do not fight in revolutions only to turn around and accept new oppressors. Every currently existing socialist state is democratic, and that includes the DPRK. Democratic does not mean ideal, but it does mean that people have a say in who is running the government. Even more than that, in every existing socialist state the people have the right to recall elected officials at any time, something which is not guaranteed in most bourgeois democracies, including the US.

Can you imagine members of the ruling party meeting with the people directly on a regular basis to discuss and debate the issues that matter most to the people in the US or any other bourgeois democracy? Can you imagine government officials whose top priority is the material welfare of the most disadvantaged citizens? You look at government meetings in China, in Cuba, in Vietnam, in Laos, and in North Korea, and that is what you see time and time again. That is the crux of politics in these countries, the material conditions of the people and how to improve them. They are dictatorships of the proletariat and thus the proletariat are the class for which the state exists to benefit.

Finally, you should read the 1986 paper "Capitalism, socialism, and the physical quality of life" by Cereseto & Waitzkin. While it is nearly 40 years old, it used World Bank data (clearly not a source biased in favor of communism) to demonstrate how on average socialist economies outperformed capitalist ones at similar levels of economic development in terms of actual material conditions for the average citizen. Being 40 years old, it also has the advantage of comparing data at a time when the number of socialist nations was at its highest. If you want to see more recent examinations that take a similar approach, you should read any papers by the economist Jason Hickel, but especially his 2016 paper "The true extent of global poverty and hunger", where he demonstrates that capitalism has by and large failed to improve material conditions outside the imperial core, and that the only nations that buck the trend in the developing world are the ones who have rejected neoliberal economic policy, most notably China, whose socialist economy has been responsible for the vast majority of people lifted out of poverty in the last decades.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I’m thinking about the right words to say about the US election, and I just can’t find them. 

I would love to give you some words of hope and comfort and encouragement. I would love to give a passionate speech that shines some light on this dark day - but I can’t. 

I’m not feeling optimistic today. I feel absolutely punched in the gut. They elected the rapist. They could’ve elected the first woman president, and instead the rapist won. The guilty-of-34-felonies, misogynistic, racist, queerphobic rapist won. I’m not even from the US and I feel terrified. 

I’m thinking about the people over there. The queer people, the women, the people of color, the immigrants, the disabled people, all the people who were targets of the hate that fueled his election campaign.

I’m thinking about the people who lost loved ones to preventable causes because of him, and about the ones who still will, and I feel my stomach turning. 

I’m thinking about the victims of sexual violence and I think about all that therapy talk of healing your inner child and I wonder how the fuck we are supposed to do that when we see abusers become the most powerful men in the world. 

I’m thinking about my long distance best friend, a lesbian enby of color, not from the US but from a country that’ll definitely suffer from the effects of this election, and how they fear for their life and how I don’t know how to comfort them because I fear for their life too. 

I’m thinking about growing up in Germany and learning about our horrible history, and how as a kid it was absolutely unthinkable that someone like Hitler would ever be voted for again, and if we could travel back in time, all of us would’ve stopped him. Wouldn’t we? 

I’m thinking about my uncle who congratulated me to my coming out and then, at the very same family gathering, proudly told us he is voting for a Nazi party because “Hitler was right about some things” and how I went home and cried my eyes out. I’m thinking about all the people in the US who feel the same pain with their family members right now. 

I’m thinking about you. And maybe right now that’s all I can do. 

I love you. Stay safe. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[nanenna]

Detective Work on the Other Side

We getting into my own HCs now, enjoy the lore!

Sleep King Master post (it should actually work this time)

---

It felt weird sitting in the Specter Speeder as Phantom with his parents. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d finally told his parents himself, but just like Jazz had said they’d loved and accepted him as is. Danny was still getting used to it.

Danny pointed out the windshield, “That island there should be good.” It was little more than an oversized boulder with some grass on it, but it was big enough for the speeder and was pretty close to Johnny and Kitty’s lair, so it would do. Once they landed, the three Fentons disembarked so Danny could let the lovers out of Soup Time.

“Ugh, finally!” Johnny griped once they were set free.

Danny crossed his arms, “How do you keep getting into Amity? We put extra protections on the portal, no one should be able to get through.”

“Your dinky portal isn’t the only one in the whole world,” Kitty said with an eye roll.

“You just gotta know where to look,” Johnny added with a wink.

“Well stop it! I don’t want to have to repeat a grade!”

“Then stop chasing us. Jeez, no one’s forcing you.”

“Danny, sweetie,” Mom interrupted, “ask them about the summoning.”

“Summoning?” Kitty asked, perking up.

“It’s really concerning,” Dad said while scratching his head.

“Yeah, I was asleep so I don’t really remember it but I got summoned last night.”

“How’d you sleep through a summoning?” Kitty asked incredulously with a sneer.

Johnny just nodded, “Damn, wish I could sleep through a summoning.”

“I don’t know!” Danny threw his hands up in the air. “The really weird part is they were trying to summon Pariah!”

That got Johnny and Kitty to stop laughing. “Oh shit, really?”

“Johnny! Don’t cuss around the baby!” Kitty smacked his arm lightly.

“You owe the swear jar,” Dad boomed eagerly.

Johnny just rolled his eyes.

“That’s what we were told,” Mom cut in. “There was a cult that was trying to summon the Ghost King and somehow got Danny.”

“Wait, were they trying to summon Pariah by name or the Ghost King title?” Kitty asked eagerly.

“Ghost King,” Mom said decisively.

“Oh no,” Danny said. His grades may be in the toilet, but even he could put two and two together. “No, there’s no way I’m the Ghost King!”

“Maybe,” Kitty said while looking Danny up and down.

“Not like it means anything,” Johnny said airily.

Danny thought the matter over, “How does it not mean anything?”

“Well Pariah just declared himself the Ghost King one day, others only listened because he forced them to. And it’s not like we need a king, we’ve had the council ever since.”

“Ugh, stupid eye balls,” Danny griped. “But yeah, if he just decided to make himself king I guess it doesn’t really mean anything.”

Mom sighed deeply, “You mean like Alexander the Great? Or Ghengis Khan? Or William the Conquerer? Or anyone else from history who declared himself in charge and then killed anyone who didn’t listen?”

Danny drooped, “Okay, so maybe it does matter. But how would that even work? Why am I the Ghost King now?”

“Dunno,” Johnny said with a shrug. “It’s not like you even have the crown or ring.”

“No, Pariah still has the ring and last I saw the crown Vlad had it.”

“Good old Vladdie,” Dad boomed eagerly, “holding onto a powerful artifact like that to keep it safe!”

“So shouldn’t Vlad be the new Ghost King?” Danny asked with a shudder.

“Well the summoning circle thinks you earned the title somehow, so I guess it’s you now.” Johnny snickered as he got on his bike, Kitty quickly hopping on behind him. “Anyway, see ya ‘round, your majesty.” Johnny sneered the last part, then the pair both laughed like Johnny had just told the best joke ever as he zoomed off.

“Well I’m proud of you!” Dad slapped Danny’s back so hard he face planted. “Fighting that nasty Ghost King was really brave of you, and look at you now! Our boy, the Ghost King!” Dad wiped away a tear of deep paternal pride.

Danny had already floated himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, completely unharmed. “Thanks Dad, that means a lot.” And it really did! He was used to his parents being proud of him, not for his grades obviously, but just… in general. Or something. To have his dad say he’s proud of things Danny did as Phantom just… hit different.

“Is there anyone we can ask about this? The council that ruffian mentioned?” Mom looked thoughtful.

“Ugh no, the council hates my guts for some reason.”

“Well… if they’ve been in charge since Pariah was put in the sarcophagus and you’re the king now, maybe they feel threatened?” Dad asked, rubbing his chin.

“That’s probably it, sweetiepie. They’re just threatened by you.” Mom gently pat his arm.

“That’s so weird! I don’t even want to be king, I’d probably be a terrible one anyway.”

Dad gasped, “Danno! That’s just not true! Sure, you’re a bit young to be king now, but in a few years I bet you’d be a great king!”

“Pass.” Danny did not want to add a crown to his disaster of a life. Especially if it meant he’d have to be a bully to make others listen to him anyway, it’s not like anyone listened to Pariah.

“So honey, anyone else we can ask about the Ghost King? Or summoning circles? I’m really worried about you randomly getting summoned by creepy cults.” And boy, did Mom have a point about that! Yikes!

“Uh… maybe Frostbite?” The yeti did keep calling him “Great One” and that had to mean something, right? And if not he could hopefully point them in the right direction.

“Wonderful!” Mom chirped as she started herding Danny back into the Speeder. “And along the way you can answer a few small questions about your fight with Pariah.”

“I’m sorry about taking the Ecto-skeleton without asking,” Danny blurted out, face turning green as it grew colder.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” Mom pinched his cheek, “we understand why you did it and why you felt you had to at the time. But never do it again, okay?”

“Yeah,” Danny said miserably as they got back into the speeder. Once Danny had pointed them in the direction of the Far Frozen, he sat criss cross applesauce in the air. “So uh… questions?”

“Oh yeah! What questions did you have, fudgecakes?”

“Well…” Mom started but hesitated before continuing slowly. “This sounds like it might be a right of conquest situation.”

Danny had no idea what that meant. Well he knew what the words individually meant, and he had a pretty good idea what the phrase meant generally, but he had no idea what the rules or details were.

“Was this an official challenge?” Mom asked when Danny only stared blankly at her.

“Uh… maybe?” Danny tried thinking back to the fight, “What would make it an official challenge?”

“Did the Ghost King say he accepted your challenge? Or challenge you?”

“He uh…” Danny tried to remember the times he’d bantered with Pariah. “He said he accepted my terms,” Danny said with a squeak near the end.

Mom just nodded, “Right, so it sounds like a challenge. And did you take his crown at any point in the fight?”

Danny tried to remember the end of the fight, and well… “Yeah, I knocked it off him right before shoving him back into the sarcophagus. But Vlad had the key that actually locked it, and then he had the crown the last time I saw it.”

“Danny, sweetie, Vlad didn’t challenge the Ghost King to single combat, and he didn’t take the crown as part of that challenge.”

“Oh,” was all Danny could say as the realization of what he’d unwittingly done sank in. “Well… shit.”

[simp4konig]

nggghmhh... been thinking about Nikto getting into a fight and Reader fussing over him and cleaning up the blood on his knuckles and bandaging his hand as he watches them with hearts in his eyes... 🥺💞

It wasn't that nasty of an injury, really. Really.

You were simply fussing over him too much, as per usual.

His knuckles were split after punching someone in the face perhaps a tad too hard. Just a little. Just hard enough to knock out a few molars, maybe... or a row.

"This will sting," you murmur — though, mostly to yourself, as Nikto isn't particularly talkative, and usually only replies in grunts.

Eventhough Nikto could have gone to medical to have his injuries treated by a more qualified individual, he went straight to you instead: maybe you applied too much pressure on accident when disinfecting the wound with antiseptic and his skin would sting; maybe the bandages were never tight enough and always on the loose side; and maybe your handiwork wasn't as precise or skillful, but Nikto found that simply being around you was enough to heal him.

Yes, it does sting. A lot.

Or it should. Nikto has become desensitised to pain, and it doesn't register like it used to. What should be excruciating agony feels like a dull throb in the background, or the aftershocks felt from a body that didn't belong to him, yet does. Not to mention that he dissociates a lot, so he can make active pain... passive.

So yes, it does sting. It just doesn't hurt.

Nikto lets you do as you please, watching with silent attention the entire time. He keeps his hand limp, letting you hold it however you want...

...Just as long as you're holding it.

The size difference is stark, his large fingers easily encircling your wrist almost in its entirety. He’s big and built, scars and old wounds littered across his pale skin, pink and raw in the places that he was burned. You? You are small and... soft.

Your biceps aren't as big as his. Your muscles aren't as defined as his. Your build isn't as solid, strong, and stout as his is.

Instead, you are… delicate. Like a porcelain doll. And as pretty as one, too. Especially when your eyes are as glassy as they are now, and catch the light at such an angle that it makes them sparkle like rare gems to be treasured and cherished. Nikto's treasure.

Delicate to him, at least; because, no matter how much you insist that you are not petite, not tiny, and not fragile, it further solidifies in his mind how he ought to protect you. Which was annoying as fuck, since you weren't a child that had to be coddled and protected, but it was what it was. It was almost... adorable?

"Is it alright?" You ask, antsy with anticipation, absentmindedly chewing on the inside of your cheek without realising. "Maybe... try flexing your hand?"

He does, surveying your handiwork, twisting his hand this way and that, clenching his fingers into as tight of a fist as he can make it.

"Or... is it, erm... too tight? I-I can wrap it again, if it's uncomfortable—”

“—No.”

Truth of the matter was, it could have been better — any nurse would have been appalled, and hastily bandaged Nikto's hand again for themselves.

But, since it was you that treated him, it was the best treatment which he could have ever asked for.

And it was not "alright", but immaculate, thank you.

With a sigh, you release his hand, and miss how Nikto instantly tenses, missing the intimacy, as subtle and fleeting as it was.

“You get into too many fights," you say, eyebrows furrowed slightly over your eyes in unconcealed disapproval.

A shrug. “Too many people provoke me," Nikto puts bluntly.

“Provoke you how, exactly? By breathing? Existing?"

For a long moment, Nikto was quiet. You were on edge — your sarcasm did not bode well with Nikto sometimes, and it probably came across as malicious and accusatory...

Fuck. Fuuuck...

However, through gritted teeth, Nikto utters: “They… were saying bad things about you.”

Instantly your demeanour changes, and although you attempt to disguise it with a stern expression and cold tone, your features soften considerably, and the furrowed brows and the wrinkles in your forehead smoothen, like ice melting.

“Nikto…”

Nikto, defending your honour? He, punching not just recruits, but other operators, and threatening the commanders with death lest they mess with you? Hurt you? Merely talk badly about you?

Oh fuck... your heart aches, and stubbornly clenches with affection eventhough you ought to scold him, to tell him to stop, to behave rationally... despite not particularly wanting to.

Since the idea of being defended by Nikto is... nice.

Still.

“Nikto... please don't fight people on my behalf.”

Immediately, he becomes defensive, and gruffly grunts a harsh: “Why not?”

You bite your lip. “Because… I don't want you to get hurt. Okay?"

“I don't care if I get hurt. All I care about is you. You're all that matters."

“And I care about you. I care if you get hurt. Because it matters to me. So… don't, okay?"

"...Hmph."

"...Please," you whisper, pleading nonverbally with your eyes. "...For me?"

For you? He would do anything...

...not get hurt, that is.

Next time a person insulted you or made a snarky remark about you in any way, he would hurl a chair at them. Or plot the most inconspicuous murder.

Just as long as he wouldn't get hurt, yes?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@blackinkniko @arrozyfrijoles23 @wil-xyz @revnatheshadow @feelya @liminal-chickenskin @zoloftwithdrawalnausea @soupiiiie @lizzy019

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/Ns

One Nikto wip done... 12+ more to go!!!!!, 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

.....i will only pass away peacefully if i finish these .....

..... then and ONLY then im going to bash my head against a wall so i am in a coma 😇 (JOKE)

Going to miss my anons:(((... Im verysad to have closed my inbox but it was necessary for me 😟...

Anyways, my closed inbox gives me motivation to write as fast as possible so I can interact with them (you!!! <333) again ☺️💞💞💞

[dorabellingham]

Be like them

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you want to straighten your hair to go to an event with him, but your boyfriend doesn't really like the idea

request: yes (sorry I had to change a little because i couldn't write it)

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You looked in the mirror, holding a lock of your hair, still damp from your shower, as you scrolled through Instagram. Jude had mentioned that Real Madrid was hosting a special event to launch their new kit, a premier that would bring together players, coaching staff and some of the WAG's. He invited you to go with him, and the simple invitation was enough to make you think about how to get ready.

From what you saw in the photos, all the women were incredibly sophisticated, with straight, perfect hair, impeccable in every detail. Suddenly, your own curly locks seemed a little... out of place. You never had a problem accepting yourself, but when you imagined yourself next to your boyfriend at that event, doubts arose. Maybe it would be better to straighten your hair just this once, to have a look more in line with the other women's style.

Later, Jude came into the room, already changed for a dinner they were planning before the event. Seeing you standing there, with a lost look, he slowly approached you and hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—What are you thinking?

He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You gave a weak smile and hesitated before answering:

—I was thinking about straightening my hair for the premiere. I think that way I would look more... —You paused, not knowing how to finish. —More like the other women.

Bellingham frowned and looked at you in the mirror, clearly surprised.

—And who said you have to be like them?

He asked, with a touch of disbelief in his voice.

You sighed, trying to put into words what you felt.

—I know it's silly, but... have you seen what they look like? Each one more stunning than the other, and they all have such a... polished style. I think I would look better with straight hair, more "sophisticated".

You said the last word with a tone of uncertainty, as if you didn't even believe it.

Bellingham let out a soft, affectionate laugh, squeezing you a little tighter in his arms.

—Honey, you’re beautiful just the way you are. And besides that. —He smiled, looking into your eyes in the mirror. —I love your curls. We’re the curly couple, you know? I don’t know what I would do without those curls by your side.

You laughed, but you still seemed a little hesitant.

—Jude… you know I’m proud of my hair, but… it’s just that at this kind of event, maybe I should be a little more… “elegant”? I don’t know if that makes sense. I guess I just don’t want people to think I don’t make an effort to be by your side.

He turned around, holding your face gently and speaking with a softness that you loved.

—It makes perfect sense. But who cares what people think? I wouldn’t trade those curls for anything. They’re part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. —He stroked a lock of your hair, twirling it around one of his fingers. —By the way, I want to be the guy who arrives with the most beautiful and authentic girl of all, the one who doesn't need to change a thing to be amazing. And, in my humble opinion, you already are. Totally.

You couldn't help but smile. Jude always had a way of making you feel valued, even when you tried to find fault with yourself. Still, doubts insisted on appearing, and he noticed the glint of uncertainty in your eyes.

—I know it's easy to say, but I'll show you that I'm not joking.

He said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and opening the gallery. He showed you several old photos of the two of them together, taken throughout their relationship, almost all during simple, quiet moments of everyday life. In all of them, your curls appeared naturally, and Jude always seemed enchanted by you, with a sparkle in his eyes that spoke for itself.

—See? — He smiled. —It's not your straight hair that will make me find you more beautiful. It's you. It's the way you smile, the way you look when you're comfortable and happy. And that's it. —He ruffled her curls slightly with a playful smile. —That's what I love.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of expectations dissipate a little.

—I guess I'll trust you, then. And let the curls be successful, right?

You said, half joking.

—That's my girl! —Jude replied, kissing you on the forehead with a proud smile. —Besides, the curls make you even more unique, and I love knowing that I have someone so incredible by my side. Let the other WAG's stay straight; I want to be with the most special one.

On the night of the premiere, as you were getting ready to go out, he could barely take his eyes off his girlfriend. You had put on a blue dress that highlighted your skin, and your curls were loose, forming a perfect frame around your face. He smiled when he saw you, feeling incredibly proud to have you by his side. As you approached the event, photographers and fans surrounded you, and you noticed the looks and whispers around you. For a moment, insecurity tried to return, but when you looked at Bellingham, you saw only a glow of admiration and love on his face.

—See? You don’t have to change a thing.

He whispered, holding your hand firmly as you walked together.

The curly-haired couple, as he joked, shone that night, drawing attention and leaving a unique mark. And you realized, amidst the flashes and Jude's affection, that their authenticity was their true strength, something that no one could take away.