#in the dream it was a 3 hour drive away and i was holding my decaying dog in my arms

[ddaengju]

.

[https-lvesick]

⎯⎯⎯ ﹙ 엔시티 드림﹚ their kinks .ᐟ ㇹ.

𝒑. bf!dream × 𝒇.reader ｜ 𝒈. smut ｜ 𝒄. just smut... the title is actually pretty self explanatory :3 ﹕ bookshelf

⸝⸝ notes. idk since when i have this ready, sitting prettily in my drafts... but here it is, finally! hope you guys like it 🤭🤭

﹙ぉ﹚mark.

PORN⎯ it became your guilty pleasure together after that one unforgettable moment. the day you walked in on him — flushed, panting, and achingly hard — his embarrassment was palpable. when he stammered out that he was watching to learn new ways to please you, your heart raced. from that night, it became your shared ritual. now, his hands roam your body as you both watch, whispering filthy promises of what he’ll do to you next.

PRAISE⎯ he lives for your praise, craving every soft-spoken word of admiration. whether it’s a simple “you did so well” or a breathless “you feel so good,” it makes his heart race. his pout is irresistible when your praise doesn’t come quickly enough — he’ll whine, tugging at your attention until you relent. and when it’s his turn, he overwhelms you with devotion: beautiful, perfect, mine. he wants every inch of you to know how loved you are.

THIGH RIDING⎯ he notices how your eyes linger on his thighs — how you bite your lip when he wears those tiny, dangerous shorts with nothing underneath. it’s a game now. he spreads his legs wide, lounging like temptation incarnate until you lose control. once you’ve climbed onto his lap, grinding against him, he’s hooked — loving every desperate gasp as you chase your high, his hands gripping your hips while he watches his pretty girl come undone on his thighs.

RECORDING⎯ it started with voice memos and teasing photos while he was away. you couldn’t resist sending a clip of yourself trembling with pleasure, calling out his name. when he came home, you barely had time to speak before his hands were all over you. “can i record you?” he whispered hoarsely, his phone already out. you agreed, imagining how many times he’d lose himself watching later. now, it’s a shared addiction — capturing every moan, every arch, every filthy moment of you being his.

SPIT KINK⎯ his eyes darken when he tells you, “open up, baby.” but it’s not just the act — it’s what it reveals. when his spit lingers on your lips, untouched, he knows you’re wrecked and raw for him. when you swallow too quickly, he takes it as a challenge. “not done yet,” he growls, determined to break you until there’s no trace of control left — only need, desire, and surrender.

﹙ぉ﹚renjun.

FACE SITTING⎯ he lives for the weight of you, the warmth and wetness of your pussy smothering his face. nothing compares to the feeling of your thighs trembling against his cheeks, your scent filling his lungs as he devours you. and when you hover, hesitant, he growls in frustration. “sit,” he demands, pulling you down with strong hands. “don’t hold back. ride me like you mean it.” the pleasure of being used by you leaves him drunk with desire.

BREAST PLAY⎯ your breasts are his sanctuary — soft, perfect, utterly addictive. he could spend hours touching, squeezing, and tasting. but when you tease him — dragging your breasts over the sensitive tip of his cock — it drives him to madness. his resolve crumbles as he cums hard and fast, groaning your name while his release paints your skin. the sight of you covered in him? pure heaven.

THIGH JOB⎯ when the need overtakes him, he doesn’t wait. you could be cooking or working — it doesn’t matter. he slips between your thighs, cock slick with precum as he thrusts desperately. “don’t move,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded, gripping your hips. the squeeze of your thighs, the soft praise you whisper into his ear, your fingers running through his hair — it all pushes him to the edge. he cums hard, trembling as your words echo in his mind: “my good boy.”

CUM PLAY⎯ despite his usual preference for clean, controlled passion, the sight of his cum mixed with your sweat-covered skin awakens something primal. he smears it across your chest, your stomach — his breath hitching as he admires his handiwork. sometimes, he captures the moment with a discreet photo, though he’ll never admit how much he treasures them. tasting you both, however? that’s no secret.

MUTUAL MASTURBATION⎯ it’s a shared race to the finish line. his fingers pump inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand wrapped around him. the room fills with ragged moans, the heat between you spiraling out of control. the thrill of cumming together — trembling, overstimulated, desperate — is intoxicating. he’ll keep going until you’re both wrecked, craving every last second of shared ecstasy.

﹙ぉ﹚jeno.

SIZE KINK⎯ the contrast between his sheer strength and your smaller frame drives him wild. nothing makes his cock harder than the sight of you fitting so perfectly in his arms, so easy to toss around. he loves keeping you perched on his lap — whether you’re simply relaxing or grinding against him for relief. but his favorite is standing sex. lifting you effortlessly, holding you up as he pounds into you, flexing just to feel the way your body melts, dripping with want.

BELLY BULGE KINK⎯ every inch of him stretches you to your limit. no matter how often you’ve taken him, you always need time to adjust. his large hands tease and prepare you with agonizing patience — long fingers stroking your insides, his tongue working you open until you’re shaking. and then, finally, he slides inside, filling you so deeply that the bulge in your tummy becomes his undoing. the sight of it makes his eyes darken and his hips snap harder, spilling deep inside with each thrust.

MORNING SEX⎯ he lives for waking up to you. the heat of your body wrapped around him, the way your lips close around his cock — it’s his idea of heaven. sleepy hands grip your hips as you ride him, your warmth pulling him into a blissful haze. mornings without your touch feel incomplete; he claims it’s the only way to guarantee a good day, and his slow, lazy thrusts show just how sweet he plans to make yours.

BREEDING KINK⎯ he daydreams of you pregnant far more than he’d admit. his eyes linger on your stomach during sex — not just because of the bulge from his cock but from imagining it round and full with his baby. every thrust is deliberate, a silent promise of filling you with more. and when you moan daddy, it’s over. his hips lose rhythm, his control snaps, and he’s fucking you with abandon, all purpose and no restraint.

OVERSTIMULATION⎯ he can’t stop. you’re so soft, so wet, so intoxicating that he keeps pushing, even after you’ve come. his fingers curl inside you, coaxing more pleasure from your trembling body. your cries make him harder, his breath ragged as he feels your walls flutter around him. when you coat his hand in your release, he’s a mess — groaning, needy, tasting you like a man possessed, determined to have every drop again and again.

﹙ぉ﹚haechan.

MARKING⎯ he wears your marks with pride, turning every mirror into a shrine of your love. hickeys, scratches, and bite marks — they all make his heart race. he traces each with a grin, and when they start to fade, he’s immediately begging for more. “claim me,” he whispers, desperate for your touch. nothing makes him happier than knowing he’s yours — his body, your canvas.

DEGRADING⎯ “you’re pathetic,” you sneer, and he shivers. he’s a slut — your slut — and he needs to be reminded. he loves the sting of your words, the humiliation of your hands slapping his face or his cock. when he’s whining for mercy, tears pricking his eyes, he’s in bliss. he doesn’t want you to be gentle. he wants you to use him, ruin him, leave him begging for more.

DIRTY TALK⎯ his tongue is wicked — sharp, teasing, utterly filthy. he knows how to make you melt with just a few words. before it starts, he whispers sweet nothings, luring you in. then comes the switch: vivid, lewd promises of what he’ll do — bouncing you on his cock until you’re babbling nonsense, stuffing your pretty mouth full while your cunt clenches around him. his hand snakes up your thigh, fingers pressing, pinching, pulling until your head falls back, his words turning into pure sin.

CUM PLAY⎯ he’s obsessed with the mess — your slick on his skin, his seed marking you from head to toe. when jealousy burns, it’s worse. he covers every inch of your body, smearing it into your skin, reminding himself — and you — who you belong to. he doesn’t need proof, but he craves it. “look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with possession, as his cum drips down your thighs.

FACE SITTING⎯ he’s addicted to your pussy. it doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter when — he needs you on his face. hovering is not an option. “don’t hold back,” he growls. “fucking sit.” he dives in like a man starved, tongue relentless, hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you down harder. your arousal coats his face, and he loves it. the wetter, the better. suffocate him. ruin him. just don’t dare deny him.

﹙ぉ﹚jaemin.

DOLLIFICATION⎯ he loves turning you into his perfect little doll. hands gentle but deliberate as he styles your hair, fastens delicate accessories, and selects the softest, most seductive lingerie. he even adds a touch of blush to your cheeks, taking his time to admire his work — a masterpiece of prettiness before the chaos. but by the end? you’re a beautiful mess. smeared lipstick stains his chest, mascara streaks your cheeks, and your innocence is completely ruined. that’s his favorite part: breaking his delicate doll after crafting her to perfection.

BREEDING KINK⎯ jaemin’s love for the idea of being a father isn’t just a fantasy — it’s an obsession. the moment you tossed the condoms and stopped the pills, it unlocked a new level of hunger in him. every thrust is purposeful, every orgasm focused on filling you with his seed. he watches with dark, hungry eyes as his cum drips from your swollen cunt, mesmerized as he pushes it back inside, determined to keep you full. “how will you get pregnant if it keeps slipping out, baby?” he groans, already fucking you again.

DUMBIFICATION⎯ the way you go blank for him — eyes glassy, mouth parted, words reduced to babbled nonsense — makes him smirk with pride. his cock turns you into a perfect, pliant mess, your mind too far gone to form thoughts. he murmurs depraved things, cooing softly as drool trickles from the corner of your mouth. “my sweet, dumb girl,” he praises, kissing you as you fall apart, fully lost in him.

MANHANDLING⎯ you’re too delicate to handle yourself — at least, that’s how jaemin sees it. shifting positions? not your job. that’s what he’s here for. he lifts, twists, and bends you exactly how he wants, effortlessly maneuvering your pliant body. you love it, and so does he. you’re his to move, to control, to mold — and he takes full advantage, whispering how weak and perfect you are as he fills you to the brim.

RECORDING⎯ a camera roll full of you, his greatest treasure. every arch of your back, every moan, every needy cry — he’s captured them all. each orgasm is immortalized, every sex tape carefully curated for his private viewing. he replays them when he’s away, hand gripping his cock, desperate to relive every moment. “smile for me, baby,” he grins, phone in hand, knowing exactly how pretty you look when you’re cumming just for him.

CORRUPTION KINK⎯ he’s the reason you know how to touch, how to kiss, how to suck — and he loves it. teaching you was the greatest thrill of his life, and the thought of corrupting you over and over again still makes his blood rush. “you don’t know how, do you?” he teases, eyes dark. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll teach you.”

﹙ぉ﹚chenle.

DADDY KINK⎯ the soft, breathy way you call him daddy wrecks him completely. the sweet innocence in your voice, the way you cling to him like he’s your last salvation — it feeds his ego and his darkest desires. he knows he’s the one ruining you, yet you say it like he’s your savior. and deep down, the idea of really being a father someday only makes it hotter.

BREEDING KINK⎯ chenle is determined to make you his — completely, irrevocably his. every time he fills you up, he dreams of the day you’ll carry his baby. he’s long since discarded the condoms, and you’ve caught him more than once browsing baby products online. when he’s fucking you, his mind is already decorating the nursery. “we’ll need another,” he murmurs, thrusting deeper. “one won’t be enough if they don’t look like you.”

DIRTY TALK⎯ the sound of your honeyed whispers — the filth you pour into his ear while your hands roam his body — it makes him dizzy. your need, your shameless craving for him, leaves him breathless. you cling to him, desperate and feral, telling him exactly what you want. his voice grows rough, words tumbling from his lips as he promises to ruin you, to give you everything.

DEGRADING⎯ you’re his princess — his perfect, precious girl. but sometimes, you push too far, teasing him until his control snaps. in those moments, you’re no longer his sweet love — you’re his slut. his to punish, to take, to wreck. “you’re mine,” he growls, voice sharp as his hand marks your skin.

EXHIBITIONISM⎯ possessiveness burns hot in his veins. your pretty moans are for his ears alone, your body belongs to his eyes only. but sometimes, proving that you’re his requires an audience. if someone watches, hears, knows exactly who owns you? he makes sure it’s unforgettable — pounding into you, marking you with every thrust, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind.

﹙ぉ﹚jisung.

SIZE KINK⎯ he didn’t know how much it would turn him on until he saw the way his hands dwarf yours. you’re so small, so soft, and he’s so big. your tiny fingers barely wrap around his cock, your body stretches perfectly beneath him, and your mouth struggles to take him. it’s intoxicating — the contrast, the vulnerability, the way you whimper when he fills you to the hilt.

BELLY BULGE KINK⎯ “look at that,” he whispers, pride swelling as he presses his palm against the outline of his cock in your tummy. he pushes gently, relishing the way your body reacts, eyes rolling back as pressure intensifies the stretch. he drags it out, slow thrusts keeping you full as you beg for more, too wrecked to think of anything but how deeply he’s buried inside you.

ICE PLAY⎯ the moment ice touches your heated skin, your shiver sends a thrill straight to his core. you gasp, squirm, and cling to him, vulnerable and exposed, and he lives for it. the contrast between the cold and your warm body drives him wild — a game of sensation that leaves you trembling and begging for his touch.

DRY HUMPING⎯ he’s addicted to how desperate you get, grinding against him like you can’t help yourself. he watches, smirking, as you ride his thigh or rut against his lap, chasing pleasure even through layers of fabric. public places are his favorite — subtle thrusts, barely restrained moans, your panties damp as he whispers how pathetic and needy you are.

SEXTING⎯ the first time made him blush so hard he could barely breathe. now? he’s a master of it. teasing you through the phone, describing every filthy thing he wants to do, sending pictures that make you squirm. it’s become a game, a wicked build-up to the nights when you’re finally together, messy and breathless from all the waiting.

did you like the reading? why not like, reblog or leave a comment? this way i know i'm doing a good work and will keep up with it!

﹙ぉ﹚@jungaji @spacejip @lyvhie @sinisxtea @jirsungs @polarisjisung @chenlezip @ayukas @leleszn @mystverse @prologue-ae @hibernatinghamster @kj-kts @nctrawberries @peterm4rker @ant-onie @lovesuhng @haechanahceah67 @jeonghansshitester @hyusun @ncthoe69 @dawntyun @snowyseungs @bunnysoonie @haechansssun @n0hyuck @yvaniile @nahyuckers

[tojipie]

welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago. 

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk. 

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder. 

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his. 

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper. 

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face. 

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt. 

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway 

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear. 

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really. 

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view. 

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes. 

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity. 

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change. 

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look. 

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside. 

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight. 

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later. 

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away. 

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade. 

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car. 

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles. 

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years. 

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care. 

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?” 

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base. 

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him. 

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather. 

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose 

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were. 

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it. 

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure. 

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?” 

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there. 

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

taglist ! 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82

[81pastrys]

At a Loss

Summary— Lando loses his wife in a freak accident and Lila doesn’t understand where she went

Warnings— SAD ; death ; funeral ; car accident ; drunk driver ; hospital ; life support mentioned ; this is really sad ; Lila not understanding death

A/N— I will be apologizing here but I don’t expect forgiveness for this deranged piece…

Dad Lando List

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

No request, just my own deranged mind

It’s been nearly a year since his wife died suddenly. She was literally driving home from the grocery store, 5 minutes away from her house, when a drunk driver hit the drivers side of her car. Lila was with Lando at the house, a small grocery trip ended in a funeral. When his wife hadn’t come home for hours, he tried calling, texting, but nothing.

It was when a police officer knocked on his door with the information that she was in the hospital and not doing good that it all came hurdling down on him. He called her mum first and told her what he was told and they rushed to the hospital.

Their mums in the waiting room, Lando handed Lila to his mum as to not scare her from all the machines his wife was on. He held her hand as she took her last breath. Crying into her hand as the machines flatlined. He signed all the paperwork and got all her things that were still in tact.

He saw her car at the impound lot and broke down again. Her car mangled, the same car he bought her as an anniversary gift 3 years prior, the one she dreamed of having. Cisca had kept Lila the few days after, allowing Lando time to grieve and settle everything.

Him and Lila went to the funeral, front row, on display. Lila had no clue what was going on. The 2 year old confused on why everyone was crying and wearing the same color. She also wondered why there were so many beautiful flowers around a box.

Lando opted for a close casket funeral, for Lila’s sake. The picture of her mum on the big board didn’t help though. “Mama!” She said and pointed to it. Lando burst into tears again and Lila was confused.

The media went silent on Lando’s behalf while he took the next few races off. The drivers banding together to help him in anyway possible. Other drivers with daughters bringing them for play dates.

When racing resumed, Lando had no choice but to bring Lila along. It was hard at first, but she napped a lot. The other drivers bringing their daughters and wives when they could, allowing Lando to not have to worry.

Now during the break, she was inconsolable and Lando didn’t know why. Lila was screaming and crying, her tears nonstop flowing as Lando tried calming her down. She hiccuped from crying so hard and drenched her shirt with tears.

He took her shirt off and she was left in just a diaper. She didn’t want his touch, swatting him away while he kneeled. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked again, her crying drowning out what she kept yelling at him. She whined at him.

He was at a loss of why she was so upset, not letting him hold her and comfort the cries. “Mama!!” He finally understood her words and it pulled at his heart, now trying not to cry himself.

He hated how cruel the world was, taking his wife away so suddenly. Lila didn’t understand death, thinking her mum just left them. Lando hung his head and stood up. He didn’t know what to say or do anymore. She wants someone she can’t have.

He barely had time to grieve, taking care of Lila was his main priority and he didn’t want her to see him upset. It’s clear to him now that she didn’t have time to grieve either. Lila sat on the cold wooden floor, holding her pacifier as she screamed for her mum.

“I miss her too Lila.” He said to her. She paused crying and breathed in short breaths. He offered to hold her and she mocked his movement, also wanting to be held. He held her close to his chest as her tears were silently still falling. “Mama still loves you, sweetheart, she’s just not here to say it.” He whispered.

He looked up and tried to hold back the inevitable tears. His voice cracking as he cooed to Lila. “Mamas gone?” Lila asked, her little voice breaking Lando’s heart. He let the tears fall.

He had texted his mum in the middle of Lila’s screaming fit and she told him she was on her way. When the front door opened, the sight she saw was gut wrenching. Lando swaying an upset Lila while he himself was upset.

“My babies.” Cisca murmured. She wrapped her arms around them and told Lando how much of a good dad he was. “It’s not your fault baby, there was nothing else we could’ve done.” She cooed. He knew his wife’s death was not his fault, but it weighed on him as if it was.

“Mimi, where’s mama.” Lila sniffled. Cisca looked to Lila and back to Lando. Realizing why they were both upset, Lila wanted her mum and Lando couldn’t help her.

“Oh baby, mamas in a better place.” Cisca smiled, holding back her own tears. “How about we get you down for bed, yeah?” Lila nodded and Cisca took the little girl to bed. Lando sat down at his kitchen counter and cried.

… can I say that I kissed the brick before throwing it? Or cleaned the knife before stabbing? 😭

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia @chertik-007vvv

[gomtangii]

can't keep my hands to myself

minors and ageless dni professor!caleb x grad student TA fem!reader wc: 1.9k cw: caleb's in his late 20s (like 28-29 maybe) while reader is around 23-25, stalker caleb KINDA, not a lot of foreplay just making out mostly, penetration, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything im missing :3

the youngest and hottest professor at skyhaven skyline university and you get to be his teacher assistant (TA). how lucky. you've been blessed ever since you started university—you got to take professor xia's class despite so many other people coveting for a spot and camping course request for days, you get accepted back to your alma mater for grad school a year after undergrad, and professor xia chose you to be his TA. every other person that applied is probably seething with jealousy, but little do you know how calculated this is.

it all started during your senior year of undergrad when you sat not too close to the front, but still close enough to make proper eye contact with him on the first day of class. caleb was nervous, it was his first class that he was teaching as a professor after all. he was hiding it well, but his mind was racing until he saw you. it's not like you calmed it down or anything, but rather you gave him something to be distracted from his nervousness: lust. the moment he saw you stirred an unquenchable thirst in him and he doesn't know why. your rosy cheeks, glossy lips, crossed legs in that pink plaid skirt, and bright eyes that said you were ready to learn. how cute.

and just like that, the semester flies by and all you did was tempt him with your cute little skirts and dresses every time you showed up to class. it was a shame he let you get away... except he really didn't. there's no way caleb would've let you go without keeping tabs on you the entire time through your well-used social media. he'd save his favorite photos for his personal use even though you never posted anything risqué because caleb was truly depraved. he could probably jack off to a photo of you smiling in a simple sundress because that's all it took, that's how much you drive him insane.

but now you're back in the palm of his hands. he couldn't believe his perfect girl wanted to be his TA, it was like a dream come true. when you walked in with that blush on your face, a pleated skirt and tweed jacket, he wanted to bend you over his desk, but he held back, made you wait for a day or two, then emailed you that you got the position.

first day of classes and you were excited to learn that you two would be sharing the same office. although your office hours were different, you'd still be working closely with him and that made you even more giddy. you began to foster a sort of friendship with the professor. you would get each other coffee, eat lunch, talk about stuff pertaining to classes, etc. you felt comfortable with him. even if he did touch your bare knee occasionally, or pass by you with a hand on your waist, or tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, you didn't mind! in fact, you kind of liked it. err... you really liked it. so much so that you would stay for his office hours just to be with him.

one day you tried to stay during his office hours, but he actually turns you away, telling you that he's really busy and has to send something in by the end of the day. you offer to help like the good girl you are and he can't refuse your cute pout, so he lets you. and drags it out until it gets dark so that he can offer you a ride home that he knows you'll take. as you arrive at your apartment, you're holding onto the hem of your dress, looking at him nervously.

"um... do you... want to come in for a bit...?" you ask softly, fiddling with your thumbs when you realize that might've been weird, "j-just for a cup of coffee! because, y'know, youworkedsohardandit'slateandidon'twantyoutobetiredwhenyoudrivebackh—"

"i would like that a lot," he chuckles at your blabbering, smiling at you affectionately.

you lead him inside, suddenly feeling conscious about the decor of your apartment. will he think you have bad taste? is it too minimal? too messy? unkept? or—

"it's cute, really resembles you," his eyes crinkle at the corners as he says that, tucking a hair behind your ear. you blush, looking at your feet, not noticing him leaning in. his lips are a breadth away from yours as he looks into your eyes, mirroring your hesitance.

“is—is this okay?” he whispers, his eyes looking at your lips for a moment before returning his gaze to you. you lightly nod, but he just shakes his head.

“words, pretty girl. need you to say it for me,” and you melt.

“yes.”

in that instant, he kisses you, it’s soft and brief, as if he doesn’t want to hurt you or scare you away, but it’s not enough. you pull him back to you, your lips melding on his. he freezes only for a moment before pulling you flush against his body, his hands flying to your waist. your arms are wrapped around his neck as he picks you up and places you on the countertop, both of you never breaking the kiss.

“fuck, i’ve wanted this for so long and i—” he nips your ear, “i just like you so much, i always have.”

“i like you too, i’ve liked you for so long, but i didn’t know how—i didn’t know if this… this was okay.” you confess. even now, you still have your own reservations about making out with your professor. you weren’t sure if he really liked you either or if he was just playing around.

“it’s okay with me. i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he explains, looking for any hint of doubt, trying to ease them, “i’m in love with you.”

your cheeks flush as you lean your head against his chest.

“say it again.”

“i’m in love with you?” he chuckles, repeating himself.

“again.”

“i love you.”

“...i love you too.” you kiss for the millionth time that night, his lips trailing from your lips, to your cheek, ears, and neck. you moan softly and he’s already addicted. he teases you again, nipping at your collarbone when you whine, asking him to carry you both to your room upstairs. he holds you with one arm as he leads the way and you’ve never realized how… buff he is. you knew he worked out, he had told you that he goes on runs in the morning and goes to the gym after his classes, but you didn’t think he’d be this strong!

he gently lays you on your bed, hovering over you when you paw at his shirt. his heart squeezes from how cute you are and he just can’t help but oblige. he strips off his shirt in one swift motion and you press your thighs together at the sight, the motion doesn’t go unseen. he slowly unbuttons your shirt and you let him, making eye contact the entire time. he stares at your body as if he’s searing it into his mind. he presses kisses against your collarbone, not wanting to leave marks as to not inconvenience you, but starts trailing towards your cleavage. he cups your breasts through your bra, burying his face between them, savoring them. he lets them spill out from the cups and he groans. everything about you is beautiful, he just wants to worship you.

he’s careful not to leave marks, he doesn’t want to inconvenience you, but you don’t seem to share the same sentiment. you pause him in his tracks, pushing him onto the bed instead as you straddle his lap. he cocks an eyebrow, but lets you do what you want. you kiss his neck and he grips your hips tightly, grinding against you with soft groans. you mark him up, hickeys, bites, and lipstick stains his neck and chest, and he loves it. yeah he’s going to have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow in the middle of Spring, but he doesn’t mind. he continues to grind against you, rolling his hips up when you yelp when he hits a certain spot, and he snaps. he manhandles you into a new position and giggle as he’s desperate to get into your pants. he fumbles with your zipper so you help him, placing your hands on top of his and leading him slowly through it. he doesn’t even take off your pants all the way before unbuckling his belt and lowering his own just enough for his cock to flop out. he’s in such a rush, only pulling your panties aside when he teases you with his tip, letting it get coated in your slick.

“princess, you’re so wet,” he smirks, dipping his tip in before popping it back out, eliciting a whine from you.

“professor xia—”

“caleb. call me caleb.”

“c-caleb, please, stop teasing, i’m wet enough, i can take it—” you gasp when he pushes his cock in, the stretch bigger than you expected. he goes as slow as he can to not overwhelm you, but your eyes are still rolling back. when he finally bottoms out, he just stays there, his body against yours as he savors your warmth and tightness. you beg for him to move in a cute, needy voice, and he can’t resist you. he can’t deny you when you’re asking so sweetly, can he?

so he does just as you asked for. he lets his cock drag against your walls as he pulls out, taking all the time in the world, before thrusting back in quickly. you gasp again when sets a brutal pace, rutting into you like a mad man because his fantasies for the past two years are finally coming true.

“princess, you’re so t-tight,” he groans, his balls slapping against your clit and his tip kissing your cervix.

“no, y-you’re too big,” you retort, moaning uncontrollably as you hold onto his shoulders.

he curses for the first time as he grabs your pants, yanking them off along with your panties so that he can have full access to your cunt. he grips your thighs and pushes you back so they lay against your chest, reaching even deeper than before. he thumbs your clit while fucking you rougher than he would’ve liked for your first time together, but he can’t help himself. you’re so delicious. there’s so many things he wanted to do with you, but he couldn’t hold himself back. he wanted to finger you and eat you out for hours, to edge you and overstimulate you at the same time, worship your body from head to toe, but the moment he heard you moan, he lost all reason.

his thrusts are getting sloppy as your moans are getting louder when you finally snap, cumming and squeezing his cock oh, so good, making him reach his peak as well. he spills his cum into you, groaning against your shoulder, biting down softly as you hold him close, not letting him go or pull out. when you both come down from your highs, he kisses your temple, but his cock is still hard.

“ah, one more round? or did you want that coffee break?”

oh god. am i ovulating? cuz why did a video of caleb in glasses captioned with "professor caleb" make me run to tumblr

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 15!

i'm drafting this list while there is a wasp trapped in my bathroom. i know it's trapped because there's no open window, but when i tried to get in there to open the window, the wasp flew right towards me so that left me with no choice but to slam the door shut and pretend it's not there. this is not related to the fic recs at all but i'm gonna need you all to send wasp-deterring thoughts my way pls

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all i see is what i should be | oceanofchaos/@islandoforder | 11.3k | T

Episode tag to 8x12 Disconnected, where Buck ends up dating the single father from the first call, and everyone (up to and including Eddie) is super normal and cool about it. i love how this fic integrates all of the 118 and the narration is so good!!

24 hours on the clock | Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars | 14.9k | M

During a painfully slow shift at the 118, everyone is in a weird mood, and nobody is acting normally. Surely the day will go fine. this fic is just so, so much fun!! i love how all of these characters are captured and their shenanigans and just everything <3 delightful!

connecting you to a driver... | MacksDramaticShenanigans/@redrosydiaz | 4k | GA

Buck spends one hour and fifteen minutes after he lands in the El Paso International Airport pick-up zone, waiting for his ride. He also racks up one hell of a debt in Uber cancellation fees. this fic is the absolute best way to use eddie's uber driving and i love that so much. such a fun one!!

garden of dreams | simplyylupin | 3k | T

When they'd first started dating, Buck had warned him he is, quote-on-quote, an octopus in bed. That he has a tendency of latching onto whoever's closest and flailing all over them. Legs tangled, arms wound, heads tucked together, noses brushing. What Buck never mentioned, however, is his affinity for talking in his sleep. this was a reread and i lowkey can't believe i haven't recced it before?? it's one of my absolute favs, so soft and sweet and fluffy <3

hold down my heart | inbetweenthestacks/@organizedstardust | 1.3k | GA

The morning after the chess tournament. i love christopher in this one!! and buck's cookware is just <3 so good!!

i'm not going anywhere (at least not anywhere you're not) | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 3.1k | T

it’s raining and eddie’s home and he might be a little in love with his best friend. okay but do you really need to know more than that it's RAINING and eddie's HOME and he might be a little IN LOVE with his BEST FRIEND?? yeah i didn't think so either. this is lovely and beautiful and just so very good <3

kisses and embraces | tawaifeddiediaz/@aashiqeddiediaz | 2.6k | GA

His phone beeping takes him away from the book he was only pretending to read, bored out of his mind. The familiar text tone brings a smile to his face instantly, one that makes him glad he’s alone so he’s not embarrassed by the giddy feeling that takes over. this was another reread, and what a lovely one it is <3 this is the cutest!!

perils of post diaz dating | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 22.9k | E

Eddie leaves and Buck tries to fuck about it. Instead, he fails miserably and repeatedly, gets a cat and makes some discoveries. this is just brilliant!! i loved the buddie and the buck and bobby and the cat and just <3<3<3

taylor kelly's (un)fortunate mistake. | dylaesthetics | 5k | T

Buck, a notoriously bad dancer, is in need of a dance partner for Taylor’s upcoming wedding. Who else to turn to, than his conveniently skilled best friend? so good!! one of my favourite buddie things is when they attend weddings together <3 also this fic includes some incredibly correct opinions on buck and christina perri and i love that yay

when your heart releases, you won't fall to pieces | Daffi_990_ao3/@daffi-990 | 13.9k | GA

Buck supports the Diaz boys after Eddie's breakdown, realising along the way that home really is where the heart is. this is just beautiful <3 i love a good breakdown fic and this is the best breakdown fic!! so good!!

[amaranthineghost]

hello!!!

can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.

thanks!!!!

| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.

ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion

TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.

but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.

staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.

despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.

they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.

time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.

time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.

it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.

it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.

but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.

having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.

no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.

no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.

and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.

it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.

she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.

the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.

it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.

"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.

she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.

from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.

with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.

because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.

times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.

times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.

times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.

it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.

so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.

but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.

she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.

as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.

part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.

this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.

time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.

they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.

they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.

deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.

with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.

and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.

countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.

when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.

"don't call the baby an 'it!'"

"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.

"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.

"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.

all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.

with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.

every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.

he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.

"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.

" 's at home."

when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.

"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.

he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.

she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"

"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"

when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.

"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.

she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.

instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.

with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.

he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.

[neigepomme]

watching the sunset with caleb fic i beg >< just laying our head on his shoulder with his arm around us ARGH i need something fluffy 🙏ALSO CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS!! you deserve the world 🫶

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ style / caleb x reader

synopsis; special delivery! did a certain pipsqueak order a cute pilot boyfriend to distract her from her upcoming exams? well you're in luck, because caleb is here to help!

🍎 pomme's notes — omg i have not listened to taylor swift in a HOT MINUTE this was fun.. if anyone's interested in participating in my drabble event, the info is right here!

⋆ 800 words / fluff / fem reader / 2nd person

exam season was going to kill you. or the heat in your dorm room. whatever came first.

studying for the hunter's exam was a pain, on top of that you were growing insanely homesick and missing caleb's braised chicken wings. you loved the prospect of being a hunter, of course you did, but being away from your boyfriend's arms and instead being doomed to pull all-nighters 3 days in a row? not fun.

on top of that, the AC in your dorm room was out and you felt yourself sticking to your chair. the sad fan that the college provided while you waited for maintenance wasn't doing much to help, instead the soft breeze from your window was the only thing bringing you a semblance of cool air.

but in the midst of your misery you just thought about caleb.

he was busy at the DAA, probably with an assignment in the deepspace tunnel or something, so you didn't let him know that you really, really missed him — something about not putting pilots under stress. that didn't stop you from dreaming about him whisking you away from your studies, just for the evening, at least.

your phone buzzing broke your reverie, and when you look down to read the text message, your entire expression brightens.

getting up from your desk, you look down your window, and it's like caleb can read your mind. leaning against his car outside of your dorm, he waves at you to come down, and you quickly put on shoes and run to him.

"i thought you were in the deepspace tunnel?!"

he grins at you before leaning down to hold you tightly in his arms.

"what, can't i miss my girlfriend who's clearly been deprived of vitamin caleb? you look like you haven't been sleeping at all. exam season's that bad?"

you really were going through a caleb deficiency but you weren't going to outright admit it, so you instead just melt into his embrace and complain about your finals. how much you've studied, and how stressful your teammates for your end of semester presentation were — and that stupid broken AC.

resting his chin atop your head, he hums and sways with you back and forth, soothing you a bit from finals anxiety.

"what do you say we go on a ride and watch the sunset together then? distract you a bit from schoolwork."

it's in moments like these that you think caleb truly is your soulmate.

nodding furiously, you open the passenger door and get inside, all while he laughs at how excited you are. this was just like when you two were younger, he'd take you on late evening drives and you'd sing along to whatever song was on the radio while the soft breeze caressed both of your faces.

this was the closest to heaven on earth. caleb by your side, singing taylor swift songs at the top of your lungs together, while sipping the fizzy apple soda he got for you.

he pulls into a parking lot near a national park, where you can see the setting sun reflected into the nearby lake motioning at you to get out. opening the car trunk to reveal a blanket laid out and a box of your favorite cut up fruits, he hops in before extending a hand towards you.

"get comfy, i'm kidnapping you for the next few hours before i have to go back to the DAA."

caleb really was an angel sent from above to save you from college troubles, wasn't he? you grab onto his hand and he drags you towards him, allowing you to rest your body against him, his arm resting around your waist.

finally allowing yourself to exhale and push away the stress of exams, you lean your head on his shoulder and stare at the sunset. the purple and orange shades remind you of him, his gorgeous eyes always so full of love when he looked at you.

"this sunset looks like you, caleb. i missed this."

you don't need to see his face to know that he's got a smile plastered on it after hearing your comment, his ears probably red and his cheeks flushed from your sudden wave of romanticism.

"mmh. missed this too, pips. missed you."

and as the last rays of sunlight fade from view, you think — loving caleb could never get tiring for you. a never ending teenage love, never growing old, never going out of style.

🍎 pomme's notes — i think caleb would know the lyrics to popular pop songs and yell them out with you in the car nods nods.. also caleb come whisk me away from my responsibilities PLEASE!!!!!

[goldengleams]

hiii pookie 😙 i've never requested anything so, feel free to do anything you want but w matt rempe pls? 🩷 ily!

come back to bed | m. rempe

hope you enjoy sof!!! love you my cutie!

You rolled over in bed, having just woke up from a dream and wanting to reposition yourself in Matt’s arms. You let out a soft whine when you realized he wasn’t next to you in bed.

“Matt?” You whispered. You lifted yourself up on your elbows to squint at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 3:29 AM.

Reluctantly arising from your warm bed, you quietly walked down the hallway. You carried a blanket for Matt in case he was asleep on the couch, which wasn’t uncommon if he was watching hockey. The bathroom light wasn’t on, nor was the light near your television. In your sleepy haze, you heard a glass clinking as it was set down. Bingo.

Finally, you spotted Matt sitting on a stool by the kitchen island. His hunched figure was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the candle that was lit in front of him. The scent of vanilla entered your nose as you drew closer.

“Matt, why are you up? It’s three in the morning,” You called in a whisper. He whipped his head towards you, startled by your presence.

“Geez, you scared me Y/N,” he chuckled softly. Matt’s hair was strewn about, the product of him running his hands through it incessantly and his leg bounced up and down.

“Sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, stepping closer to him to wrap him up in the blanket. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Yeah, just couldn’t stop thinking about today,” he sighed, mumbling a soft thank you. He was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Your sleep-addled brain was not ready to comprehend big feelings, but you wanted to be there for him.

“It’s finally happening,” you said, smiling. “I’m so excited for you.”

Matt nodded, focusing his attention on the cup in front of him. He traced the rim with his finger, lost in thought once again.

You were overwhelmed with a sense of deja vu as you watched him in the ambient light. You and Matt had met two years ago. At the time, you were a college student in Connecticut and Matt was playing hockey in Hartford. You had met through a dating app and while it didn’t seem like you had anything in common, Matt had won you over pretty easily. Both of you were set on living in New York City-you wanted to do more schooling and Matt was hoping to be called up by the New York Rangers. After many date nights, hockey games, and one graduation, you were both closer to living your dreams. You had been waiting for the day that Matt came and stayed at your apartment while preparing to play for the Rangers.

But, it was never without some bumps in the road.

You knew you’d never understand what Matt went through as a hockey player, but for the past two weeks, you had tried to be there for him. He’d received the call from the Rangers in the beginning of February to play, but he hadn’t gotten any playing time. That would change today when he made his debut.

“Your family is so excited too, I can’t wait to sit next to Steph and Alley and cheer you on,” you tried again. It was true, in a few hours, you would be driving with Matt’s family to MetLife Stadium to watch his NHL debut. You couldn’t be happier for him.

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and it’s, like, here. Feel like I’ve waited for so long and I just want it to go well. Especially today.”

“It’ll go well, babe. You know that,” you said. You made your way to sit next to him at the other stool. Matt and his family had been thinking of his Dad who had passed away and you knew that it would be a huge deal for him to make his debut on his anniversary. You reached out for his hand and gently traced a pattern onto his palm.

“You’re going to make your family so proud, Matt. Especially your Dad.”

Matt released a shuddering breath he had been holding in for far too long. He pulled the blanket tighter around his broad shoulders, a chill running through him from the seasonal February weather.

“What if I’m nobody?” Matt whispered it so quietly you’re not sure you would’ve heard it if it wasn’t silent. The doubts of not being good enough swarmed in his mind.

“First of all, you won’t be nobody, Matt. And I know that the people in your circle wouldn’t care if you scored a hundred goals or zero, or ever played with the Rangers. You’ll always be somebody to us,” you said softly. “You’ll always be someone to me.”

You brought his knuckles to your lips and gave a soft kiss. You watched the tension leave his shoulders and he quickly reached over to give you a kiss. He leaned into you easily.

“There’s my boy,” you said against his lips.

“Thank you,” Matt said. “And thanks for listening to me at 3 in the morning.”

You chuckled. “Technically it’s 4 now, so you should come back to bed and cuddle me until your stupid alarm goes off at 7.”

Matt blew out the candle and stood up from the stool. You made grabby hands at Matt, which he quickly took and led the two of you back to bed. You both climbed in bed and Matt wrapped the blanket around both of you to keep warm.

“Love you baby,” he mumbled, already drifting off. His hair tickled your ear as he moved closer to you. “Gonna score for you tonight.”

“Yeah and you better not get in any fights, Rempe.”

“Mmm, no promises.”

——————————————————————

Enjoy this Matt Rempe blurb and go request more in my inbox! 😋😋

[miaoua3]

hey!! popping in to say stay the morning was just 🧎‍♀️perfect. cld i request for some boyfriend ceo cheol hcs? <3 cant get enough of that trope omg.

LOVE UR WORK SM BAE

heya! thank you so much for the nice words! and sure i can, it would be my pleasure🫶

CEO! Seungcheol Boyfriend Headcanons:

• (sfw headcanons)

met you at some fancy dinner that you were accompanying your friend to, literally saw you across the room and couldn’t look away, literally stopped listening to whoever it was that he was talking to, said a brief “excuse me” before he immediately approached you to ask you for your name, the rest is history❤️

boyfriend or a sugar daddy? well- both actually. he literally gets mad if you even dare to think about paying for something with your own money, his black card has its first and foremost place in your wallet so you better be using it

although he indulges in buying you expensive and extravagant presents, cheol is actually all about small actions of affection. randomly ordering you food while you are at work, sending you flowers, tying your shoes when they come undone, holding your hand while you walk down the stairs in heels to make sure you don’t fall-he does it all and does it without even having to think twice about it, that’s how much he loves and adores you

has his kitchen filled to the brim with all the sweets and treats that you absolutely love, you definitely will put on a bit of a healthy relationship weight when you start dating him

never lets you drive to his place, always either picks you up himself or has his driver pick you up, not because he thinks you can’t but because he’d rather not risk it and just because he thinks it isn’t necessary, his princess shouldn’t be doing anything except look pretty and give him tons of kisses❤️

definitely books and pays for all the activities you have always wanted to try like your dream concerts, sky diving (if you are into dying like that lol💀) etc- just anything to make his girl happy

didn’t even ask you to move in officially, he just hung an extra key to your keychains, started insisting that you stay the night (every night actually) and eventually…your place was empty and his place was filled with your things and that made him so so happy❤️

behind the cold and moody persona he puts up as a cover is the clingiest, babiest boyfie seungcheolie ever :(( will text you all the time, asking when you will be back so you can cuddle him, “its been so long since you cuddled him last :(“ (its been 3 hours….)

is absolutely miserable when he has to go away for some business trips, literally counts the days until he comes back home to you❤️

• (nsfw! headcanons)

definitely provider both in and outside the bedroom, he will always put your pleasure first, refuses for his bedroom life to be just something quick and simple, will always spend hours just making love to you until he knows that you are 100% satisfied

LOVES spending his money on lingerie and expensive jewellery for you to wear in bed, he thinks there’s nothing hotter than you clad in red lacy lingerie and with rubies hanging from your ears and neck, he finds it so hot that HE was the one to buy all of that and finds it even hotter that HE is the only one who has the privilege to take it all off (read: rip it all off)

possessive as fuck, is always asking you “who is my good girl?, on nights where he is jealous and feeling pissed might even let the words “who do you belong to?” slip out, but like not in a misogynistic and egotistical way, but more so in a “i can’t live without you in my life so i need you to remind me that you will want to be with me forever :(“ way

doesn’t want to risk it with shower sex because you almost slipped and fell one time and gave him a mini heart attack, bathtub sex however? lets just say he always has to clean up the water that has splashed outside the bathtub while you rode him to the point he saw heaven

not really into bondage but loves to restrict your movement with his hands alone, gets him off knowing he’s strong enough to manhandle you in ways he desires

loves your ass more than anything else in the world, his favourite position is 100% doggy or fucking you in front of a mirror with your back turned towards him so he can see both your face and your ass

big on leaving hickeys all over your body, he just wants to mark what is his so everyone can know to back. the fuck. off. of his girl (loves it when you do it to him too, he just wants the whole world to know that you two are each other’s person, even if it’s because of the hickeys littered all over his collarbones

low-key into voyeurism, likes the danger of being discovered (and getting into a scandal apparently smh bro doesn’t care about his public image he’s just thinking with his dick)

i said it once and i will say it again- my man has a praise kink and that’s the end of it, he just loves reassuring you and praising you how good you are doing and how good of a girl you are being for him, would never call you the b-word, you are his princess, his baby, not…that word :(( (well unless you insist to-)

thats all i got for now😭 hope that you like it! love you mwah💋

[reidsdimples]

Feverish- 3- Finale

Spencer Reid x Reader

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI‼️

Part 2

Spencer’s still sick, but clear headed enough to know he wants to try again with you.

A/N- this was highly requested. Kind of felt finished after the first two but I hope this concludes it well 🫶🏻

"No!" Spencer screams and thrashes in his sleep.

"Hey hey," you roll over and press a hand to his chest. He's drenched in sweat and clearly running a temperature still.

You hear him mumble an all too familiar name in his sleep, the source of most of his nightmares.

"Maeve, no.," its barely audible.

"Spence," you rub his chest again. His shirt is sticking to him so you start carefully tugging it up his body as he stirs awake. "You were having a nightmare," you whisper.

He helps you get the shirt off and pulls you onto him. You nearly protests but he's holding onto you desperately as though you might slip away.

This was night three and you had hope that tomorrow would bring him relief from this awful flu. He groaned in pain against you before a coughing fit forced him to roll over on his side, sending you back to your side of the bed.

“Hold on honey,” you try not to overthink the term of endearment that came to you naturally.

You grab the NyQuil liquid which you know he hates but give it to him anyway. It works faster than the pills.

You brush his damp hair back from his forehead and help him get adjusted in bed.

“Here,” you push a cough drop into his mouth and he scrunches his nose at the taste.

“You big baby,” you tease. He smiles weakly.

It’s three am according to the clock so you crawl back into bed. You turn on your side to see him facing you, his face in his hand as he watched you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs.

“Shh,” you shush him and wipe underneath his eyes which are watering from being sick.

“The first time I saw you, I finally understood why the sun rises every morning. I had a purpose,” he whispers and regards you with those brown eyes that melt your heart.

“Spencer,” you breathe and cup his cheek. He blinks. “I missed you too.”

The small smile that plays on his lips feels like the answer to a question you didn’t know to ask.

“Sleep my love,” you comfort him.

“Say it again,” he pleads.

“My love,” you humor him. It melts your heart, he’s so vulnerable right now. You want to just hold him and protect him.

“My love.”

He falls asleep as you gently rub his scalp.

-

Something stirs you awake hours later. At first you think you’re dreaming- a dirty dream about Spencer which you have more often than you should. You moan which pulls you out of sleep completely.

Your eyes dart open and the sensation you’d been feeling wasn’t in your head at all.

“Good morning, well, afternoon,” Spencer purrs. He’s planting kisses on your stomach, biting and nipping at your skin while his strong hand cups your tit.

“Aren’t you sick?” You giggle and sit up.

“I. Feel. Better.” He breaths as he kisses down to your hip bones and tightens his grip on your breast. Your nipple hardens and he pinches it through the thin tank top.

“Mmm, Spencer,” it’s meant to come off as a warning but he looks up at your through long lashes and messy hair.

“Spencer you still have a fever,” you swat at him after feeling his forehead.

“So?” He whimpers. You’re dumbfounded at the way he can feel so bad but be so horny. He always did have a high sex drive though.

He hooks his long fingers into your panties and beginnings to tug them down. Your heart flutters in anticipation.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” You reason as he begins kissing your inner thighs, discarding your underwear somewhere behind him.

“You moaned my name in your sleep. How often does that happen?” He pants against your inner thigh and then bites down. You wince.

You grab his face and drag him up your body.

“I’m serious,” you pull him into a kiss and he tastes like mint. It’s refreshing from his sick smell he’s carried for days. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore, weak, but not as bad,” he answers and kisses you deeper now. You allow his tongue to flick over yours as his hand grips your hip and squeezes.

He’s pushing and grinding his hips against you. He’s still shirtless, only wearing boxers, and it drives you crazy as he invades your mouth.

“I want to give this another shot,” he pleads and kisses your neck.

“Mmmm,” you can’t speak.

“Please,” he kisses your shoulder. Then he kisses the swell of your breast, his pleading eyes locked with yours.

He nuzzles into your skin again, desperately needing your closeness before leaning to the side to cough into his arm. You look at him sympathetically.

“You need to focus more on resting, Doctor,” you scold him.

“My fever is low grade and I’m over the worst of it,” he pauses. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Right,” you play with his hair absentmindedly.

“I’m serious, it’s only 100.6,” he laughs. “Honestly though, I feel more clear headed and..” he trails off.

“And?” You cup his cheeks which smooshes his face slightly. He’s still between your legs, laying on your stomach.

“Part of me is mortified at my behavior the past few days,” he speaks slowly. “Part of me wants to,” he starts running a hand up your shirt.

“Spencer Reid, are you objectifying me?” You opt to joke because you’ve shamelessly enjoyed his unfiltered behavior.

“Do you wanna be objectified?” He kisses your stomach. Heat crawls up your face.

“Only by you,” you admit and run your thumb across his plump lips. He smiles at you, shyly but there’s relief in it.

“So is that a yes? You want to give this another shot?” He asks, beaming.

“Yes Spence,” you sigh and he crawls up your body once more to kiss you.

The kiss becomes more heated when you feel his erection pressed against your bare cunt. His boxers offer little resistance to the friction against you.

“Please, I need it,” he begs breathlessly into the crook of your neck as he rolls his hips into you. He’s pitiful whimpering and shameless begging has wetness gathering between your thighs.

You nod.

“Mhmm, I need you too,” you whisper and he latches his mouth into your shoulder. He sucks hard and you can feel him leaving a mark as he moans against you. The sensation has you bucking your hips against him, feeling his cock rubbing up between your folds.

You lose track of time for a moment, now realizing he had pulled himself free of his boxers as he bites and kisses your neck. Your moans blend together and he begins pressing his cock into you.

You pull your legs up and back and he adjusts himself so that he can enter you at exactly the correct angle that he knows drives you crazy.

And it does.

The head of his cock grazed upward towards your g-spot and you stop breathing as your walls remember how to fit around him.

“Oh god…” he shudders and plants wet desperate kisses along your jaw and chest. He pumps himself in slower, torturously slow as though he’s afraid one or both of you with shatter if he’s not careful.

“Spencer,” you whimper.

Both of you are moaning and whimpering messes as he rolls his hips, moving in and out of you. His arms shake and you can tell the sickness is getting to him.

You bring him flat onto you, and kiss him. Then you’re forcing him onto his back so that you’re on top of him. He grunts and moans as you sink all the way down in one swift movement. His eyes blow wide as he exhales.

“So good, Spence,” you roll your head back and remove your tank top. You give him the full view of your body and he grapples at you. He grips your hips, your waist, your breast, your thighs as you ride him.

You roll your hips, keeping him deep inside and his eye brows furrow. You know he’s getting close, you are too.

“I’ve missed you inside of me baby,” you mewl as you move up and down on his length.

“I miss it… ah,” his words are cut off when your walls clench around him. Your orgasm bursts through you suddenly.

You throw yourself forward and grip his hair as you continue to move your hips and ride out your orgasm against him. His head is forced back as you pull his hair, giving you perfect access to his throat.

You continue to ride him as you kiss and lick at him hungrily. You let him hear every moan and whimper of pleasure until he tenses below you.

“Finish in me baby, it’s fine,” you plead.

When he cums, he does so loudly. You latch your mouth over his and absorb the moans as he shoots ribbons of hot cum into you. His chest and face are now coated in a thin layer of sweat but he kisses you passionately.

You pull back from the kiss and look at him. He regards you with the most content expression, a small grin tugging at the side of his lips. You pull yourself off of him and lay beside him so you’re half sprawled on his chest.

“I never stopped loving you,” he speaks softly as his long fingers play in your hair.

“Neither did I,” you admit and kiss his chest.

Never in a million years could you have guessed that you’d get a second chance with the love of your life because of a flu.

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“No more sex until you’ve been fever free for 24 hours. Now take some of that medicine,” you sit up and point to it on the table closest to him.

He lets out a breathy laugh but does as he’s told.

[lyinginmeadow]

Imprimere sole I Paul Lahote x Swan!OC

Summary: One Swan sister left to live with her mother, while the other stayed behind, making friends of her own on the reservation. Friends who grew up and changed, leaving her confused and hurting. Word count: 3,8k

TW: angst, abandonment, injury, curse words A/N: The story takes place before the events of twilight, but it will caught up to it in no time! I changed a lot (like the ages of Jared and Paul, they are older: 17/18ish), so be aware. It will probably be long, too, haha. I also posted it on wattpad, so if anyone's interested <3 Chapter 1 - indigo >>

I couldn't understand how everything fell apart so quickly. One day, I was laughing with all my friends in the cafeteria, and the next day, they were all gone, avoiding my calls. What hurt the most was that they didn't tell me the reason for their departure. It started innocently. Sam was close to graduating, but before he could, he disappeared. He came back just to finish his final exams, ghosting not only our friend group but also Leah, who was his girlfriend. 

She tried to make it look like it didn't bother her, but it did. It especially stung since she dedicated two weeks to finding him when he went missing. She tried her best to reach him, but to no avail, and before she could attempt to save her relationship with him, her family whisked her away to visit her relatives a month before summer officially started. And due to a bad reception, we couldn't talk as much, making her the second friend lost in just under a month.

Sam started to act weird; instead of thinking of college like he always dreamed about, he looked as if he was on steroids. He grew at least a foot taller, cutting his locks and getting a tattoo. A stern, conscious look replaced his easygoing smile.

Jared heard from his mom that Sam decided to stay, forfeiting his dream, which didn't sound like him. He always talked about his plans with such passion. He almost gave all of us a heart attack when neither of us could reach him. He disappeared for two weeks, and after returning, he acted as if he didn't know us. And frankly, we didn't know him; he changed completely.

The next person to leave was Jared, who bad-mouthed Sam for his decisions, making fun of the situation. The jokes subsided, and he became distant. When I visited La Push with Paul, I would see glimpses of Jared with Sam. He stopped coming to school, making both of us worried. Did they become a part of a gang? I tried to reach both of them, but Jared's parents refused to let either of us in, and as far as I knew, Sam was never home anymore, so I didn't even bother coming. I couldn't shake the bad feeling that things were about to get worse.

What once was a friend group of 5 had now transformed into just Paul and me. He reassured me that nothing could come between us, that he loved me, and that he would make sure we got our friends back someday.

It started as a simple fever. Paul and I went out to enjoy the sun. Walking along the beach, the rays were tickling my cheeks, making me smile in contentment. Summer had always been my favorite season because it was the time when we would throw bonfires every weekend, go camping, and be awake till the late hours without a care in the world.

Paul's eyebrows pinched, his gaze shifting to the forest surrounding the beach. As if he were looking for something that wasn't there. Something I couldn't see. I reached out to take hold of his hand, but quickly pulled back. "Paul, you're burning up," I exclaimed, putting my hand on his forehead, worry lacing my voice.

He tried to dismiss my worries, his eyes still searching the trees, "I feel fine."

"Now is not the time to play hero. Come on, I'll drive." I offered, taking hold of his hand. He squeezed it, putting on a small smile. His gaze kept returning to the forest, but I didn't find it in me to care about the reason. I needed to take him home so he could eat some soup and be all better. I didn't want to admit to myself that this was how Sam and Jared left, too. With a simple fever.

I held onto that hope for the first week. I came by every day after school to check up on him, but his father didn't let me see him, even if I begged. He would send me on my way with the same sentence every day, "He doesn't want you to get sick, Lizzie. You know how he is."

But the truth was, I didn't know. Whenever one of us was sick, the other would sneak in and spend the entire time with them. Ever since we became best friends, that's how it was. Sitting in the car dad had repaired for me to use to commute to school, my eyes watered. The ache was magnifying in my chest every second. It didn't help that sleep seemed to evade me. Instead of dreamless nights, I woke up with an image of a wolf branded into my mind.

By the second week, the pain seemed to take over my whole body, and the sorrow melted into anger.

I plastered a fake smile for Charlie, and thankfully, he bought it. With him leaving in the early hours for his shift, he didn't see me waking up with tears staining my cheeks. Food had become less appetizing each day that passed. I never imagined someone leaving without a reason could leave such a hollow pain whenever I woke up. The colors of the world, once bright and golden, seemed dull in comparison.

Every movement felt impossible, but as the anger burned stronger, so did my will to not let any of them win. If they wanted to leave without so much as a goodbye, I would let them with a head held high.

Or at least that is what I wanted to do, what I intended. But the gaze of other students made my anger falter. Their eyes filled with pity, that I had no one in here anymore.

I was a stranger who attended this school because I grew up around La Push rather than in Fork. My childhood was spent with Sue and her children. Now that my friends had disappeared from my life, I had no ties to La Push, just memories. 

The only person trying to get to me was Embry, but whenever he sat down to talk to me, within the next minute, Jacob would drag him away.

Jake and I used to play together when we were children, but we grew apart when he found his friend group and I found mine. I was also older and gravitated toward being friends with his sister rather than him. Tormenting him was an added bonus, he didn't like to be reminded of. He also didn't forgive me for dating Paul, whom he found excessively annoying. A fact I understood, since Paul sometimes seemed like an asshole. From what I heard, now more than ever. And Jake assumed that I would join the guys and become the same, so he tried to protect Embry from it. Needless to say, every time Jake visited with Billy was painfully awkward.

One day, I finally got hold of Leah. I cursed the one who decided that she had to go off-grid right when I needed her here. But before I got the chance to say anything, she mumbled the words that Sam had broken up with her. Over the phone.

What a fucking coward.

I spent the whole phone call cursing him out, trying to bring Leah's mood up. Her parents, mostly Sue, insisted that since her behavior had changed so drastically given the breakup, they would probably come back at the end of July, extending their stay. More than a month from now. I tried to sound positive, telling her to find a nice rebound. That Sam was a fool for letting someone as perfect as her go. She guessed something was off with me, but fortunately didn't press.

I cut all contact with Bella, my sister, making up excuses about finals and exams that had me studying. But even she wore the same look as everyone else. Her look of pity haunted me in my dreams. It was mixed with a tinge of worry that was not strong enough for her to call Charlie and demand what was happening. Maybe if she lived here, she would try to help me. But she didn't, she was miles away with our mother in Phoenix. Not intend to move to gloomy old Forks anytime soon.

By the third week, I felt as if I was losing my mind. School was over, and I didn't have anything to keep my mind focused on. Maybe all I craved was a proper closure. Ending the years I spent pouring my love into something. But deep down, I knew that the cut they opened with their departure wouldn't heal by simply getting answers. Still, I couldn't know for sure if I didn't try. I called the Lahote residence again, but was met with a mere voicemail. "Fine," I grumbled. I took out the soup I made for Dad from the fridge, and took off.

The engine of the old red BMW roared as I soared through the forest to the familiar town.

Paul's house was small, the light blue color now faded due to the old age of the building. Parking the car in the driveway, I tried ringing the doorbell, but I was met with no answer. The anger ignited again, putting down the container next to the front door, I decided to look around the premises. 

His window was on the other side, overlooking the backyard and forest, but his room was empty, bed undone. The whole room was a mess, clothes lying on the floor, and stuffing of the pillows scattered around. I sighed, looking at the mess, noticing a broken frame in the middle of it.

A photo Leah took of the two of us just two months ago. He looked at me like I hung the moon while I was laughing about something Jared had said. We were celebrating Sam's birthday, and everything was perfect. Maybe not as perfect as I thought. Was he thinking back then about leaving?

Tears welled up in my eyes, stinging. I whipped around, leaving the scene behind me. They were making their way down my cheek as I sped through La Push. Leaving the town behind me, the forest lining the main road became a blur.

Stepping on the brakes, the car came to a screeching halt. I could barely see through the tears. And as much as I was hurting, I was not a reckless driver. Charlie drilled into me how important being a conscious driver was, and how it could save lives. I witnessed firsthand how a car crash could tear a family into pieces. 

My friends might have abandoned me, but the places we used to go to were still here. I hiked through the woods, cursing my past self for picking out a summer dress and flats that were not suitable for Washington conditions. 

After what felt like an hour of a never-ending tangle of greenery, the rays of sunshine broke through.

A soft smile flashed over my face as I sat down, looking over the scenery. The ocean roared just beneath, the salt was heavy in the air even from this distance. It was summer, but the wind was still cold; the only thing making it tolerable was the sun shining high above.

Closing my eyes, memories came rushing through. Of the time I first met him, and how it changed my perspective. Even back then, I knew there was something special about the scruffy kid from Tacoma.

No one wanted to play with him, Leah even stuck her tongue out, when he came to the playground asking if he could play with us. The boys ran each time, not wanting to bond with an outsider.

Not me.

I came over to him, extending my hand toward him. He didn't seem to trust me at first, his eyes narrowed. "I'm Lizzie, let's play together." I smiled, dimples flashing. He slowly took it, a smile appearing not long after. "I'm Paul." He mumbled, and I squeezed his hand before dragging him toward the others.

"This is Paul, he's my new best friend." I flashed everyone a cheeky smile. Leah was not happy I replaced her, so I had to promise her that he was the boy-best friend and she was more like my sister than anything, which she accepted, but I had to pinky promise. Since then, they entered a competition on who would have more of my attention. But both of them held a special place in my heart for different reasons.

Another one flashed by.

He took me to the place we always hang out together when we wanted to get away from our friends. We thought we were being sneaky, but in truth, they always knew where we were venturing off to. But Leah bullied Sam and Jared into giving us space because she knew how much I wanted to spend time with my childhood crush. It was ridiculous since he didn't seem to return those feelings.

We were sitting there, laughing about some gossip, when suddenly he tensed up. The sun was beginning to set, which meant we would have to head back. He turned to face me, blushing.

"I like you. A lot." He said nervously. I never saw him being nervous about anything, much less girls. He always seemed so natural when talking to them, and normally, I was no exception. Blinking a couple of times to shake the thoughts of Paul being with other people, you smiled.

"I like you, too, silly. Took you long enough." Before he could react, I kissed him. It was a sloppy kiss, but a memorable one nonetheless.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I was so exhausted that sleep didn't seem to find me back home. But here, surrounded by all the memories, laughter echoing, my consciousness slipped away from me.

The cold breeze made me jerk awake. The sun was now long gone, the moonlight resting on my face. "Shit, shit, shit." I hastily stood up. Feeling light-headed, I had to find the nearest tree for support. Charlie's going to kill me was the first thought that popped into my head. If I didn't kill myself first trying to get back on the road.

In the daytime, I had no problem navigating the woods. I grew up around here, and it was as natural as breathing. But nighttime was a different story. My inner compass didn't seem to work properly.

I mindlessly sped through the forest, becoming more and more frustrated. Tears were now freely running down my cheek, obscuring my vision further. How could I have been so stupid to go here alone? Not that I had anyone who would accompany me.

The greenery seemed endless, the stray branches lashing my face and hands as I quickened my pace in sheer panic. I stupidly left my phone in the car, dad was probably freaking out already, wondering why I wasn't safe at home.

Lost in panic, my foot caught on a rock, making me lose balance. My ankle caved, twisting at an unnatural angle, as I took a tumble down a small rocky hill. I began to shake uncontrollably as anxiety mixed with pain from my wounds rocked through me, sitting in a little creek that soaked my clothes.

I tried to stand up, but my ankle didn't let me. Sobbing harder, I sat there for what felt like an hour. 

But the inner voice, the one last part trying to keep me sane, urged me to stand up. Get out of the cold water. My scraped palms found slippery rocks, using them to crawl out of the creek one by one.

I was so tired and cold. All I truly wanted was to curl up and just shut my eyes for a little bit, reveling the the sound of his voice. In my nightmares, it usually didn't sound so soft.

"Billy called." Sam's rough voice shattered Paul's train of thought. He barely lifted his gaze to meet his. Being away from Lizzie hurt like nothing he had ever experienced. He didn't understand it. He loved her, but he couldn't have her. Not until he learned to control himself. And even then, the secret was too big for him to risk it. And bringing her in on it was not an option; it would put not only her but the pack in danger. And as much as he hated himself for hurting her, it was the right thing to do. It didn't change the fact that he couldn't bring himself to fully let her go. 

He went to the Swan house just to make sure she was okay every chance he got. His heart was breaking more in the process of being there and not being able to touch her or look into her eyes.

See her smile, which made the colors dance and the world around dim. 

Jared didn't want to patrol with him anymore, since he was so snappy around everyone. And Sam didn't know how to help him, so he let him visit her house, even when he knew how unhealthy it was. He was dealing with taking care of Emily, who was still in the hospital after he had hurt her. Another reason added to the growing list of why Lizzie was better off without him.

But Paul couldn't help himself, something was pulling him to her. And the pain seemed to subdue by a fraction, just to be replaced by his conscience.

"They can't find Liz. She didn't come home from school."

Time slowed. Before Sam could order him anything, Paul bolted out the door. The one time he doesn't accompany her car from school to home, she decides to disappear. All possibilities run through his head like a thunderstorm. What if scenarios that he wasn't able to stop. She could be lying in the ditch somewhere. A car crash. Or a vampire.

He shifted, discarding his clothes in the process. Running through the wood, he tried to catch her scent, any sign of her. His heart was beating faster with every second he couldn't find her. He could hear Sam shouting orders in his mind, but it was all drowned out by his worry for her. It was she who occupied his every thought, his entire existence.

He couldn't understand how she had such a strong hold on him. She always seemed to be the light that shone, guiding him. It was like that since he met her all those years ago.

Running onto the road, not a care in the world that something could hit him. His gaze found a small red car parked at the side of the road, all abandoned.

Her car.

He sent a message through his mind to Sam, informing him of the new development, and took off running.

He knew this part of the forest, and he knew her. If she needed to clear her head, she came here. She always came to this spot with him. Why didn't he think of it? But before he got to it, he caught her scent. She was so close.

The moon was shining, casting shadows on the path. Paul slowed down, changing the course to her location. He could hear her now, quietly sobbing, muttering an incoherent melody. He peeked through the thick greenery, trying not to make a sound. His wolf form was hard to hide, but her eyes were closed. She was shivering, her drenched clothes hanging onto her form.

He stifled a whine coming out of his throat. "I've got her." Sending another mental message down the shared bond between his brothers, he backed up a couple of steps, losing sight of her once again. He shifted back to his human form.

Thankfully, since he and his brothers came to these parts of the woods often, there was a bag of clothes nearby.

Coming back to her, she didn't change her position, still hugging her shivering form. He stepped closer, kneeling before her, but she didn't notice him. She seemed to be lost in a trance. His warm palm found her freezing hand, making her snap out of it. Lizzie gasped out loud, eyes opening in shock, looking around frenzied, disoriented. "Shh, it's me. I've got you." He cooed. 

Her eyes found his, and even in the darkness of the night, he felt it. The world shifted, everything seemed to blur as time slowed for just a second. The bond held him captive.

He was scared, terrified even, to face her after he shifted. Putting her in danger was one of the reasons he distanced himself. But the thought of not having her as an imprint terrified him. 

What if they spend years together just for an imprint to ruin it? Sam tried to fight it, but it was useless. What if he wasn't strong enough to fight it? He couldn't stomach the thought of someone coming between the two of them. He felt conflicted since her being his imprint meant she was a part of this dangerous world now. No way out.

She sobbed, snapping him out of the trance, "Paul?"

He blinked in shock, trying to regain composure. He needed to get her out, preferably to a hospital. "Are you hurt?" He searched every inch of her shivering body, which was now reaching towards him in an attempt to warm itself up.

She nodded, looking down at her ankle. She was missing a shoe, her leg was swollen and red. He reached out to touch it to examine how bad the wound was only for her to wince.

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" He whispered, trying to keep calm even when his own heart was racing. He gently picked her up, letting her put her scraped palms on his chest to warm up.

She didn't speak the whole way to the car, where Jared was already waiting. "Sam went to the Swan house to tell Charlie." He nodded, barely acknowledging him as he put Lizzie in the backseat of her car.

She opened her eyes to look up at him, pleading with him not to let go. He gently squeezed her hand, "I need to drive, beautiful." He whispered again before shutting the door. He jumped into the driver's seat, speeding through the woods to the hospital in Forks, leaving Jared behind. It was not ideal by any means. He didn't want her anywhere near Dr. Fang, but he had no choice. She needed medical attention, and they could offer it. The only thing Paul could do was hope, he didn't have tonight's shift.

[tacoguacamole]

SEROTONIN SKY | MYG - ONE SHOT

Summary: In Serotonin Sky, Min Yoongi reunites with you—his former creative partner and lost love—amidst the backdrop of a music festival in LA. A spontaneous trip to Joshua Tree reawakens old feelings and long-buried truths, forcing Yoongi to confront the cost of chasing dreams without you. A tender, bittersweet story of love, timing, and second chances under starlit skies.

[Pairing: Idol/Producer!Min Yoongi x Producer!Female Reader]

[Theme: L2E/Angst]

[Status: Completed One Shot inspired off a track.]

The hotel room is too quiet.

Min Yoongi lies awake on his back, eyes tracing the dark ceiling, while Los Angeles hums distantly beneath the high-rise windows. The digital clock on the nightstand blinks a sterile blue: 3:47 a.m.

He hasn’t slept in 36 hours—not since rehearsals started, not since the lights and smoke machines drowned out the crowd, not since he saw you again for the first time in nearly a year.

He squeezes his eyes shut. Presses his palms to his face like he can undo the memory of you with pressure and breath alone.

You weren’t supposed to be there.

But of course you were. You’d always said you’d climb your way to the top, whether or not the world was ready. And he believed you. You weren’t chasing the spotlight—but when it came to you, it came naturally. Headphones slung around your neck, coffee in hand, that sharp glint in your eye that could slice through the thickest creative haze.

And just like that—just a glimpse of you on that rooftop studio—Yoongi lost every reasoned thought he’d spent the last year stacking like bricks.

He should have nodded. Said congratulations. Maybe even smiled.

But then you smiled first.

And that was the end of that.

~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~

The next day, he runs into you again. He’ll call it an accident, but that’s a lie he tells himself to make the spiral feel less deliberate.

You're beside a mixing booth, sleeves pushed up, listening with your full body like you always do—head tilted, jaw tense, one hand tapping your thigh to the rhythm of a half-finished beat. You haven’t changed, not really. He watches from the doorway too long.

Then you turn.

And you see him.

And you don’t look away.

You approach like you’re not holding a year of silence between your fingers. “Hey, Min.”

His name, in your voice, still sounds like the hook of a song he never finished.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he lies.

You arch a brow, unimpressed. “Liar.”

He almost smiles.

He wants—desperately—to say something important. Something brave. I need you in my life, I’m not lying. But the thrum of the bass from the monitors swallows the words, and so does his pride.

So he says nothing.

And watches you walk away again.

That night, he writes like he’s bleeding.

Later, after most of the crew has cleared out and the last cables are coiled, you’re leaning against your car in the lot, arms crossed like you're waiting for him.

“You still drive aimlessly when your head’s too loud?” you ask.

He doesn't answer. Just unlocks his rental and tosses you the keys.

The playlist is yours.

Old songs. Unfinished demos. Your voice humming along to a melody he forgot he sent you. The city falls away in the rearview mirror, swallowed by a desert that stretches endlessly ahead.

You roll the window down and stretch your hand out into the wind. “You ever been to Joshua Tree?”

He glances at you. “Once. Years ago.”

You turn your head, voice softer now. “Then take me again.”

At 1:04 a.m., you're barefoot on the hood of the car beneath a sky scattered with stars. You draw your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them. You don’t speak. You don’t have to.

Yoongi watches you instead of the constellations.

The curve of your cheek, illuminated faintly in moonlight. The way the night seems to hush itself around you.

“She’s a supernova, I’m a casualty,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone.

You turn to him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Just… working lyrics.”

You nod. You understand. You always did.

A few minutes pass.

Then you ask, quietly, “Why’d you leave?”

His breath fogs in the night air.

“Timing. Fame. Fear. Thought I had to follow the dream or lose it forever. And I didn’t think I could be what you needed.”

You don’t move. Just stare out at the sky like you’re trying to find the version of him you once believed in.

“I never asked you to be anything,” you say. “Just honest.”

Yoongi’s throat tightens. Because honesty is the one thing he buried. The one thing he wrote around, but never into.

“I still love you,” he says, voice raw.

You blink. But you don’t look away.

And maybe that’s how he knows you still love him too.

On the drive back, you fall asleep somewhere past Palm Springs. Your seat is reclined, your hand resting between the seats, close enough to touch.

He glances at you in the quiet. The world blurs by in streaks of red taillights and desert shadows. Music hums low.

Fine like a wine, she’s my type, call her wifey.

He closes his eyes at a red light. Breathes you in.

I’ll rest my eyes, live my life in the backseat, he thinks, before the light turns green.

~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~~ ♬ ~

Back in Seoul, weeks later, when the silence returns, when he’s alone again, Yoongi plays the track he wrote that night. The one he never released.

It starts with desert wind. A faint laugh caught on tape. His voice, unpolished and human.

Serotonin sky… Got her bringing out the best in me. Every constellation over Joshua Tree…

And when he closes his eyes, he sees you again.

Back on that hood.

Still by his side.

[ahhnini]

let you break my heart again - rafe cameron x reader

your relationship with rafe is nothing more than a twisted fantasy

warnings - fake dating, rafe breaks reader’s heart, fluff, angst, degradation (not in a kinky way), not proofread!

a/n - based off a dream I had of rafe, kind of in a writing slump so pls send in reqs! <3

when rafe cameron came knocking at your doorstep at two in the morning, face angry, you were more than confused. you two have never been that close, however, the forced proximity of figure eight led you two to form an acquaintance with another. when you had asked him what was going on, he barged into your house, gripping onto the sides of your shoulders like you were gonna fly away. he looked up at you, eyes red. then, you heard him say words that you didn’t think he’d ever utter to you, “I need you to be my girlfriend.”

so that’s how you ended up here, laughing with the camerons’ on their yacht, sailing the sea. it’s been a month since you’ve agreed to be rafe’s “girlfriend” and everyone on the island bought it. they’ve never known that much about you anyways, so when he started parading you around, everyone began to gossip how rafe cameron charmed the mystery girl of kildare island.

you felt a kiss on your cheek as you pour yourself another drink. “you doin’ okay?” rafe asks as he begins to pour himself a whiskey shot. you nod your head, looking up at him while he downs his drink, “good,” he wipes his lips, walking away to talk to his father. you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. this was harder than you thought, especially when you feel butterflies in your stomach every time he shows an ounce of affection to you.

you made a promise to yourself that this was definitely a no strings attached situation. he would get you around the island, introducing you to valuable connections, while his reputation would change to be a better one. it was a win-win. you didn’t really think about the other factors, like the fact that you’ve had a secret crush on the infamous kook prince since you were twelve.

you really shouldn’t be feeding into your delusions like this; it’s unhealthy. that’s what you keep telling yourself, but each time you see him, you can’t help but have a smidge of optimism, that he actually likes you, wants you.

your heart breaks in the serene island of guadalupe, tears streaming down your face as rafe yells at you in the costal house bedroom. “why would I ever like you, y/n! the only reason why we’re doing this is for my reputation, for my dad to trust me again, for me to show my family that i’ve changed! you don’t mean anything to me, stop thinking i’m actually in love with you, because i’m not! I don’t even think I’d wanna be friends with you,” he huffs, cornering you to a wall. he lifts your chin, observing your tear stricken face, “cry all you want, but that’s not gonna help me change the way I feel.” he backs off, turning around to enter the bathroom, “i’m gonna take a shower, clean yourself off, make yourself presentable. we have dinner in two hours.”

you sip on your latte, waiting for rafe to get back home. you sat like a wife who’s husband spent too much time in the office. except he wasn’t your husband, he was just…a guy. you hear the front door shut, immediately shuffling to greet him. “hey, what are you doin’ here?” he slurred, breath reeking of alcohol. “uh—wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all!” you fidgeted with your hands. he let out a soft hum, “you can spend the night if you want to, y/n, i’m going to topper’s,” you look up at him, meeting his dilated pupils, “wha—huh? you’re gonna drive to topper’s?” rafe rolls his eyes, nodding, “yeah, I am—” “no! I can’t let you do that, let me drive you, c’mon—” he sighs, giving in, and you thank the alcohol has made him less stubborn, “fine.”

you pulled up to topper’s house, the porch light on and inviting. you speak up after the silent drive there, “um—are you sure you want to spend the night at topper’s? we can always go back if you want” he shakes his head, turning towards you. “no, i’m sick of your shit, y/n. always treatin’ me like I can’t take care of myself. guess what,” he points at himself, “I can take care of my own shit, okay? I don’t need you,” he rushes out of the car, stumbling up the porch stairs, disappearing behind the house door.

you stay there for a couple of moments, sniffling. during the drive back to the camerons’—yes, you were staying the night, you needed to take care of rafe for when he was hungover—you reflected on your relationship with him. how one day he’d treat you like you were his queen, the next he’d treat you like you were dirt. you can’t stop your feelings, no matter how hard you tried to repress them, they always end up coming out. you know you don’t deserve this. you deserve someone who actually loves you, not someone who’s using you. but…rafe…you can’t imagine being with someone who’s not him. that night, you lay down on his bed, fantasizing the perfect life with rafe, waiting for him to come back tomorrow morning.

you swallow, telling yourself you’d be fine being with him, being in this arrangement. even if he’ll never love you back, you’d let him break your heart over and over again.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt

[ohmyrashi]

story time!! 💛

so today i had a plan to get a haircut at 12:30 and then meet someone at a department store at 3:00. the haircut only took about 20 mins so i was left with almost two hours to kill.

used the bathroom in the hair salon, then went to a nearby restaurant to grab lunch. ordered a diet coke and ended up finishing it pretty quick bc it was rly hot out today and i was thirsty from the walk. waitress brought me a refill without even asking and i ended up finishing that too.

still had like half an hour to kill, ended up going to a cafe to read my book. ordered a 16 oz iced tea, finished about half of it and took the rest with me to the car when it was time to head out. and, i cannot emphasize enough, i WENT TO THE BATHROOM at the cafe before i left!! i'm no fool!! i've been an omo lover long enough to know what two sodas and an iced tea were gonna do to my bladder!! but i wasn't planning on holding or anything so i figured i'd be safe and go like a responsible adult!!

except i think that the bulk of the liquid hadn't hit me yet, or maybe my bladder is still sensitive from the other night, because almost as soon as i got in my car, i was needing to pee again.

and y'all. it got SO bad so ridiculously fast. and it was a 30 minute drive 😭

by like 7 minutes in my bladder was achingly full, and the pressure just kept getting more and more acute until i was shifting around and making little noises of discomfort in my throat at red lights. the whole drive was through residential neighborhoods and on the highway, nowhere convenient to stop. and anyways, it was a short enough drive that i would have felt silly stopping on the way. but it was getting hard to think about anything than how swollen and heavy my bladder felt in my abdomen and how much i wanted to empty it. (for the record, i was still able to drive safely, if it was so bad that i couldn't i would have pulled over. don't distracted drive for any reason kids)

ofc this was all also super fucking hot, bc as much fun as getting desperate on purpose is there's really nothing like when it happens organically, and in a situation where you can't relieve yourself.

made it to the store, parked in the parking lot, speed walked inside. now as i mentioned, this is a department store, which means it is huge and has multiple levels. looked around and didn't see signs for a bathroom anywhere. bladder absolutely bursting.

looked frantically for an associate, finally spotted one folding clothes, hurried over and asked politely where the bathroom was. next floor, in the far corner. so far away. help

found the escalator, walked up it, started looking around for the bathroom, no sign of it anywhere!! i felt like i was having a pee dream, stuck searching through this huge store for a toilet with my bladder about to explode!

found ANOTHER associate, asked AGAIN where the bathroom was, and i think there was a certain tone in my voice/look on my face/tension in my posture cause she started giving me directions and then was just like "--you know what, i'll walk you there" 😳🙈

FINALLY made it to a stall, didn't bother locking the door, danced and gasped while i got my shorts down, and thundered Niagara Falls out into the toilet 😩🥰😮‍💨

[itsnotsunnyy]

ghosts of us

pairing: jacob black x female!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: they were building forever, until fate rewrote the ending. now she walks with memories, and he walks with someone new, but some ghosts never leave, especially the ones we loved the most.

content: parallel grief, angst, lost love, secondhand heartbreak...

a/n: this took the longest freaking time to write, but i finally feel like i did justice to the lyrics of ‘two ghosts’, which holds such a special place in my heart—especially knowing harry wrote it back when one direction was still a thing. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy <3

i still sleep on the left side of the bed. 

you haven’t been here in months, but the habit stuck, like everything else you left behind. your hoodie is still draped over my desk chair, half-folded the way you always did. the scent is fading, pine, smoke, your shampoo, but i can still find it if i try hard enough. 

i try too often. 

it’s strange how fast everything can fall apart, no warning, no goodbye. just a new name whispered in the forest and a silence so loud it split me in two. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

we met when i was seventeen and angry at everything. 

my mom sent me to forks to “cool down.” i had just dropped out of my first real job, dyed my hair blue out of spite, and started writing terrible poetry in the margins of my sketchbook. forks was supposed to be temporary. 

you weren´t. 

you were just… there. warm and loud and too good at fixing things. you teased me the first time we met, i was standing in the rain, trying to light a cigarette, failing miserably. 

“you know,” you said, leaning against your truck, “that’s not going to work in this weather.” 

i flipped you off and you laughed. 

the next day, i found a box of waterproof matches in the mailbox with a note: 

just in case you’re still trying to rebel. — j 

i kept them, even after i quit smoking. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

we fell into something fast. wild. consuming. 

you’d pick me up in the middle of the night just to drive until the sky turned pink. we’d lie in the bed of your truck, counting stars, not saying much. i loved that about you—you weren’t afraid of quiet. 

you let me draw you once. i made you sit still for an hour. you hated it. 

“i look too serious,” you said when i showed you the sketch. 

“you are serious.” 

you raised an eyebrow. “do i seem serious when i’m doing this?” and then you tickled me until i cried laughing. 

i taped that drawing to my wall. it stayed there long after you stopped showing up at my door. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

we were going to move in together. that’s the part i can’t let go 

it wasn’t a maybe. it wasn’t some distant dream we threw around on sleepless nights. we had a lease printed, boxes labeled, a list of what we’d take and what we’d leave behind. 

you wanted to be closer to the rez but far enough that you didn’t feel trapped. you said, “i just want space to be me, not the alpha, not the wolf... just jacob.” and i told you i’d follow you anywhere. 

i meant it. 

the night before everything changed, you kissed my forehead and said, “we’re almost there.” 

you didn’t look like a man on the edge of vanishing. 

you looked like mine.  

i thought we had time. 

i thought we had forever. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

leah warned me. she didn’t say it directly, but her eyes carried stories she never told. she’d catch you looking at me like i hung the stars and then look away like it hurt to breathe. 

one night, she finally broke. we were sitting on my porch, her legs curled under her, the beer in her hand untouched. 

“i know what it feels like,” she said after a long pause. “i loved sam. i still do, sometimes.” 

my stomach dropped. 

“emily,” i whispered. 

she nodded. “he didn’t choose it. neither did jacob. doesn’t matter, though. the result’s the same.” 

“did it ever stop hurting?” i asked. 

she shook her head. “no. but you get used to the weight.” 

after that we saw each other quite often. drawn to the same ache. 

two ghosts. 

we’d sit in silence, backs to the wind, hearts broken in parallel. 

we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me. 

i never knew how true that line could feel until then. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

before her, we had everything. 

lazy afternoons tangled in bedsheets, walks through the woods where you’d shift mid-laugh just to make me scream, bonfires where you kept your hand on my waist like a promise. 

i remember how you’d trace shapes into my skin when you couldn’t sleep, mumbling things like “you’re it for me” and “no imprint, just choice.” 

choice. 

what a fragile, stupid word. 

i believed it. 

you did too. 

until she opened her eyes and the world rewrote itself. 

when you told me, your voice cracked. 

“i didn’t want this,” you said. “i didn’t ask for it.” 

but you still walked away, you still looked at me like i was suddenly something less. like she made you whole in a way i never could. 

“what am i supposed to do with this?” i asked. 

you didn’t answer. you just left. 

 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

my room is still full of you. your sweatshirt in the drawer. your handwriting on a note stuck to my mirror. 

you talk in your sleep. it’s cute. — j 

i never took it down. i think part of me hoped you’d come back, not because of the imprint. not because you had to, but because you wanted to. 

leah held me through the first night. she didn’t say much. didn’t need to. grief doesn’t always need words, it just needs someone to bleed with. 

“i hated emily for years,” she whispered once. “not because she took him. but because she didn’t have to lose anything to get him.” 

i didn’t hate renesmee. i couldn’t. she was a child. she didn’t choose this any more than you did, but that didn’t make me feel any less replaceable, any less forgotten. 

some days i wake up thinking it was a dream. that if i roll over fast enough, you’ll be there, smirking like always, eyes soft with sleep, arms ready to pull me close, but it’s just cold sheets and the echo of your breathing that lives in my memory. 

i should’ve burned the hoodie. 

i should’ve screamed, but all i did was cry. silent, shaking and small. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

leah and i started running together. not like the pack, just... human, just girls trying to outrun a storm that never ends. she tells me stories sometimes, about sam, about what she thought forever meant. 

i think she sees you in my eyes the way i see him in hers. two ghosts, both alive, both taken. 

sometimes we laugh about it. most days, we don’t. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

i saw you again last week. 

you were walking with her, the imprint. she had her hand in yours, tiny and glowing like the sun. you looked tired, older, but peaceful. 

you didn’t see me, or maybe you did and looked away. i wanted to hate you in that moment. to spit fire, curse your name and scream at the universe for taking everything i had and turning it into this, but instead, i walked away. because that’s what we do, the ones left behind. we walk away and carry what you forgot. 

you used to say i reminded you of the ocean. not just because of the way i moved, but because i was always changing, pulling you in, dragging you under, filling you with something vast and unnamable. you said you could drown in me and still want more. 

did you mean it? or was that just the boy in you talking, the one who didn’t know fate had other plans? 

sometimes i dream of starting over. a new city, new name, new version of me that doesn’t flinch at the word “wolf” or ache when someone mentions forks. but then, leah calls, and we sit in silence, connected by wounds only we understand. and i remember— we survived, not because we were strong, but because we had to be. 

we don’t get closure. not really. we just learn to carry the quiet, so that’s what i do. i carry you. every kiss, every fight, every whispered plan for a future that’ll never come. you were my almost. my almost forever, my almost home and maybe that’s all we ever get to be. almost. 

you didn’t choose it, but i would’ve chosen you. every time. even now. especially now. 

but now? now we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me.