#should i go back and try to think of more to say about it or no'
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As if you care | Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: JJ and Rafe crash at the finish line of the Enduro Race. Just because you and Rafe aren't together anymore doesn't mean you weren't worried about his safety.
A/N: Hope you enjoy! I promise I proof read the best I could with a 13 month old running around getting into everything 😅
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912
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The beach was packed with onlookers, ready to watch the 2024 Enduro race and see who would take champion this year. Your feet dug in the hot sand as you made it through the crowd to the sideline where the rest of the Pogues were. JJ would be racing again this year hoping to turn his luck around and win this year.
You could see across the track the kooks gathering around. One in particular catching your eye dressed like he was ready to race. He was never one to participate in these types of things so seeing him there was a shock.
"Rafe's here racing?" You ask Sarah, watching as Rafe pushes his bike to the starting line, beside the other racers.
She too was confused by his participation, shrugging, "I guess so."
Shielding your eyes from the hot sun, you can see Rafe has noticed you, giving you a brief nod of acknowledgment before swinging his leg over the bike to mount it.
"Shit," Sarah says, "Why the hell is he racing?" She's immediately stomping through the sand toward John B where he too is pushing his bike to the starting line next to JJ.
You followed Sarah, heading for JJ.
"You here to give me a good luck kiss?" JJ teases you with a kissy face, leaning close to you, as Sarah leans over to give John B a kiss.
You shove him in the shoulder, laughing, "You wish, Maybank."
He chuckles mounting his bike, sliding his bandana over his head, "No see I think if you kissed me, I'd win."
You rolled your eyes at his flirting, "Try not to get killed out there." You grab his helmet off the back of his bike, handing it to him. You and JJ had grown close after breaking up with Rafe, but it never crossed a friendship line. He was flirty, but both of you knew there wasn't anything there. He knew you still loved Rafe.
"You see your boy is racing today?"
"Yeah," You reply. Before anything else is said, the announcer gives the racers the minute warning. "Be safe out there."
"Oh I'll be so safe," He drags out with a laugh, hand on his heart.
You can't help but laugh at the memory with Pope, heading back toward the sideline with Sarah.
Rafe slides his helmet over his head, starting his engine and revving it a few times. Even behind helmet you can feel his eyes on you. He felt the anger pulsing through his veins as he saw the interaction between you and JJ. He should have known he would lose you and you'd moved on by now. It only pissed him off more that it was JJ.
You and Rafe had dated for a year before you ended it. He'd started hanging around the wrong crowd, drugs and alcohol making him a changed man. He wasn't the Rafe you fell in love with and you'd tried everything to get him to stop, get help and go to rehab but he'd blown up, destroying your shared apartment in anger; broken furniture, glass littering the floor, holes in the wall. It left you terrified and you gave him the ultimatum. Get help or you were leaving him. Unfortunately, the group had their nails dug deep in him and he wasn't ready to give up his way of life yet. You'd packed up everything you owned from the apartment that night with the help of the Pogues and hadn't looked back.
It didn't mean you didn't care for Rafe. or that you ever stopped loving him. There was no way you could live like that with him and Rafe didn't want the help. You had to admit, you could tell he looked healthier there on the beach, nothing like he did when you left 6 months previous. He'd shaved his hair, his skin was tan and those dark circles under his eyes were gone.
Soon the race began, sand flying through the air. The announcers had people set through the track to see where the racers stood in standings.
At the beginning, Rafe was first, JJ falling behind. As they come around the last curve, JJ jumped the sand dune, putting him in first place. Rafe and JJ went neck and neck, bumping into each other.
They both recovered but Rafe went for him again, bumping his tire and sending both of them flying through the air, landing hard in the sand.
As the race concludes, Topper taking first, everyone stormed the track, you immediately went to JJ with the Pogues.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" JJ starts toward Rafe.
"Get use to it, pogue." He shakes the sand off his arms.
JJ lunges for Rafe and Rafe lunges for JJ, but you quickly jump between them, "Hey! Hey both of you stop it!" pushing them back by their chests,
"You could have killed each other! are you fucking crazy!" You spit out to Rafe of anger and worry for the both of them.
"As if you care." Rafe pushes your hand off his chest, his shoulder bumping into you as he pushes past you before storming through the crowd.
You make sure JJ's ok, before following after Rafe. "Rafe!" Your legs burn as they dig into the sand, his long legs making it hard for you to catch up.
He doesn't acknowledge you, unzipping his suit to his waist as he nears his truck.
"Rafe!" You finally catch up to him at his truck, grabbing his arm to will him to face you, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
He faces you, his face red with anger, "I know I fucked up alright, but did you really have to go for Maybank?" He lets his trucks tailgate down to throw his suit and boots in the back. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Just go back to your boyfriend. I'll apologize later when I'm calm."
The slam of the tailgate makes you jump, but you recover, grabbing his arm, "JJ is not my boyfriend! You don't get to pull this bullshit. Not after all the shit you put me through. You seriously could have killed both of you! That was reckless; a stupid move."
He can see your angry and if he's not mistaken, even a little scared, "Why do you care about my safety anyways? It's not like we're together."
"I didn't stop caring for you Rafe. I just didn't deserve the way you were treating me and I left. You needed help and you wouldn't accept it. What was I suppose to do? Stay with you while you continued to wreck our relationship and your life? You destroyed our apartment; you broke furniture. put holes in the walls. I was terrified."
He lets his back hit the side of his truck, running a hand over his head as he looks down at the ground, embarrassed he let his feelings get the best of him. "You're right, I shouldn't have done what I did. Today or that night. I was in deep with that group and I should have got out sooner. You did the right thing leaving." He finally wills himself to look at you. His eyes are sad, "As much as it broke my heart to see you leave, you did the right thing. I wasn't in a good head space and honestly I don't know what I would have done to you. I'm sorry I even put you through what I did. You didn't deserve it."
"I forgive you," You lay your hand on his arm, "I just wanted my Rafe back." You say, tears threatening to spill over.
Rafe wipes a tear away with his knuckle, "I'm here."
You lean into his touch, eyes closing in the comfort of his touch. You missed him.
Soon, his hands are tugging you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and he plants a kiss against your hair. You can feel your entire body relax into his. Your hands move up his back, palms open against his shoulder blades.
"God, I don't deserve you." He says into your hair, giving you a tighter squeeze. He needed this comfort just as much as you did.
He's the first to pull away from you, hands sliding to your cheeks, "I've missed you."
You place your hand over his, bringing his hand to your lips, and kissing his palm, "I've missed you too."
~
The two of you start heading back to the beach, deciding you both needed the extra time together. Everything finally felt right in the world. Your hand in his as your feet dig into the sand, the orange of the sun dancing against the ocean's waves as it sets against the ocean's horizon.
"I can see you still let your emotions get the better of you."
He chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you toward him, "When it comes to you, I do." He says before kissing the top of your head.
I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated! x
#obx imagines#outer banks imagines#obx fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fanfics#outer banks imagine#obx fanfics#obx fanfic#obx imagine#rafe cameron x#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x female!reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfics#rafe cameron fanfic
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Same for both. The thing with explaining the reasons with an apology for me is part of the “I recognize how this action was wrong and how I ended up doing this thing that hurt you. I will be making an effort to stop this behavior. I hope you feel okay calling me out on it going forward. I want to assure you that I am aware of what I did, why I did it, that I am going to be working on it, that this hurt you, and that I’m sorry I did this.”
To me the reasons and why it happened shows that they understand and how likely they are to keep doing the same things or if thy ran it, that kind of thing. I’ve had someone who was basically overdosing on Xanax day spent the most horrible shit to me, hitting every insecurity I had about our friendship and after the fact *not* apologize and just said something like “I didn’t reply mean it, I just said crazy shit because I was prescribed a higher dose of Xanax than a person should be.”
Like… okay, I get that… and… it would mean something if you said “I’m sorry, I know it hurt you and I said a lot of things I knew would hurt most. I didn’t know I was prescribed higher dose than I should’ve been until recently and it really fucked with my head in a way that I wasn’t myself.” Instead, I wasn’t sure if she actually meant what she said looking back or if she’d do it again only without her mind being fucked up.
She gave the reason without the apology which made it an excuse and a “so you can’t be upset with anything I said” when she could scroll back and see exactly the things she said to me even if she didn’t quite remember. However, with an apology, I would be able to believe she didn’t mean it and was in a state of mind where she was actively looking to be as hurtful as possible rather than actually believing hat she said. It’s kind of like how some people go turn out to be suicidal try to make everyone around them hate them before going through with it under the notion it’d “hurt less” when it happens. I think of one or two popular youtubers who did exactly that, posting outrageous bigoted shit before disappearing and after hearing they killed themselves, it clicked that’s what they were doing.
As for the telling a story for how thy relate (as I did above actually lol) it’s like… “listen here’s a thing I went through… to me it sounds like what you’re going through, so I hope what I did to get through it helps or if talking to someone who might understand better makes you feel okay talking about this.”
It’s like… it adds some weight or legitimacy to what the person you’re talking to is saying for me. I’d be more likely to take their advice or reflect on how I handle or perceive it vs how they might have. When someone isn’t grasping at all what you’re saying, it turns into defending why you’re feeling and going through rather than being able to just… talk about it.
Idk, been thinking on the nuance of this for a while. I like reasons, I like getting an idea on if this will happen again or not. There’s just a lot of “depends on the person/situation” tho.
#apologies explanations and reasons#interesting stuff#it doesn’t even have to be lengthy#at work I’ve apologized for shit#and as a follow up to days ago conversations#just saying ‘I’ve thought about it had something explained to me I completely forgot this thing we don’t normally do you were right”#and they do say “eh you don ave to apologize”#but I still want to own that i was wrong rather than have them think I’ll never consider why they say seriously
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮
i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:
-
Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side.
“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband.
“I am,” he insists.
“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.”
“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically.
“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”
“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them.
“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter.
“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.”
“Six months,” Maddie states.
Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.”
Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.”
“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.”
Evan huffs, leaning against the counter.
“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.”
“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?”
Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly.
“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?”
“I- I thought- I mean we-..”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?”
“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues.
Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?”
Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack.
After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it.
“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down.
“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him.
“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains.
“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him.
“The who?” “Huh?”
Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.”
“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects.
“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.”
“So?” Evan asks.
“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.”
Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall.
“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.”
“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp.
“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..”
“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island.
Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again.
“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.”
Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter.
“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.”
He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.”
“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.”
He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy.
“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look.
“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?”
Evan stares down at the counter again.
“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek.
“Call him.”
. . .
Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding.
So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens.
“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this.
“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”
Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course.
“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down.
“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.”
“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods.
“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.”
“Buck-..”
“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable.
“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath.
Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.”
“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..”
“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.”
“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces.
Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.”
Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter.
“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.”
Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words.
“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.”
Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.”
Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.”
Tommy nods.
“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.”
Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement.
“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.”
Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?”
“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.”
The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” Evan asks him.
Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.”
Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it.
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hellooo I just want to say that I like your blog, I really like your writing style🫶🏻🫶🏻 AND
what do you think about Vernon finding the reader's twitter spam account? at first, without saying anything, he follows her from a fake account and learns her fetishes and things like that. then he can't hold back and teasing the reader because of this situation and does all the things she reposts, all she wants and imagines(I honestly can't decide whether they will be friends or lovers and I leave it to you)
thank you very much in advance🩷🩷🩷🩷
when vernon finds out about your freaky tweets
WARNINGS: smut, face slapping, BIG DICK!VERNON, cock riding, mentions of hair pulling, dirty talk, choking.
it starts innocently enough; you’ve got your little spam account, this place where you post anything that comes to mind without a second thought. it’s private, anonymous—you’re safe, or so you think. until one day, you start noticing a new follower, someone with zero posts and a random handle, lurking in the notifications. you brush it off, figuring it’s just some bot. but vernon… well, vernon's been piecing things together. and one night, after reading one of your latest posts—something so NASTY that practically burned his screen—he decides he can't just pretend he hasn’t seen it. so he waits until you’re in the living room next saturday, all comfortable, maybe a little too comfortable. you look up, seeing him standing there with that little frown he gets when he's too stressed to understand something, a raised eyebrow, and his phone in his hand.
“so… ‘i just want him to hold me down and—’” he reads aloud, and you feel everything in you freeze up as he raises an eyebrow at you. “‘then pull my hair back so i can see his face… maybe, idk, slap me around a little?’ really, y/n?”
you scramble, trying to play it cool “vernon—wait, why—where’d you see that?”
“oh, i dunno. i’ve been following this account for a while. figured i’d wait until you posted something really crazy before bringing it up.”
you stammer, face going hot. “i—you didn’t have to read it out loud like that, jesus.”
“oh, come on,” he says, leaning in, crowding your space just enough to make you feel cornered “you can post it, but i can’t say it?”
you swallow hard “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d see it.”
“didn’t think i’d find out?” he echoes, voice dropping a little. “you know, all this time, i’ve been seeing these little things you like. i didn’t say anything because i thought you’d be embarrassed. but now…” he smirks, leaning back with a sigh, watching you. “now i think maybe i should give you some of what you’re so clearly craving.”
“vernon,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like he’s imagining every filthy thing you’ve ever posted.
he smirks, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh, don’t go all shy on me now. i’ve read what you want. all of it. let’s start with the basics, huh?” his hand trails down, tipping your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “you wanna ride me? why didn’t you just say so?”
you feel your heart pounding as he pulls you closer, he's practically purring as he goes, “or that other thing you posted—what was it? something about choking you?” he wraps his hand lightly around your throat, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin as he watches your reaction. “like this?”
you almost cant nod, you're melting, your breath coming short as he tightens his grip just enough to make you feel it “so pretty when you’re horny,” he murmurs, fingers pressing just a little more.
and when you shake your head, he grins, pulling you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him as his hands settle on your hips “guess i’ve gotta make up for all those little fantasies you’ve been hiding, huh?”
“you sure you can handle it?” he whispers, leaning in, lips brushing against your neck. “’cause i don’t think you really knew what you were asking for when you posted all that.”
but you nod, he tilts your head up, lips brushing over yours, and you feel his hand come up, palm grazing over your cheek before he slaps you—just a little, just enough to make you gasp. he chuckles when you moan, liquefying on his lap, fingers tilting your face back to him.
[...]
he’s already watching you with a azy smirk, eyes rolling sliighty as you sink down onto him, your thighs trembling as you struggle to take all of him in. and god, he’s big. you knew he would be—you’d guessed it a dozen times in all those reckless tweets, wondering just how good it’d feel, but feeling it now, it’s like all that teasing turned on you, stretching you almost too much, and every inch you take feels like a challenge.
“aww, look at you,” he coos, his hands resting on your hips, fingers rubbing little circles into your skin as you try to ease down, taking him deeper, even though it’s making your breath catch, making you whimper and shake. “what happened, baby? i thought you said you could handle it.”
you bite your lip, cheeks burning, and he chuckles, leaning in closer, voice low and teasing. “or maybe you just wanted me to be big so you could talk all that shit on your little account,” he murmurs, running his thumb over your lip. “all those tweets you made, talking about wanting me to be, what—eight, nine inches?” he grins, watching the way you flush, the way your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. “think you got what you wished for, hm?”
“shut up,” you manage to whisper, but it’s so breathless, your body clenching around him, and he laughs, hands guiding you down just a bit further, his hips lifting just a little to meet you, that makes you gasp, makes you try to pull back, but he keeps you there, fingers firm on your hips.
“no, no, let’s see you take it,” he whispers, voice rough with that soft teasing. “come on, baby. don’t tell me this is too much. you wanted all of it, right?”
you nod, trying to adjust, but it’s almost too much fr, too thick, too deep, and he watches you with those hooded eyes, savoring every single whimper you make. “it’s okay,” he says softly, almost soothing as he leans up to kiss you, but you can hear that cocky lilt in his tone. “you’re doing so good. even if you can’t take all of it… god, you’re trying, huh?”
and he’s right there, brushing his lips over your cheek, murmuring sweet, filthy encouragements into your ear as you sink down a little more, taking just a bit more of him, even though your body’s practically begging for a break. “that’s it… there you go. so good, baby. i’m impressed,” he purrs, hands trailing up your back. “i didn’t think you’d take even this much.”
every time you pause, every time your breath catches, he’s right there, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you, helping you ride him “guess you really wanted to know..” he murmurs, grinning as he watches you struggle, your head falling back as you finally take just a little more, his hands pulling you down hard against him until you can feel every inch of him.
“there it is… that’s my girl,” he whispers, in asatisfied rasp, his eyes dark as he watches you ride him, just as you’d dreamed about, exactly as you’d hoped—only now it’s even better.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#vernon smut#vernon fic#vernon imagines#vernon x reader#vernon x you#vernon x oc#hansol smut#hansol imagines#hansol fanfic#hansol fic#vernon seventeen
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Throne
CW: oral (f) and fingers
You and Spencer are friends who attended at party for a mutual friend and find you have an interesting shared book fantasy.
It had been several hours since you’d arrived at the party for a mutual friend. Reid had been cautiously watching you as you talked to everyone and gave them a small amount of your time. Every so often your gazes would meet and you’d exchange a smile from a distance. Although you’d greeted him when he walked in, you’d been rushed away my another friend for some kind of emergency. Every guy you talked to made Reid anxious. He hated the idea of you walking out of this place with someone else. Anyone else but him. Finally you made your way over to him, sitting down beside him and smiling.
“Welcome back”. Spencer said as you took a sip of your drink.
“Thanks. It’s been very hectic. You’d think for a going away party it would be more fun. Instead I’m chasing down my drunk friends.” You sighed.
“Yeah, I think I saw one of my drunk friends fall off the bar earlier.” He laughed.
“I saw that. I think we’re the only two here that aren’t drinking.”
“I like to be in control of myself. I drink occasionally but in this atmosphere I don’t think it’s wise.”
“I agree. To much going on and I’m already over stimulated”
“Glad I’m not the only one.” He nodded.
You tucked your hair behind your ears and shifted closer to him. “I’m really happy you came.”
Spencer’s eyes lit up, “I’m glad too. I’ll admit I was on the fence until I heard you’d be coming too.”
“Really?”
He nodded, “Yeah. This isn’t my thing. Bars. Or people.”
“I would much rather be at home reading. I hate all this.” You shrugged.
“Oh, that’s reminds me I started reading this book about ancient erotica and I think -“
At that you held up your hand to stop him,“Did you just say erotica?”
Spencer nodded, “Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking of pornography. It’s rather tasteful compared to today’s idea of erotica. I’ve read a few of what is considered erotic today and I think it’s just porn on paper.”
You stared at him for a long moment. His brown eyes stared back anticipating your response.
“Porn on paper is called smut now.” You smirked.
“Yes, and it is just sexually charged writing. Ancient erotica is art. Paintings and images that are tastefully done.” Reid explained.
“I guess my bookshelf is filled with porn then.” You laughed softly.
“You read…smut?” He bit his lip.
Suddenly you felt hot. Did the temperature go up? You’d just admitted you had read spicy books.
“I-wel-…I mean…I have other kinds of books too.” You stammered. “I have biographies and nonfiction also. Fantasy.”
Spencer was enjoying watching you squirm. You were flustered now. He could see trying to save whatever semblance of a normal conversation there was left.
“Fantasy? What kind of fantasy?” He asked.
“No sexual fantasy…I have Fourth Wing. Have you read it?”
“Dragons and thunder…I have read it and its sequel.” Reid nodded. “But may I ask…how you felt about the throne scene?”
He was torturing you now. He watched as your eyes went wide and your breathing halted just enough to notice.
“I…uh…Spence…you’re doing this on purpose.” You said softly.
“Am I? I’m just curious.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”
“Very…” He nodded.
He watched you bite your lip. The conversation had taken a sharp turn and now you were staring at each other, both quiet. You wished you knew what he was thinking about.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer finally asked.
“Yes”. You agreed.
He stood and held out his hand for you. You took it and slipped out of your seat, following him out the door. You felt anxious as you walked out into the cold air, cautiously looking up at him.
“Did you drive?” He asked, looking back.
“No…I came with (your mutual friend’s name).”
“You should probably tell her you’re leaving.” Spencer smirked.
“I can text her.” You blushed a little as you arrived at Spencer’s car.
You turned to face him as he opened the door for you. It was only now that you realized he was so much taller than you. All the time working with him at the university and you’d never noticed. He stepped closer and slid a hand around your waist.
“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.
Your brained seemed to short circuit, unable to form words, so you nodded almost too enthusiastically. Spencer leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you gently. The feel of his mouth on yours was dizzying. You weren’t drunk but you felt like it. He pulled you a little closer and you welcomed the feel of his body. After a few long moments he pulled back leaving you aching his touch. He gazed at you, stroking your cheek gently.
“Still want to go home with me?” He asked.
“Yes” Was all you could managed, still seeing stars.
Spencer helped you in the car before closing the door and running to the other side. You watched him get in and start the car.
“Don’t forget to text (your friend’s name).”
“Oh, right.” You reached for your phone and sent a quick text letting them know you’d found a ride.
They sent a reply with eggplant emoji’s and water droplets. Thank God it was dark because your cheeks were red at the idea of them knowing who you’d left with. The man you’d confided in her to having a crush on from the minute he’d walked into your life. As he drove you pulled your sleeves over your hands and fidgeted with them anxiously. You couldn’t have possibly expected him to not notice. He reached over and laced his fingers with yours.
“You play with your clothes when you’re nervous.” Spencer said, glancing at your hands.
Of course he’d noticed. The many meetings you’d sat in together, the times you’d been in the elevator together alone, the time he’d come to you asking for your opinion on a case, he’d seen it every time he was near you. You looked up as you felt the car slow to a stop. He put the car in park and you both sat for a moment. Finally your eyes met his. He gave you a soft smile.
“Do you still want to come inside?” Spencer asked.
“I do.” You answered.
He nodded and got out of the car, coming around to open your door and helped you out. Her nerves were started to become more noticeable. You didn’t do this. You never went home with guys. Especially not guys you worked with. Especially not anyone with an IQ of 187 and read books on ancient erotica. Spencer took your hand and led you into his building. Once in the elevator you chewed at your lip, your fingers linked with his as he pressed the button to his floor.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, reaching up to brush your hair behind your ear.
“Spence…you need checking on me. I’m fine. I’m sure. I promise.” You said, standing on your toes to kiss him.
He cupped your neck, returning the kiss. He was gentle and soft. You could only hope he maintained that once you were in his apartment. The elevator dings upon arriving at his floor. He pulled away reluctantly and you stepped off, making your way to his front door.
“I’m slightly surprised we aren’t stumbling down your hallway, too impatient to get inside.” You joked.
Spencer slid his key in the door, “We could have been but you deserve more respect than me just trying to fuck you.”
Your jaw dropped, surprised. “Spencer Reid said fuck!” You smirked.
“I’ve been known to swear on occasion.” He replied, letting you inside.
You stepped inside the apartment, looking around. He closed the door and locked it.
“So…what now?” He asked, stepping closer to you.
“Spence…we both know what’s going to happen…but can we pretend for five seconds that you’re not thinking about undressing me and be making obscene sounds shortly thereafter?” You asked, taking his hand.
“Well now that you’ve put that image in my head…it’s going to be hard not to.” He smirked.
“You mentioned you had books. I want to see the collection.”
“The lady gets what the lady wants.” He replied, leading you to his bookshelf.
It seemed to overflow with classic literature in many languages. You looked at the titles, a few familiar and many you’d never seen or heard of. Then your eyes caught a familiar gold cover. You smirked and pulled out Fourth Wing.
“You really did read it.” You smirked.
“You and Penelope wouldn’t shut up about it, I was curious what had you so worked up. It’s not my thing but it peaked my interest.” He replied. “Especially chapter 48 in Iron Flame.”
You froze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He leaned in close, his breath hot on your skin.
“My house. My chair. My woman.” He whispered.
You looked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. You had forgotten he’d mentioned the throne room scene.
“You…um…you know the exact chapter.” You stammered.
He smirked down at you. “Of course I do. You never told me how you felt about it.”
“I mean…obviously it’s hot.” You turned to face him. “What woman doesn’t want a man worshipping her on his knees on a throne.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”
“Do you have a throne?” You asked.
“Not quite a throne, but I definitely have a chair we can pretend is a thrown.”
You licked your lips as you felt your pulse rising. You felt hot again. You knew why you’d come to his apartment and now was the time you stopped pretending it was innocent.
“Show me.”
Spencer gave a soft smile and led you to his room. It was neat, bed made and everything orderly. Your eyes fell upon a gorgeous leather chair near the window. It was the perfect reading chair, but tonight it was going to be a throne for him to worship you on. He walked you over and you admired it. You could see it was tall enough that your feet might dangle if you sat down, and the leather was soft. God forbid you dig your nails into it and mark the leather.
“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from behind you.
You felt his hands sliding up your arms, stroking your biceps gently. His breath was hot on your neck as you leaned back into him.
“Yes.” You said, eyes closing when he kissed your neck.
“Then sit down.”
You swallowed anxiously, turning to face him before sitting down. You could have sworn his eyes darkened just a bit as he moved to the floor. Surprisingly the chair was the perfect height for you to be face to face. You pulled him against you and kissed him. His hands ran through your hair and down your shoulders. You knew exactly want was coming. He pulled away and removed your shoes. As his hands moved to your jeans you feel your pulse racing and your breathing quicken. He pulls you to the edge of the chair and tugs them down your legs. The air conditioning sends goosebumps over your skin as Spencer looks up at you. His eyes met yours and you forgot to breathe. He didn’t look away as you placed kisses on your legs, creeping higher and higher up your thigh.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He said, stroking your opposite thigh. “God, you’re perfect.”
You bit your lip, having trouble forming words. All you wanted was for him to devour and absolutely worship you. His hand slid over your hips and to the top of your underwear. The second they were gone you knew you’d never be able to recover. You ached for him. Slowly he slid them down and you watched him carefully. Spencer’s eyes darkened even more at the sight of you bare before him. He could see the moisture pooling at your core and he was instantly rock hard.
“Last time…you want this?” He asked.
“Last time, yes.” You panted, “Please, God, just touch me.”
Begging wasn’t something you’d thought you’d be doing but you were desperate. He nodded, moving one leg to sit over the arm of the chair and the other over his shoulder. You nearly came as his tongue slid through your wet folds. You let out a loud gasp, your head falling back against the back of the chair. He swirled around your clit, toying with it gently.
“Spencer, fuck!” You moaned, nails digging into the leather.
He smiled as he continued his actions, lapping up your juices. His hands held you firmly in place and you squirmed under his.
“Don’t stop, please.” You whimpered.
Spencer watched you coming undone, enjoying every second of it. Watching your breathing catch when he licked your clit. You moaned even louder when he slid a finger into you. It was nearly enough to finish you. Your hand moved to his hair and you tugged at it, causing him to groan against you. The vibrations only added to the pleasure. He added another finger, pushing you closer to the edge.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You panted, so close to cumming.
Spencer felt you clench around his fingers and he moved them faster. His tongue massaged your delicate folds until finally you couldnt hold on.
“Spence, oh, fuck…” You whimpered before coming undone.
He smiled, working you through it. Finally you could breathe again and you looked down at him. He was just watching you, stroking your thigh gently.
“You okay?” He asked.
“More than okay.” You blushed as you sat up.
“How was it?”
“It rivaled all the fantasies I had about being worshipped in a thrown”. You admitted.
#doctor reid#spencer reid fanfiction#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#crimnal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#dr reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader smut
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Sun + Moon Combos Hot Takes
Sun in libra Moon in Pisces: PEOPLE PLEASERS! No seriously though these people try their best to charm the pants out of anyone (even ppl they don’t like) they aren’t opposed to lying to impress others as well. These people lie A LOT. They usually lie to appear more interesting to others and come up with some pretty extravagant lies lol. It’s pretty rare these people ever feel comfortable being themselves they are usually always mirroring those around them. These people also live and breathe relationships. They love the idea of love and can go thru a number of partners before really committing (isn’t the most loyal sun moon combo).
Gemini sun Cancer moons: this can be a very emotionally unstable combo. I notice people with this combo aren’t really the most ambitious of people. Most stay with their parents longer than most as well. Their sun sign craves change and their moon craves safety so these people can have a constant battle in their heads of if they should experience new things or stay in their comfort zone. This can cause them to stay stuck in situations and environments that they should’ve grown out of longer than necessary. if theirs no big earth influence it can be very hard to ground your emotions. VERY BIPOLAR. They are also more homebodies and quieter compared to most Geminis.
Scorpio sun Aqua moon: an enigma fr. I’ve only met one person with this combo usually cuz it’s EXTREMELY hard to actually get to know these people. They have the same vibe as a shadow. Just very lowkey, in the background. Usually these people despise the spotlight but when they actually make themselves known they are so MAGNETIC. Usually have very interesting/eccentric personalities under all that mystery. They are lowkey the definition of “not like other girls” these people also give a sorta vampire vibe to them idk how to explain it.
Cancer Sun Virgo moon: super boring 😴 they are usually very predictable.. like annoyingly predictable to their mannerisms down to the things they say. Usually don’t like to stray far from their comfort zone. They remind me of that one SpongeBob scene where the fish is on repeat going to work coming home eating sleeping and then at the end the wife goes “coming to bed honey” “yes dear”. That’s what I think of when I think about these people😭 very basic taste in clothes and food as well. on a positive note though they are very loyal to the people they love and they’ll do anything for the people they love. Usually really hard workers as well. But overall I find this combo to be very bland 💀 next..
Aries sun cancer moon: these are the adult boss babies of the zodiac sun moon combo. These people get VERY DEFENSIVE over the smallest shit. They don’t really like when people make to many jokes about them or teases them or they will lose their shit. These people can be sensitive about the weirdest shit. Most people don’t expect this cuz they’re usually harsh to others so when others are harsh back they don’t expect such an emotional reaction. They have a lot of emotional resilience however and are way more intuitive than most Aries. These are the least confrontational of the Aries I notice as well. They’re more passive aggressive/manipulative when upset. I notice these people can become really rude and aggressive when other disagree with them as well. They deal with emotions pretty childishly.
Libra sun Gemini Moon: these are the pick me bitches fr. This combo gives dumb blonde energy. These people will flirt with anyone to get out of anything lol. ( it works most of the time) their constant flirting can get them into some trouble sometimes. They have a habit of breaking a lot of hearts from flirting too much 😭 this can be a big yapper combo too. These people sometimes don’t know when to stop talking (especially about others) they LOVE gossip.
Sun in Aries Capricorn Moons: these people give Bully energy imo. They can be incredibly bossy and controlling when they want something done which doesn’t win them many friends. I notice this combo can cause a lack of emotional intelligence, these people will say things super harshly without thinking how it can affect the other person (if they have strong water in the chart however this won’t always be the case). They tend to find weaker personalities to boss around too which I don’t respect, they usually get too sensitive when someone can actually match their boss energy. I may have came off harsh with this one so I’ll say some positives😭 usually these people have amazing ambition and have the ability to make A LOT of money in their lives. Gives big CEO energy. Also this is a jack of all trades combo, they are able to do so many things, very handy.
Leo sun Cancer moon: usually have amazing/ healthy self confidence (makes sense since the sun/moon are both in their home) these people grow up knowing exactly who they are and what they are capable of even from such a young age. These people are actually sooo funny too. Their comedic timing is soooo good. They can however be more of a “loner” than most other Leo’s and have a big love for their family as well. Can have a problem however with putting their talents to action which can lead in wasted talent.
Virgo sun Scorpio Moon: gives Eeore vibes. No really though these people complain about everything lmao. Even if things aren’t going bad they will focus on the most negative shit. Can be extreme pessimists. Can almost be addicted to shitty emotions in a way. On a brighter side these people are usually very magnetic in social situations and can make a good amount of money in their life because of their work ethic and organizational skills. Can attract very toxic people in their lives. It’s like they’re a magnet for toxic people.
Give me some sun+moon combos that you want me to talk about more in the comments 🥰 (last post of this got deleted)
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https://www.tumblr.com/corroded-hellfire/743622480481107968/reading-ayw-things-has-me-thinking-about-eddie-and
I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)
For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/
THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂
Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth
Words: 1.2k
“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”
Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas.
“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter.
“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”
“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.
Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.
“Hey, what is it?” he asks.
“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”
Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about.
“The…scrunch?” he asks.
“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”
By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.
“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”
“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”
“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”
“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”
“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line.
“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away.
“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.
Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.
“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”
“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth.
The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan.
“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”
Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now.
Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you.
“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”
“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.
Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again.
“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.
Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.
“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.
“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles.
“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”
“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”
Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.
“What?”
“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.
A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.
You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness.
“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.
“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.
“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”
“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”
It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#eddie munson imagine#AYW#AYWs#request
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hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space
Thank you for requesting angel!
cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him.
Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking.
“Sirius?”
He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly.
You take a step towards him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.”
“You’re home early,” you note.
Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted.
“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now.
When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.”
Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.”
You feel your eyebrows go up.
“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?”
You nod mutely.
“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.”
“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.”
Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny.
“Baby.”
He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.”
Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him.
Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you.
You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath.
“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.”
“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly.
You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize.
“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.
Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.”
“No, that’s me.”
One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.”
Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.”
You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him.
You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?”
Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.”
You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one.
“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?”
“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.”
“And you weren’t going to say anything?”
“What’d be the point?”
A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?”
You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.”
“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.”
“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.”
“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black angst#sirius black hurt/comfort#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black drabble#sirius black oneshot#sirius black blurb#sirius black one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader#tw past abuse
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[19:51] - choi seungcheol
a/n: as you can tell by now, im down so bad for this man...the amount of fics I've written for him....sickening
check out my masterlist!
"if you don't love me anymore, you can just tell me."
the words tumble out of seungcheol's mouth as if they’ve been sitting on his tongue for hours, maybe even days. his voice is quiet but firm, and it catches you completely off guard. the two of you are sitting together on the couch, the usual comfortable silence between you both now feeling...strained.
you turn to look at him, your eyes widening at the unexpected confession. "what?" you ask, the confusion evident in your voice. you’ve been in a relationship with him for so long that you never expected him to say something like that.
he doesn’t meet your gaze right away. instead, he stares ahead, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you can tell he’s trying to look calm, but there’s a tension in his shoulders and a flicker of doubt in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. it makes your heart twist, and you instinctively reach out to touch his arm.
"cheol..what are you talking about?" you ask softly, your fingers brushing his skin. "why would you even say that?"
he finally turns to face you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen. there’s a sadness there, like he’s been carrying something heavy for a while, unsure of whether he should put it down.
"i just... i don’t know," he says, his voice wavering slightly. "i feel like things have been... different between us lately. like maybe you’re not as into me anymore. and it’s been bothering me, but i didn’t know how to bring it up."
your heart drops at his words, and you immediately pull him closer, your hand on his cheek. "cheol-ah, that’s not true," you say urgently. "i’ve been distracted, busy with work, with life. but i still love you. nothing’s changed."
he sighs, his eyes softening as he leans into your touch. "i don’t know," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. "it just feels like we’ve been drifting apart. and i’m scared. scared that you don’t love me the way you used to."
you shake your head, a lump forming in your throat. how could he think that? how could he even question your feelings after all this time?
"choi seungcheol," you say, your voice firm now, trying to reassure him. "i’m not going anywhere. i love you more than anything. but i don’t always show it in the ways you expect, and maybe that’s where the disconnect is. but i love you. i always have & i always will."
he looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and hesitance. "you still love me?" he asks, as though he needs to hear it again.
"yes," you reply, your heart full of emotion. "i still love you. i always will."
for a moment, he just stares at you, his face slowly breaking into a smile. it’s a small, relieved smile, but it’s the most genuine one you’ve seen from him in days.
"okay," he says, his voice quiet but full of warmth. "i just needed to hear that."
you smile back at him, feeling the weight lift off your chest. "i’m sorry i made you worry," you whisper, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "but i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere."
seungcheol lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "i don’t know what i’d do without you."
you chuckle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "well, don't even think about that then, it won't ever happen."
seungcheol pulls you into a hug, holding you tight against him. "i love you," he whispers, his voice full of sincerity.
"i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling in your chest.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol seventeen#seventeen choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagines#choi seungcheol fanfic#choi seungcheol angst#seungcheol#choi seungcheol x reader#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol angst#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups angst#scoups seventeen#seventeen scoups
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hello there!
Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊
ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))
ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!
✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)
✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.
✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.
✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.
"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"
Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.
"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.
"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"
"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"
Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.
Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.
But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.
"Hello, everyone!"
God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.
Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.
"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"
Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?
"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."
"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"
Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.
"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.
"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"
Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.
If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.
"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."
Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.
"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)
"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"
"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)
Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.
"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.
"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)
"Sir, I know it—"
"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"
Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.
"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.
The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.
"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"
He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."
"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."
"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."
"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."
"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"
"You should have seen your face, baby!"
Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.
"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."
"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"
"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.
"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"
"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.
But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.
"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."
"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."
Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.
"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.
Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.
"You know what else I deserve?"
"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"
It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.
"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.
Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.
"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)
He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.
"Ready, kid?"
"No, but I'll do it anyways."
"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.
"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)
He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.
It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"
"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)
"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.
"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"
"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."
ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:
#lele writes ʚɞ#formula 1#f1#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula one#imagine#formula one fluff#formula one fluff imagine#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x oc#franco colapinto x reader#senna!oc#franco colapinto x senna!daughter#senna!reader#ayrton senna#williams racing
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( reaction ) tying your hair up prank ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ tying your hair up in front of them to get their reaction ヾ
boyfriend!엔하이픈・ fem!reader g ・ smut cw ・ no actual sex , needy jake , talks of oral sex wc ・ 1k | click to library
request. can you please do enha's reactions to their partner doing the "tying my hair up in front of my boyfriend" prank
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3
﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ
heeseung saw you set the camera up, but knowing the both of you often filmed yourselves together he didn’t think anything of it , especially when he saw you reach for the scrunchie on your wrist , he just thought it was about to go down and he was for it. “heeseung can you hand me that charger?” you asked , he was confused. the camera? the scrunchie? but no head. “what’s wrong?” you asked him trying not to laugh. “nothing.” he had a look of suspicion on his face as he passed you the camera. you couldn’t help but laugh as he handed you the camera. “baby you should see your face.” he rolled his eyes with a smirk. “why can’t you ever be serious?” he was about to stand up to get your phone for you when grabbed his wrist. “no keep it there.” now he could tell you were serious, he sat back down. “was this stupid prank just a way of you telling me you wanted to give me head?” he smirked.
“well baby the camera is rolling, how about you show the camera how you suck my dick like a good girl.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ
jay is different; he won't take notice of you doing something like tying your hair up, and he didn’t even notice you set the camera up so you’d have to get a little creative. “baby.” setting the camera up , he finally looked up from his laptop. “how can i help you princess.” he genuinely wanted to know what you wanted , he didn’t expect you to tie your hair up , rubbing his thighs. “oh?” he said, assuming what you wanted — but it was completely different. “what do you want to eat?” you held back a laugh , as he turned around in his chair, facing his laptop. “i don’t care.” he grumbled under his breath. “baby.” you laughed spinning his chair around. “don’t be upset.” you pouted , kissing his lips. you were about to reach for your phone when he stopped. “no don’t stop it.” he said caressing your cheek. “how about you make it up to me.” you nodded. “good girl.”
“now get on your knees and suck me off.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jake ﹚ .ᐟ
in jakes mind: your hair tied up = he’s about to get head. he didn’t even notice you set the camera up , just you taking the hair tie from your wrist , tying your hair up. he’s like bet — unbuckling his jeans, ready to pull them down. “jake what are you doing?” now he’s confused. “what do you mean?” you try and hold back a laugh, but he’s just staring at you with those puppy eyes. “why are you pulling your jeans down?” now he’s even more confuse. “are you not about to give me head?” you had to force a laugh down. “then why would you tie your hair up.” he pouted , he’s not even embarrassed he’s upset. “jake.” you laughed , pointing to the camera. “stupid camera.” he reached over pushing your phone down bitterly. “jake!” you scolded the boy. “your phone will be fine , i won’t.” he groaned. “im hard now.” you rolled your eyes. “already?”
“well i was already hard but seeing you tying your hair up made it worse.”
﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ
he saw you set the camera up and knew you were on some shit; however he allowed you to continue. “hey hoonie.” you sat down on the bed. “hey?” he watched you closely still unsure what you were doing. “it’s so hot.” you said , reaching over his body to the nightstand, grabbing a scrunchie to tie your hair up. your position and the way you sat; all sizes pointed to head, but the camera was saying something else. “you’re the one that said you didn’t want to film our sexual encounters but im not against it.” he said sitting his down , ready for you – but you never came. “well hurry up , we have somewhere to be soon.” you wanted to laugh , but the way he was nonchalant about it sorta made you want to do it. “this was supposed to be a prank.” he stared at you blankly , before speaking. “well then you better turn that camera off.”
“because now im hard as fuck and it’s your fault so fix it.”
©️LUVYENI
#enhypen smut#enhypen hard headcanons#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung smut#jay park x reader#jay park smut#jake sim smut#jake sim x reader#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon smut
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I always read the articles you fearmongers post, including this one, so I can know what actually happened and let everyone know you’re lying. So I’m pleased to go through it with you and help you understand it better :)
“Such as?”
Such as the fact that Texas abortion laws don’t ban miscarriage treatment and explicitly state that abortion is allowed in cases like this one and they leave that out because they want to blame it on the abortion laws.
“Although US abortion bans – which more than a dozen states have enacted in the two years since the supreme court overturned Roe v Wade – technically permit the procedure in medical emergencies, doctors across the country have said that the laws are worded so vaguely that they don’t know when they can legally intervene. Instead, many physicians say they have been forced to wait until a patient is on the brink of death – then attempt to pull them back.”
So poorly written legislation is delaying needed medical care and making what should be routine procedures more dangerous. “
No, poorly written legislation is not delaying needed medical care and making routine procedures more dangerous. The problem is either a lying media or stupid doctors who apparently can’t read or are lying to try and seize an opportunity to be activists are delaying needed medical care and making routine procedures more dangerous.
Claiming “doctors just can’t understand it 🤷♀️” doesn’t explain how the legislation is at fault especially since the journalist was able to understand abortion is allowed in medical emergencies. So if a journalist understands that but the doctor doesn’t that hardly seems like the fault of legislation.
I don’t think any of the doctors have actually read the abortion law in Texas and I know you haven’t. So let’s look at the applicable part of the legislation Section 170A.002
(a) A person may not knowingly perform, induce, or attempt an abortion.
(b) The prohibition under Subsection (a) does not apply if:
(1) the person performing, inducing, or attempting the abortion is a licensed physician;
(2) in the exercise of reasonable medical judgment, the pregnant female on whom the abortion is performed, induced, or attempted has a life-threatening physical condition aggravated by, caused by, or arising from a pregnancy that places the female at risk of death or poses a serious risk of substantial impairment of a major bodily function unless the abortion is performed or induced; and
(3) the person performs, induces, or attempts the abortion in a manner that, in the exercise of reasonable medical judgment, provides the best opportunity for the unborn child to survive unless, in the reasonable medical judgment, that manner would create:
(A) a greater risk of the pregnant female's death; or
(B) a serious risk of substantial impairment of a major bodily function of the pregnant female.
Any doctor who claims they can’t understand that if they, in their own medical judgment, determine the situation to be an emergency that they can perform an abortion and do not need permission would be saying they don’t know what “reasonable medical judgment” is and if that’s the case they are a dumbass doctor.
So you or the article are going to have to explain how this is too confusing for doctors to understand. What is poorly written about this legislation?
“So this VERY clearly is a law, as written, killing this woman. Like the only arguments here are if you don’t understand what’s going on.”
lol I’m glad you admitted the only arguments you have are if you don’t understand what’s going on because that’s clearly your issue. No one who reads the paragraphs you posted from the article would see how that is VERY clearly the fault of the law because the article was really vague about the law and they don’t even link to it so that people could see what they are talking about and they mention nothing specifically about what’s in the law. So it’s only VERY clearly the law if you just believe what you’re told and are too lazy to do any independent research. But thankfully I’ve posted the law for you so you can read it and see that the claims the article makes it about it aren’t true. Let’s go through the paragraphs you posted that you believe make it VERY clear that the problem is the law for some reason.
“Barnica went to the hospital with cramps when she was just over 17 weeks pregnant on 2 September 2021, the day after the Texas six-week abortion ban took effect, according to ProPublica.”
Ok so we’re clear there’s a six week abortion ban in Texas.
“Barnica’s cervix was dilated at nearly 9cm, a condition that left her vulnerable to fast-acting infections, ProPublica reported. Normally, in cases like Barnica’s doctors will offer medication to speed up labor or perform a procedure to empty the uterus”
Ok so now they see she is at risk of infection and the guardian lists two options that are usually done in this case.
1. Offering medication to speed up labor.
2. “Empty the uterus” (aka abortion)
“But Barnica’s fetus still had a heartbeat. And under the Texas ban, doctors could not intervene unless a “medical emergency” – a term that was not defined in the law – developed.”
And here’s where the dishonesty starts coming in. Under the Texas abortion ban, abortion is banned at six weeks unless there is a medical emergency. And the guardian claims the term was not defined in the law but as I have shown by posting the law itself it clearly states that what constitutes an emergency is up to the doctor assessing the situation. So if a doctor believes, using reasonable medical judgment, that the situation is an emergency abortion is permitted. Any doctor could have examined her, determined in their own judgment that it was an emergency and performed an abortion. And every doctor in Texas knows that.
Besides, even if doctors don’t know what “reasonable medical judgment” is (which in that case makes them bad doctors) and stupidly believed they didn’t have the authority to declare the abortion medically necessary this is all in reference to option 2: “emptying the uterus.”
We still have another treatment option.
Here’s the paragraph you’re leaving out between the one above and the one below.
About 40 hours after Barnica’s second arrival at the hospital, doctors stopped being able to detect a fetal heartbeat, according to the report. A doctor expedited her labor using medications and delivered Barnica’s fetus. But after she returned home, Barnica’s bleeding continued and worsened.
So Barnica has been treated at the hospital. Labor is induced and the baby is delivered. The baby has been removed from her uterus - just like would have happened in an abortion - and she is sent home where her condition gets worse.
“Within days, she was back at the hospital, where she died of sepsis involving “products of conception”, according to her autopsy report.”
Just in case you were wondering that means the baby killed her.”
No sweetie, that doesn’t mean the baby killed her. The baby is also a victim in this scenario.
“Multiple experts, including OB-GYNs and maternal fetal medicine specialists, told ProPublica that delaying Barnica’s care ran against the medical standard of care due to the risk of infection.
That bit means that medical experts knew what to do but werent allowed to.”
No dear that bit doesn’t mean medical experts knew what to do but weren’t allowed to. I know your reading comprehension is bad but my gosh you’re really taking some liberties here.
What that bit means is that there was a delay in her care that ran against the medical standard of care. That’s not a law issue, that’s a doctor issue. That doesn’t mean they weren’t allowed to treat her, it means they didn’t treat her fast enough. The word “delay” doesn’t mean “not allowed” it means “a period of time during which something is late or postponed.”
She was treated and they got the baby out of her but they should have done it earlier. They were allowed to do that the entire time but they waited too long. That’s what that bit means.
“So now that we have clearly shown that you projected your own sin of ignorance upon me. Let’s see if you had any other points to make.”
No you haven’t clearly shown that at all. What you have clearly shown, though, is that interpreting news articles is not your strong point.
“Article covered that... there was a heartbeat so no care could be provided due to the Abortion laws in Texas”
And I addressed that. If there’s a medical emergency or severe risk to the mother that restriction does not apply. You even quoted the part of the article that confirmed that and I posted the law for you to read. Read it over as many times as you need to until that important bit of information sticks. So in this situation there was no restriction based on the heartbeat.
“Baby had a heartbeat so their hands were tied. You either didnt read the article, dont understand what you are talking about, or dont care what is written and just pray your audience wont read it.”
Their hands weren’t tied and both you and the article failed miserably in attempting to prove that they were. And they did treat her so clearly their hands weren’t tied which you would know if you had read the article and had any reading comprehension whatsoever which you very obviously do not.
They induced labor and the got the baby out. That was the treatment. But later she developed sepsis and tragically died anyway and ALSO, because I’m SURE you don’t know this, ABORTION WOULD NOT HAVE PREVENTED WHAT HAPPENED HERE. Sepsis is also a risk with abortion. If doctors had performed an abortion and sent her home she likely still would have developed sepsis and still would have died.
Really she needed to remain under observance in the hospital so they could have monitored her condition instead of sending her home.
“Wait wait wait... did I not read the article or is the article lying? If these laws aren't preventing this necessary care then there should be a HUGE wave of malpractice lawsuits being taken out against these doctors who " committed malpractice when they saw an opportunity to be activists."
I think the article is lying and I think maybe you did it read it but you’re not good at understanding what you read.
I think there definitely are some malpractice lawsuits that need to happen but the article is lying here because they are blaming abortion laws for the fact that this woman died when as I’ve clearly shown abortion laws had nothing to do with specific case.
The woman was treated, the baby was removed from her uterus and she tragically developed sepsis later on, which would also very likely have occurred with an abortion so you and the article still have yet to say how the abortion laws prevented treatment in this specific case.
The doctors involved in this case haven’t even commented which means the whole article is largely speculation and you really should be ashamed of yourself for being so easy to fool.
I’ve already explained that the heartbeat restriction doesn’t apply so if you say that again you’re objectively wrong and make pro-aborts look even worse than they already do because you’re showing you guys can’t comprehend basic information.
So wait... your argument is that Doctors are sacrificing the lives of patients for political gains? That is a HUGE leap and requires more proof than you insinuating that it might be true. I could, with just as much likelihood, insinuate that you are suggesting such a thing in a completely baseless way because you want to hold on to your political views and win an argument despite facts. So please provide some sort of basis that makes your statement that political human sacrifice is happening in OB/GYN offices in (I think) 14 states across the nation.
No sweetie, my argument is not that doctors are sacrificing live of patients for political gains. My argument is that when the media writes these articles and spreads them around they are lying.
I’m saying the cases did NOT go down the way they reported and doctors are not standing around with their hands tied because of abortion laws you don’t understand. The women they claim died because of abortion bans actually don’t die because of the abortion ban and they die for different reasons.
What I’m saying if the articles were actually being truthful, it would mean doctors were committing malpractice for political gain. But I DON’T think that’s happening because the articles are NOT telling the truth.
Some doctors out there do for sure but the articles you share are mostly just disinformation intended to make people think abortion laws are responsible for deaths they’re not responsible for.
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unexpected confession.
pairings: lando norris + fem reader.
summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.
genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.
notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.
you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.
you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.
and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."
your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”
his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.
you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”
he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”
you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"
“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”
his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.
you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”
he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”
you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”
his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”
you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”
his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”
you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."
his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.
you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."
lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."
©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.
#piastrisun: work#piastrisun: one shot#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic
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Reverse Inheritance
The first time Leo told me he could astral project, I didn't think much of it. My grandson had been living with me ever since his father—my son—went to prison, and though he was 20n now, he still had that same wild imagination he'd had as a kid.
Just last month, he'd been on about reincarnation, saying he remembered fragments of past lives. And before that, he was convinced our neighbor was running a smuggling ring out of his garage. Normally, I didn’t mind letting him ramble on. But lately, I was starting to get a bit tired of it.
Today, however, Leo seemed particularly insistent. “I’m serious, Grandpa. I can do it. Astral projection. It’s real.”
I scoffed. "Alright, then. Let’s do a little experiment."
"Sure, what kind of experiment?"
I reached over to a drawer and pulled out an old deck of cards, shuffling them a couple of times until I was satisfied. I fanned the cards out, then carefully picked one from the middle, holding it up so only I could see. “If you’re telling the truth, you should be able to ~float out of your body~ and go behind me to tell me what this card is,” I challenged, leaning back.
Leo took a deep breath, closing his eyes. His breathing slowed, his shoulders relaxing in a way I’d never seen before. For a second, I actually thought he might’ve fallen asleep. But then, with his eyes still closed, he whispered, “Eight of spades.”
I froze. Placing the card face up on the table—the eight of spades.
I forced a laugh. “Lucky guess. Let’s go again.”
Leo gave a small shrug and smirked. “Alright. Let’s.”
I shuffled the deck again, this time picking a card off the top. “Alright, wise guy,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “What is it?”
He closed his eyes again, barely a few seconds this time. “Three of hearts.”
I looked down at the card, and my stomach did a small flip. “Alright,” I said, trying to mask my surprise. “That was another good guess, I’ll give you that. Let’s see if you’re really up to it.”
This time, I picked three cards at once, spreading them face down on the table. “No way you’re getting all of these right,” I muttered, almost to myself.
But a few seconds later, He rattled them off without a second thought. “Queen of diamonds, five of clubs, ace of spades.”
I looked at each card in my hand, and they were all correct. My jaw dropped, and I couldn’t hide it. “Shit… wow,” I breathed. “Alright, kid, you got me. I believe you.”
Leo’s eyes opened, and he gave me a small, satisfied smile. “You want me to teach you how?”
My heart was pounding a little faster than usual. “You think I could?” I asked, half-joking but more curious than I wanted to let on.
Leo leaned forward, his face serious. “Yeah. But you have to really want to do it. Like, let go of everything. All those thoughts that keep you grounded here.”
"Let go of everything…" I repeated.
---
Over the next few weeks, Leo patiently taught me to master astral projection. At first, it felt like some sort of strange meditation. But gradually, I learned how to slip out of my physical body, just as Leo did, until I could stand beside myself, looking down at the slouched figure.
Each session, Leo and I would push the boundaries a little more. We couldn’t go too far since our astral projections only seemed to last about four hours at a time, and even then, we couldn’t travel much faster than a brisk jog. But I was fine with that; I wasn’t interested in dashing across the city, only in seeing how far I could push this strange new freedom.
When we’d reach the end of our limit and weren’t back in our bodies yet, something bizarre would happen. Our astral selves would start to get get pulled back, as if our bodies had a magnetic force calling us home. Those first few times, it was disorienting, hurtling back through space until I snapped back into my skin, breathless, my heart pounding. Leo explained that it was the body’s way of keeping us tethered, that if we stayed out too long, our astral forms would dissipate like smoke, and we’d cease to exist.
“Cease to exist?” I asked him one night, feeling the weight of that warning.
Leo nodded, his face solemn. “I haven’t pushed it that far, Grandpa. And I don’t think we should. The pull back gets stronger the closer we get to that limit. But if we ignore it…” He shrugged, letting the words hang in the air, dark and final.
Still, despite the risk, I found myself craving these nightly adventures. For the first time in years, I felt alive, truly alive. As someone who’d all but resigned myself to the slow, tired rhythms of old age, it was thrilling. But as our nights stretched on, I started to wonder about Leo’s fascination with this skill. He was young; he didn’t have a curfew, he didn’t have an old, weary body holding him back. He could be out living his life instead of hovering in ghostly form around the house or strolling through empty streets with his old grandpa. What was he getting out of this?
One night, as we settled into our chairs to begin our ritual, I glanced over at Leo’s body. He’d gotten comfortable, his head tilted back, his breathing already slowing, his eyelids fluttering shut. It struck me how young and full of life he looked, even when he was so still. I felt an odd pang of longing, a desire that surprised me in its intensity.
When had I last felt young? Truly young, without the weight of decades pressing down on my shoulders? What would it be like to feel like that one more time, to feel that boundless energy I saw in Leo.
As Leo’s breathing grew steady, his astral self drifting beside me, I looked back at his empty body, sitting there, vulnerable and untouched. The thought tugged at me, and for a moment, I felt an almost irresistible urge to reach out, take his body for myself just for one fleeting moment
---
The idea had been lingering in the back of my mind for weeks now. Every time I saw Leo drifting out of his body, the temptation grew a little stronger.
He was shy about his body, sure, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that felt like a betrayal somehow, slipping into him without asking. But there’s no way he’d ever say yes. Besides, I would be in and out before he’d ever know, right?
Finally, I gathered the courage. One evening, Leo announced he was heading out and asked me to join. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, wanna come with,” he said with a grin as he leaned back, his breathing slowing as he began the process.
I shook my head no, feigning sleepiness. “I’ll stay in tonight,” I replied. “I could use the rest.”
As his body drifted to sleep, I waited, counting each minute until I was sure his astral form was far enough away. Then, with my heart racing, I initiated my own astral walk and hovered towards his body .
A deep anticipation rushed over me as I prepared to enter. “Just a half hour, tops” I told myself.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to slip in as gently as possible. But something was wrong. As soon as I began, it felt as if I were pushing against a wall. I couldn’t just slide in like I usually did with my own body. I adjusted my position, aligning myself more carefully with his form, and tried again. This time, I felt a bit of give, and gradually, I was able to push through, inch by inch.
First my legs merged with his, then my torso. I felt the strength in his muscles as I took on his form. I kept pushing, my hands now matching his, aligning, filling out his arms, until finally, my head was nearly there, just hovering over his own.
But then, out of nowhere, I saw Leo’s astral form float towards me from across the room, his face a mixture of shock and fear. Me entering his body must’ve attracted his astral form back as a defense mechansim. Panic flared within me. If he re-entered his body while I was halfway in… I didn’t even know what would happen, but I didn’t want to find out. Before he could reach me, I shoved my head down, slipping fully inside.
---
I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, I realized I was fully conscious—inside Leo’s body. My vision felt sharper, my muscles responsive, and as I looked down, I took in his smooth, toned arms, the strength and youth radiating through every limb. It was exhilarating.
I hopped up, feeling the lightness in my step that I hadn’t felt in years. Each movement was effortless, as if my body itself had forgotten what it meant to be heavy. I walked around the room, flexing his hands, rolling his shoulders, feeling every inch of youth as it coursed through me.
But then I felt something odd—a light tapping on my stomach, almost like a faint punch or a persistent nudge. Instinctively, I flexed Leo’s abs, the sensation dulling a bit, and that’s when it hit me. That tapping—that was Leo, trying to get his body back.
“Leo…” I whispered, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry, kid. I’ll be out soon, I promise.”
I let myself enjoy the feeling of his body, each sensation crisp and vivid. As I explored myself, I felt a familiar tension grow in my pants, one that I hadn’t felt in years. Instinctively, I reached down to my waistband and grabbed down to tug at my new, surprisingly hairy ball sack. That was enough to get my cock to throb.
I began stroking my new, uncut cock while feeling up my smooth torso with my other hand. As I did, my mind wandered to all the hot guys I could pull in this body if Leo ever let me borrow it again. Concentrating on that thought was all it took to send me over the edge. Slowly and sensually tugging at my shaft, I spurted all over my chest, completely draining mysefl.
Finally, as I lay back into the bed, a wave of satisfaction washed over me, leaving me feeling both exhilarated and calm. The room was warm and quiet, and with the last bit of energy fading from me, I felt a sudden drowsiness settle in. I lay down, and before I could convince myself to leave, I drifted into sleep, enveloped in the softness of youth and the quiet of Leo’s room.
--
I jolted awake, my heart racing as I felt hands gripping my shoulders, shaking me roughly. Blinking in confusion, I looked up—and there was my old, familiar face, creased with panic and rage, staring down at me.
“What the hell did you do?” he demanded, his voice hoarse and furious.
It took me a second to process, my mind still foggy from sleep. I tried to sit up, disoriented, and felt the youthful energy of Leo’s body springing into action, as if the night hadn’t worn it down in the slightest.
“What…” I managed, words failing me. But he kept going, too upset to wait for me to catch up.
“I had no choice but to take your body,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “Otherwise, I’d have just… disappeared. Astral projection doesn’t work for body swapping. That’s not how it’s supposed to go. I never told you that because I didn’t think you’d ever try something like this.”
The full weight of his words settled over me, each one hitting like a cold punch. “So… we can’t just switch back?”
He shook his—my—head, a bitter smile flashing across his face. “No. There's a refractory period before we can attempt any switch again. It’s designed to prevent exactly what you just did. We’d have to wait ten years before we could even try to go back.”
“Ten years…” I repeated, the words sinking in like stones in my stomach. My old body—now his—was 90. I knew my own heart, knew how every joint ached, knew how every year was harder than the last. The odds of it lasting another decade were slim to none.
The guilt knotted in my chest, sharp and sour. I opened my mouth to apologize, to try to explain, but the words caught in my throat. What could I even say?
But then, unbidden, a different thought crept in. In ten years, this body would be 30. That meant I had Leo’s—my entire 20s to live again, the years I’d once cherished and missed deeply. I looked down at my youthful hands, the strength and vitality I could feel coursing through every inch of Leo’s body, and felt a strange, conflicted thrill rise within me.
He must’ve noticed the shift in my expression, because his face—my old, familiar face—darkened. “Are you… are you happy about this?” he whispered, incredulous.
I shook my head, trying to fight the feelings rising up within me, but they were relentless. The shame of it burned hot, yet I couldn’t deny the excitement simmering just beneath.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my expression steady. “Leo,” I said softly, but I didn’t know how to finish.
He watched me, a flash of betrayal in his eyes as he seemed to understand, even without me saying it. And then, with a bitter laugh, he turned away.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room. Fuck, this’ll be fun.
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I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️
staff!woozi
WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.
staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.
you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”
you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”
he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.
he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”
“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.
“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.
“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.
he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”
staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.
“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”
he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”
staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.
“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.
“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.
he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”
his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.
staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.
but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”
you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.
he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”
“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”
next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.
staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.
so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng
“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.
he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.
when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.
you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.
it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.
but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.
“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.
“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.
staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.
but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.
and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.
woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.
staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.
you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.
you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”
he glances over, raising an eyebrow.
“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”
“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”
you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”
he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”
you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”
you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”
your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.
he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.
you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.
“so… you heard that?”
his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”
you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.
“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.
“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt smut#svt imagines#seventeen fic#seventeen x you#seventeen x yn#seventeen x oc#seventeen x y/n#woozi smut#woozi#woozi x reader#svt woozi#seventeen woozi#woozi fluff#woozi angst#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi reactions#woozi drabbles#woozi headcanons#jihoon smut#lee jihoon#jihoon x reader
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op re your tag: #do you think they played 20 questions
yes! yes, i absolutely do! because—as you said—two hours is a very long time to spend treading water while maybe possibly probably about to die, but especially with somebody you don't know all that well.
and this is stiles we're talking about! adhd motormouth stiles stilinski, who cannot bear uncomfortable (or even comfortable lol) silences at the best of times. so put him in an incredibly tense situation? with somebody he doesn't know very well? somebody he is nervous around (because contrary to popular belief stiles does actually have some self preservation instincts, plus, y'know, there's the whole derek is objectively hot as all sin thing) and of course he would start babbling away incessantly! ofc he would!
so yeah yes uh-uh you can absolutely bet your bottom dollar that stiles is gonna rope the local creeper wolf into playing 20 questions!
that boy will also absolutely be getting derek to play the “i go to the shops and buy...” recall game that his mom used to play with him when he was a little kid! he will absolutely be forcing der to sing the national anthem with him (derek does not sing, he doesn't, but he's maybe about to possibly die and is losing his mind a little so sue him if he grumbles through the verses an octave deeper than stiles's ridiculous soprano)! stiles absolutely asks derek what his favourite thai order is (it's pad thai, which stiles mocks him for because it's such an unbelievably basic choice, and derek resolutely tells him to fuck off) and stiles in turn shares with derek that his favourite is tom yum goong which obviously means he is more adventurous than derek (which is when derek tells stiles that hot and sour shrimp soup is not really that adventurous, and then reminds stiles that stiles can resolutely fuck off)! and then, what with the whole probable death thing, stiles absolutely starts to wonder if derek might be thinking about his family, and wonders when the last time was that derek got to talk about them, so he asks derek to tell stiles stuff about them, and at first derek is too stubborn (upset) to talk about them, but stiles keeps asking him more and more questions about his mom and dad and brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, and derek realises that he really does want to talk about them all so he starts answering stiles's questions in only short sentences at first but then finds himself regaling funny stories about them and thinks about all sorts other fond memories because of this, ending up telling stiles things he hasn't thought about in years and it's really nice, so then he's then asking stiles about stiles's family, and stiles says he's never had that much of it really but talks about how losing his mom when he was little was and is the fucking worst thing that ever happened to him because she was his best friend in the whole wide world (he loves his dad too, but saw even less of him back when he was a deputy) and he tells derek how he misses her like a lung and that he talks to her sometimes (which derek does with laura, too, but isn't about to admit to that) and that derek's deadpan humour often reminds him of her, and then he hears derek huff a little bit and it's the kind of huff that sounds almost like a laugh, a kind one, and stiles knew that talking and talking and not shutting up to try and break the ice during this week's perilous situation would pay off and hey! look at that! he absolutely got the trauma edgelord lycanthrope to not only open up about his life but to cheer up a bit and not be such a sourwolf and even laugh a little, too! which hey, if they're about to die, that's objectively actually the best thing a human and werewolf could do together, right?
so yeah, maybe op is spot on and we don't talk about this scene enough. which is a shame because there is SO much scope here, and we absolutely should delve into it more, again and again and again—because i think it is absolutely what stiles (and derek) would do xp
We really need to talk about the fact the stiles was prepared to drown to keep Derek alive.
He was treading water for two hours with Derek weight on him and only when his muscles started to give up did he try and hang onto the diving board. If Scott didn’t get there in time both stiles and Derek would have drown.
Also they couldn’t have been completely silent the entire time. Do you think as they both felt stiles weaken that they’d have to come to grips with the idea of dying. Do you think how Derek was paralyzed in the arms of a human (he doesn’t trust humans) and spent the entire time thinking “well this is the moment he’s going to let me go and I drown”; and how shocked he must of been when stiles refused to let him go. I know that stiles was definitely thinking about his dad. I wonder when the moment was that they realized they might die in that pool. The final moments before they both went under when stiles is trying so hard to keep them both alive. The way that stiles talks about drowning after this incident.
I really feel like we don’t talk about this enough.
#might have to write this fic now#love everything you brought up here op!#thank you for helping the brainrot to ferment a little further and in turn inspiring this <3#sterek#stiles stilinski#derek hale#the pool scene
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