#f1
2.6M followers4.2K recent posts
Mr Italian
Summary: YN attends her home Grand Prix without knowing a thing about F1 and falls in love in a day.
Requested: Yes / could you please do one with a reader who knows nothing about f1 but somehow meets kimi so obvs doesnt know he's a driver and then they get together - the details can be up to you! thanks!
Instagram /
liked by username, yfn.yfln, username, username and 209 others
yn.ln: she said we’re going to the grand prix like i knew what that meant
username: YOU LIVE IN MONACO HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT F1
-> yn.ln: i know every year im mildly inconvenienced by something i just didn’t look into it 😭
-> username: girl wtf
username: Nope. Give me your ticket immediately.
-> yn.ln: please take it i understand nothing
yfn.yfln: You’re gonna be a real fan after this I promise
-> yn.ln: quite literally not a chance
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#the pitt
644K followers1.1K recent posts
LET’S KEEP THINGS PROFESSIONAL
baran al-hashimi x fem!reader, 5.7k words.
NSFW! mdni. while out partying with ellis and shen, you get a text from your attending asking for a picture you took of the work schedule. drunk and uncoordinated, you accidentally send her the wrong picture. the consequences aren’t what you expect.
“Don’t do it,” warns Ellis, looking down at the pictures on your phone. “Seriously, this is a horrible idea.”
You roll your eyes, pulling your phone away so she can’t see any more despite how you were fine with her seeing pictures of you in a too-revealing lingerie set only moments ago.
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#kimi antonelli
5.5K followers145 recent posts
Mr Italian
Summary: YN attends her home Grand Prix without knowing a thing about F1 and falls in love in a day.
Requested: Yes / could you please do one with a reader who knows nothing about f1 but somehow meets kimi so obvs doesnt know he's a driver and then they get together - the details can be up to you! thanks!
Instagram /
liked by username, yfn.yfln, username, username and 209 others
yn.ln: she said we’re going to the grand prix like i knew what that meant
username: YOU LIVE IN MONACO HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT F1
-> yn.ln: i know every year im mildly inconvenienced by something i just didn’t look into it 😭
-> username: girl wtf
username: Nope. Give me your ticket immediately.
-> yn.ln: please take it i understand nothing
yfn.yfln: You’re gonna be a real fan after this I promise
-> yn.ln: quite literally not a chance
- See more
#dc
920K followers628 recent posts
- Source: textsfromsuperheroes.com
Time, you & me
Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader
summary: Bruce Wayne is a billionaire industrialist, philanthropist, and notorious playboy. You are the smartest businesswoman on Earth, a vocal feminist, a billionaire in your own right, and the founder of a company worth billions. In Gotham, you and Bruce are fierce rivals, constantly challenging one another both in business and in your secret vigilante career. Yet beneath the rivalry lies an undeniable tension neither of you can seem to escape. After all, he is your ex.
warning: enemies
to lovers, ANGST, break up, hurt/still no comfort, violence, blood, broken nose, fighting, break in, yelling, punching the door, talk about death, nightmares, kid a self sacrifice, hint of Joker, Joker knows Bruce is Batman, arguing, deep talks kinda, slight yearning I guessss?, not proofread (finished this half asleep LMAO), wc:4.6kseries masterlist
Ten years ago…
Bruce proposed to you last week, and ever since, you can’t stop smiling. It took him five months to find the right ring for you, and the ring he wanted to give you was in Italy. It also took him two more months to finally propose to you without feeling like he will throw up due to nervousness. But when you said yes and gave him a hug, all he could do was hold you tight and smile like an idiot.
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#outer banks
84K followers153 recent posts
ᯓ★ break up with your boyfriend
⋆˚꩜｡ pairing : fem!reader x dealer!JJ MAYBANK.
⋆˚꩜｡ summary : jj doesn’t like ur kook bf very much. ꒰ wc .ᐟ 2.3k꒱
⋆˚꩜｡ warnings : petnames [ doll , princess , good girl 🤞🥹 ] , slightly condescending-ness from jj [ barely ] , kind of cheating ?? , weed , ur bf is an actual asshole lmao so don't feel bad , mentions of cociane , n overall suggestiveness , NOT proofread at all.
the first thing you’re met with when your dealer opens the weathered wooden door of his small shack is his sly grin, where the corner of his lips tweak upward and his eyes stare down at you with an intensity you can’t quite name. the next, your gaze graces his gorgeous stature as you step into the weed-scented living room. everything — from his sun-damaged golden locks, to the slight bulge of his bicep as it presses against his shirt, then to the slight speckles of freckles on his nose. the final thing is the warmth in his voice: “ain’t this the third time i’m seein’ you this week, sugar? y’throwin’ a party ‘n’ not invitin’ me or what?”
never failing to make you comfortable; that’s the jj the island knows and loves.
“it’s not that, i promise jj. y’know i’d never do that to you,” you reply lazily, slumping down into the beer-stained cushions of his couch, “it’s just my boyfriend, i— urg. he’s actually the one who wants all of it. honestly, i’m starting to get worried he might be getting dependent but he never listens to me. i’m jus’ worried ‘cuz he used to have this really bad addiction not too long ago, but it’s fine. i guess.”
you hadn’t meant to ramble, to totally lore drop on the one person you really shouldn’t — really, you hadn’t. thing is, jj maybank’s always been so sweet with you. so attentive. hell, he’s helped you out the few times you greened out, and he’d never complained about the few times you’ve waffled the past. a little vulnerability isn’t that bad.
you’re certain jj feels the same.
he does — or more like he would — if one word hadn’t utterly grasped his attention, and put it into a chokehold.
boyfriend?
in all the small talk you’ve ever shared, you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend; and thing is, jj would shamelessly consider himself quite good at fishing information out of pretty girls.
his eyes narrow slightly, imperceptively, flickering through every interaction you’ve had together to try and recall a boyfriend. he leans further back into his seat beside you, forcing his jaw to loosen at an attempt to play of the
jealouslycuriosity lingering in his mind.you tuck a few flyaway strands of hair behind your ear, and adjust the bag you’d brought only to hide the stash of cash you’re planning on handing jj for the drugs, when the expected question gets asked: “boyfriend? since when you been tied down?”
you sensed the lightness in his voiced — notably forced — but your brain writes it off as something minimal. maybe he’s just, y’know, already a little high. not unusual for jj.
“a few months ago,” you shrug, looking around the shack.
“y’don’t seem exactly happy ‘bout that,” he points out, eyes blaring into you, “y’wanna try out a new strand? i’ll letcha have a free sample, f’my favourite customer. plus y’getta pour your heart out. i’ll listen, properly, swear down.”
your own gaze flutters back to the dealer, the soft smile he’s mentioned is ‘pretty as fuck’ lighting up your face. you’re quick to accept: “yes please. thanks, jj.”
in the few minutes your dealer’s away from your side, you make yourself at home. your bag’s tucked next to your leg, available for the second he comes back with the familiar baggie of joints he regularly hands you. you take of your jacket too — resting it over the arm of the sofa — allowing the shirt you’d specifically chosen to show off your body in it’s full glory. you’re flattening out the fabric when jj comes back, his signature silver lighter tinkering against the metal of his ring.
“aigh’t so, what’s happenin’. tell me all ‘bout your asshole boyfriend,” he mumbles, the sound of his voice slightly muffled thanks to the joint already pressed between his lips. he nestles back into place, throwing the lighter on his coffee table and moving one arm to rest against the top of the couch, just around your head.
you’re entranced, unable to stop staring, as jj pulls the blunt away from his mouth, angles his face slightly upward, and exhales a faint cloud of smoke that catches the slither of sunlight seeping in from some random window. he’s majestic, to say the least. his eyelids shut, a relaxation blatantly moving through his veins and arteries, followed by the growing smell of weed surrounding you.
he takes a second, appreciating the high building, before he passes you the joint, his attention now fully attached to you. you take it, pausing before bringing the roll to your own lips. your voice racks with hesitation as you finally mumble out, “.... you know max vallejo?”
“max vallejo?? that douche kook who moved up from argentina?”
your eyes widen, defensive, moving quickly to shield not only your boyfriend from the undoubted criticism but adjacently your relation ship, “he’s not a douche, jj, he’s really sweet and attentive—”
“the fuck he’s is. y’know he still buys coke from barry every other day and spits in our pogue faces jus’ ‘cuz we can’t afford t’hang out at that shitty kook country club like him ‘n’ the rest of his dumbass friends, right?” jj scoffs beside you, disgust creasing his brows together and forcing the skin around his nose to crinkle.
a silence follows.
stunned, disbelieving.
the joint feels heavy between your fingers. his words feel like an attack to your entire being. your suddenly very aware of the way your face seems to be moving: utterly betrayed.
your voice comes out marginally shaky the next time you speak, uncertainty now tainting your words, “he buys cocaine from barry?”
“you didn’t know?” jj asks, softening at the fragility surrounding you. from the tension in your shoulders, to the way your hands instinctively balled up into careful fists over your lap.
“well … i mean,” you shrug again, handing him the joint once again, feeling his gaze trace your every move, “he told me he was getting clean.”
fuck, why’d you believe him?? of course he wouldn’t just ‘get clean’ for you. he’s been obsessed with the drug since forever, and he’s only known your for what, a year, if that? you should’ve anticipated this. humiliation floods your face, eliciting a heat to spread over your cheeks and down your neck, a flush that isn’t aided when jj presses himself closer.
“doll, c’mon. look at me,” he huskily mutters. your vision is locked on some place on the other side of the room, one thousand things racing through your mind all at once. he’s having none of that. you don’t notice as he moves to place the joint somewhere beyond your peripherals, but you do notice the way the pad of his index finger moves to the under side of your chin, gently coaxing you to pliantly act out his instruction while he elucidates his stance: “listen, he’s a kook. not like a— a sarah or kiara kook, y’know, like with the one foot in each world typa thing, or y’know, where they’re actually bearable human beings. he’s the definition of a stuck up, silver-spoon fed dick.”
“yeah, but he can be so sweet.”
you chew on the inside of your cheek, one of your own hands moving to wrap around the wrist holding your gaze locked in place with his.
“sure. i bet he doesn’t even make you come first, does he?” jj jokes, chuckling at the mere thought.
you quieten, once more darting your eyes anywhere but the cerulean blue that feel as if they’re scanning through your soul. beside you, jj stiffens. his spine seemingly corrects itself, and his grip on your chin becomes that touch more intense.
“he doesn’t make you come first? your fucking kidding me, holy shit,” he scoffs, as if he’s personally insulted.
you squirm around softly, uneasy at the beat of quiet full of everything you don’t want to confront. jj takes his hand away from your jaw, moving himself back to comfortably rest against the fabric just after pulling the joint back between his fingers. he takes another drag, a long one — one that gives of the same energy of an overworked mother of three drinking straight out of a wine bottle after a long day.
“y’know what y’gotta do, right? like, that, not treatin’ you right is fucked up,” he says, after far too many beats.
“yeah, i know. i’ll talk with him—” you huff, already mapping out the paragraph you’re going to send him, when you get prematurely cut off.
“talk with him? motherfucker— no, doll, y’gotta break up with him.”
you whip around to look at him again; he’s already facing you. “but, jay—”
“no. no, fuck no. no buts or any of that bullshit. look, if i was your boyfriend,” something glints in his eye, something you can’t pin point, “i’d make you my entire world. y’need somethin’? well fuck, ima go out ‘n’ get it for you in twenty minutes, tops. y’feelin’ bad? i’ll eat you out jus’ t’make you forget about whatever shit’s on your mind. y’on your period ‘n’ cramps got you fucked over? i’ll learn how t’give the island’s best massages jus’ to help.”
your eyes fixate on him. “you don’t think periods are gross?”
“does max?” his eyebrows shoot up, able to guess the answer without verbal confirmation. of course he does. of course the sheltered, coddled asshole thinks a little blood is natural. in that moment, it dawns on you how fucked up the reality of that could be; simularly, it dawns on jj how messed up your ‘sweet and attentive’ boyfriend has been treating you. he assures, “you deserve everythin’ you want ‘n’ more. i swear, princess.”
your head shakes itself on auto pilot, but you feel your heart and mind start to give in anyways. he continues, that particular edge he usually holds evaporating and replacing itself with something saccharine, “break up with him. f’real, listen t’me. break up with the guy. he’s a walking advertisement for how shitty kooks are.”
something prickles at the back of your neck, making the sparse baby hairs stick up straight against your skin. your heart pace raises, and a thin layer of sweat seeps out into your palm. even your breathing’s shallowed, too much occurring when you had expected nothing.
thing is, your body’s tangible reaction might be from the prospect of breaking up with your boyfriend, or alternatively — and more likely — it could be from just how close jj’s next to you. somewhere along the heart-to-heart, his arm had regained it’s spot over the sofa cushions beside your head and slowly made it’s way down to rest lightly over your shoulders. you’re essentially tucked into him, with your head laying half over his chest. your thighs are pressed against his, and you feel a distinct electricity sparking over your skin.
“how ‘bout this: i’ll give y’a kiss if you do.”
“huh—” you’re caught so off-guard your body reacts faster than your mind; your breath hitches violently, and a blush blossoms over. a boyish grin splits jj’s face as he gazes down at you — his trademarked, makes-your-heart-ache kind of grin. oh, and the laugh that tears out of him? yep, same effect, “what? d’you not wanna? damn princess, ‘m heartbroken. thoughtcha liked me.”
you can’t tell if he’s joking. is he joking? why would be joke about this???
you swallow, confusion noticeably plastering over your face; jj’s smirk only grows at the sight. you consider his ask. you think about the pro’s and con’s:
benefits: you get possibly the best make out session ever with a super hot dealer surfer dude — maybe more; disadvantages … none? maybe a little smudged lipgloss??
“okay,” you murmur, still half expecting jj to whip out a camera and say this is some fucked up prank — he doesnt. infact, he joins you as your head nods up and down slightly, tilting his head to the side as he repeats you, “okay.”
you slowly reach down for your bag, rummage around the cash and whatever, pull out your phone and swipe up for the face id to recognise you. you’re very aware of jj’s eyes following your every movement, and it weirdly messes with you. your fingers move to open the contacts app, then to open your boyfriend’s messages.
beside you, you hear jj tsk at the name you’ve given him: ‘maxxx 🩷🩷’ — apparently even a couple hearts is too lovey for him.
you’re typing out the message when you feel jj get closer; you expect him to eye at the break up text you’re typing out, but instead he moves to hover his lips over the sensitive flesh of your neck, a simple “good,” getting mumbled out. before you can say anything about the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin, he latches his lips over a spot of your skin. he’s so sweet with it, kissing the area softly once he’s satisfied with the effect it’s made on you. it’s very distracting; you barely manage to fully write out the text.
YOU: this isn’t working out. sorry.
you mewl as jj detaches himself from your neck, the area he’d just been so attentive with now feeling cold and lacklustre. he quickly glances at the screen in front of him, before nodding once and moving back to show you exactly how a boyfriend should act.
his large hand moves to ease your phone out of your grip — the other snaking down around your waist to secure you beside him — before he shuts it off and tosses it aside. with both benefits already achieved, he tops everything off with one final pro.
“good girl. look, full attention on me, yeah? ima show y’pretty face jus’ how y’should be gettin’ treated.”
ᯓ★ a / n : i’m not ovulating, promise.
ᝰ.ᐟ divider cred : @enchanthings .
ᝰ.ᐟ taglist : @shayyaps , @mariamadison6-blog , @bambigirl10 , @mymelody-girlyyy , @maybankandspotify , @louisa8812 , @lolala1414 , @someonessupersecretspam , @moonlitpogue , @courta13 , @andrealux21 , @imnosuvu , @oopsimimagining , @bailsmbnk .
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.ᐟ 💌 to be added : comment under any of my posts, or ask via by my mailbox 🫶.
s5!rafe cameron x reader presents. . .
go ahead and cry little boy.
a/n :: OOOH okay i’ve done it!!! MAAAAJOOORR obx s5 spoilers, so if you haven’t watched it, don’t read this! thank you @moneyflowsworld for this request, also @rafesdaydream i love you both xoxo<3 english is not my first language.
divider cr —@sweetestpeacreatesc/w :: ANSGT , spoilers as i mentioned, loots of crying, mommy issues, rafe is a crybaby lol, hurt/comfort, i think that’s it? let me know if there’s anything else ! enjoy 🩵
rafe’s entire life, he thought his mother was just a woman who left her children without looking back and forgetting about them, especially him. he didn’t even know much about his mother, and that’s exactly why he turned out the way he is. lack of a parent always affects a child in the worst way possible, even more when the other parent hates the child for no reason. he didn’t like talking about his mother, nor did he like when someone would mention her. it was like he wanted to delete the memory of her from his mind to move on with his life.
stormy weather, rafe cameron
masterlist summary: IN WHICH — hurricane cassandra is only getting worse. will your ex-boyfriend welcome you home with open arms when you come knocking on his door?
warnings: ex boyfriend!rafe, fem!reader, fem!reader, obx season five (no spoilers)!rafe, puppy dog!rafe, angst!rafe, sweet!rafe, brief mentions of death and drowning (mentioned twice), brief mentions of removing clothes and lingerie, angsty start to super duper sweet ending. lmk if i forgot anything!
wordcount: 2.8k
divider created by @ mieluno <3 !
a/n: this is supposed to be inspired by that one scene with him and sofia during s5. im kinda obsessed with writing for rafe now. please leave me any rafe reqs i will so write for it -- i'll write anything! remember to like, comment, reblog, and follow for more!! xoxo —
The only thing more hostile than the growing pit in your stomach was the harsh weather Hurricane Cassandra was showing off to this side of the island. Everything you were wearing was soaked through — from your "rainproof" windbreaker, to the socks under your shoes. If you weren't under a roof in the next fifteen minutes, who knew what would happen to you?
You had no choice but to stay on the island — well, technically you did, but your morals said otherwise. You had promised your best friend that you would help her and her family prepare their restaurant for the upcoming storm (this was in compensation of the many free meals you got from them over the summer), and you had promised your parents you would catch the next flight out of Charleston once you were done doing what needed to be done in the Outer Banks.
The situation was fine, your friend had left a few days ago, and you needed to finish up with the restaurant. Mother Nature had other plans, and decided Hurricane Cassandra should come earlier than expected. That was no problem, you would just leave the island and catch the flight out of Charleston, like your parents had promised (and paid for).
Turns out it was a problem, a really big problem. Everyone seemed to have the same idea as you, and it only clicked to you once you got to the only boarding dock out of the island. It was no use to try and push your way past the hundreds of familiar faces, many old and young, that you had recognized in the crowd — they needed to get off this island more than you needed to.
You were stuck on the island — your parents had boarded up the house, and you had boarded up the restaurant (meaning you could only get into both if you had a crowbar, the keys were useless). Shit, you thought to yourself, what were you supposed to do now?
As you were practically running off of the pier, you noticed and stepped under a bus shelter. Though it didn't stop the harsh rain from hitting you, it gave you a moment to compose yourself. You couldn't freak out, what good would that be in this storm?
You took out your phone, to see what time it was. The picture of your dog on the lock screen brought a smile to your face. Even though it was hard for you in this storm right now, you were glad your puppy was out of harms way, along with your parents and friends as well.
Your phone read half past five. Though not ideal, it gave you hope — hope for enough time to find shelter before the sun was to set in just about two hours. You slid your phone into the waistband of your bottoms, hopefully it would stay just dry enough to still be able to be plugged into the wall to charge.
This was not the end-of-summer plans you wanted. You wanted a masquerade party like Trent Wincloss hosted, or maybe a fishing trip down in Kitty Hawk Bay. The only thing Mother Nature had to offer to you was a category five hurricane, and unfortunately you couldn't call in sick for these plans. So, just like anything else, you had to make do with what you had.
You were headed to Figure Eight. The house your parents owned was on the south side, right near the ocean. You knew it wasn't a smart idea to head there, the house would be in shambles first since it was right on the water. So, you found yourself heading east. East was better anyway, that neighbourhood was bigger — more houses meant a greater chance of finding someone who stayed behind. For that, there was enough hope.
You don't know why you ended up where you did. Was it your brain that pulled you here, or your heart? Or maybe it was the gut feeling you had, knowing he would stay here and defend what was his no matter how bad the storm may be. The light coming from his small bathroom window flickered, despite the rain hitting hard on the glass. Hopefully the skylight above his shower was still intact.
The water was up to your shins now. How would he react when you came knocking on his door, during one of the worst hurricanes this island has ever seen? Would he kick you to the curb, or would he welcome you with open arms? What if he didn't even open the door?
These thoughts raced through your head as you trekked up his drive way and to his front door. You didn't want to knock, how could you face him after all of these weeks? Weeks of eye tag at the country club, weeks of following and unfollowing each other on social media, weeks of being cold in bed without him.
It was too late, your fist already found itself to be knocking on the door. If he didn't answer the door, where would you go? Would you just drown in this storm? Would anyone ever find you, or would the marine life in the Atlantic Ocean take care of your cold body?
"Rafe!" You shouted, "Rafe, it's me! Please!" Your voice was weak, it cracked every other word. How could you blame yourself? You were wet, cold, and desperate. You watched the light from his bathroom turn off. Was he trying to play the 'nobody's home' act now?
You banged on his door once again pleading with yourself. You pleaded that the hope you had with yourself transferred to him, just for a minute or two — for enough time to open the door and not feel guilty about it. Without another thought exploring your mind, the door unlocked and opened an inch or two. You saw his blue eyes, the eyes you begged every God in the sky to bring back into your life.
When he realized who it was, the door opened just enough to pull you inside. The wind threatened to push the door in. A monstrous gust of wind followed you in, one that practically swept you off your feet. You squinted your eyes as you began to fell, only opening them after you felt a tight pressure on your bicep. Another pressure found its way to your waist, steading you on the ground.
"Why are you here?" Rafe asked you, "Your parents told me you supposed to be in Charleston this morning." This caught you off guard, this was the most he had said to you since the break up. You turned your body to face him, he still towered over you. As you looked up to meet his gaze, the hood of your windbreaker fell off the back of your head. "You talked to my parents?"
"Doesn't matter," He quickly shook his head, "Why the fuck aren't you at home, hm? You could've gotten killed! Do you see how bad it is out there?" Rafe's tone changed. When you first walked in, it almost seemed like he cared, why would he have talked to your parents if he didn't care about you? He started to pace for a stride or two, his hands on his head. You could tell this stressed him out, even if he didn't come out and say it.
You shook your head, the tear or two that escaped your eyes blended in with the rain still falling from your hair onto your face. "I had nowhere else to go, okay? You're the only person I figured would let me in." You had taken off your backpack, it was so wet that it was making a mess all over his marble floors. "Can I stay.. please Rafe?"
You could feel him staring at you, but you couldn't tell if it was from an 'I still hate her' or an 'I feel bad for her' perspective. You didn't wait for him to give an answer before you started to untie and take off your shoes, you knew your ex-boyfriend wouldn't turn you away. No matter how badly the two of you ended, deep down, you knew he cared enough to not let you be by yourself, outside, in a storm.
"Leave all your shit at the door," Rafe sounded annoyed, almost as if he didn't want to let you in, "I'll grab you a towel." he had stormed off almost like he was trying to be an angry toddler. You looked around the foyer, it had been (what felt like) an eternity since you stepped foot here.
You looked over to the ottoman, the one under the key hooks. The memories of every time he would take your feet onto his lap and do up your heels for the meaningless Kook parties the two of you always attended flashed through your head. Your eyes then found themselves looking at yourself in the mirror, but the mirror brought back memories too -- when the two of you would take pictures of each other in the mirror, and post them on Instagram with captions like 'the love of my life', or 'i love you more than anything'.
You were brought out of your trance when Rafe called your name, holding a towel out in your direction. "Leave all your clothes on the mat, none of my cleaners are here until this shit is done." He was referring to the storm. You nodded your head, taking the towel. You began to unzip your sweater, looking up at him. He watched you like he was hungry. "Can you turn around?" You asked.
"It's not like I haven't seen you before." Rafe answered, almost too quickly. Did he even think about his response before saying it? Every part of you wanted to allow it — to allow him to watch you undress yourself, and to allow him to touch what was his, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it, not yet. You turned around, beginning to take off everything that was soaked. The clothes you had on fell to the ground, one by one, until you had nothing on except Rafe's towel.
By the time you turned around, he was practically up the stairs already. "Clothes are on my bed for you." You had figured he was camping out in there, what else was he going to do while the storm passed? You trailed up the grand staircase he had, the cold marble beneath your feet sending up a shiver through your leg. Even though it was the middle of August, you prayed for there to be some sort of heat source that could give you comfort right about now.
You knew Rafe's house like the back of your hand, you had spend most of your time within these walls for the last few years. The two of you had been on and off a few times, but the most it ever lasted was two weeks when he couldn't bare to be apart from you. It had been longer than two weeks this time, and you weren't sure how much more you could take.
You stepped into his room, and there he was sitting on the opposite side of his California king bed. His back faced the door where you stood, you had assumed this was his way to give you privacy. Despite being King of the Kooks, he couldn't deal with the separation, especially when you were near him.
"What're these?" You looked down to what sat on his bed, the clothes that he had laid out for you. A pair of lace panties and sweatpants, ones you had never seen before. He turned his head just enough so you could see Adam's apple bob, "Thought you would've remembered it would've been our anniversary last week."
He wouldn't tell you, but for the entirety of the last forty eight hours, Rafe watched your location. You must've forgotten to stop sharing it with him, so he took advantage of it. He wanted to make sure you were off the island, and somewhere safe — hence the contact with your parents. In reality, he stayed on the island himself in case you didn't get off in time. You would've needed a safe place to land, and he wanted it to be with him.
You sat on the bed, parallel to him, listening to the rain pitter-pattering against the skylight above the two of you. It was dark outside now, and every so often, a gust of wind could be heard from his backyard. Your hair was still wet from being outside, and you started to grow cold — having his sweater on you wasn't enough to keep the heat in.
The two of you were silent, nobody finding the right words to say. It was weird, you thought to yourself, Rafe was a blabber mouth, never shutting up (it was one of the things you loved most about him). You snapped out of the daze you were in when something caught your eye. You glance over, and it's a photo booth strip sitting on Rafe's bedside table. It had pictures of the two of you from the last time you went — both of you were smiling, embracing, and kissing each other.
You picked up the pictures, staring at them. Before any other thought came to your head, tears started to roll down your rosy cheeks. He still cared about you — he still loved you, despite pushing him away. Guilt washed over you, how could you push him away for this long when all he did was try to make things right? You heard stories from others about the way he treated his ex-girlfriends, but he was a completely different man with you. He loved you, unconditionally, you knew that.
You felt yourself sink into the right side of the bed more, and heard Rafe move to the side you were sitting on. The tears started to get heavier, and the sobbing wasn't so quiet anymore. You could feel the blue eyes you loved more than anything staring down at you. "C'mon," Rafe said, "Why're you crying?"
The vibe felt different, you didn't feel judged by him anymore, like you did when you first stepped into his house. "Hey.." He got on his knees in front of you. His hands found their way to your legs, pushing them open so he could get closer to you. He was needy — needy for you. "Hey, c'mon. Don't cry."
You quickly wiped your tears away, sniffling. "I'm fine, leave me alone." You tell him, trying to sound as convincing as you can (though, it came across the complete opposite). Rafe's hand found your forearm, and you shoved him away. You hated being like this in front of him, you thought it made you look weak. "Hey, hey.. why're you crying." Despite your actions, Rafe's hand found your thigh. You could immediately feel the circular motion he was doing, the one he knew helped you calm down. "C'mon."
Despite being on his knees, he was still taller than you, even when he crouched. Your eyes finally met his, and he knew what was racing through your mind. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you broke down crying, more than you had before. "Hey, don't cry baby." Rafe's hand found the back of your neck, holding you closer to his chest. You sobbed, and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
It was times like this where you didn't know how he could've taken you back — you distanced yourself and he let you come back, every time. You had calmed down after a few minutes, but he didn't let go of his embrace. "I'm sorry, please, baby." Rafe begged, "I can't take any longer being away from you." You could feel his grip on you tighten, almost as if he was to let go, you would fly away and be lost in the storm.
You lifted your head from his shoulder, bringing your hands to behind his ears. You held him, rubbing your finger back and forth. Your eyes were so red from all the tears that were spilt, and you could tell Rafe was close — close on showing the same emotion you were. He hated crying, and almost never did it in front of you, but you could see the path the tears had taken while the two of you embraced.
Without speaking, you pressed your forehead against his. His hand found its way to your cheek, and you could feel him staring at your lips. "I don't want to be away from you, Rafe, I never did." The wave of guilt washed over you again, how could you have ever left him? "Then why did you-"
You cut him off by bringing your lips softly to his, moving in motion with him. He immediately kissed you back, as if the last few weeks didn't exist, as if the two of you never spent time away from each other. It was what you needed, and it was what he needed.
The two of you had each other once again, nothing would change that — no matter how stormy the weather was outside. — stormy weather, etta james
Clingy!Needy!JJ
jj maybank x reader
wc: 1,855
The stakes were high. Everything was happening at once. You and JJ were running from the bad guys who were trying to kill you. The place was unfamiliar because you were in Morocco. So you really didn’t know where you were going. It happed so quick but you tripped. JJ looked back and saw you on the ground.
JJ’s heart stopped. He went to you but before he reached you told him to run. “I’m not leaving you.” He crouched down and tried to help you up but before he could the bad guys reached you. You tried to get up and run but you twisted your ankle. The leader of the bad guys reached down and grabbed you by the arm.
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#polls
136K followers419 recent posts
ROUND 2 - Match 243 of 250 - Mangrove Trapdoor vs. White Candle
A wooden trapdoor is a variant of the trapdoor that can be opened and closed by the player without redstone.
A candle is a dyeable block that emits light when lit with a flint and steel. Up to four of the same color of candle can be placed in one block space, which affects the amount of light produced.
Which block is better?Mangrove TrapdoorWhite Candle532 votes • Remaining time: 2 days 4 hoursROUND 2 - Match 242 of 250 - Spruce Log vs. Spruce Trapdoor
A log or stem is a naturally occurring block found in trees or huge fungi, primarily used as a building block and to create planks, a versatile crafting ingredient.
A trapdoor is a solid, transparent block that can be used as an openable 1×1 barrier.
Which block is better?Spruce LogSpruce Trapdoor465 votes • Remaining time: 2 days 2 hours- See more
#enhypen
624K followers249 recent posts
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ （ 𝗦𝗨𝗜𝗧𝗦 ）───────────
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 。。𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗒𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝖽𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌.
- ✿f͟e͟a͟t͟ㅤㅤ𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗒𝖾𝗋 !jay ♥︎ 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 !rea 𝑖𝑛 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝖺𝗐𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 ﹏ humour, romance, fluff !
（ ✉️ ） one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven . . .
- from, malena only two chapters left .. or maybe three if we include a bonus!
ㅤㅤㅤOBJECTIVELY PRETTY,ㅤㅤ𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆.
𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ✿ 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌
𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗥 ❜ park sunghoon × fem ! rdr 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𓈒 fluff domestic ୨୧ playful arguing touch-starved boyfriend apology ◜ᯅ◝ 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡
REBLOG FOR SUNGHOON ❤︎
“I’m just saying the light hits the bridge of my nose differently,” Sunghoon says, lifting the bridge of his nose to admire his reflection in the hallway mirror. He takes a step closer to the glass, adjusting the collar of his new shirt, "it's about the shape, the structure."
ALL WEBBED-UP 𖢥 s.jy
part one of the friendliest neighbour series
WHERE sim jaeyun seems so sad for a spider-man so in love... 𖢥 enha's 심재윤 x fem!reader, wc: 7.5k, fluff, angst, spiderman!au, lots of yearner!jake content warnings: depictions of fight scenes, cursing, lots of overthinking, descriptions of something similar to anxiety/panic attack, reader is referred to as a girl with feminine pronouns
author's note: this is the first part for my first ever series (that isn't a hc) ... this really tested my writing skills bc the fight scenes and the inner monologues were so hard to write . but i think i did the concept justice <33 currently writing part 2 but i think it might be a while before it's out bc i have other wips i want to work on as well !! as always i would love to hear what you think and happy reading my dears <33
[the archive] 𖢥 [series masterlist]
permanent taglist: @angelhyuka, @ikeusnupii, @firstclassjaylee, @kikidoul, @teddybeartaetae, @woninlove, @kammykissez, @flowermoonmay, @wobblymug, @dazzlingjaeyun, @en-muse, @prettygirlthings-world, @miamunequitas very special thanks to the very amazing @courire for being my beta-reader ! cannot express how thankful i am , lots of hugs and kisses <3
⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏ ⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏⠀ ͏˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
Alright, alright. You already know what this is, but there’s nothing wrong with a little refresher, right? So, here it goes...
My name is Jake Sim, and one day, I was bitten by a radioactive spider and woke up with superpowers. And for a little over a year now, I’ve been your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
You probably already know the rest...
I’d say being a superhero is pretty awesome. It’s almost everything you dream about as a kid. Cool suit, saving others, y’know... That kinda stuff.
What you probably don’t know is the part where being a superhero has completely wrecked my love li—
“Oof—“ Jake suddenly groaned, hitting the ground, a car door landing on top of him.
He shoved it off, clutching his side in pain. Jake hauled himself up against the wall of the parking garage he’d apparently just redecorated. Concrete dust thick in the air, and somewhere a car alarm blaring.
A few feet from him, Rhino was saying something—he was always saying something. It was probably another big dramatic monologue about being underestimated, about how tonight was the night everyone was finally going to respect him—and normally Jake would’ve had at the very least four jokes ready to go by now, but tonight he had exactly zero patience for this shit. Because, tonight, Jake Sim had a date.
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