"i'll wait for you as long as it takes maddy." "i wish you wouldn't. you're not gonna fall in love with my crazy ass", she laughs through her tears, letting out a small, broken sob. i gently wrap my arms around her as she cries into my chest, "if i told you i was starting to, it would probably scare you." she doesn't say anything back, she just cries harder as i bring her down with me to lay back on my bed. soon, the sound of her crying fades away and all you can hear is my racing heartbeat and the steady sounds of her breathing. "i wish i met you sooner y/n." -lowercase intended (based on seasons 1-2 of euphoria)

with the help of her teenaged children, y/n plots to get her ex back. based on an imagine from my imagines book gp reader

Catalaya 23, has detached herself from her home life to discover herself and chase her dreams, she doesn't believe she can be loved but will meeting Paris change everything for her?

This feels so wrong, I can't help but think as I'm perched on the edge of her desk, my legs spread wide as my knuckles turn white from gripping the edge so tightly as she sucks and bites at my inner thighs as I whimper. Her hands hold my thighs far apart, biting harder whenever I try to snap my legs shut, ignoring my whimpers for her to stop. I know she's used to doing this but I'm not. Especially not in a place so public as her office. People are almost constantly coming and going from it. I know she locked the door when she pinned me against it earlier and began smashing her lips against mine, slipping her tongue in to play with mine but I'm still anxious that someone will disturb us. My fingers grip into her hair as I pull her face away from my inner thighs, her eyes playfully glancing up at me as she notices the tomato-coloured flush covering my face. "What's wrong, lovely?" She teasingly whispers, her hands continuing to play with my thick thighs. "Come on, tell daddy what's wrong." "I'm not really comfortable..." I utter making her arch a beautiful brow. "Oh, I'm sure when I'm fucking you that'll be the last of your worries," she chuckles, standing up so that she can lean over me as one of her hands slithers around my waist to support me as I lean away from her. Without any warning she rubs her large bulge against me making a muffled moan leave my lips. She kisses and sucks at my neck, definitely going to leave hickeys as I try to resist. "Just relax for me, love. I promise I'll be gentle."For some reason I don't believe her, especially as her fingers begin to roughly rub my sensitive bundle of nerves with a sly smile. "Just enjoy the feeling. I'll make sure to take care of you if you pass out." *** Haelyn doesn't recall anything before she woke up in the middle of nowhere, her body in pain and feeling...different. She has no clue as to what happened to her until she finally can look at her new reflection.

In a world where weddings are but another business transaction, Jennie Kim - the sole heir of her mother's conglomerate - would be remiss, if she acted unreasonably at the notion. Duty is but a lonely road, and she had long been resigned to accept the weight of her name - had she not been wedded off to such a preposterous individual, that went by the name Y/n Morningstar. What's more, it would have been infinitely more bearable, if said individual hadn't been so insufferable at the prospect of it - asymmetrical grins, annoying remarks, and that goddamn accent. Or a forced proximity, arrange marriage, enemies to lovers trope with all of that cliché goodness. :))

"i will take back what's mine with fire and blood, i will take it" and the myths of the seas shall wash it away once you've reclaimed it, that i promise you" [CURRENTLY EDITING ⚠️]

25 year old Y/N goes out to celebrate her birthday and meets a older fine women who may be a little to mature for her. After one night alone Y/N can't seem to let her go and fights to keep her attention.

Roseanne Park could be anything, anywhere, and anyone - sometimes, all three, all at once, on a good day. She might just be the second coming of Christ, if Christ were in stilted heels - YSL, if you please. And if she was smarter, wiser, and a possessor of copious amounts of self-preservation, she could've escaped - as though surviving a car crash - the unyielding intensity of Y/n Brambilla's gaze. She didn't expect much, when she accepted writing a song for the Formula 1 film. A bit blindsided, would be fairly apt. The trappings of that girl were rather peculiar - Taut muscles underneath half undone racing overalls, unbelievable eyes in between helmet slits, and my god, that tousled helmet hair that makes anyone go feral. If they aren't already. It was rather annoying. Roseanne thinks that she could probably write a dozen albums about her. Or The Formula 1 driver x Rosé romcom-ish fic that's birthed from her, coming to Miami grand prix. It's really just purely for self indulgence, if anything.

Angsty, Smutty with a little bit of fluff oneshots about Isabela Merced that are written by me.

Y/n is pretty sure her entire family hates her and her commitment issues are starting to make her life (as well as Sana's) miserable. Minatozaki Sana x G!P reader ©️ Converted story from ao3 writer @ryerim All credits goes to the author. I don't own anything.