#its the same dance to a different song

[charles-leclerc-official]

Maybe i am just uptight but i genuinely think that so many of leclerc's fans (especially the ones on twitter) are too parasocial and feel way too entitled to shit. at first i didn't really mind the comments about the filter on his photos bc i did agree yeah they could look better, but to repeatedly shit on antoine for it (even if jokingly) in spaces where they are known to lurk is a little 😬 i don't know if antoine finds it offensive and i won't be offended for him but the idea of a group of fans being so comfortable with shitting on charles and/or his entourage (yes i am also talking about fans who are vehemently against his facial hair, style, etc) online knowing they probably see it... it's just a massive ick for me. i don't want to claim offense on anyone's behalf bc for all i know they might find it funny and decide to keep doing it just to piss them off but just the entitlement and lack of social courtesy these people have is astounding to me tbh.

because you aren't friends with charles leclerc, not the way he is friends with antoine, joris, or whoever 😭 a lot of fans don't understand this and feel entitled to say whatever they want about charles and his entourage and think it's okay because "it's not that deep"

It's things like this that make me very happy to no longer be on F1twt.

To your point, I think his filter is fine(I don't mind it, I think it's nice, idk as nice as a filter is. I prefer unfiltered pics but that's just me. But the filter isn't ugly ppl are just too up their pwn butt about it) some people just nitpick things to death. It's the same with his clothes or facial hair etc, people want him to appeal to their taste and sense of style or whatever and that really feels like it's ignoring the fact he's a whole grown man who probably likes all those things.

I don't know if there is a specific term for this but I know there's this phenomenon that fans of a piece of media/musician/celeb are far better at also hating because they are so informed on the topic. Haters from the outside don't really know most details so they just say the basic hater shit about something, the real cutting haterism comes from fans because they actually know more.

Now I would say that getting too up in arms over this would stray into parasocialism too(as you said).

I have a very simple policy that I try to follow. If you like a celeb don't say things about them that you wouldn't say about your friend. Not in a parasocial way, but supposedly you like this celeb, so afford them the same courtesy you would as for anyone else you care about. It's just polite. (I guess just be nice to people you don't know who are just minding their own business)

Would you constantly bully a friend over their choice of insta filter? I sure hope not. Not everyone likes the same aesthetics, that's fine.

I feel like people have become very comfortable just saying whatever online because there's this sheen of anonymity, and this goes beyond like just Charles or even F1 social media spaces, people just seem more comfortable being mean in online spaces. It sucks.

You can really tell F1twt is out of things to talk about.

In any case, you don't have to like his choices of aesthetics, but seriously what are you even doing if you don't have something nice to say? I feel like a gradeschool teacher saying this but seriously, why do people think their opinion on this matters? It doesn't. You don't like his insta filter? Do you want a medal? Should we call Jacques Villeneuve?

[bumblebaubles]

repost with what song reads most like poetry to you from ttpd

[oflgtfol]

love this song so much it like rewired my brain

[linogram]

after watching a bunch of covers of chk chk booms last chorus + dance break, im noticing that its so easy for it to just feel... flat to me (for lack of a better word), like the dancing is super great, it just doesnt feel 100% right to me

[snekdood]

personally, i dont see the fundamental difference between deleting your account and making a new one and deleting all your old posts, if we're talking about "running from ones past", then what are you tryna hide there, bud?

[bmpmp3]

and you will listen to my halfway unmixed vocal synth covers. you will. my final message (dies in your arms)

all the virvox guys in voicevox humming! yume no tobira piano ver vsqx by leah ocarina and the instrumental is by 友紀!

[light-wrath-paradise]

4 years ago I heard a song on the radio while working my shift at KFC and it has haunted me ever since and Google thinks the song isn't real and Reddit thinks the song isn't real. This is my existential nightmare.

[hayatheauthor]

Can you post something about different kinds of soulmates? The name on the wrist or red strings are nice but a little overused, maybe. Idk. Do you have anything different?

50 Types of Soulmates in Literature

The soulmate trope might feel pretty cliche to most but I love exploring them (great short story material, esp if you want to twist it into horror/thriller/non romance). Thanks for the ask! I hope this list is what you were looking for: 

Fate-Driven Soulmates

1. Shared Dreams – They meet in their dreams every night/[idea] after they turn [age].

2. Reincarnation– They reincarnate in every era and are destined to meet each time.

3. Aura Bonds – Their auras [change] when they’re near each other.

4. Mirror Messages – They see the other’s face in the mirror when they turn [age].

5. Starbound – Their soulmate’s birth constellation forms on them after their first meeting.

6. Heartbeat Match – Their pulses sync when they meet and get more uneven when they’re apart after that.

7. Shared Memories – They have flashbacks of past lives together.

8. The First Words – Their first spoken words to each other are tattooed on their skin.

9. Fragrance – They recognise each other by a unique scent only one’s soulmate carries (i.e. in the world you can only smell roses on your soulmate).

10. Scars – They have matching scars in the same place since their birth.

11. Colour - They only start seeing colour after meeting their soulmate. Can be changed to sound, touch, smell, etc.

Cultural Soulmates

12. Mehndi Marks - In Indian/Middle Eastern cultures, your soulmate’s name appears in your mehndi/henna.

13. Karmic Threads - In Buddhist traditions, invisible karmic bonds pull them toward one another.

14. Feng Shui Alignment – Their energies perfectly balance according to the Feng Shui elements.

15. Ancestor's Blessing – Their names are revealed through a ritual that summons past ancestors.

16. Name in Flames – In some folk traditions, a fire ceremony reveals their soulmate’s initials in the embers.

17. Feather Match – They exchange feathers that later glow when their soulmate is near.

18. Shared Songlines – In Aboriginal traditions, their paths align on the same Songline.

19. Palm Reading Prophecy – Their soulmate’s features or initials are foretold in their palm lines.

20. Dance of Fate – In certain cultures, a soulmate is revealed during a traditional dance when they naturally pair up.

21. Persian Tea Leaves – Their names appear during tea-reading rituals.

Object-Based Soulmates

22. Lock and Key – Everyone is born with a keyhole shape. When you turn [age] you’re blessed with a key that only fits into your soulmate.

23. Shared Journal – They write in the same journal without knowing how.

24. Twin Trinkets – When born, each person receives a magical [trinket]. Your soulmate has its twin. 

25. Compass of Love – A compass always points them toward their soulmate.

26. Two Halves – They carry two halves of the same [object].

27. Enchanted Maps – A map updates itself with their location when they’re near.

28. Eternal Rings – Rings burn hot or glow when their soulmate is close.

29. Song – When they turn [age] they hear a song sung in their soulmate’s voice. (Interesting: in this world, MC hears nothing. They think they don’t have one, rly their soulmate is just mute). 

Connection Through Nature

30. Tree of Life – Their world has a special garden you go to when you’re [age]. In the garden, a tree starts to grow when two soulmates are near. Note: if they ‘break up’ or one dies, the tree wilts and dies too.  

31. Blooming Flowers – When your soulmate is born, you get a flower bud [different for each]. When you meet the first time, this bud goes into full bloom. If you pass without meeting, it dies. This continues till you actually meet, and the flowers finally [fall off?]

32. Animal Guides – At birth you’re assigned a spirit animal who leads you to your soulmate when the time is right. (Ooh maybe your spirit animals are soulmates too OR hmo: they’re enemies! You haven’t met your soulmate yet because your spirit animals are doing everything to keep you [and themselves] apart). 

33. Shifting Shadows – Their shadows always reach toward the other. When you sleep, your shadows break away and meet each other. 

34. Bound by Seasons – They only meet during a specific season each year. Kind of like a Divergent ‘born into a season’ thing. (But what if a Summer and Winter end up being fated? But they can’t survive in each other’s seasons. [omg Tinkerbell] lol). 

35. Ocean Whispers – It’s said if you go to the ocean’s shore and say something there your soulmate will hear it when they go to the shore. (MC’s soulmate hates the ocean. They’ve never been. One day they finally go, and sit for hours as they listen to messages from their soulmate, who apparently lives by the ocean and has been calling to them every night). 

36. Star-Written Names – When you turn [age] only you see a name written in the stars. That’s your soulmate’s name.

Unconventional Soulmate Tropes

37. Memory Keepers – One soulmate is bound to forget each other in each new life, and the other is fated to remember and find them. The other only remembers if and when they meet. 

38. Parallel Lives – They exist in parallel universes but see glimpses of each other via [plot].

39. Shared Illness – They feel each other’s pain, sickness, and recovery.

40. Shared Mortality – They can only die when they’re together.

41. The Final Wish – When you turn [age] you get to make a wish and your soulmate has to fulfil it in order for you to meet.

42. The Sacrificial Lamb – One is destined to save the other through ultimate sacrifice.

43. The Time Loop – They’re stuck in a loop, meeting repeatedly until they get it right.

44. Dual Souls – They share one soul in two bodies, feeling incomplete without the other.

45. The Undying and the Mortal – One reincarnates endlessly, always finding their soulmate, if they fail to find them, their soulmate will not reincarnate and die forever. Except, you don’t know who’s the immortal one. 

46. Time Stopper: Time stops when you’re with your soulmate. It starts again when you’re apart. 

Sense-Based Soulmates

47. Sight: When you close your eyes you can see what they’re seeing. 

48. Warmth: You feel physically cold everytime you’re without your soulmate. Your heart turns colder every year, till when you’re [age] you both die if you haven’t met.  

49. Colour: You can’t see your soulmate’s eye/hair colour till your first meeting. The issue: they don’t know the colour, so often overlook this change. (Many resort to checking a colour chart every day till they see a new colour). 

50. Touch: You can’t feel anything till your soulmate touches you for the first time. Everything simply feels like its weight, not texture. 

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

Instagram Tiktok

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

taglist: @vent-stink @dazzlingstarrs @vcutparis @xpixie @potatos-on-clouds @showingmafandomlove @bibbleypoof @kpop-will-kill-me @avantalem @beabatiny @gabrielle-brugger @nsixns @amaranth1ne @stayminho @myblovedjyh @kkeshia @rebekah-reads @yoonbroom @4kwp @butterflydemons @iwaizumiismybae @soobinsputnik @stayatinykatsy @atitties @justconniez @kitten4sannie @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @cheolsthicthighs @morethingsfandom @geminiml95 @byuntrash101 @quailbagutte @syubseokie @newworldwritings @urmom26john @sleepy-kat-here @pearltinyy @hjshyhyssnmgwyjh @cursedeastern @starryunho @piratekingateez2001 @jiminbility @paumll @drinkingrumandcocacola @roomsofangel @channies-bbg-room @meanaonthemoon @teeztopia @pommelex @kiln9z @sanhwalvr @youresolivlie @edawg77 @a-0206 @summer-gyu @bvidzsoo @yoongzsmile28 @tournesol155

taglist became too long so find the second taglist here💀 no longer taking requests

11/1/25 update: i apologize for how slow this is taking😭 yes, i still am 100% fully committed to finishing this series! I ask for your patience and understanding🫶🏼

[dilf-docs]

Give Me Coffee, Utah Love

sleazy!joel 'mullet' miller x younger fem!reader

summary: on the run and looking for a fresh start, a cheap gasoline coffee and to-do list slipping from your bag later, you (have lost your mind and) consider this stranger's proposition.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (52/25), pwp, p. in v., fingering, (one) pussy spank, degradation kink, lwk breeding and exhibition kink, nasty filthy sex, public sex, one joke about kys, strangers to ???, pulled an all nighter for this yey me (its 3am and my alarm sounds at 4:10 lol) so forgive me if i made any spelling mistake, i wanna see ur comments/reblogs bc i crashed out so bad i feel like i deserve it

word count: 4,060 words

side note: that one girl who doesn't play abt snl. okay but who works harder? the devil, a7estrellas or me, that only needed two pedro snl sketches and is acting like a yuppie in the 80s doing cocaine on a bathroom after work bc WOW so many new content. yes, men with mullets should die but this is pedro! song of choice for this piece is queen of the gas station by sleazy dilf patroness lana del rey. also up next, renaldo inspired one shot to celebrate the snl 50 series! (update: read it here)

You liked driving at night.

There was simply something about the eerie silence, the shadows casting upon the streets, barely touched by the headlights and the moon, the quiet hum of the radio and the slow shift of your hands on the wheel.

You liked driving at night, but today, it feels off.

Just this morning, you had looked at your house one last time. It still had that white paint on the porch, that had faded due to the sunlight, and those scrapped stickers on what had been your childhood room's door.

He had tried talking some sense in to you, claiming all your life was there, in Arizona. With him. But Phoenix had started to feel like a prison and he was your warden. So you snuck at dawn when no one would notice, like a criminal. Very fitting.

The sun hadn't touched yet the kitchen where you ate when your feet balanced off the chair and now graced the floor in a lazy manner, eating cereal with marshmallows first and now, just about three days ago, just oatmeal, because it seemed like what a grown up would do.

But in many ways you were still the same kid who was too shy to raise her hand in class because she couldn't find her voice, bound to be forgotten among much louder and brigther kids. Yet he had seen you.

So you stayed: put up with dances where he would spin you until the world was reduced to a blur, and the quiet home life in town-- kids running around and barbecues on the summer seemed like a good ending. You dreamed of a truck and a garden, and the few friends you made all seemed to share the same vision. Except for one.

When Dorothea came back from New York, eyes too wide and smile too bright, she seemed like a different person. In many ways she still was the same girl with an accent who had shared her sandwhich with you during recess, but her words now carried ambition and her gaze seemed awoken by a purpose you couldn't find but on the road that drove out of town.

But folks kept her at arms length. The amusement in her smile was infectious as a disease, and with whispered stabs they would talk behind her back. Your friend bore a scarlett letter for wanting more.

You had never wanted more; compliant might of be your second name. But when you'd see her walk by your house, shorts above her knees and that city girl strut with her sneakers against the hot asphalt, you were envious, and Williams seemed so small and dull.

Who does she think she is? he would say, and you'd nod your head, despite the secret admiration hidden in your eyes.

Suddenly, the red truck sounded stupid and the married life with kids could wait.

We could wait, you had said outloud.

He had laughed, like you just told a joke. It was on surprise, but it felt cruel.

Why? like he couldn't understand you-- as if you spoke on a different language. What is there to wait for?

You took your decision that day.

It started slow, by wearing skirts that rode up with the wind, blaming the lack of clothes on the heat. Then with the nicotine between your lips, the forbidden act making clouds that escaped your red lips. Or wearing the other make up Dorothea taught you, now holding hands with her as people whispered she had tainted your naive soul too. He caught your new smell, and spoke harshly about not wearing clothes that made other men turn to eat out the sun-kissed skin of your legs, because you'd turn too, gaze defiant and full of mischief, but that he didn't know. Might as well wear nothin'. But he cried with his face buried in the same uncovered legs, saying he hated to see you like this; he didn't recognize you.

It was easy then.

One day you packed your bags and took the car you'd been given as a graduation gift, leaving town with what seemed a lifetime stashed in the backseat.

You left a note for your parents, neatly placed on a bed you wondered when you'd sleep again in, if you were ever to be back. To him, who you now just start to wonder if you ever really loved or just accepted because it's what there was and nothing more, you hadn't left a note nor explanations.

He wouldn't understand anyways.

Just the promise of what could've been, shining in the middle of your bed.

You had been driving non-stop, afraid like a fugitive who was being chasen. Sometimes, you'd take stops on the road and pulled out a pen and a book, despite your fingers itching from driving and your urgency to check the phone you'd been to coward to turn on to see the wake of messages your disappearance might have sparked.

There was a sting somewhere outside the ache of your bones or the flutter of your tired eyes, and it cried for home and longed for the life you always envisioned for yourself. But it also felt like a second skin you couldn't quite wash off with the cheap soap and cold water of the motel you had crashed in a couple of hours ago.

You didn't want to live in suburban desert dreams back at Williams. You wanted to feel alive.

It's nightime when the little peep sound jolts you awake. You had been driving in auto-pilot; your car needs gas and you needed rest.

Its probably ten at night, and according to your map, Utah isn't that far. It's a fresh start: a place where no one knows your name or your whole life, for the matter.

Your car comes to a stop under faded neon lights in the middle of the road. There's a truck parked next to your car, the guy inside the convenience store, and that's about it. You're filling your tank while suppressing a yawn, when a movement across your station catches your eyes.

The only other customer, a man old enough to be your dad. He's staring at you, leaning against his truck, arms crossed while the biceps flex with the position, tense. Even from your place, you can see how the veins pop here and there, making you gulp on instinct.

The smoke of his cigarrette gets lost in the neon hues and starry sky. Doesn't he know you're not supposed to do that at a gas station? Yet, his lack of care and recklessness picks your interest.

(Hey! The last time you had human contact was about a day ago and after seeing only roads, asphalt, desert and mountains, you deserved a little treat to entertain yourself)

"Like what you see, doll?" sporting the most sleazy smile you'd ever seen.

Something about him was as alluring as uneasy, the nervous tremble of your hands but the warmth between your legs speaking of said conflicting emotions. You pretend to be invested on the task of filling your truck (the reason you're here, after all) but the way your body burns, begs, to look again is humilliating. So you do, but he isn't there anymore, althought his truck is.

"You know, wearin' a dress like that at night isn't a good idea for'a girl like you"

He appears from seemingly nowhere, making you jump. Your heart flutters and you clench at nothing with the sound of his deep voice, low, akin to a rumble or a thunder. It's laced with diversion, and the not so subtle way he eats you out with his eyes like a starved man, wolfish grin on display as he leans now against your car, makes his intentions all the more clear.

"Why?" you feel oddly bold, instead of scared. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, because why the hell would you be flirting in a gas station, at night, entertaining an old and slighlty creepy albeit attractive man when you had been engaged less than a day ago?

"The weather" he appears nonchalant, balancing the cigarrette like a toothpick between his chapped lips. "Or men"

"Bold of you to say that while wearing that" you poke fun at his outfit, which consists of some shorts, worn t-shirt and a vest. He's sporting the tall socks and slippers combo, dressing like a grandpa but he pulls it off alright. "Also, men? Like who, you?"

He laughs, the sound sprouting rich and grave from his chest. It makes you dizzy. Yup, let's blame the lack of sleep again.

"Well, look at that. Sure got'a mouth on ya', doll" he gets closer, and his scent floods your nostrils. Wood, gasoline, musk, sweat and burnt ciggars. "Just takin' care of you. Say, how about ya' warm that shaky frame of yers? This place has sum coffee goin' on. Shit, but it works"

He could poison your drink for all you care, but all his teeth are on display and he's got a dimple. Also, you're fighting your fluttering eyelids in here.

"Y/n" it's your way of agreeing while extending your hand.

Instead of shaking it, he pulls you even closer and kisses it, his warm lips brushing your cold hand. You shiver at the contact, and it may be the way his firey auburn holds your gaze while doing so or how big his hands feel, both your mind and heart racing.

"Joel" he says, and then that same calloused palm finds its way to the soft part above your ass in your back, guiding you to the store.

Inside, it smells like cheap coffee and grease. You clutch your bag tighter, and choose a table as the stranger pays for your coffee, or well, Joel.

"There ya' go" and he places the hot brown liquid in front of you.

Now that he's closer and under the yellow-ish lights, you take a better look at his face. His eyes, which mock the drink in front of you. His hands, that seem to almost swallow the small cup with their size, and then his hair. God, alright. He sported a fucking mullet of all haircuts. And boy, wasn't it embarrassingly attractive? Your eyes fall towards his beard and mustache, grays sprinkled across them. But your mind and eyes alike went back to the thought of feeling the slightly greasy looking hazel strands, calling for your touch.

"Gonna take a sip or what?" and he smiles. You don't know if it's in diversion by your doze-off or because he knows why.

You had never felt this hot and bothered. Hell, not even normal hot. He had never made you feel like this, and now some fucking random skanky man was getting your panties on a twist in the middle of the road.

"I-I'm going to the bathroom" you manage to squeak out, running for your life.

Inside the stall, you splash some water into your face, as if trying to make you react. Get yourself together, you tell your reflection in the mirror, but then you're fixing your hair, and as you reach for your red lipstick you realize you left your bag back at the table. Fuck.

You get out, only to find your bag weirdly sprawled on the seat, the handles centimeters away from falling to the floor. Then, he, who you only see his sturdy back and broad shoulders, crouched down, like he's reading something, althought Joel doesn't seem the type of guy who chooses to read in his free time.

"Joel?"

And then you see it: the tiny notebook you had been scribbling on the road, looking even smaller on his grip.

Your To-do list.

It may sound stupid, but a week before leaving, you bought it: the last memory of your town and the start of your new life. At twenty-five, the concept may sound a little stupid with what you've written, but you felt your new life deserved to have space for some of those dreams or fleeting thoughts you had during class written down.

And now fucking Joel was reading it.

"Wow, doll. Ya' sure are full of surprises" he chuckles, flipping through the pages. What sounds better: killing him or yourself? Hmm, maybe throwing the burning coffee at him would suffice.

"Give me that back" you extend your rigid hand, voice clipped.

The stupid trail of decisions catches up to you. Why had you trusted a stranger that had oggled you right in front of your face? You're too starved and horny to think straight, clearly, because now he's mocking you while your face burns with red shame.

"Saved your bag from fallin' when ya' rushed outta da seat. Then this lil' thing came out" he stops on a page. "Skinny dipping. And'ere I thought you're a good girl"

"Shut up and give me that" you seethe.

"Wow, doll" Joel chuckles yet again. "don't get yer panties in a twist. If ya' wanted so, jus' ask"

You scoff at his boldness. "Excuse me?"

"Ya' heard me" he gets up from his seat, body towering over yours.

Was it hot in here? Why was your body warm all of the sudden? Was it the coffee? No, you hadn't even take a sip. Joel searches before looking at you again with a content gaze and an ugly smug grin, like he's used to having his way.

"Sex with a stranger" then searches for other, the sound of the pages the only other sound in the room, still not overpowering the one of your heart, echoing in your ears. "Sex in a bathroom"

He closes the little book and hands it back to you. You take it with force, ears burning at their tip. "So?"

"Funny" he muses. "I can help you with both"

Your head drops back against the cold wall as Joel's lips find your collarbone.

This was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Of all the decisions you've made in your life, this one is either the worst or the best. Fuck, you hadn't even arrived at Utah and could cross two things from the book.

His kiss is rushed, rough and sloppy, sucking on your lips so hard you feel them swollen and bruised. Joel's tongue then pokes inside your mouth, to taste your insides and all of you more deeply, content with the savor of your sweet mouth and gloss smeared across his own. It isn't often that he gets a chance like this: sure, casual sex is like breathing for him at this point in life, where he's made it too far without building a home for a wife. But now, here? You, this pretty young thing, the small whimpers coming out of your lips, how you squirm under his frame and groping hands that travel through a body he can't get enough of. Shit, he ain't young anymore but he's painfully hard and can't stop his task despite his aching joints and age. Joel just wants to taste all of you forever, despite the shit place and rather funny circumstances:

You both, strangers, in an dirty dark alley behind a gas station, about to fuck.

He's pressing his knee tightly between your thighs, the same one you had spotted before thanks to his shorts. His strong grip pins your hand above your head, rendering you immobile under his weight, that presses over you. Shit, you should be thinking this through and running away, but the complete submission and reckless choice makes it all the more hot.

Your throat works up soft, needy noises and Joel marvels at the sounds.

"Keep 'em comin', doll. Wanna know I'm makin' you feel good"

His lips leave lazy wet trails across your skin. The skirt of your dress is raised by his leg and pressed knee.

"Hmh, Joel-" you needily whimper.

"Shh" he swallows a moan with his mouth, "but jus' for me, doll. Keep it low, will ya'? Or want the whole place knowin' what a dirty slut ya' are? Fuckin' with da first stranger that looks yer way?"

You had never been degraded, less thought it would turn you this much on.

"Joel" you whimper his name.

He groans into your mouth, lewd tongues tangling and tasting the messy kiss with fiery passion and hate. Your fingers fist into the thick material of his vest, nails about to ruin it, but by the way his eyes darken and he smiles, Joel might be into it.

The man pulls away for breath, a string of saliva connecting you two.

His hand gropes your ass and then moves to your exposed inner thigh.

"What'a dirty girl" your fingers hook into his worn-out jeans, tugging the peaking waistband forward to you. His weight and chest push into you, "so wet and eager for this dick, you cockhungry whore"

To prove his point, his thick fingers rub your clit through the material of your panties. You tilt your head back in pleasure at the newfound sensation, and he takes the chance to mark your exposed neck and collarbone, making you moan his name when he sinks his teeth on the skin.

"All 'tis for me?" and his fingers fingers slink down to trace your folds again. Your back arches, breasts pressing against his chest. You dig your nails on his broad back, making him hiss with pleasure as you grab for support.

His rough digits slide and push your sticky panties aside, then plunge inside your pussy. You whimper quietly, the squelches of your pussy swallowing his fingers the only sound in the dark, aside from the busy road ahead. The calloused pad of his thumb circles your sensitive nub, pressing and massaging as his lips travel down to the valley of your tits.

"Wanna free this bad girls and taste 'em" he pulls down your dress, mouth practically watering at the rosy soft skin. "Fuck, doll. No bra? Ya' were lookin' for this, ain't you? Makin' the job easy. I'm just'a lucky man"

He wants to see how they bounce with each thrust, eyes darkening with the shade of lust.

"I- Fuck"

Joel's fingers thrust in and out at with a rapid pace and delicious movements you had never been pleasured before with. Now, when he curls them? That nearly sends you over the edge, reaching a spot you had never known existed.

"S'tight" he groans at your clenching warm sticky walls, fingers slowing but still moving as you ride out your high, drenching him in your liquids.

"Found sum sugar for that shit tastin' bitter coffee, eh?" he takes his own fingers on his mouth and sucks on them with a rather obscene gesture, taking them out with a loud pop. His tongue licks what's left off, and you whimper at the lewd image. "Yer too sweet, doll. Can't get 'nough"

Your arms wrap around him, as Joel rolls his hips, seeking friction to relieve him of the uncomfortable strain against the denim.

"Ready to take me in, doll? I'll just warn ya' somethin'" his free hand unbuckles his belt and tugs down the jeans and boxers down, dick in display: hard, and leaking with precum. He drags his teeth against your ear, and his hot breath ghosts over you with coffee and ciggars. "See that? Think ya' can take it?"

The tuft of sweaty hair leading down to his length has you salivating, and your fingers wrap around him before you realize it. Joel winces at the touch.

"Like a champ" and you swear his erection throbs in your palm, head angry and needy.

What a gentleman.

He doesn't wait for more words, teasing your moist folds with his tip before he's inside, buried to the hilt, rough fingers steady bruising your hips as he thrusts you up against the wall. You look up at the flickering lampost, wondering how did you ever made it here and what the hell are you doing, his groans deep inside your ear as his head is buried in the crook of your neck, labored breaths against your ablazed skin. For a moment, he looses the spot and favors looking at you, to take in the sight infront of him: mouth slightly gaped open, eyes lidded, and fingers desperately digging into his back. You're fucked out of your mind, but so is he.

"Like what you see?" you mimick his words from earlier. He lets out a dry and labored chuckle.

"I do"

He snaps his hips, and you're not sure what is it that creaks, too many things happening outside (the cars, the whiff of gasoline, the nocturnal wind). Joel soon takes up an erratic pace. He's so deep in you, his balls slams into your pussy with each thrust he forces into you.

You should start writing more things on that notebook if they would become true and as good as this. Earn a ridiculous sum of money for free, for example.

Joel grunts, hands busy holding you against the wall, but he so badly wants to play with your bouncy tits, so you let out a yelp when his wet tongue rolls over the skin, mouth then sucking the skin until it's bruised, kissing lazily around your hardened nipples until teeth bite on them.

He's going insane; should go more often late night driving if he'd end up fucking pretty naive sweet-tasting girls behind alleys.

His cock fills you so perfectly it doesn't take long before your walls are spasming around his cock, and you're about to cum for a second time, before on his fingers now over his girth inside of you. Joel can sense it, so his filthy mouth goes for it:

"Go on, doll. Show me what yer made of"

You fall apart with a sharp cry, face buried into his shoulder with a bite to muffle it.

He groans as the pleasure rolls through you. "Milk me dry, c'mon. Take all of ma' seed like the slut ya're" Joel speaks while moving inside you, deeper and quicker, aching for release. Then he's pulsing, cumming with a harsh grunt. "Don't waste a drop, doll. I know you're considerate jus' like that"

His hands slide down to your waist, his long hair drenched, sticking to his forehead. There's the silence of the night and your breaths as you try to compose yourselves.

"That's a good girl" while softnening cock still inside you.

"See? Told you: took you like a champ" you pant, trying not to think of what lead you to now, just focused on the high. "I like to keep my promises"

Joel laughs, but its a soft sound; light. It caresses your chest like a wind chime.

He then pulls out, your folds a mess and his dick coated with your juices. "Shit, look at ya' hungry pussy, doll. Wore me the fuck out"

You help him pull up his pants, looking at the socks while you contain a laugh. Then you think again and the alley pulls you out of your post sex haze. Yeah, filling those two checkboxes in your To-do list will feel good as fuck, but:

Now what?

"Joel?"

"Hmh?"

He pulls up your dress to cover your tits when the wind brushes through the alley, with a weird softness to him, then fixes your panties, giving your clothed pussy a weak slap that sends a shiver through your body.

"Thanks for the treat. I'ont remember orderin' desert"

You laugh as you push him off your body, refusing to meet his eyes. This is the second man who has seen you naked, and while definitely not good at words, his wolf-like hunger in his brown eyes and needy mouth besides the hard dick have said more than enough. Besides, it's a little late to be embarrased but you're still trying to process this wild huge leap you took to celebrate the start of your new life.

"Drive safe" you mutter, starting to walk away, thinking how the hell you'll survive the two hours left in the orad with such a sticky pair of panties and sweaty body.

"Where you goin'?" his deep voice stops you before you've reached the end of the alley.

"Utah" you answer in a beat, heart beating dangerously fast.

The same sleazy smile from the first time you saw him adorns his handsome face, all teeth in display.

"Really, doll? Well, lucky you" he lights up a cigarrette, trail of smoke condensing in anticipation. "'Cause that's jus'bout where I'm headed"

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Cascada - Everytime We Touch 2005

"Everytime We Touch" is a cover song by German Trance and Eurodance trio Cascada, taken from their 2006 debut album of the same name. It was arranged and produced by the band's DJs, Manian and Yanou. The writing and composing credits were given to Maggie Reilly, Stuart MacKilliop, and Peter Risavy, as the song borrows the chorus from Reilly's 1992 single of the same name. Listen to it here!

The song was met with generally positive reviews from critics, with the majority of them praising its dance-pop sound and its potential appeal to the American market. It has enjoyed chart success in many countries, lasting more than twenty-three weeks in different territories. It peaked in the number one position in Ireland and Sweden while attaining top five chart positions in Austria, France, Germany, and the UK. It reached number ten on the US Billboard Hot 100.

"Everytime We Touch" received a total of 89,7% yes votes!

[havenhyunjin]

make up artist — hyunjin

You were doing your best to keep things professional, for the sake of your employment status but mostly because Hyunjin made you beyond nervous. He was a menace, licking his lips as he stared at you, gracing his fingertips against yours on so-called accidents, complimenting you and then your work in that order every time, all while being drop dead gorgeous. word count: 2.6k

warnings: mature, explicit sexual content ahead. 18+ only please! makeup artist afab reader, consensual but forbidden workplace relationship; unprotected consensual sex (be responsible); fingering, dirty talk, creampie.

a/n: this is the consequence of 17 minutes of watching hyunjin get his makeup done. sorry not sorry lol <3

————————————————————————

Painting on a beautiful face was a different form of art than those typically recognized. Everyone could commend an artist for a mural, a sculpture, a song, a dance, but not many would commend a makeup artist in the same way. Today, while you wouldn’t deny every craft had its degree of difficulty, you demanded recognition for the challenges of your own work.

You’d like to see every artist do their job correctly while staring into the eyes of the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen in your life. At this point, you should be used to doing Hyunjin’s makeup, but it has only progressively gotten worse.

At first you believed that he really was just attentive and present when someone did his makeup, engaging in conversations and piercing his eyes into them. It started being apparent that it wasn’t the case when you were doing someone else’s makeup when he was in the room and he still wouldn’t stop staring at you. And it was plain obvious when he specifically requested you to be his makeup artist on Stray Kids’ world tour.

You were doing your best to keep things professional, for the sake of your employment status but mostly because Hyunjin made you beyond nervous. He was a menace, licking his lips as he stared at you, gracing his fingertips against yours on so-called accidents, complimenting you and then your work in that order every time, all while being drop dead gorgeous.

You were addicted to the game only he was playing, because you didn’t think you could reciprocate without turning incoherent or embarrassing yourself. But Hyunjin knew what kind of effect he had on you, and he was entertained by it.

The game was just beginning, as he opened his hotel room for you with the entire makeup kit.

“Hi, my favorite artist,” Hyunjin smirked and immediately went to grab your bags from your hands. You just blushed and walked inside thanking him between your breath, and leading towards the standard hotel desk and chair for you to get to work on him.

Doing his makeup in his hotel room had never happened before, but an individual morning schedule brought you here at 7am. You knew it was a bad idea, and your heart was beating out of your chest already, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t exciting at the same time.

You diligently set your makeup station as Hyunjin sat down and began making small talk that you half heartedly were replying to.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, with a wicked smile that told you he knew exactly what was wrong.

You chuckled it off, and simply began applying moisturizer to his face, nearly wincing at how electrifying touching his skin was every time.

He had his game face on immediately, staring daggers into your eyes. Slowly but surely, as you started pressing his foundation into his face, he started staring at other parts of you.

It was your lips first, and you couldn’t help but bite on them, even if it made things worse. At some point, Hyunjin’s small talk subsided and he started examining your hair. You didn’t really have time to do it in the morning, loose wavy hair falling over your shoulders, and he tugged on a little strand and curled his fingers around it. He constantly brushed his fingers over your collarbone, just torturing you with his games.

Concealer and eyeshadow went on him on pure muscle memory, attempting to ignore the way his eyes were now staring at your entire body frame up and down. The stakes of the game got higher as Hyunjin slowly moved his hands to your waist, which you made no effort to avoid or take off of you.

The tension was palpable, the air thick with your heavy breathing as both of his hands rested ever so slightly under your shirt right at your hips.

“You are so pretty, have I ever told you that?” he said, the fakest innocent doe eyes you’d ever seen looking up at you as you added blush on his cheekbones.

“You call me pretty girl all the time,” you laughed softly, almost rolling your eyes.

“Because you are,” he motioned you closed with his hands, your face nearing his even more, making your job grabbing setting powder harder.

“Hyune, let me finish,” you whispered, stammering over your words and stretching to reach for the powder puff, but he grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he traced circles on your waist touching the skin directly and stood up from the chair, towering over you.

You should want him to stop, you should get away immediately, and you should not want him as badly as you do. But fighting the way your body was yearning for him for months now was proving more, and more impossible.

You didn’t reply, but you set your hands on his arms tentatively, unsure of everything but the fact that you wanted him close.

He smiled down at you and tucked your hair behind your with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “So pretty,” he whispered, as he graced your cheek with his knuckles, making you blush furiously.

“Let me kiss you, pretty girl,” he pleaded with his thumb ghosting over your lip. You were mute, not out of hesitation but disbelief that this was actually happening, but you leaned into him slowly.

Hyunjin understood your consent and closed the space between you two, enveloping you into a mix of a sweet and lustful kiss. As he let your hand go, both of his hands set on your waist once again, gripping it tighter and pressing his body against yours, molding himself into you and your lips.

Your own hands flew to the nape of his neck and just allowed him to take the lead for you, finally letting go and giving in to your true desires.

He felt how you relaxed in his arms, and smiled into the kiss. “So sweet, pretty girl,” he hummed into your mouth, making you smile back at him.

The kiss got deeper, rougher, and you were drunk off the way Hyunjin was guiding you into it all. As he walked you two to the bed in the middle of the room, and sat you down on his lap to straddle him on the edge of the bed, you were the one to start the kiss once again.

“Do you want this, pretty?” he pulled away to ask, pressing his forehead against you. As you hummed in response and tried to kiss him again, he stopped you. “I need words,” Hyunjin insisted, and you reflexively said yes out loud. He was amused at your excitement, and his own, really. You were surprised at how pliant and willing you were to something so forbidden, but bending the rules proved to be exhilarating.

Although he wanted to take his sweet time with you, he was painfully aware of time constraints before he had a photoshoot to attend. He knew he could have more time later, and he laid you down next to him, looking at you for approval to pull the zipper of your jeans down. “Please,” you mumbled back, crazy with the stimulation on your neck through his love bites.

His hand made his way over your cunt over your already soaked panties, tracing a line over your slit as he kissed you deeply. You were moaning nearly uncontrollably, having a semblance of shame at how desperate you were for Hyunjin before anything truly happened.

He pulled your panties aside and rubbed his middle finger over your leaking hole, up to your clit. It had you squirming and whining, but not once did he stop kissing your mouth like a man starved.

As a first finger slid inside of you, you gasped and gripped Hyunjin’s shirt, and he was loving every second of your reaction to his moves.

“Even your little sounds are pretty,” he said as he began tracing kisses into your neck once again.

Soon enough, a second finger was inside of you, scissoring them into you and increasing the pace.

“You’re taking it so nicely,” he continued to praise and all you could do still was whimper his name like music to his ears. It was then that you decided to move your hands down to his crotch. When you touched him over his own sweatpants, you realized how hard he was and you were relishing on it.

Hyunjin groaned as you touched him, and grinded himself in your hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace.

“Fuck, Hyune,” you cried into his neck, trying to still pleasure him with your hand as your own pleasure got a little bit too much.

At that, he positioned himself over you, spreading your legs to fit between them as he pulled his sweatpants down enough to free his leaking red cock. Hyunjin wanted you so badly it hurt, and he needed you right then and there. He’d wanted this ever since he laid his eyes on you, and as you were under him in his bed half naked and willing to take him, he knew he needed to make it worth your while.

“You still want this, pretty girl?”

“I want you so, so bad, Hyune,” you whined in an intoxicatingly sweet voice to him, holding his face in your hands as he began to press his cock over your cunt.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Hyunjin grinned as he kissed you over and over again.

“Baby please,” you pleaded against his lips and it made him completely give in to you. He would give you anything at this point, beginning with pushing into you slowly.

As you adjusted to him, sighing in relief, he started to moan your name making you feel heaven.

Every single feeling was heightened, from the toe curling sting of him inside of you, to how dirty it was to fuck someone you were strictly forbidden from even looking at. It only worked to excite you, not deter you in any way. How could you not feel wanted and desired, if Hyunjin was willing to risk so much just for a single night with you?

Hyunjin had his eyes closed, overwhelmed at the tight, warm feeling around him, but also drunk off the feeling of finally getting the girl. He never thought it would happen this way, but finally taking you after months of picturing it every night as he pleasured himself was every bit as wonderful as he thought it would be and then some more.

He bottomed inside of you, groaning in your ear with his forearms holding his weight over you.

You moved to take his shirt off, every part of you burning with more desire for more skin. As he helped tug his shirt off, he pulled yours down, enough to have your breasts out for him to touch.

You couldn’t believe how vocal you were being, considering this wasn’t supposed to happen and should be secretive, but every single thing that Hyunjin did with your body brought out a primal reaction from you.

He thrusted into you fast and hard, satisfying the desperate need both of you felt to be close. It was raw and rough, but you both clearly liked it just that way. He fucked you like he never would touch you again, timing his hard thrusts consistently as he watched your tits bounce below him.

“You’re doing such a good job, pretty. So tight,” he moaned, hushing your desperate, incoherent moans. “You can do it, baby, you can take it,” he demanded as he gripped your waist to fuck you impossibly harder with your legs spread wide open for him; a perfect display of how willing you were for anything he wanted to do to your body.

“Do you feel how deep my cock is inside you, pretty?” he teased, a wicked grin in his face watching your reaction to every single brutal thrust, feeling himself close and closer to release just by staring at your face contorted in pleasure.

You only nodded, gripping the sheets below you and even harder as Hyunjin moved one hand to stimulate your clit with his thumb at a painstakingly slow pace contrasting his fucking.

“You look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, baby,” he kept sweet talking you, never relenting in his hip and hand moves. At that point, you felt your orgasm closing in on you, crying out at the stimulation of just the right spot.

Hyunjin noticed, and his fingers on your clit only worked faster to make you cum first. His dirty talk along with his face would’ve been enough anyway.

“Give it to me, baby. Cum all over my cock, milk it with that tight, pretty pussy,” he leaned down to catch your mouth on a wet, sloppy kiss, still not once relenting on the intensity of his fucking.

Soon enough, you were seeing stars behind your eyes, wrapping your legs around Hyunjin’s waist and scratching his back in the process. The orgasm was the most intense you’d ever had, and it didn’t subside as he fucked you harder through it to reach his own.

With your eyes rolled back, mouth wide open, tits out for him, hair disheveled and your pussy spasming around him, Hyunjin reached pure ecstasy. He painted ropes inside you, and while panting in between messy kisses all over your face, you suddenly became aware of the time.

Gasping, and trying to pull away, Hyunjin shushed you immediately.

“It’s fine, pretty girl. You only have to do my lipstick now,” he smiled down at you, trying to set your hair straight, and relishing in the feeling of being inside you a couple seconds longer.

“Hyune, you have to go,” you gushed, fixing your bra and shirt back on, the adrenaline of the forbidden rising back up.

Hyunjin pouted, but agreed as he pulled out and fixed his sweatpants. You scrambled up, but he didn’t let you until he found your undergarments and worked gently to put them on you again, and you found it sweet until you noticed his evil plan.

He pumped his cum back inside your cunt with his fingers, making you shriek at the overstimulation, before he slid your panties up. Pressing one mischievous kiss to your thigh, he also pushed your jeans on and promised himself he’d be back to taste you and undo you under him once again.

The realization was hitting harder and harder for you, blushing furiously as you ran to your makeup kit to try to fix whatever mess you made yourself on Hyunjin’s face.

Grabbing the setting powder and working on record time, Hyunjin kept praising you and making your job the worst it’s ever been. It didn’t help that you knew what he looked like fucking you now.

“You’re even prettier all fucked out, baby,” he kept teasing, feeling you up and biting his lips, because truly who could gave enough of you?

“Hyune, please focus,” you pleaded mortified, grabbing the lip tint and gloss from your stand and clumsily dropping one of them in the process.

He beat you to picking it up, and handed it to you gently, smiling.

“I really liked it, pretty girl. Did you like it?” he let you go to let you apply the rose lip stain on his lips diligently, albeit almost shaking.

“You know I did…” you reassured him, as if your moaning or red face wasn’t enough proof.

“Let’s do it again, pretty?” he asked, stealing a kiss from you before you began to apply gloss.

Flustered and feeling hot once again, you just cursed him between your teeth but smiled, which told him everything he needed to know.

You definitely needed a raise, and you demanded recognition for your hard work as an artist. No one else would’ve pulled it off like you did, and Hyunjin wanted no one else either way.

[promiscuousg1rl]

how not to — rafe cameron

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you and rafe are over, you've been over. and although he was the one who chose to end your relationship, he's also the one who can't seem to leave you alone and let the relationship go.

note: this is based off the song how not to by dan & shay!

You should be used to seeing him by now. Wheezie has been taking ballet classes at this studio for almost a year now and you are one of her instructors after all.

But for the last two months she was always coming in with her older brother in tow instead of her parents, claiming that Rafe had gotten stuck standing in as "dance brother" because they couldn't make it.

You believed it at first. You knew Mr. and Mrs. Cameron were busy people and work related responsibilities came up a lot. However when Wheezie got into her talkative moods and expressed how glad she was that Rafe offered to be her permanent chauffeur, you became skeptical.

Now you knew Rafe loved his little sister to pieces but if there was one thing he was never willing to do? It was sitting up at a dance studio surrounded by a bunch of middle-aged women bragging about theirs daughter's grand jeté being better than everyone else's.

And yet here he is, walking Wheezie in with a smile so big it made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

"Hey y/n!" Wheezie wears an identical smile to Rafe's, fully prepared for class in her light pink leotard and tights.

You stand up from the receptionist desk. "Hi wheezie," you reply. "Today we're going to be in studio B, go ahead and put your things in your locker."

She gives you an eager nod before skipping past you and to the back.

As soon as she's out of your line of sight you sit back down and do your best to make yourself look busy. A part of you hopes he'll choose to leave but as he continues to stare down at you from the other side of the desk, you know its wishful thinking.

"So," he says with that usual drawl to his voice. "How've you been?"

You still before slowly glancing up at him. You despise how good he looks in his backwards-facing baseball hat and Carolina blue UNC t-shirt. Did he somehow get beefier in the last few weeks?

"Uh, I've been good Rafe," you mutter. "How about you?"

Propping his arms atop of the counter, large biceps bulging beneath the hem of his short sleeves, he shrugs. " 'Been hanging in there."

You nod.

It was bizarre to think about how much a break up can change things. This was someone whose ear you used to talk off 24/7. He was a best friend to you before a lover and the one person you told everything to. That was all over now; you're nothing more than two strangers engaging in a boring conversation.

As much is it hurt you, you had to remember that it was his doing. It was his decision to end things with you after two years together.

"I must've missed you at Sarah's party the other night."

You wonder if he actually thinks this whole naive facade will work on you. Especially since you're more than sure that he was fully aware that you declined Sarah's invitation and why you declined it in the first place.

It was him; the reason why you refuse to step foot on Tannyhill. Even when Rose begged you to give Wheezie private lessons on the estate, you politely said no. You just couldn't do it. It was hard enough living in the same town and trying to avoid him; and the only reason you were able to was because of your differing tax brackets.

You were a pogue and after the break up you couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that you resided on the Cut.

Work was also something you looked forward to because him dropping off and picking up Wheezie was rare.

Or at least, it used to be.

"No you didn't," you give him a blank stare. "I didn't go."

"Because of me?"

You sigh. "Rafe..."

You rise from your seat and go to make your way towards the studios. The sight of you leaving practically sends him into a panic, he rounds the desk and softly grabs your sweater-covered wrist in his hand.

"Look you don't have to do that okay?" His face is pinched with guilt. "You don't have to avoid me o-or stop hanging out with my sister because—"

Your scoffs cuts him off and he furrows his brows in confusion.

That expression alone has your skin getting hot. Is he serious?

"Did you not tell me, verbatim, to "get the hell out of your life" and that you were tired of being smothered by me? Are those not the words that came out of your mouth?"

Rafe combs a hand through his hair. "I...yes okay I said some shitty things but it was just that, bullshit. I didn't mean any of it, alright?"

You glare up at him, yanking your arm from his grasp. "And here we go with the excuses."

"It's not an excuse, y/n. I was fucked up because of all that shit going on with the guys, I took it out on you—"

"Like always," You shake your head. "You let them get into your head, and like always, I became collateral damage. It was fuck my feelings as long as," you take a quick glance around, bringing your voice down to a whisper. "Topper and Kelce gave you the validation you were looking for."

Rafe looks down in shame, swallowing hard.

You thought he was past that stage in his life, caring what people thought of him and your relationship. Apparently you were wrong.

"I just don't get it," you feel stupid as tears well up in your eyes. "If I wasn't good enough for you to choose me, then why can't you just leave me alone?"

“I made a mistake yn,” Rafe shuffles in place, working up the courage to meet your eyes again. He regrets it as soon as he takes in the tears in yours eyes. He hates himself for making you cry, it makes him think of the promise he broke. The one where he said he’d never hurt you and couldn’t imagine ever doing so. But he was a destructive bastard who was only capable of breaking things; hurting those closest to him. It was in his nature.

And yet, despite being fully aware of who he was and everything he was capable of, he couldn’t find it in himself to let you go. Not when he still thinks about every minute of everyday. Yeah it was contradicting; he made his choice and he should be the one who’s strong enough to walk away and move on. However the thought of you no longer being in his life terrifies him more than anything else.

 “I just wanna fix it.”

“You can’t,” You say, turning away from him. “So please, let this go. Let me go.”

[jaylalolz]

ROCKSTAR!nicholas x FAN!reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, in the crowd, Nicholas spots a girl and can’t take his mind off of her. he invites her to the back when the show is over.

A/N, thank you all for the support, angels!! have fun reading🪽

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

The lights were dimmed just enough to cast a seductive haze over the room, while the pulsing energy of the crowd throbbed in sync with the music. Nicholas stood at the center of the stage, his guitar slung low across his body, microphone in hand, as he belted out the final verse of the song. The sweat on his brow shimmered under the spotlights, his voice raw and electric, sending waves through the tightly packed audience.

But despite the roaring energy of the crowd, Nicholas's focus had narrowed down to one girl standing near the front, her wide eyes fixed on him. From the moment he'd stepped on stage, he’d noticed her—a striking beauty, lost in the music, swaying with the rhythm like she belonged in the heat of the moment. Their eyes met, and Nicholas couldn’t look away. He liked the way she held his gaze, unblinking, as if she were daring him to come closer.

Throughout the set, he made a point to lock eyes with her, teasing her with subtle winks as he growled the lyrics into the mic. Each time, he saw her blush slightly, a coy smile tugging at her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He could feel the magnetic pull between them, a silent promise written in the glances they exchanged. Nicholas had felt the rush of a live show a thousand times before, but tonight, the game was different. The girl had him hooked.

As the song reached its climax, Nicholas stepped back from the mic, his chest heaving, the applause deafening. With a sly grin, he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, slid it between his lips, and flicked the lighter open. The flame danced for a moment before igniting the end of the cigarette. He took a long, slow drag, exhaling the smoke in a way that seemed designed to draw her attention even more. His eyes never left hers.

Bending forward, he hopped down from the stage in one smooth motion, the cigarette dangling from his fingers. The crowd parted slightly, curious but not interfering, as Nicholas made his way toward her, his presence commanding the room. When he reached the girl, he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, the scent of smoke and sweat swirling around them.

"Meet me in the back when the show’s over," he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down her spine.

He pressed the cigarette into her mouth, his fingers brushing against lips for a brief second. she then blows the smoke into his face. She could feel the heat radiating off him, her heart skipping a beat as his lips barely grazed the shell of her ear. Before she could react, he pulled away, winking at her once more with that signature smirk, before turning back toward the stage, leaving her standing there breathless, cigarette in hand, her pulse racing as she watched him walk away.

The rest of the set felt like a blur, but every time she looked up, there he was—his eyes finding her again, that same dangerous gleam in his gaze. The music hit harder, the lights flashed brighter, but the only thing she could focus on was the promise of what was waiting for her once the show was over.

Nicholas knew she’d come. He could see it in the way she held onto the cigarette like it was something sacred, her cheeks flushed, her breath uneven. The game had been set, and the night was only just beginning.

────୨ৎ────

rusning the door open, she stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The noise from the stage area grew fainter as she walked deeper into the back, the scent of sweat, smoke, and something intoxicating filling the narrow space. A few crew members passed by, giving her quick glances but saying nothing. It felt like time had slowed, the air thick with tension.

Then she saw him.

Nicholas stood leaning casually against the wall, his leather jacket hanging off his shoulders, one boot propped against the brick, a cigarette once again dangling between his lips. He looked up as soon as she appeared, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He looked exactly like he had on stage-dangerous, confident, and every bit the rockstar.

"You came," he said, his voice low and gravelly as he pushed off the wall and moved toward her.

Her breath caught in her throat as he approached, his eyes locked on hers like she was the only thing in the room.

When he stopped in front of her, he plucked the cigarette from her fingers, taking a slow drag before flicking it to the side. The heat from his body was close now, intoxicating, and she felt her pulse quicken as he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You kept it," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he tilted his head, his lips just inches from hers.

"Good girl."

She swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribcage as his fingers grazed the side of her face, sending waves of warmth through her skin. The dim lighting made his features even sharper, his eyes dark with something that made her knees feel weak. She could hardly breathe.

Without another word, Nicholas leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear in a whisper. "I've been thinking about you all night."

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. The thrill of his closeness, the heat of his breath against her skin-it was too much. She turned her head slightly, her lips just barely grazing his, and that was all the invitation he needed.

In an instant, he closed the space between them, his mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that was hungry, reckless, and full of everything they hadn't said. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing hers back against the cool wall. The contrast of the hard brick and his warm, demanding touch sent her head spinning.

The kiss was wild, unrestrained.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Nicholas's lips curled into that signature smirk of his. He ran a thumb along her swollen bottom lip, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke.

"Let's see if you can keep up."

In a dimly lit room, she found herself on top of him in a couch.

Nicholas wasn't holding back, and neither was she. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and when she opened her mouth for him, the taste of smoke and desire mingled, setting her senses on fire. His hands roamed her body, exploring her curves with a confidence that sent shivers down her spine.

They both pant for dear life as he unzips his pants. “Tell me you want this” he says.

“I want it”

He bunches up her clothes with one hand and grips his dick with the other. He places his tip against her, keeping his gaze fixed on the touch. Feeling him drive into her was a moment of joy, she holds the side of his neck and lowers herself slowly. She sinks as far as she can, her lungs whimpering; he clenches his teeth and takes both her hips with brutality. She throws her head back as his tongue grazes her throat and her hips begin a steady, grinding bounce. They both groan quietly. She desperately rocks her body and grabs the back of his head.

"Fuck…just like that." His hands gripping her ass and supporting her as she rocks, he pants into her jaw. Breathing near his ear, he roughly tugged at the hair at the back of her head. Ecstatic nerves tingle through her body.

With a weak jaw, she pulls away from his side and stares down at him. He grips her face to keep her staring down at him. His gaze lingers on her features, noting her growing vulnerability.

A arrogant grin slides down his mouth. "You should see how pretty you are right now..." He kisses on her cheekbones while exhaling deeply. "Desperately riding me in slutty dress,"

Her hands move down his chest, causing his gaze to flicker before focusing on his pronounced abs. He scowls, gritting his teeth, and tosses his head back in a grunt. She tightened her hold on his sides and gazed down at his well sculpted body. His appearance is surreal.

they groan and pant at one another. Despite the hurry of it all, their bodies function flawlessly together in the middle of this chaos. "Fuck, Nicholas I'm going to," she says as she grinds her hips once more and grabs his bare side and back of his neck. "Yeah?" Breathing out, he looks up at her and asks, "You're gonna cum this quick?"

As her orgasm consumes her, she almost lets out a pleasurable shout. She violently rocks her hips, feeling the thick build suffocate her until she lets out a harsh breath. She breaks eye contact and gets up from his lap, flipping her panties back and settling into the chair across from him. Refitting his boxers, he slides his hips up to button his formal pants and tucks his shirt back in.

“Here is my number, sweetheart. Call me anytime”

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 ୨୧•❣•

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

summary: benedict has always been against marriage, but when he meets the princess one fateful night he can't help but fall in love.

contains: fluff and a lot of flirty banter.

a/n: another series cos it was just too much for a oneshot! this was so fun to write i just adore him. to the anon who requested this, i hope you love it and all its upcoming parts!

word count: 1.2k

You feel a heavy gaze on you as you glide across the ballroom. The chandelier above you twinkles with a warm glow, the light catching in your hair as you’re spun around by this suitor and that. The king has tired of begging you to select one for yourself and has threatened on more than one occasion to marry you off to the next prince to set foot in the palace. You know he doesn’t mean it, but you also know it is your duty to carry on the royal bloodline. Your father is right. You must choose. But certainly not this young man dancing with you. No, he’s far too boring. Not unsightly by any means, but he doesn’t make your stomach flip, doesn’t make you giggle as if possessed by an unearthly amount of joy. Still, you feel the eyes of another on you.

Benedict Bridgerton has long been a firm believer of marrying only when absolutely, undeniably in mad love. He hasn’t found that, not yet. That is why when his sisters begged him to accompany them to the royal ball he only agreed under the condition that they leave him free to speak to all the lovely women attending. Perhaps he might be able to take one home tonight and part ways come morning. That had been his original plan, anyway, which lay discarded from this very moment on; the moment he laid eyes on you.

Your current dance partner bows before you as the song comes to a close. He gives you a playful smirk before leaving you, and you resist the urge to laugh. You sigh, exhausted. You’ve got half a mind to find your father, tell him you’re not feeling well and retire to your bedroom for the remainder of the night. You’re grasping at the ruffles of your gown to turn and leave when he appears before you. He has a boyish grin fit to make the most reserved of women melt, and his ocean eyes glimmer like moonlight on waves. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?” You couldn’t say no if you tried.

It’s a different ballroom tonight, but you feel yourself searching faces in the crowd, hoping you might catch a glimpse of that handsome stranger you danced with only a fortnight ago. It was no simple feat escaping the palace. You struggled to squeeze into your gown on your own, but couldn’t risk any of your ladies in waiting knowing about your little disappearing act. You slipped on a cloak and placed a mask over your face. You followed an emergency tunnel beneath the palace grounds until you finally found yourself beneath the pale glow of moonlight. You knew it was mad, but you simply had to see him. He consumed your dreams, and when you were awake, your daydreams. He had been whisked away too soon by his family. You couldn’t even get his name, only his surname: Bridgerton. They have always been a respected household, and at tonight’s masquerade ball you can only hope to encounter them.

Music fills the halls of the Featheringtons’ estate, but the plucking of strings and sweet melody of the violins does little to soothe your nerves. You resolve to distract yourself from your anxious mind and seek out a dance partner. They’re playing a lively song, one that makes you laugh giddily as you hop to the rhythm. You’re so overjoyed, you almost forget all about that Bridgerton lad and his blasted piercing blue eyes. That is, of course, until you step aside to catch your breath and are met with them for the very first time since the night of the royal ball. 

“So we meet again, Princess.” he teases, and your eyes go wide. 

“How did you recognize me?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“The same way you recognized me, of course.” he smirks, almost as if he weren’t speaking with royalty. “I would know those sweet eyes anywhere.”

“You’ve got quite the silver tongue, haven’t you, sir?” you smile, your cheeks taking on a faint blush as you fan yourself coyly.

“So I’ve been told.” he replies cockily. He gets closer to you; simultaneously too close for comfort yet not close enough. You’re not sure what to make of this man who makes your heart pound in your chest like no other has ever done before. This man whose name you do not even know.

“Tell me,” you demand in the tone you have grown accustomed to using to get what you want, “what is your name?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” he giggles like a mischievous schoolboy, and you’d be lying if you said you don’t find it endearing. 

“You know mine.” you retort. “The entire kingdom knows it.”

He feigns shock, clutching his heart and letting his jaw drop. “Why, aren’t we full of ourselves?” You laugh, your eyes crinkling behind your lace mask. 

“I know one of us certainly is.” you tease him back, and he loves every second of it.

“Princess?” he asks, but is quickly hushed by you.

“Lower your voice, do you wish for the entire ballroom to know of my presence here?” you urge him.

“Forgive me, Pri-” he begins once again, but you give him a playful shove your father would have undoubtedly reprimanded you for, seeing as it isn’t very ladylike. “Forgive me, my lady.”

“Much better.” you smirk, satisfied with yourself. “You are forgiven, my lord.”

“Now you tell me.” he says. “What is a lady like yourself doing at a ball like this? Surely you’ve been to better ones.”

You’re suddenly thankful for the white mask hiding your bashful expression from him. “You’re right, I have. But, you see, I was hoping to run into someone.”

He replies with a playful, “Oh?”. You can tell he is clearly intrigued by the information you’ve provided him. “What a coincidence. I was hoping for the same, though I must admit, never in my wildest dreams did I think my hopes would come true.”

“Well”, you go on, “I dare say they have.”

Suddenly, his eyes change and all playfulness is replaced with earnestness and solemnity. He lowers his voice down to a baritone only you can hear. “Princess, you truly must know you have haunted the chambers of my mind since the moment I laid eyes upon you. I may not be royalty, but I have other virtues you will discover if you only allow me. I can love you like no suitor or prince has done so before. Say the word, my lady, and I am yours.”

You’re a bit taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you can tell by his eyes, those gentle eyes, that he means every word he utters. And his words couldn’t have described your own feelings any better. “You’re quite the poet.” you grin. “But how can you be mine if I don’t even know your name?”

He laughs once again, and the tension is lifted. “Benedict Bridgerton, my lady.”

You extend your hand to him and his lips ghost your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bridgerton.” 

“The pleasure is all mine.” Benedict beams, rising once again. “and I’m hoping the next dance will be, as well?”

“Of course.” you nod, a glint in your eye only Benedict can catch. “I’m all yours.”

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue

[zaynveir]

Doing Christmas stuff with the Lads boys ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺

Pairings : zayne/xavier/rafayel/sylus x reader

-its only november but i needed to write something festive

-So I’m new to tumblr and this is my first time writing a post like this so please be nice 😭 if you have any feedback please share!

🎐𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖

Zayne

- you guys would definitely go to the local Christmas markets together and spend so much money on overpriced food.

- Because of Zayne’s sweet tooth, you would be checking out the stalls that would offer pancakes/waffles/churros that would have lightly dusted sugar or tons of nutella dripping from it.

- While walking around you would spot something but not buy it, Zayne would notice this and get it later as a gift.

- You would find a big Christmas tree and take a selfie with him and he would use it as the background for his phone.

- I would imagine there would be a street performer playing music and you would just stop and take in the beautiful song and just stand close to one another taking in the moment, hands intertwined.

- He would pick out an ornament to hang on the tree to remember that day.

Xavier

- okay so I think you and Xavier would go see the Christmas lights and walk through them.

- He would hold your hand the entire time and would wrap your scarf around you before giving you a warm smile.

- He would say things like “why does that reindeer look like that?” Or “that tree wasn’t decorated very well” which would make you laugh at how clueless he is.

- The different lighting would make him look even more pretty than he already does and you would capture it in so many photos.

- He would point out his favourite decorations and be so engrossed in the twinkling lights, that he wouldn’t even notice the cold air of the season. He would be so happy to share this evening with you.

- At the end of the night you would get hot chocolate and head back to his apartment, cuddle up in your matching pjs and watch some classic home alone.

Rafayel

- you can’t tell me that Rafayel wouldn’t take you ice skating in the winter months. He’d persuade you into going by saying things like

- “Cmon!…it will be an exercise to see how good your reflexes are from fighting all those wanderers.”

- He would try to be poetic and say “I would love to see you gliding around like a swan”

- You would be careful at first but you’d get the hang of it only falling on your butt 3 times, but Rafayel would surprisingly be clutching onto the side railings for dear life. You’d have to come over to him and teach him

- When you both got more comfortable it felt like the world melted away and it was just you two sharing a smooth dance

Sylus

- I think you and Sylus would do something like decorate the christmas tree together.

- “you don’t have a Christmas tree?! Do people in the N109 zone not have the Christmas spirit??”

“Sweetie I think people have bigger things to worry about than…a tree.”

- You would meticulously place ornaments only for him to place them somewhere else just to get a rise out of you.

- You would creep up behind Sylus and place the tinsel around him only for him to retaliate by chasing you to do the same to you.

- Mephisto would also take part placing the tinsel or decorations around the tree.

- At the end Sylus would lift you up to the top and you would place the star completing it.