#may have been a wifi thing

[dutybcrne]

Gotta love that good ol crossover old man yaoi

#//Hi; have no been able to to on here that much #//My apologies #☆ ┆ ( .ooc. ); #//Anywho; I've been rotating that art I've rb'd of Wriothesley and Gallagher in my brain all freakin DAY #//I love them #//Only ONE art of them #//But I love them #//Cops as they may be kdjhgbdg #//I need to get more Gallagherrrr #//For Ship purposes now djbgdkjfgd #//Okay; imma see if I can do things #//Whether on compu or mobile; bc my wifi has been Heck #//I also HELLA need to catch up; bc Aventurine has been buzzing in my brain #//Along with a muse from a very recent game I played...djbgd

[rotturn]

for the next week my wifi may be questionable/not available just a heads up

#im on a boat cruise and they do have wifi it just sucks v much #ive been on the boat for like 4/5 hours and its v on and off #we havent taken off yet so that may change things but rn it is not working much at all

[bradshawsbaby]

scenes from the kitchen sink

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: A little moment inspired by that hair washing scene from Water Rises. That movie may have stressed me out, but at least it gave us plenty of domestic Lew content!

Warnings: Domestic fluff and the tiniest of innuendos (if you squint).

Smiling, the hem of your sundress brushing against your calves in the late afternoon breeze, you step out onto the back porch in your bare feet, crossing your arms over your chest and resting your head against the door jamb to better admire him.

He’s stripped down to his boxers—that’s the nice thing about it being just you and him for miles on end—and standing under the steady stream of the garden hose he’s holding above his head, blue eyes shut tightly as he allows the icy gush to wash away the dirt and grime of the day. You worry for half a second when you realize he isn’t wearing his glasses—Did he leave them somewhere?—but your shoulders instantly relax when you catch sight of them in your periphery, the sun glinting off them as they lay resting on the ledge of the window box overflowing with the weeds he hasn’t yet gotten the chance to pull.

It’s silly of you to fret about it, you think with an amused curve of your lips. Bob never goes anywhere without his glasses.

His eyes still closed and his back to you, you continue to gaze upon him, struck not for the first time by just how beautiful he is. Water droplets cling to the broad expanse of his freckled back, winking at you as they catch the sunlight. His muscles ripple with every movement, and your stomach clenches as you recall how they’d felt stretched taut beneath your fingertips that morning.

He looks so right here, so at home standing half naked on the grass outside the little two and a half room cabin the two of you have turned into your own personal love nest these past few days. You know he’s glad that he volunteered to come here, to straighten things up at his grandpa’s old fishing cabin that hasn’t been touched in over five years.

The place has no WiFi, no air conditioning, and no hot water. The floorboards creak something awful, the windows rattle at night, and you’re fairly certain there’s a family of mice taking up residence in the walls. Still, even you have to admit that the place has its charms. Charms that are easier to see since you know you’ll be leaving at the end of the week, once you and Bob finish setting a few things to rights around here.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he whispers to you every night before you fall asleep.

But there’s no place else you’d rather be. You belong wherever he is.

Even if that means showering with a rusty old garden hose. 

Which, considering the veritable deathtrap the shower in the cabin is, it does.

Your chest tightens as you watch Bob wash the day’s hard-earned sweat away, your heart filled nearly to bursting with love for him as he bounces on the balls of his feet, gritting his teeth and bearing it as the cold water trickles down his back and snakes a path along his legs, pooling in the dirt at his feet. As soon as he’s able, he’s running to twist the spigot off, winding the hose up in a neat pile before reaching for his glasses.

When he turns his head and catches sight of you standing at the back door, watching him, his face lights up in a way that sets your pulse racing.

No one’s ever looked at you like that except for Bob Floyd.

“C’mere,” you tell him softly, crooking your finger at him to draw him closer.

“I’m all wet,” he murmurs ruefully, stopping short a foot or so away from you.

“I don’t care,” you grin, holding out your arms, which he gladly steps into. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body even as the chilly water droplets seep through the thin cotton of your sundress.

With him still standing in the grass and you at a slightly elevated position in the doorway, you’re able to look down at his wet locks, glistening in the waning afternoon light. You run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the way it knots even as you try to smooth it down.

Bob makes a valiant effort to hide his wince, but you spot it all the same.

“I know just the thing you need,” you whisper to him, dropping a kiss on his forehead before reaching for his hand and tugging him inside the cabin.

“Where’re you going?” he asks with a laugh as he stands shivering in the small kitchen, his eyebrows rising above the rims of his glasses as you move hurriedly out of the room.

“To get you a towel!” you call back, already in the bedroom and digging through your bags.

When you return a moment later, however, it’s with more than a towel in hand.

Bob watches with a quizzical expression on his handsome face as you set down your shampoo and conditioner bottles next to the kitchen sink on your way to come wrap a warm towel around his shoulders.

“You want to wash off, too, honey?” he asks sweetly, looking down at you as you towel him off. “I can hold the hose up for you.”

“No,” you reply with a smile, shaking your head and meeting his blue eyes. “Not right now.”

“Then what’s that for?” he questions, gesturing towards the bottles of coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner.

“For me to wash your hair, silly,” you tease, booping his nose before dropping the towel to the floor and reaching for a chair from the rickety kitchen table. Before he can so much as open his mouth to reply, you already have it propped against the sink, the back perfectly level with the edge. Bending down, you scoop up the towel you’d been using before and drape it over the back of the chair.

Bob just stares at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turn pink. “Aw, sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your eyes twinkling. “I want to. Now sit,” you command, resting your hands on his bare shoulders and gently pushing him down into the seat.

“But you don’t have to use your shampoo,” he protests as he lowers down into the chair. “Isn’t it expensive? My shampoo should be in my—”

“Robert Floyd, I love you, but that 3-in-1 shampoo you travel with is a crime against humanity,” you laugh, making a face to underscore your point. “Probably explains all these knots,” you add, lightly tugging on his sandy brown hair.

“Fair enough.” he mumbles sheepishly in response.

Giggling softly, you bend down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy, honey. Let me take care of you.”

Before you can reach to turn the faucet on, Bob snags your wrist and uses the momentum to pull you back down to him, his lips skimming yours as a smile stretches across his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth before you can straighten back up. “Thank you.”

Even after all this time, he still manages to throw you off-kilter in the very best of ways. Your cheeks feel warm and your heart is singing when you pull back and reach for the faucet a second time, managing to turn the water on this time.

It’s just as cold as the water from the hose, but your hands are warm and gentle as they tip his head backwards, thoroughly rinsing his hair and running your fingers through it once again.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the world’s softest hair?” you query, admiring his glistening locks as they catch the light filtering in through the small window above the sink, the one you had spent about an hour scrubbing the day before.

“Hmm,” he hums softly, his eyes closed and his long fingers laced together across his chest as he loses himself in the feel of your delicate hands in his hair. “Well, you certainly have. On more than one occasion,” he teases, cracking one eye open and gazing up at you.

You grin in response, ducking your head to peck his oh-s0-kissable lips. “At least I’m consistent,” you joke in return, nudging his nose with your own before straightening and reaching for your bottle of coconut milk shampoo.

“That you are,” Bob smiles, bunching up the fabric of your sundress as he raises his hands to grab hold of your waist.

“Don’t distract me,” you giggle, shaking the bottle and squeezing a quarter-sized dollop of shampoo into your palm.

He lets out a soft groan as soon as you run both your hands through his hair, the tropical scent of coconuts filling the distinctly midwestern air. “Feels nice,” he confesses, dropping his hands back down to his chest as he stretches his long legs out in front of him and relaxes further into your touch.

“Good,” you murmur softly, a small furrow appearing between your brows as you concentrate on lathering the shampoo through his honey brown locks. You’d once told him, in a loopy state of exhaustion, that the color of his hair reminded you of Teddy Grahams. To this day, he still finds it hilarious and buys you boxes of the little teddy-shaped crackers whenever you go grocery shopping.

Bob sighs softly as you scratch your fingernails against his scalp, his slightly sunburned chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your heart. You can see, as well as feel, the tension oozing out of his body, the stress from a long several days of labor being washed away with the coconut suds. Your hands still for a moment as you simply gaze down at him, suddenly moved beyond words at the total trust and vulnerability in his posture.

You must pause for longer than you realize because suddenly those cerulean eyes are fixed on your face from behind his wire-frame glasses, a small smile crinkling the corners of his mouth.

“Getting tired?” he asks with a playful nudge, letting his fingers run over the soft cotton of your dress.

Shaking your head, you smile sheepishly, your hands getting back to work. “Just admiring the view,” you admit, feeling your skin grow warm at the way he looks at you in response.

“Me, too,” he says in a low voice, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your forearm.

You massage his scalp for a few minutes longer, then reach for the faucet once more to rinse his hair out, gently detangling all the knots as you do so. Good thing you grabbed the conditioner as well.

“Conditioner, too? I’m really getting the royal treatment,” he chuckles when he feels you rubbing it through the ends of his hair. It’s gotten a little longer while he’s been on leave. He’ll have to cut it again soon enough, but you’re enjoying it while you can.

“Only the best for you, Lieutenant,” you grin, rewarded for your comment by the adorable blush spreading across his skin.

Bob’s eyes pop open again and he watches you this time as you carefully tend to him, so focused on taking care of him and making him feel good.

“C’mere,” he whispers, the husky tone in his voice turning your knees to melted butter as he reaches up and tugs on your waist, pulling you down into a kiss while your hands still rest in his hair.

You’re not sure if it’s just something in this fresh country air, but his kiss tastes like sunshine and wildflowers.

You can feel the “I love you” mouthed against your skin, his lips closing around your bottom lip as he bites down softly.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to pull back, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat when you see his little pout, his mouth still searching for yours.

“Let me finish,” you murmur soothingly, washing the conditioner out of his hair.

You let the frigid water cascade over his head a few minutes longer than necessary, your fingers turning to ice as you continue to card them through his Teddy Graham hair. It's only when you see the goosebumps rising on his shoulders that you finally turn the water off, squeezing the ends of his hair in a gentle fist to release some of the excess droplets.

“All done,” you say, laughing when he sits up and begins shaking his head back and forth, looking suspiciously like his family dog. “Stop, stop!” you scold him good-naturedly, reaching for the towel on the back of the chair.

“My goodness, you are impossible,” you tease, stepping between his legs and draping the towel over his head, scrubbing his hair as he reaches up and links his hands behind your back, trapping you against him.

“And you are beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning forward once you lift the towel and pressing a kiss to the center of your chest, just above the neckline of your dress. If he can feel your heart nearly jump out of your chest, he doesn’t say anything about it.

“There, good as new,” you hum, pleased with your work as you watch the silky soft strands of his freshly washed hair glide through your fingers. “And now you smell like coconuts, too,” you add with a grin.

Bob only smiles in response as he slowly stands up, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you soundly.

He still has his arms around you as he kicks the forgotten towel away and begins walking you backwards out of the kitchen and in the direction of the small bedroom, the one with the rickety full-size bed the two of you have been sharing since your arrival.

“What’re you doing?” you laugh, your bare feet tripping along the creaky floorboards as you let him guide you.

“You took care of me,” he says softly, blue eyes twinkling as he rests his forehead against yours, his hands resting securely on your waist. “Now I’m going to take care of you.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

[rudeflower]

you need a library card

Almost everyone I know doesn't have a library card, and some of them read less than they want to because they can't afford to buy the books they want???? GUYS BIG SOLUTION TIME

BOOKS! Audiobooks! DVDS! Movie/series/documentary streaming services! Ebooks! Video games! Magazines!

Air conditioning! Wifi! Heat! Meeting rooms to reserve! Copy machines! Printers! Quiet safe place!

FOR FREE! FOR FREE! NO COST! FOR FREE!!!

Let's face is inflation is killing us, and you may have had to sacrifice buying books for fun, keeping the heat at a comfortable temp, cancel a few subscriptions. Enter your library card

"I don't have time to go a library" me neither I use the audiobook and ebook app daily and check out digital books and get them on my phone immediately

"I want to support the author" If you like it then you buy it! You don't have to pay up front for something you might not like ten pages in! Buy a book you know you love even if you don't plan to reread it to support the author!

"I don't want to wait for a book" Fair enough then don't, check out the books you can wait for

This world has home, where you pay to be, and very very few places outside of the home that you don't have to pay to be. If you're losing your head and need to get out for a few hours, you have to pay to exist almost anywhere you want to go. Not libraries.

I've gone to libraries weekly, almost daily at times, my whole life and they have never once asked anything of me. They give.

This world takes and takes and takes and libraries give and give and give and you deserve to be given lovely things.

It is not hard to get a library card, for most people. In most places I've lived you need some form of evidence you live in the area the library serves, and I've brought in a piece of mail, a student ID or an electric bill and been good to go. Many libraries also work with people who don't have documentation like this to get one anyway.

Get a library card even if you don't think you'll use it. Because one day there will be a book you really want that your local bookstore doesn't have, but who has it? THE LIBRARY! GO GET IT!

This is a USA centric post, and also goes out to my non-American cousins who taught me that libraries are a beautiful gift and not a given, and we should take advantage of it more often than we do

Get a library card, love yourself

#i know multiple people who love reading and limit how much they read because they can't afford books! #i don't know where you live but i live in a small city and they could totally! be! rolling! in! library! books! #there are very few things i think people are living wrong if they don't do #i don't care who you date i don't care what you eat i don't care how you dress #i do care that you don't have a library card #libraries #library card

[sluttyminghao]

Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 1.1k ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: here is the 96 line version! i hope you guys enjoy! shoutout to @bf-wonu and my friends at @svthub again for helping with this!

Junhui: This man would be insanely giggly every single time you suggest phone sex or have any conversation that leads up to it. He’s going to not be anywhere close to dominant, and may, in fact, become a little more submissive just because he doesn't know what way the conversation will end up going. Jun is going to be very whiny and tell you what to do, but he’s going to be edging himself for god knows how long because he’s addicted to your voice. Every single time you moan or whine out when your fingers touch your sensitive body, it sends a lightning bolt of want and need through his body and only makes him speed up his own hand movements. “You sound so pretty like this, wish it was me that was getting those noises out of you instead though.” I think he’s also the type to have like…a pillow he uses to fuck himself into or a fleshlight of some kind because he just needs to have his cock enveloped in something and hear your voice whilst simultaneously fucking into a fleshlight or a pillow? It would immediately send him over the edge. When he’s feeling dominant, however, i think he would definitely take action in telling you what to do, but would never tease you because he’s holding on for dear life with his own orgasm. He knows what you want and when you need it, so would get you to the edge super quickly.

Soonyoung: He’s definitely very impulsive when it comes to phone sex. You could be at home doing some work and all of a sudden he’s texting you like crazy and calling you a hundred times, and when you finally answer he’s heavily breathing and fucking himself up into his hand. Even though you can’t see him, you know exactly what’s happening and ask him what he’s been thinking about, only for him to retort back with some of the filthiest images either of you could think of. “Was thinking about how I tied you up the other day and your body looked so perfect and ready for me…and then also was thinking about that one time i made you cum so much you passed out” He would definitely also be the type to do video calls as well, and as soon as you pick up you know you’re in trouble when you see how he’s angled his phone just perfectly so that you can see every inch of him, and it gets you going immediately. Soonyoung is very “no thoughts just need to cum” and would be spouting orders for you left and right while he jacks himself off like he’s insane. He’d be telling you to strip for him, get your tits out and play with yourself until you’re both cumming, but he makes you wait until he’s about to cum so you can cum together. Immediately afterwards, he would send you photo proof of how much he came just so you know what you’re in for when he gets home.

Wonwoo: If there’s one thing everyone can agree on with Wonwoo, it’s that his deep voice would instantly have you cumming. He is definitely on the more dominant side when it comes to phone sex, he loves being able to guide you through with a stern voice, letting your whimpers and moans hit his ear in just the right way that his cock twitches. When he’s in the mood, you can tell because his voice drops at least an octave and grows raspy, which only lights the lust fire in your belly and drives you crazy. He would spill the filthiest phrases, telling you how bad he wants you and every single position he wants you in, as well as how much he wants to fill you up with his cum. He’s also definitely the type to play mind games with you, tell you that you can cum and then say things like “oh did I say you could cum? I didn't mean to, oops, now i guess you’ll have to make it up to me” or “if you didn’t cover your fingers then you didn’t fuck yourself hard enough”, and also loves using those toys you can connect to over wifi where he can control the vibrations and movements of said toy. He would make you cum so much with the toys that you grow so sensitive and he only draws it out even further for you, making you so sensitive to the slightest touches and vibrations have you moaning and clenching. His raspy voice wouldn't help either, especially so when he tells you he wishes your hand or mouth was wrapped around his cock rather than his own hand and he’d cum a lot, it’s splayed all over his thighs and abdomen and then also is wishing that you would be the one to clean it up for him. You’re just his good little whore, after all.

Jihoon: With Jihoon, it’s very common to have sex over the phone given his constant desire to want to be in the studio. He would probably have a schedule where he calls you like once or twice a week later at night, probably when he’s at his most frustrated when he’s producing or writing, and just lets his frustrations flow in the form of mutual masturbation. He wouldn’t be overly dominant or submissive, but rather just goes with how he’s feeling and how frustrated he is. If he’s been struggling for a while, he would probably go a little more dominant, and if he’s doing alright, he’d be pretty neutral. With how often you guys have sex over the phone, he would pretty much know exactly what to do and when, really has it down to a pinpoint on how well he knows you, down to your breathing patterns when you’re getting close to your orgasm. He would also be pretty easy to come undone as well, given that you can push his buttons hard enough. If he’s frustrated, you want to get him off in as little time as possible so that he can focus again. If he’s chill, then you can drag it out and edge him for a while until he finally snaps and switches to dominance. I think he’s not one to talk dirty often, and would only use it on the odd occasion where he’s feeling more dominant than normal. He’d be very careful with his wording but manages to speak fluently in dirty talk when he’s in the mood, calling you his good little slut and whore and getting you over the edge and getting you moaning which in turn, gets him to cum all over his thighs.

#sm: masterlist 2024 #sluttyhao smut #sluttyhao reaction #kpop smut #kpop reaction #seventeen smut #seventeen reaction #junhui smut #soonyoung smut #wonwoo smut #jihoon smut

[thrashkink-coven]

Don’t forget that you live in a very incredibly crazy age of maximum information. We often forget how magical that is in itself. I know that most folks don’t consider bluetooth and wifi to be “magic” but I very much do.

It may not seem very aesthetically pleasing to look up the meanings of your tarot cards on Google, or to download the e-book version of an ancient grimoire, but don’t forget how fucking crazy it is that you can even do that. In an instant we can translate entire works into a language we can understand. We can research the histories of cultures we have no chance of witnessing irl. We can learn the names of Gods and demons that should have been lost to time. We can learn the benefits and dangers of any herb, we can learn which plants are native to our environment, how to care for them, and where to find them. We can predict the damn WEATHER!!! We can even converse with other witches all the way across the globe without a moment’s delay!!! That’s some crazy magic right there!!! Any ancient witch, mage, or practitioner would find these things to be absolutely incredible!! There’s so much to learn, and it’s so easily accessible!!!

Don’t ever feel apprehensive about looking stuff up on the regular old internet. It might not look as cool, but you’re probably gaining a lot more knowledge than any of those ancient mages could have even dreamed of. It’s always nice to have a collection of books and grimoires you can actually hold and study. But the fact that you have literally, all of humanity’s knowledge at the tip of your fingertips is amazing!!! Use it!

#witchcraft #magick #occultism #pagan #demonology #paganism #witch community #witch aesthetic #witchblr #grimoire #lefthandpath #spellcraft #deity witchcraft #deity work #eclectic pagan #lucifer devotee #luciferian witch #theistic luciferianism #baby witch #beginner witch

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweaty Palms 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Curtis Everett

Summary: You start going to the gym to break old habits, but new things are scary.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You’ve never been to a gym before. You’ve never been to a lot of places. Crowds are not your forte, public places are your personal nightmare, and strangers make your nervous. Everything makes you nervous. 

You can’t hide forever. That’s the conclusion you’ve come to. It's not a very comfortable one for you but if you don’t change, you’re always going to feel like this. Heavy, deflated, lost. It’s hard to put into words the feeling. The world just seems to pass you by, it functions around you, and sometimes you almost believe you’re not really there. Like a ghost, you just watch it without effect. 

The extra fifteen dollars a month isn’t too much of a stretch. You can hold off on your Kindle addiction for the expense. That’s another thing, you need to start being smart, more practical with your money. 

Planning. That’s something you’re working on. You didn’t come without one. You wouldn’t make it past the door without a set of steps to follow. 

You stop by the front counter first. You ask the woman behind it about how to get into the gym. You bought a membership online. She brings up your profile and issues you a membership card, explaining how you can also download the app and register with your member number. You thank her and continue through. 

You walk along the first floor, the leg machines and the rowing machines being worked by the regulars. You find your way to the dressing room on the second floor and enter with your head down. You try not to look anywhere but where you need to. You find a stall and change, packing away your street clothes, then go out to find a locker to shove your stuff in. 

You emerge with your phone and your new smart watch strapped to your wrist. You glance at the face of it. Your heart rate is already elevated. You unlock your phone and tap the app you downloaded the day before. You flipped through the catalogue of beginners’ workouts but didn’t have any of the equipment to do it yourself. It’s cheaper to just come here. 

You go to one of the spaces laid with mats and stop before one of the racks of weights. You stare at your phone in exasperation. You don’t understand, you’re connected to the wifi but the app just won’t connect. You could try on your own but you really don’t know what you’re doing. 

Ugh, why did you even bother? This is just another failure. You try restarting the app and then your phone, aware of the activity around you. Does anyone notice how clueless you look? 

“Hit it or quit it, little girl,” a man startles you as he brushes by you and grabs a large set of dumbbells, the thirty on the side catching your eye. You shift out of the way and press your phone against your chest, the smooth fabric of your shirt causing it to vibrate as if you tapped the screen. “This isn’t the phone club, it’s a gym.” 

“Sorry, I...” 

“There’s a cafe across the street, you can go play candy crush there,” he scoffs, “seems more your speed.” 

“Must feel real big, huh?” A gritty voice nears from your other side, “real heavy lifting there, pushing around a woman.” 

“Huh?” The first man narrows his eyes as he grips the set of dumbbells at his sides and faces the other man.  

He’s taller than you, muscular but not too bulky. His head is shaved and a dark short beard lines his jaw. Similar hair peeks out from the top of his tee shirt and dusts his toned arms. He slips past you, inserting himself between you and the gym watchdog. 

“Bro,” the first guy sneers, “don’t even start with me. You think you can step up.” 

“I’m not stepping up,” the other man defies, “I’m telling you to mind your business. Take your weights and leave her alone.” 

“Pfft, this some sort of date? You know, this isn’t the Olive Garden--” 

The second man crosses his arms, his back to you as he postures at the other man. He’s silent as he stares him down. You can’t see his face but you can feel the tension roiling off of him. There’s a thick lull as both men stand in a deadlock. 

“Got something to say, bud,” the first guy drops the weights and they boom against the floor. You wince and step back, “go on, I could use the work out.” 

“I said it,” the second man utters flatly, unyielding as he looms like a wall between you. 

“Fucking loser,” the other spits back, “you’re really gonna fuck around for that? Have you seen the skin around her?.” 

The man doesn’t respond. He stays as he is, an unmoving sentinel. The other man growls in frustration. 

“Fucking chicken shit, why don’t you speak up, dude?” 

Still no answer. Just a glare. You clutch your phone against your chest, frozen in horror and confusion. You didn’t mean to start a fight. You hate confrontation. 

Suddenly, the man before you jerks as he’s grabbed by the large man. His back hits you slightly and you drop your phone as he latches onto the other man. Everything happens so fast. The man who came to your defence has the other man on his back on the mat in seconds, a knee on his chest as his fists clasp around the top of his tank top. He bends over him and snarls. 

“Christ, bro, get the fuck off of me,” the man on the floor shoves on his arm helplessly.  

You glance around and notice the audience forming around you. Oh no. You look back to the two men. You step forward and tap the closest man on the shoulder, the one who defended you. 

“Please,” you croak nervously, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.” 

He turns his head, glancing back at you with powder blue eyes made bright by the dark row of his lashes. He exhales and lets go of the other man. He stands and puts his arm out as if to keep your behind him. 

“You really want me to repeat myself?” He sneers down at the other man. 

The larger man pushes himself up and scowls, shaking his head and he turns to stalk off muttering, leaving behind his forgotten dumbbells. The other man bends to pick them up and returns them to the rack. You look down at your empty hands then search the floor. 

You reach for your phone but it’s plucked up before you. The man brings it up between you and holds it out. You take it with a thank you. 

“No problem,” he rasps. 

“I... you didn’t have to--” 

“That guy’s an—he's not nice,” he corrects himself and drags his hand over his mouth and chin, “I don’t like bullies.” 

“It’s my fault,” you shrug, “I was in the way. But er, thanks. I'm... I’m sorry.” 

You turn away and look back at your phone. The app isn’t working. It says it needs another update. 

“You need help with something?” The man asks. 

“I...” you peek at him over your shoulder, “yeah, I... I don’t... I don’t usually... it’s my first time.” 

He nods and hums as he steps closer. You face him and show him your phone. You’re jittery as it trembles in your grip. He’s a stranger. Your whole plan was to avoid those. 

“I got this app to help but it’s not working,” you frown. 

“Try the update?” He points his thick, long finger at the screen. 

You tap and keep the phone visible. The app shop comes up and the update button is grayed out. Underneath, italics read ‘this update is not available for this device’. You frown and bring the screen closer to your face. 

“It won’t let me,” you pout and flick your lashes, mortified. How are you this helpless? Why did you have to have a witness? Several. You look around, some eyes darting in your direction. 

“Hm, well, what are you trying to do? You said this is your first day?” He prompts, “I could... I could help out a little. If you need. I’m no trainer, I just do my own thing but I could try.” 

You bat your lashes up at him then look back at your phone. You don’t know what else to do. Your whole plan has fallen apart because your operating system is outdated. 

“I... I’m not very... athletic,” you explain, “so I can’t go very fast.” 

“That’s okay,” he assures you, “I can go slow.” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can figure it out.” 

“I know I don’t have to,” he shifts and peers over his shoulder, “but how about I stay close anyway,” he moves and you can see the guy from earlier staring daggers from a chest press, “just in case.” 

“Oh, I... I’m sorry,” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your leggings, “I made him mad.” 

“Let him be mad. Got nothing to do with you,” he turns back to you again, “I could take you through some stretches and basics; lunges, squats, stuff like that. As best I can.” 

“Erm, I guess... I don’t wanna be in the way,” you rub your neck. 

“Not in my way,” he says evenly, “lets grab some weights first.” 

He directs you to the rack and without a thought you go to it. He approaches beside you as you realise, you didn’t say yes, you didn’t agree to this, but you don’t know what else to do. 

“Start with some twos,” he advises, “and if you’re not getting a good burn, we can up it later.” 

“Oh, okay,” you grab the dumbbells with the large twos on the side. He grabs the twenties. You feel totally inadequate. 

“So let’s get out space,” he backs up and looks around the mat, “here should be good.” He bends and sets down his weights, "for now, let’s put these aside and start our stretches. You don’t wanna pull anything.” 

You nod and place your weights beside you. You stand and stare at him. He’s in good shape. Great shape. He makes you even more conscious of your neglect. You already feel breathless. 

“I’m Curtis by the way,” he steps forward and offers his hand. 

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name. 

“Pretty,” he says as he squeezes before letting you go. His hand is huge compared to yours and the gap in your strength is obvious just in that small gesture. 

“Alright, easy, slow, arms out,” he extends arms, “roll your shoulders and your head, loosen up.” 

You watch him and hesitate to follow his direction. You hate that there’s so many people around. You don’t want to look stupid. You’re so ungainly and awkward.  

“Try not to think about it too much. We’re all just here to work out, right?” He says and you shy away, embarrassed that he noticed your discomfort. You raise your arms and start the stretches, “good, you’re doing good, angel. Make sure to breath, alright?” 

You roll your shoulders and head and blow out a breath. Your nerves are pinging all over and your muscles are shaky. This isn’t what you expected at all. Your plans fallen to pieces and yet, it’s not entirely a lost cause. 

“Arms up,” he guides you into the next exercise, “on your toes, reach as far as you can...” 

You obey, letting his voice guide you. His deep, calm timber is almost comforting. The even tenor is a stark contrast to chaotic nervously. You can get through this. 

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #drabble #gym au #au #sweaty palms #snowpiercer #series

[gaysindistress]

Hey my sweet sweetheart 😘 so I'm currently sitting in the dark as the power in the whole town went down and Id have the wish to have Bucky here with me. So there's maybe this idea where they have also no power at the compound and the reader sneaks her way into Bucks room cause she doesn't want to be alone and he prepares everything with candles and blankets to have all comfy so that he can cuddle you all night 🥺 aw this makes me crave him so bad 😞

Hey hey 💕

I tried to finish this yesterday but I got distracted when I got home. Anyways here it is! I hope you survived your power outage 😉

The lights above flickered for a moment before all chaos descended upon me. The generators cry out as they shut off and even the air conditioning disappears too.

“Jarvis?” I hesitantly call for the AI that I hated at first but later thanked Tony for.

“Jarvis?” I call out again but there’s no reply.

I can hear others down the hall calling for him too but they too receive nothing. Vision waltzes through my wall and informs me that the power is out.

“Mr.Stark has yet to confirm when it will be back on. He asks that no one disturb him while he works to turn it back on,” he states before walking through my wall again.

I curse under my breath and flop myself onto my bed. I had been working on a mission report but seeing as the power is out and therefore the wifi, it doesn’t look like I’ll be doing anymore work.

Usually Tony is quick to get things up and running again however this new compound is significantly larger than Stark Tower. There may only be 3 stories to power however it spans across 15 acres, all of which contain various important power sources. I can only imagine how long it’ll take even with the help of Bruce and Peter (granted Peter may just get in the way but it’s the thought that counts.)

The reality of sitting alone in the dark for an indefinite amount of time starts to weigh on me and it’s been less than a minute. It’s not that I’m afraid of the dark, I’m just afraid of what’s IN the dark and being alone without a way to call for help isn’t where I want to be.

I slide out of bed, wrapped up in a blanket like it’s my armor and book it to the door. Popping my head out, I spot Wanda and Natasha walking towards me.

“We’re having a game night in the living room. You should come with us,” Wanda excitedly tells me but Natasha is quick to give me the answer I really want.

“He was in his room when we walked past,” she says with a faint smile.

“Thank you. Maybe next time,” I mumble to them as I dash past and towards his room.

When I come to stand in front of his door, I can’t find the courage to knock. I nervously shift on my feet as i hope the ceiling would come crashing down so i wouldn’t have to knock or survive this power outage. Voices float down the hall towards me and I know it’s now or never.

I gingerly knock, hoping that Bucky would hear and open the door before the voices see me.

The door cracks open and my savior looks at my wearily, “y/n?”

I wince at the harsh sound of his voice as the door cautiously swings open, allowing me a chance to slip in. I take it and tuck myself against the wall as Bucky turns to look at me.

“Come here,” he says in a gentler tone with his arms spread wide. When I don’t immediately take a step forward, he takes a cautious step towards me and waits. I almost knock him over from the force of me launching myself at him.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he whispers after pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I barely nod in agreement and he’s gently pulling me towards his bed. Ever the gentlemen, he doesn’t try to remove my blanket and instead lifts his covers so I can curl into a ball under both layers.

He tucks his duvet around me before leaving and opening his closet. I can’t see what he’s doing but I can hear his gathering things and closing the door. Returning only minutes later to his position next my hunched form, he nudges my hip for me to move over. When I move, I can see that he’s lit several candles and placed them throughout the room. He doesn’t mention it as he crawls in next to me and wraps his arms around me.

“Thank you.”

“No need for that, doll. You know that.”

I move my head so I can look up at him and he does the same. I’ve always thought him to be the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen but the kindness and thoughtfulness of this moment confirms that. He is the epitome of beauty from his looks to his heart.

Bucky glances to my lips for a second and I do the same. It’s now or never.

We meet I n the middle, completely enthralled with each other and this moment. He closes the last few inches and captures my lips in a kiss. He shifts so that hes leaning over me as our lips move together, growing breathless. Pulling away, i smile at the man above me, delicate pieces of dark hair framing the face of this angel.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” I murmur before my lips meet his once again. I feel him nod as our mouths part and his tongue slides against mine.

“And you are my light,” he murmurs back as we wrap ourselves up in each other.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #request

[space-writes]

why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)

hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.

obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:

It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!

Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!

you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.

It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.

HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing

Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.

I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.

OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible

this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal

do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between

finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them

the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.

that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)

anyway, come try obsidian!

#obsidian md #obsidian.md #writeblr #writing program #writing #writing process #notes app #space has thoughts #writing apps #writing tools #writer things #writing setup #this whole blog has just been a long con to get more people to download obsidian #notes app (beloved)

[rubyreduji]

of boobs and basses — ljh

summary: jihoon gets to meet his favorite rockstar, things only go up from there

tags: smut (minors dni!), fluff, idol!woozi, rockstar!reader warnings: smoking, explicit sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, praise, fingering, biting and marking, oral, cum swallowing, finger sucking, spanking, hair pulling, creampie, crying, choking, squirting, over stimulation wc: 13.3k an: yes the reader and her band are based off of maneskin and vic de angelis. yes there is plot (but also a fair amount of smut ok). yes i love the banner thank you for noticing. here’s the playlist for this fic

Jihoon hates flying. Not because he hates traveling or because he’s afraid of heights, no he just finds it boring. Luckily he has WiFi and he can put his headphones on and sleep through the flight.

He’s sitting next to Seokmin who seems just as restless as Jihoon is, though Jihoon is a bit better at covering it up.

“Hyung, what are you listening to?” Seokmin leans over to try and look at Jihoon’s phone. His phone displays that he’s listening to Backseat Sex by LADYKILLER. “Oh, that’s the band with that girl you’re obsessed with. The one with the boobs.”

The words out of Seokmin’s mouth make Jihoon blush and he snatches his phone away. Seokmin isn't exactly wrong though.

Y/N L/N. Bassist for the rock band LADYKILLER. Jihoon may have a giant crush on you.

You and your band are well known for your ‘edgy’ image and your sexual stage presence. It’s not uncommon to see you on stage sporting nothing but pasties and a fishnet top. Sometimes no pasties at all. It seems these days he can’t even go on Twitter without seeing clips of you performing on stage topless, not that Jihoon minds.

That’s not why Jihoon has a crush on you though. You write most of your band’s songs, and to Jihoon nothing is more attractive than someone who understands music. You also just seem like a cool person, based off of interviews you’ve done and your fan interaction Jihoon has seen on social media. The way you handle fame is very different from how idols do, he likes seeing how free you are with your self expression.

Your music isn’t normally something Jihoon would like, but he saw one of your guys’ performances on Twitter and has been hooked since. Your stage presence is incredible and the chemistry of your group adds to that.

“Hyung this music is really…intense,” Seokmin says to Jihoon. Jihoon isn’t sure how much time has passed since Seokmin last spoke to him but when Jihoon looks over he can see that Seokmin has his earbuds in, listening to one of your songs.

Ex-Fling, off of your Razor Sharp Rampage album. It’s one of Jihoon’s favorite albums. 

“You really enjoy this stuff?” Seokmin asks.

Jihoon flushes a bit, “Yeah. Their lyrics are good.”

Seokmin gives him a skeptical look. “If you say so, hyung.”

As soon as the plane lands in New York, the boys are swept away to the Radio City Music Hall. The VMAs aren’t until tomorrow, but Seventeen is scheduled to do their rehearsals today.

“You guys are a bit early, so you can just wait around and we’ll call you when we’re ready,” one of the stage managers tells the group before running off.

The boys break off to go kill some time but Jihoon stays backstage, watching the way everyone runs around getting things ready. Jihoon’s eyes scan the area around him, looking to see who else is performing tomorrow night. He sees mostly backstage hands until his eyes land on one certain person and Jihoon feels his jaw drop a bit.

This cannot be real.

Jihoon feels like he can’t breathe. This has to be some kind of hallucination or something because there is no way this is actually happening to him.

Y/N L/N. Twenty feet away from him. Dressed in cut off shorts and a tank top. Jihoon’s mouth goes dry.

He’s not sure why he’s so surprised. This is one of the biggest music events in America, and you are a popular American musician. Still, even if he was expecting you to be here, he didn’t expect you to be here. In the same vicinity as him. Even thinking about it makes Jihoon’s ears turn red. He feels like a flustered school boy again.

He was just talking about you to Seokmin and now here you are, right in front of him, looking like a dream. Jihoon gets embarrassed just thinking about how many times he’s stared at photos and videos of you. 

You turn in the direction Jihoon is standing and your eyes light up when you see him. You start to walk towards him and Jihoon can feel his heart thumping in his skull. Surely you’re not walking over to him.

“Oh my god, you’re Woozi!”

You know who he is. Jihoon wants to pass out.

“I’m a fan of your work. I’m not usually a big K-Pop fan, but I like your stuff. Especially the solo you put out. Ruby? That was sick,” you tell him. “Sorry, I’m Y/N. Bassist for LADYKILLER.”

“I-I know,” Jihoon says. He’s thankful Vernon has been helping him brush up on his English. Too bad Vernon can’t help him with how shaky his voice sounds. “I’m also a fan.”

This seems to shock you a bit and an intrigued look crosses your face. “Oh yeah? That’s cool to hear.”

“Y/N! Come on, we’ve got soundchecks!” Jihoon looks over to see one of your bandmates (Tommy, the drummer) calling for you. A bit of dejection fills Jihoon. He wanted to talk with you more.

“Ah, sorry Woozi. It was nice meeting you. I’ll see you later!” You wave goodbye to the idol before running off towards Tommy. It isn’t until you’re out of sight that Jihoon realizes he didn’t say bye back.

“Jihoon-ah! Where have you been?” His members bombard him when he finds them waiting in a green room.

“I-I think I just met the love of my life,” Jihoon mutters.

Everyone looks at him a bit incredulously. It’s Seungcheol who finally speaks up. “What do you mean Jihoon?”

“She’s here, and I talked to her. Y/N.” Jihoon feels like he’s in a trance.

“Yo, from LADYKILLER? I love that band!” It’s Vernon who says this. Of course Vernon likes the rock band with the hot bassist who’s boobs are always on display. That’s so Vernon.

“The girl who’s always showing off her tits?” Soonyoung asks. They’d get canceled so fast if the Carats heard them talking like this.

“Stop saying that about her!” Jihoon’s face is probably red as a tomato right now.

“Is it…not the truth?”

“What girl is showing off her boobs?”

Jihoon wants to curl up in a ball and die.

“Jihoon-hyung has a crush on the bassist from the rock band LADYKILLER. Y/N L/N. Her band does a lot of nude stuff,” Vernon finally explains. “Their music is sick as fuck, but probably not in any of your guys’ taste.” 

“She’s so pretty,” Jihoon mumbles.

“I hope I get to meet them too,” Vernon says. “James is so cool.” James. The guitarist. Jihoon thinks that he would get along well with Vernon.

The other members are all still staring at Jihoon and he wishes they would stop. Yes, he has a crush on a girl who is always topless. Can they please move on.

As if saved by the bell, a voice comes on one of the speakers.

“Seventeen please report to the stage. Seventeen please report to the stage.”

The boys all move to get to the stage, right as your band is finishing up. You wave at Jihoon when you see them approaching and shoot him a wink before following your band off the stage. And yeah, that definitely does things to Jihoon.

For the rest of the day and into the next Jihoon can’t stop thinking about you. He spends his whole night rewatching every one of your music videos, every interview you’ve done, and all the videos Jihoon has saved of your performances from when you were on tour last year. He might have an obsession.

Jihoon would probably have spent the whole morning doing the same too if he wasn’t taken to get ready for the award show. When the group gets to the venue they’re bombarded with cameras but once they get past those they are able to take their seats. Jihoon’s eyes scan the area quickly to see if he can spot your band, but he comes up short.

Soon the actual award show is starting and Jihoon doesn’t pay much attention to most of the awards, other than clapping when he should and noticing a few of his favorite artists when they come up in nominations or when they do their acceptance speeches.

When the time comes Jihoon gets up and goes backstage before their performance. He gets mic'd and then they’re being lined up to go out on stage. As much as Jihoon loves performing, he always finds it a bit strange to perform for people who aren’t Carats.

Jihoon does know that there is one Carat in the audience, so he dedicates his performance to you. The song goes too quickly for Jihoon’s liking and he thinks about how he can’t wait to be on stage with Carats again as soon as he can.

After their performance a few more awards are given, and Seventeen wins the award for the Best K-Pop and Joshua does all of the taking, as per usual.

Jihoon’s focus is lost again, until the announcer says a band name catches his attention.

“Next up to the stage with their hit single ‘Bruised Knees’: LADYKILLER!” The lights on the stage come up to reveal your band standing there.

Jihoon feels like a bit of a pervert from the way his cock twitches in his pants the second he lays eyes on you. You’re dressed in shiny black thigh high boots, a pleated mini skirt with a few chains and belts over it, and a button up shirt that only covers your shoulders and arms. Necklaces adorn your neck and dip down between your breasts that are out in the open. The only thing conserving any of your modesty is the silver star-shaped covers on your nipples. 

Attached to your body is your iconic bass guitar. It’s sleek in a dark blue color. The rest of your band gifted it to you right before your first tour. You look good with it. If Jihoon is being honest you look like sex on a stick and he’s doing everything in his power not to pop a boner right now.

You have a smirk on your face and Jihoon swears you’re staring directly at him. You continue to stare at Jihoon throughout the whole song, which is about rough sex and giving head, like most of LADYKILLER’s songs are about. The songs that you write.

The special thing about your song ‘Bruised Knees’ is that it’s sung by your lead singer, Luka, but also you, with you singing the second verse and the bridge and sharing the chorus with Luka. The rasp in your voice goes straight to Jihoon’s cock and he really hopes that you (or anyone else) can’t notice. 

You usually do backing vocals on the songs, but it’s rare for you to get your own part of the song and maybe Jihoon is biased but he definitely thinks you should sing more. Or maybe not because it’s really turning Jihoon on and he is in public and has a reputation to upkeep. 

When you’re done with your song you wink at Jihoon again and yeah, Jihoon really is screwed because how is it possible someone can look so good. 

By the end of the night your band wins both Best Alternative and Group of the Year. During both of your acceptance speeches Jihoon can’t pull his eyes away from you or the grin you have on your face.

When the award ceremony finally ends everyone is left to mingle. Most of Seventeen goes to greet some of the other K-Pop groups in attendance, but before Jihoon can join them, you’re approaching him with James in tow.

“Hey Woozi! Congrats on your award. This is my bandmate, James, he was wondering if he could meet Vernon?”

Before Jihoon can even respond, Vernon pipes up from behind him. “Yo! You’re James from LADYKILLER! Huge fan of your work man!” Vernon and James quickly engage in a conversation and Jihoon thinks it’s a little funny how similar the two are.

“Your performance was very good,” Jihoon tells you.

“Oh, wow, thanks! You guys too! I’ve seen videos of you guys performing, but seeing it live is a whole new experience. You guys are amazing.”

“Says the winner of Group of the Year.”

You scoff a bit embarrassed. You decide to change the topic. “Are you guys going to the after party?”

“After party?”

“Yeah. It’s basically an excuse for a bunch of musicians to get drunk together and do stupid shit. I’m only going because Tommy wanted to, but it would be cool to see you there. Your whole group too. No big deal if you don’t, but it would be nice to talk more.”

“Ah, yeah, maybe,” Jihoon says. He says maybe but he has already made up his mind that he is going to be there, even if he has to drag Vernon to go with him. There is no way he’s going to miss out on a chance to talk to you.

Vernon doesn’t take any dragging as he happily accepts to join, as it’s more chance for him to talk to the rest of your band. Joshua also decides to tag along with the promise to Seungcheol that no one’s going to get into any trouble.

Once inside the building, it’s clear this is a full on party. The air smells like alcohol and a wide variety of celebrities stand around talking to each other or dancing to the music. It doesn’t take long for James to find Jihoon, Vernon, and Joshua.

He shoots a smirk at Jihoon before telling him, “Y/N’s out on the balcony if you want to find her.” With that he leaves with Vernon and Joshua in tow. 

Jihoon isn’t sure how to take the interaction and if James is giving him a hint or not. Either way Jihoon slips through all of the bodies in the room before finding his way to the balcony. There are a few people milling around but it isn’t hard to find you.

You’re still in your outfit from earlier and you’re standing talking to another guy who’s very close to you. A cigarette is placed between your fingers and Jihoon stares as you wrap your lips around it to take a drag. The way the smoke leaves your lips and blows into the guy’s face is…quite sexy to Jihoon.

Your eyes flit away from the guy for a second and land on Jihoon. Your face lights up as soon as you see him and you quickly leave the guy to approach Jihoon. 

“Woozi! You came!” You smell like cigarette smoke and perfume and Jihoon has never been super into smoking, but the smell is intoxicating coming off of you.

“Jihoon,” Jihoon blurts out.

“What?”

“Call me Jihoon, please.”

You grin. “Okay Jihoon. Are you here alone?”

“Vernon and Joshua are here, but they’re talking to your band.”

“Ah, I see. Well then I guess you’re stuck here with me.” You send him a teasing smirk before taking another drag of your cigarette. The guy you were talking to earlier seems to realize you’re done with him and he shoots a glare at Jihoon before walking back into the building. 

You lean against the railing of the balcony and look at Jihoon with a sultry look. You look so damn good right now in your stage outfit with your cigarette placed between your fingers and the moonlight shining down on you. Jihoon is glad he’s outside because he’s already having trouble breathing and he’s sure it would be worse inside.

“So Jihoon,” you reach to grab his wrist and pull him closer, “what’s a big time K-Pop idol like you doing liking a nasty band like mine?” His skin tingles under the touch of your warm hand against his wrist and he wants to remember this feeling forever.

“I uhm…” Jihoon’s face is hot as he tries to figure out what to say to you. “I saw a video of you guys performing and I enjoyed it. I enjoy how you write all of your songs.”

“Oh? What video was it?” There’s a teasing tone to your voice and Jihoon knows what you’re insinuating. Yes, the video he watched did include you topless. But he swears that wasn’t what interested him. Before he can sputter out an answer, you laugh. “I’m teasing you. I’m well aware of the…allure of my band.” 

Jihoon wants to tell you that he thinks you’re more than just all of the sex appeal but before he can form the words he gets distracted. You’re staring at him intently, your eyes focused on his face. 

“Y/N?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jihoon nods. “It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I kind of have a crush on you.”

Jihoon freezes. Did he hear that right? You, Y/N L/N, have a crush on Jihoon? 

“Ah, I knew that was weird to admit,” you mumble after Jihoon doesn’t respond. 

“No, no, I have a crush on you too!” Jihoon blurts out. 

“O-oh!”

“I’ve been so nervous every time you’ve talked to me,” Jihoon tells you. He’s still nervous. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. 

“That’s…so flattering, oh my god. You’re just so talented and cool and pretty. You’re so pretty,” you say. 

Jihoon grins. “I think you’re prettier.” 

“I- I like that,” you whisper. “I’m really only called hot or sexy, so pretty is nice.” 

“You’re beautiful to me Y/N.” Jihoon reaches out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I think I’m going to die if I don’t kiss you right now.” 

You quickly stub out your cigarette before grabbing Jihoon’s hand. “Not here.” 

You pull him back inside and you two weave between people before going deeper into the building, away from the crowd. You and Jihoon find an empty hallway and you stop and face Jihoon. His hand is still clamped together with yours as you two stare at each other.

“You can uh, you can kiss me now,” you tell him in a soft voice.

“Okay.”

Jihoon hesitates, just for a second, before leaning in and capturing your lips with his. Jihoon swears that sparks fly the second your lips touch. The kiss starts out gentle but quickly becomes heated and Jihoon pushes you up against the wall, making you let out a low moan into Jihoon’s mouth.

Your fingers bury into the hair at the nape of Jihoon’s neck and you pull him closer. Your bodies are warm as they’re pressed together and Jihoon’s hands run all over your stomach, relishing in the feeling of your warm skin under his fingertips.

Jihoon swipes his tongue against your lips and you open up, letting Jihoon lick into your mouth. Your fingers tighten around Jihoon’s hair, pulling a bit, as you let out small whines from the back of your throat.

Jihoon isn’t usually one for hook-ups, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely inexperienced. He slots his knee between your legs and you automatically grind down against him. Jihoon can already feel the heat of your cunt against his leg and his cock stirs in his pants.

You two break away the kiss. You’re panting but Jihoon doesn’t take a break, leaning in to kiss at your neck. He sucks at the skin, trailing down your neck until your barrage of necklaces stops him. His hands slide up your torso to your exposed chest and he cups your tits. Jihoon kneads at your chest and you let out a soft sigh.

“How many times have you gotten off to pictures of my tits?”

Jihoon takes a shaky breath, “Too many times to count.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you mumble. Your hips are still grinding down against his leg and Jihoon is sure his pant leg is wet by now. “Jihoon, I need you.”

Jihoon's cock is hard in his pants and he doesn't think he's ever been so needy before. Just as Jihoon is about to pull his cock out, his phone rings. Jihoon grabs his phone to dismiss the call, but then he sees it's from Joshua, along with about two dozen texts.

Jihoon groans and picks up the call. "What?"

"Where are you? Seungcheol says our manager is looking for us, we gotta get back right now."

"Right now?"

"Yes. Meet us at the front and if you're not there in three minutes I'm hunting you down."

The phone call ends and Jihoon sighs.

"Ah, you have to leave, don't you?" You ask.

"Yeah."

You look sad for a moment before you perk up. "How long are you guys in town?"

"A few more days. This is kind of a vacation for us."

"Great! Here." You grab Jihoon's phone out of his hand and quickly type something. "That's my number. Maybe we can meet up later in the week. Since you're blue balling me right now," you tease.

"Y-yeah, okay."

"See you later Jihoon." You press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jihoon bids you goodbye and makes his way to the front of the building, hoping Joshua and Vernon don’t notice the straining bulge in his pants.

The next day the rest of Seventeen are planning what they want to do, but Jihoon is texting you. He worries that it might be too soon to ask to see you today, since you just saw him yesterday, but you tell Jihoon you’d be more than happy to see him today.

You send Jihoon a text with an address and when Jihoon pulls it up in maps, it comes up with an apartment complex. Your apartment complex. Jihoon suddenly remembers that your band is New York City based. 

Jihoon is glad that you two will be out of the public eye, but the idea of being alone with you in your apartment drives Jihoon crazy. He really hopes you two can finish what you started last night. After all, you’re not the only one who got blue balled.

Jihoon ignores the rest of his member’s questions as he slips a cap and a mask on and leaves in one of the SUVs, giving the driver your address. Your apartment is closer to the outskirts of the city, but it’s a nicer building. Jihoon is sure that only people who have a lot of money can afford to live here, which makes Jihoon feel better about privacy concerns.

Jihoon puts in the code you gave him to get into the building and he makes his way to your apartment. When he knocks on the door you open it within a few seconds.

“Jihoon!” You grin wide at him. “Come in!”

Your apartment is nice. It’s large with lots of windows and modern interior design. 

“I feel underdressed,” Jihoon mutters. He’s in just sweats and a t-shirt.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m pretty underdressed as well.” You’re in a soft looking skirt and a tank top. You look really good. Jihoon has to look away when he notices you’re not wearing a bra, your nipples pebbling under the cloth of your shirt.

Jihoon knows why he asked you to hang out, but he feels too awkward to jump right into it. You seem to share the same sentiment as you move into the kitchen and grab two cans of coke out of your fridge, handing one to Jihoon. You two move into your living room area to the couch.

You have a few things scattered around and there’s pieces of sheet music all over your coffee table and couch.

“Sorry about that,” you tell him as you pick the papers up before sitting down. “Those are just songs I’m failing to write.”

“Failing?”

“Yeah. I can’t seem to finish them. I get ideas and then get caught up on stupid things,” you say with a shrug.

“I could look at them for you, if you want.” The words leave Jihoon’s mouth before he realizes what he’s saying. “Only if you want me to! I don’t want to overstep or-”

“No, that would be perfect! Could you? Let me get my bass!” You jump up and run into a room before emerging with your signature bass guitar. 

It’s even prettier up close and it looks loved but well taken care of. Jihoon’s gaze doesn’t falter as he watches you play. You yourself are lost in the music, focusing on playing and singing the parts of your song you have finished. Your fingers glide up and down the next of your guitar as you tap your foot against the ground to keep beat. With the sun shining through your open windows, you look beautiful like this. Completely in your element.

Jihoon has to remind himself of the task at hand and when he starts to really listen, he realizes it’s very different from the normal stuff your band does. It’s still just as explicit as your normal work, but it feels more raw and visceral. He brings it up when you’re done.

“Oh yeah, this is actually music for a solo project I’m working on,” you tell him. “I’m really not supposed to tell anyone, but I trust you Jihoon.” Yeah, his stomach does flutter a bit. “When I write I can usually just focus on all of the sexual stuff, but I’m trying to add in more emotions with it, but I’m kind of struggling a lot.” 

“What you have is good. Let me hear some of the other stuff you’re working on and we can go from there.”

That’s how you and Jihoon end up spending a good part of the day working on music together. Jihoon doesn’t mind though, he loves music and something about writing and composing with you feels right. Both of your minds work in different ways, but combined you are able to piece together the songs until they’re perfect.

It’s comfortable, being in your apartment with you, doing the thing he loves. It feels like you two have known each other a lot longer than two days. You two just…click and it makes Jihoon feel warm when he thinks about it.

“Jihoon, thank you so much for doing this for me,” you tell him after you two finish another song. “I know this probably isn’t what you expected to do today.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m really enjoying myself. I think I’d enjoy doing anything with you.”

“Jihoon,” you say softly. You’re staring at him again, with your alluring eyes that just draw Jihoon in. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Jihoon breathes out and before he can even finish his breath, you’re leaning in. 

You cup Jihoon’s face, kissing him fiercely as you do. Jihoon nearly topples off the couch, but he grabs on to you, kissing you back. Your lips clash together as you do your best to taste each other as much as you can. As much as Jihoon loves song writing, he can’t deny that your songs are very sexually charged, and it’s definitely gotten him worked up in the hours he’s been here.

You two pull away panting, and you rest your forehead against Jihoon’s. “Do you want to…”

“Yes,” Jihoon nods, jostling your head as well. You grin and stand up, grabbing Jihoon’s hand to drag him behind you as you make your way to your bedroom, just like how you dragged him into the empty hallway last night. Hopefully today there won’t be any interruptions.

Once in the bedroom Jihoon grabs your waist and pulls you back into him, your lips crashing together. Your lips are so soft and Jihoon wants to kiss you forever. He reaches up to paw at your chest, feeling your pebbled nipple under his palm. He squeezes a bit too hard at one point and you gasp into Jihoon’s mouth and he decides he wants to get you to do that again.

Jihoon pushes you back until you fall onto the bed and he can crawl over you. He helps you tug off your tank top before leaning down to take one of your tits right into his mouth, his tongue and teeth gently playing with your nipple.

You squirm under his ministrations and Jihoon slots his thigh between your legs so you can grind against him like last time. You seem appreciative of the rough feeling of his knee against you as you roll your hips against him.

“J-Jihoon,” you moan. 

Your tits are slick with his saliva now and he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before releasing it. When he looks down at you he lets out a soft groan, his heavy cock stirring in his boxers. Your hair is already mussed a bit and your face looks warm as you stare up at him with soft eyes. Your bare chest is littered in forming purple and red marks and Jihoon watches as it rises and falls with your breaths. Jihoon can’t help but revel in the fact this is for him only. No fans or cameras or anything else to see you like this, bare and vulnerable.

Jihoon pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, and he watches the way your eyes trail down his pale, chiseled torso. Your hands reach up for him and you pull him back down on top of you, his weight settling on your body. Your fingers trail up and down his bare skin, your mouth pressed hot and firm against his.

Your leg is thrown around Jihoon’s waist and he rolls his hips into yours, his hard cock brushing up against your wet core. You mewl into Jihoon’s mouth, your fingers digging into the muscles on his back.

“F-fuck Jihoon, please. Please touch me,” you beg, your voice high pitched and desperate, making it impossible to say no (not that Jihoon would).

Jihoon peels his body away from yours once more before hooking his fingers into your skirt and pulling it down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear. Jihoon nearly starts drooling when he sees the lacy, red panties hugging your hips. His fingers trail up your leg and he rubs a thumb over your hip bone against the rough fabric.

“I thought you said you were underdressed. You wore these just for me?”

You nod. “Thought you’d like them.”

“I do. Though, I think I’d like them better off.” With that he tugs the fabric down your legs as well, discarding them on your floor.

You gasp when Jihoon pushes your legs apart so he can get a better look at what’s between them. Your pussy is already shiny and slick with your arousal, begging to be filled by something. Jihoon reaches out and trails his fingertips against your puffy folds, prodding and rubbing in a way that’s nothing but teasing.

You squirm under Jihoon’s touch, but Jihoon just ignores you, too busy admiring how pretty your pussy looks right now. His fingers slip between your folds and dip down into your opening, only to pull back a second later. When his fingers emerge they’re covered in your arousal and he uses the slick to slide his fingers up your slit, catching on your clit. You intake a sharp breath as your body stiffens.

Jihoon grins and starts to rub your clit in gentle circles. Slow and almost lazily, his fingers go around and around with no real vigor. Jihoon can see the way your pussy is leaking, dripping down onto your bed. You’ve been letting out soft whines as Jihoon touches you, impatient for him to do more. 

After what probably feels like an eternity to you, Jihoon finally slips his fingers lower before pushing two right into you. Your cunt is well slicked up and greedily accepts the digits being slipped inside. Your walls are warm and soft around Jihoon’s fingers and he slowly drags his fingers out of you before slamming them back in. He juts his fingers in and out of you as he strokes your walls with his fingertips. 

To Jihoon it’s not much different than playing the piano the way his fingers move skillfully in precise ways to hit all the right places. In a way this is also like making music; the sound of your soft moans and pants filling the air, mixing with the slight squeak of your bed frame and the wet slap of his fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. It’s erotic and intimate and beautiful.

Below him, your body is shaking on the bed. Your fingers grasp at the sheets below you as your hips rut up into Jihoon’s palm. Jihoon’s whole hand is drenched now and his wrist is starting to ache, but he doesn’t dare stop.

“Fuck, fuck, Ji,” you mumble as your legs start to buck into the air. Jihoon pushes your hips down with his free hand and you let out a long moan as your walls clench down on Jihoon’s fingers as this thumb rapidly rubs at your clit.

Your hips roll against Jihoon’s hand for a few more seconds before your body relaxes into the bed. Jihoon stares down at you in awe. You grin up at him.

“That was…so good,” you say, still a bit breathless. “But…I think I need more. Fuck me, please?”

There is no way Jihoon is going to say no to a proposal like that. You direct him in the direction of your condom stash and Jihoon quickly shucks off his pants and boxers. He’s about to start rolling on the condom when he hears you gasp.

“You’re huge,” you say. When Jihoon looks up, you’re staring directly at his crotch. Jihoon’s aware is he…well endowed. His cock is about six inches long, but wide in girth. “Shit Jihoon, get in me right now.”

Jihoon chuckles and continues to roll on the condom before climbing back into the bed. He pushes you back against the mattress and leans down to kiss you. While your lips are still locked together he hikes one of your legs around his waist before lining himself up to your entrance. He rubs his head against your folds before finally pushing the tip in. 

Jihoon’s mouth breaks off of yours and he trails wet kisses down your neck to your chest where he latches onto one of your breasts. His hips rut into you, slowly shoving his fat cock into your desperate cunt as you dig your fingers into his triceps. 

Your walls hug him tightly and it makes his mind a bit fuzzy, his only focus being on you under him. Your scent floods Jihoon’s nose as he buries his face into your tits and he wants nothing more than to eat you whole. He mouths at your peaked nipples, nipping and licking everywhere he can, marking you with his love bites.

Jihoon swears he’s the luckiest man in the world, being able to lay here in your bed, marking up your tits. How many photos has he seen of them? How many people has he seen thirsting over you because of them? And here he is, being able to devour them all for himself.

Inside of you, his cock pounds at your walls, stretching you open. The rhythm Jihoon set is quick, but not brutal, and the drag of his cock in and out of you leaves both of you with a pleasured feeling coursing through your bodies.

“God, you’re so hot,” you moan out. “Used to dream about moments like this. I would watch compilations of you grinding on the floor to the Good to Me choreo.”

The words send a flush to Jihoon’s already warm face. He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed or find that incredibly hot. Maybe a bit of both. All he knows is that he’ll never be able to think of that song the same anymore.

Everything about you is intoxicating to the idol. Particularly in this moment though, the way you keep whimpering his name is driving him mad. Jihoon’s grip on your hips tightens as he rocks into you harder, his cock slamming into your sweet spot, making you cry out even harder.

Jihoon can feel his balls get heavier, ready to cum. He latches his mouth onto your neck and sucks hard as his fingers flit down to rapidly play with your clit. He’s hoping to get you to finish before him, but his orgasm hits him by surprise and his hips are stuttering as he releases his load into the condom. He doesn’t dare stop fucking into you though, even after he’s milked himself dry with your pussy. Jihoon doesn’t let himself rest until your body is shaking under him, your cunt clenching down as your nails dig into Jihoon’s skin. 

When you’re finally coming down from your high, Jihoon gently pulls out of you before tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash. He flops down on the bed next to you and you cuddle right into his side, pressing a kiss right to his pec.

He reaches up to rub his hand up and down your back as you two lay there in silence, pressing kisses to each other’s bare skin.

Jihoon isn’t sure how long you two stay like that, until your kisses get a bit more meaningful and suddenly Jihoon is pinning you against the bed. His cock is already half hard again and it doesn’t take much to get it to full mast.

Your second round is softer, but just as intense. There’s a more romantic passion behind Jihoon’s motions as he takes his time getting you both off. Sensual kisses are traded as you and Jihoon whisper praises back and forth.

Halfway through fucking you Jihoon has the fleeting thought that he doesn’t want this to end. You both end up cumming together, your names falling off of each other’s lips with your foreheads pressed together. It’s oddly adorable and it takes Jihoon longer to pull out of you, completely content to keep his cock in you as you two lay cuddled in your bed.

When Jihoon finally does get up to discard the used condom and get something to clean you up, the sun is starting to set and Jihoon curses. When he checks his phone, his predictions are proved right at the sight of the numerous texts from their manager and Seungcheol.

You seem to realize this as well when Jihoon walks back to the bed and starts to get dressed.

“Do you really have to leave?” You look up at Jihoon. You look so cozy, cuddled up in bed, still naked. It really makes Jihoon want to stay and jump back in bed and tangle himself up with you again.

“Yeah, they need me back at the hotel,” he says instead, a bit discouraged as well.

“You’re in town for a few more days right?”

“Yeah, until Sunday.”

You reach out and grab Jihoon’s hand, pulling him to sit on the bed. You sit up as well, curling your bare body around his clothed form. You press a kiss to his ear.

“If you find the time, you should come to my concert on Friday.” Sleep laces your voice as you talk to Jihoon. Your body is warm pressed against him and Jihoon has never been more tempted to ignore his manager in his life. “We’re having a pop up concert to celebrate our fifth anniversary. I can get you seats in our VIP sections so no one would see you. I’ll text you the details but don’t feel pressured to come. Just, if you and your band want to do something fun, I can get the tickets.”

Jihoon nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Jihoon turns to face you and you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you then. I’d walk you out but…” You gesture to your undressed form and Jihoon laughs.

“See you Friday. Sleep well Y/N.” Jihoon presses one final kiss to your lips before leaving your apartment, already missing you by the time he walks out the door.

The rest of the week Jihoon can’t do anything but wait for Friday, excited for your concert. He can’t wait to hear your band play live again, but mostly he can’t wait to see you again. You’ve been plaguing his mind since he last saw you, and it’s not just the sex. Jihoon can’t deny the pure, unbridled chemistry between you two and it makes his heart thump in his chest.

When Jihoon brings up the idea to his members about going to see your concert they all say it could be fun and Jihoon sends you a text affirming their attendance. Jihoon thinks it’s a little silly, his group of K-Pop idols going to go see your very explicit rock band perform.

When Friday comes Jihoon takes his time dressing up and he tries not to hit Soonyoung when he points it out. 

The concert starts at around 8:00pm and doors open an hour earlier than that, but you told Jihoon to arrive a bit earlier so it would be less obvious to spot them going in. When the boys get there a quarter after 6:00, they are ushered in through the back doors.

Backstage hands are bustling around and there are a few people shouting at each other. The venue space is nice, but not too big. From what Jihoon saw online, it’s a pretty exclusive concert to see live, but tickets were sold for online streaming as well.

The boys are shown to their seats in a balcony room with glass covering one of the walls so they can see the stage. It seems to have some kind of film on the other side so they can see out, but nobody can see in.

“Wah, this is nice,” Seokmin says as he looks around the room.

“And for free too, Jihoonie hooked us up well,” Seungcheol adds. “This Y/N girl must like you a lot.”

Jihoon can feel his ears heating up. “Yah, all of you shut up.”

He turns away from his members, too embarrassed to continue the conversation. Jihoon does have to admit, you really are doing a lot giving free tickets to the thirteen men on such a short notice, and to get them into such a nice room.

When the doors open, Jihoon watches as your fans flood into the room. He can hear the chatter of everyone and he smiles at how excited all of your fans are to see you. The whole place packs up soon as everyone waits impatiently for the show to start.

Then the time hits and everyone is screaming as your band walks onto the stage. Jihoon’s eyes automatically fall to your figure and his heart beats against his ribcage. You’ve got a wide smile on your face as you strap your bass onto your body and walk up to your mic.

“Let’s make some noise!” Luka shouts into the mic and everyone erupts into applause. “Welcome to our 5th anniversary pop up concert, we are LADYKILLER, and tonight, we’re gonna have a good time. We’ll be keeping this casual tonight so get comfortable, get hype, and enjoy this first song.” 

Jihoon’s eyes trail up and down your figure as your fingers fly over the strings of your bass. You’re dressed in a black leather boots, a short black denim skirt, and a silky white tank top lined with black lace. Your top looks closer to lingerie than an actual shirt and Jihoon can tell once again you’re not wearing a bra underneath.

You didn’t bother covering the hickies Jihoon left all over your chest and Jihoon feels his face heat up. The dark purple marks are scattered all over your bare skin and even though he’s a bit mortified, he’s also a bit proud.

Jihoon’s not the only one who notices the hickeys and he can feel his members send him suggestive looks as they watch the performance. Jihoon does his best to ignore them and focus on the band playing.

Jihoon admires how good you look up on stage. You really know how to work the crowd and you’re nothing short of mesmerizing to Jihoon. Every video he’s seen of you on stage doesn’t nearly do the real thing justice. After the first four songs your band stops the setlist to do some fan interaction.

“Y/N!” Someone calls from the audience. “Who gave you those hickeys!” 

Jihoon wants to die as his members start to howl in their booth and Jihoon hopes that it’s sound proof. You just laugh along.

“Ah, these? They’re pretty aren’t they?” You run your fingers over your clavicle. “Now for who gave them to me…it’s not very nice of me to kiss and tell is it? But who knows? Maybe the perpetrator is sitting in this very room right now.” You wink at the audience and everyone goes crazy, screaming at your words.

The concert is fun, with lots of crowd interactions as you guys answer questions and give your own anecdotes from the past five years. You guys even tease your next album, sending the crowd into a frenzy when they see the teaser for one of the music videos.

It isn’t until closer to the end of the concert that Jihoon starts to have a real problem. In one of your most popular songs there’s a wicked bass solo that consists of you playing for two minutes straight and it’s one of the reasons why you are one of the more popular members of your group (on top of well…you know). Normally Jihoon would be entranced by the skillful way you play your instrument, putting your whole heart and soul into your solo, but today he can’t focus on anything other than the way you look.

You look sultry as you smirk out at the audience. At one point your eyes flit up to where Jihoon is sitting and you wink and Jihoon thinks he might pass out from how sexy you look right now. You put your whole body into playing and when you bend over, Jihoon can see your bare tits hanging freely in the air and he has to shift around to adjust his growing hard on. He doesn’t know if he should worship or despise whoever your stylist is.

Behind him, he can hear Jeonghan and Joshua snickering. Jihoon does his best to think about anything that will get his semi-hard cock to go down, but unfortunately for him the last song in your set list is hands down the most sexually charged. 

As soon as the opening notes are heard, the whole atmosphere of the room changes. The lights dim as red accent lights bask the stage. Jihoon can’t peel his eyes away from you as you move with the music, your hips swaying along in a hypnotizing way.

He gasps a bit when Luka comes up behind you and grabs your hips, practically grinding on you as he sways with you. His hands travel up your sides and he brushes his fingertips over the upper part of your chest. When his hands move back down, this time they’re pressed to your front, dragging over your tits and down your stomach before he finally pulls away.

The whole time the crowd is hooked, and so is Jihoon. He’s a bit jealous that someone else is touching you in such an intimate way, but he knows it’s nothing but fan service, so he instead focused on how incredibly erotic he finds the moment, imagining he’s the one touching you instead.

After the song is finished your band thanks the audience before exiting the stage. The whole room is still buzzing with energy as they start to exit and Jihoon’s members seem to be hyped up as well.

“I see why you like them Jihoon,” Mingyu says and Jeonghan snorts.

“I can too.”

Jihoon groans but thankfully he’s saved when someone comes to retrieve them and guide them to the backstage area where your band is standing. You’re leaning against an audio case, drinking a bottle of water. Your body is shining with the post concert glow Jihoon is so familiar with. Jihoon is lost staring at you when a voice grabs his attention.

“Hey Y/N, isn’t that your boyfriend?” It’s Tommy who says this as he glances over to where Jihoon and the rest of Seventeen stands. Jihoon tries not to get flustered over his choice of words.

When you look over to where Tommy is motioning, your face instantly lights up at the sight of Jihoon. You stand up and cross the stage quickly before drawing Jihoon into a hug. “Jihoon!”

Jihoon snakes his arms around you and hugs you back. Your body is still warm from performing on stage and you feel nice pressed up against him. “Hi Y/N.”

“I missed you,” you whisper in his ear, just soft enough that only he can hear. His heart flutters at the words.

“Yo!” At the loud shouting you and Jihoon pull apart, just in time to see Vernon and James engage in a bro hug. You giggle at the two boys and Jihoon realizes that your hand has moved to hold onto his tightly.

The rest of your band is walking over and Tommy and Luka greet Vernon and Joshua. While everyone makes conversation you squeeze Jihoon’s hand and pull him away. He follows after, figuring his boys will be occupied with your boys for a while.

You pull Jihoon away from the backstage area and into your dressing room. It’s nice and large with a plush looking couch pushed against one wall. As soon as you close the door of your room you’re pushing Jihoon onto the couch and climbing on top of him, placing a leg on either side of his thick thighs. Automatically Jihoon’s hands fly up to hold your waist.

Your own hands cup Jihoon’s face as you kiss him softly. He kisses you back, soft and sweet. When you pull away from him, you wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling into his body.

“I’m so happy to see you.”

Jihoon is almost relieved to hear those words. The whole week he questioned if he was weird to miss you so much after only meeting twice. He likes knowing you feel the same.

“I’m happy to see you too. You looked great up there.” As he talks to you his hands rub up and down your sides, enjoying the silky feeling of your shirt under his palms.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Really great.” Jihoon shifts under you a bit, hoping you get the message. You obviously do when you giggle and lean down, pressing your mouth to his ear.

“You know Ji, I’m always so horny after performing. Help a girl out?”

Jihoon nods frantically and then before he can even blink your mouth is pressed up against his in a hot, wet kiss. Your fingers grasp the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you close to him. Jihoon can’t help but love the feeling of being able to have you like this again. You two fit together nicely and Jihoon wants to keep you in his lap forever.

Your thighs are tightly locked around his waist as you grind down on his crotch. Jihoon’s arms tighten around you even more as he bucks up into you. He’s been trying to keep his boner at bay but now that he has you all alone, he can stop caring. He rubs himself up against your warm core, already wet through your panties.

Something about the way you so easily fall apart in Jihoon’s arms drives him particularly mad. The soft whimpers that leave the back of your throat as you grasp at him more and more desperately. When Jihoon pulls away to catch his breath your lips are trailing after his, not quite wanting to let him go soon. Maybe Jihoon likes it because he’s just as obsessed with you as you are with him. He leans down to press open mouthed kisses to your throat and you giggle as he does.

“Didn’t even bother hiding them,” Jihoon mutters, his fingers trailing across the old bruises splayed across your chest.

“I wanted to show them off! You did such a pretty job.” You shake your chest a bit to show them off more, but Jihoon can only focus on the jiggle of your tits in his face. Jihoon dives down, his tongue laving right over them.

He can taste the salt of your sweat on your skin and it’s oddly intoxicating mixed with the scent of your expensive perfume and your weight pressing down on him. His cock is aching in his pants now, begging to find release.

You seem to realize this as you pull away from Jihoon and slip off his lap and onto the floor. The sight of you on your knees in front of Jihoon is nearly enough to make him cum on the spot. You look up at him with big pleading eyes and Jihoon forces himself to burn the image into his memory.

“Ji,” you whine, “lemme suck you. Please. You look so good tonight, I need your cock between my lips.”

Jihoon’s in a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. It’s not much but he’s aware he looks good in the get up. He’s glad you’ve noticed as well. Jihoon internally gloats that while Soonyoung might of made fun of him, he’s the one getting his dick wet right now.

Jihoon shifts his hips a bit to signal you to go ahead and you dive right in, unzipping his pants and taking his cock out. It springs out of its constraints, heavy and hard as you hold it in your grasp. Without breaking eye contact with Jihoon you lean down and wrap your lips around the tip, sucking gently.

Jihoon takes an unsteady breath, not sure how long he’ll be able to hold out. He’s never wanted to cum as badly as he does now, watching the sight of your warm, soft lips on his thick, red cock head. Jihoon feels your tongue press up against his sensitive tip, lapping at where his precum has started to pearl, and he shudders.

He has to stop himself from grabbing your head and shoving it down his length. Instead he digs his fingers into the couch cushions next to him and goes his best not to thrust up into your mouth. You must sense Jihoon’s eagerness though, as you stop your coy act and widen your jaw, taking more of him in you. You bob your head up and down, your lips and tongue dragging against his cock, shooting pleasure through Jihoon’s body.

The sounds your mouth makes are the lewdest noises Jihoon has ever heard and he gets a picture to match it as he stares down at you. Your hands are wrapped around his length where your mouth can’t reach and your eyes are closed, focused on getting Jihoon off.

Your mouth and hands are skilled as you quickly work Jihoon to his high. You suck particularly hard at his tip and without much warning he’s bucking up into your throat, spilling his seed into you. Jihoon almost cums a second time just from watching you swallow down the load he gave you.

When you’re done swallowing, you open your mouth for Jihoon to see you took all of it and Jihoon can’t help himself from grabbing your jaw and running his thumb across your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth. You automatically wrap your lips around it, sucking on it just like you did with his cock a few seconds ago. When you finally pop the digit out of your mouth, Jihoon’s cock is already starting to stir again.

Jihoon is aware you’ve probably done a lot of hooks up before. You’re a rockstar who writes songs about sex, of course you have to get your inspiration from somewhere. Still, the thought makes Jihoon a bit jealous and he has to push it down in turn to watch you start to strip for him.

You start with your top, easily tugging it over your head and tossing it to the side. Your tits are just as perfect as Jihoon remembers them. Jihoon stands up from the couch, his dick still hanging out of his jeans, as he crosses to where you’re standing. Without saying a word he reaches out and gropes your tits in his palms. As his fingers knead at your breasts, he leans in, connecting your lips together.

You let out a hiss that turns into a moan as Jihoon pinches your left nipple hard. Your hands scramble to push Jihoon’s jacket off his shoulders, the article of clothing falling to the ground with your discarded shirt.

His shirt is the next to go and Jihoon lets out a dissatisfied grunt when he has to pull his mouth away from yours. He’s not too upset by it though, because now he gets to feel your tits press up against his own chest. Both of your bodies are on fire and the actual heat of your dressing room isn’t helping either, suffocating his thoughts so the only thing on his mind is you and your pretty little cunt.

Speaking of your pretty little cunt, Jihoon’s fingers work frantically at the buttons of your skirt so he can have better access to it. He pushes your skirt down your hips and grabs one of your thighs, wrapping it around his waist so he can grind his dripping cock against your drenched panties. He groans against your shoulder when he feels the rough fabric of the lace against his tip.

Jihoon steps back from you to take off the rest of his clothes and he gets a good look at you then. Your lips are dark and swollen from how aggressively you two have been kissing and your chest is already starting to sprout new bruises from Jihoon’s relentless attacks on the soft skin. You’ve also shed your last layer and Jihoon gets a good look at your needy pussy.

Jihoon lets out a long exhale, his body screaming at him to fuck you.

He’s about to when he comes to a realization, causing him to curse softly. He doesn’t have a condom. He tells you that.

“Doesn't matter,” you tell him. “I’m on the pill and I’m 100% clean. Condoms were just a secondary precaution, but I need you in me now. Please Jihoon, just fuck me.” 

The thought sends Jihoon off. You just gave him permission to fuck you raw. The thought of your warm, wet walls wrapped around Jihoon’s cock without any barriers has Jihoon grabbing you and bending you over right there. You yelp a bit at being thrown around, but it quickly turns into a moan when you feel Jihoon grind up against your exposed folds.

“Ah~ Jihoon, please,” you beg. You sound so needy that Jihoon has no choice but to shove his cock into you. Your walls wrap around him desperately as he pushes into you. The fit is tight and Jihoon has to take a shaky breath before he starts to ram into you.

He can tell his cock is still just a bit too girthy for you from the way you whine every time he re-enters you. He slides his hand up your spine to between your shoulder blades and he presses down, pushing you into the couch cushions. 

Jihoon feels like he’s in a porno with the way he’s fucking you. When he glances to where your bodies are connected, a creamy ring has started to form around his base from your pussy. The recoil of your ass as he thrusts into you is hypnotizing and he has to pull his eyes away not to get too distracted. He slides his hand up further and into your hair, pulling back to lift your head off the couch.

Jihoon can’t believe he gets to be here with you like this again, his cock digging deep into your sweet cunt. His fingers tug at your hair a bit harder and your walls clench down around him, sending Jihoon’s brain and dick into a frenzy. 

“You like that jagiya?”

“Yes, yes, fuck Jihoon. I love it. Love your big fat cock and your strong hands and your sexy voice,” you ramble on, your voice tense and labored, taking breaks between your words just to catch your breath. 

Jihoon’s free hand lifts up off your hip, only to go flying back down against your ass, resounding in a loud slap echoing through the room mixed with your moan. Your ass is red when he pulls his hand back and Jihoon does it twice more before smiling, satisfied with the way it seemed to turn your brain off even more.

You look so pretty under him, sharing your pleasure with Jihoon as he uses your body to get himself off. When Jihoon glances at your face, your eyes are closed shut, tears spilling down your cheeks as a line of drool connects from your mouth to the couch. Jihoon’s stomach tightens as he watches you and he knows he’s close.

“Shit, Y/N,” Jihoon growls out as a warning before he’s pressing his hips flush against your, releasing his load straight into your pussy. At the feeling of his cum shooting into you, you cry out, your walls clenching down on him, pulsating.

Jihoon is panting as he pulls out of you, him cum spilling out along with it. His cum slides to the floor in thick globs and you groan at the feeling of it exiting your pussy. With shaky legs you stand up, clinging to Jihoon for support as you pull him into a kiss. Your mouths and teeth clash together, but it doesn’t matter because your lips are tangling together and Jihoon can taste you against his tongue and for now that subdues the urge to devour you.

Despite both of you just cumming, neither of you give yourselves time to rest. You push Jihoon back onto the couch before climbing into his lap again. Only this time, you line yourself back up with his cock before sinking down on him. His cock is still hard and he’s still terribly turned on so he’s not complaining. He’s grateful for his idol stamina or else he’s not sure he would be able to keep up with your insatiable desires.

“Shit, you’re still so tight,” Jihoon grunts. “Your cunt is perfect for my cock. So good for me.”

His grip on your hips is tight, probably too tight, but he can’t be bothered to care when your head is thrown back and the nastiest sounds are leaving your lips. Your tits bounce freely in his face as you fuck yourself on his lap and Jihoon can’t do anything other than stare in awe at them, enjoying the show.

“God Jihoon, you feel so good in me,” you cry out. Your fingers are perched on his shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle so you can anchor yourself better.

As you bounce up and down on Jihoon’s cock, more of his cum pushes out of your cunt and drips onto Jihoon’s lap along with all of the slick your pussy is producing. Jihoon wants to cum in you again, already obsessed with filling up your tight cunt with his seed. 

His hands travel up your body and he gropes your tits harshly, pinch the nipples and scraping his teeth over your sensitive buds. You look like you’re about to ascend to heaven as you roll your eyes back into your head, moaning like your life depends on it.

It’s enough to get Jihoon desperate to go over the edge and he wraps his arms around your hips before pulling your body against his. You press your weight against his body, your legs giving out on you, as Jihoon starts to buck up into your sweet cunt. He’s sure the pressure is brutal inside of you, leaving you with a bruised cervix for later, but Jihoon only has one focus right now so he can’t bother being nice. He buries his face in your neck, doing everything to reach his high.

You seem to reach yours first, your body trembling in his grip as you trap his cock in a vice grip. This is enough to finally get Jihoon to cum for a third time tonight, spilling it all into your pussy again.

Jihoon’s body is sweaty and hot and he’s exhausted as he slumps back against the couch, out of breath with no thoughts in his mind. You don’t look much better as you drop your body on top of his, your eyes closing as you nuzzle your head against his chest.

Neither of you say anything for a while, just doing your best to regain your bearings and enjoy the feeling of your bodies sandwiched together. At some point Jihoon’s now flaccid cock slips out of you, but you don’t get off his lap yet. 

When you two do finally pull apart Jihoon is still feeling a bit light headed but he’s at least back down on Earth as he kisses your tear stained cheeks, rubbing your back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, very good,” you tell him. “Just…very tired now.”

Jihoon chuckles and stands up to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge sitting to the side of the room. You take it and chug the whole thing down. While you do that Jihoon looks around the room for something to clean you both up with. There’s a box of tissues sitting on your vanity and he grabs that and starts to wipe himself down before doing the same to you. It’s not the best clean up he’s ever done, but it’s the best he can do for now.

Jihoon finds his clothes and puts his boxers back on before crawling back onto the couch next to you. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You’re cute, you know that?” You mumble into Jihoon’s collarbone. “Right before you were gonna cum, you started mumbling in Korean.”

Jihoon flushes. He didn’t even know he was talking, let alone in Korean.

He settles on saying, “Your moans are cuter though.”

You stay silent for a moment before speaking up again, your voice more somber this time. “You’re leaving soon right?”

“Yeah, Sunday morning, so in two days.”

You snuggle a bit closer into Jihoon. “Would it be ridiculous to say I think I’ve gotten attached to you.”

Jihoon huffs out a laugh. “Not ridiculous, I think I feel the same.”

The truth is, Jihoon has gotten attached to you, even after only two days of interaction. There’s something so alluring about you that draws Jihoon in. Just like a siren calling a fisherman, you’ve drawn him in and it’s only due time before he crashes.

Your presence is comfortable and everything feels natural with you, it feels right. Jihoon doesn’t want it to end. He wants to store you away in his suitcase and bring you back to Korea with him. Everyday he’d get to wake up next to you, your pretty smile being the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. You two would spend your days making music and cuddling on the couch. Then at the end of the day Jihoon would be able to press you into the mattress and have his way with you, enjoying the taste of you lingering in his mouth and soaking up every pretty sound he pulls from your lips.

But, he can’t. He has to leave you here, thousands of miles away from him, with a thirteen hour time difference from New York to Seoul. Not to mention you have your own careers and Jihoon is well aware of the time and effort his own takes. The Carats absolutely wouldn’t have it if it was revealed he has a girlfriend, who he was living with. Especially one with your public image. They would rip you to shred.

But god does Jihoon wish it would work out.

“Hey,” you say softly. Your finger is tracing patterns against his chest. “Would you maybe…want to spend the night at my place?”

Jihoon looks down at you and nods. He doesn’t care if his managers are going to kill him, he’s going to spend as much time with you as he can before he leaves. He shoots a quick message to his members who promise they’ll cover for him and then before he knows it he’s being driven to your apartment.

When you two get into your unit you order food for the two of you and then you fall asleep in Jihoon’s arms when you’re done eating. It’s painfully domestic and Jihoon holds you the whole night, afraid to let you go.

In the morning, when you wake up, Jihoon bombards you with a barrage of kisses and you giggle as you pull Jihoon’s body even closer to yours. It doesn’t take long to get both of you riled up, leading to your clothes strewn on the floor as Jihoon sinks himself into you once more.

That’s how you two spend the rest of your day, limbs tangled together, making love as Jihoon does his best to burn the feeling of your bare body pressing against him into his memory.

His head is currently shoved between your thighs, suffocating in your drenched pussy. You’ve had his thigh, fingers, and cock once but Jihoon is determined to get you off at least five times today. For now he’s taking his time though. His mouth moves slowly, teasing you so you get unbearably needy for Jihoon to give you more.

His tongue drags through your folds, collecting your slick and swallowing it down. Between the taste of your arousal, the sweet smell of your cunt, and the feel of your pussy on his tongue, Jihoon’s mind is muddled with a lust induced haze and Jihoon wonders if this is what it feels like to get high.

Jihoon’s plump lips wrap around your clit and he sucks on it gently, just enough to stimulate you but not enough to actually do anything. You squirm and whine and tug at Jihoon’s hair, but he ignores your attempts to get him to do more, content with driving you crazy for now.

Your legs squeeze tight around Jihoon’s neck, pulling him even further into your cunt. Your thighs are like earmuffs over his ears, cutting off his last sense so there’s nothing but you. Jihoon ruts his hips into the mattress under him, his own cock leaking and hard. He has a bit more resolve than you though, and he clamps his thick hands on your thighs, prying them apart once more.

“Please Jihoon,” you beg. “I need more.”

Jihoon pretends he can’t hear you as drags his lips to kiss over your folds like he’s making out with your pussy. He does this a few more times before moving his mouth off your core completely, turning his head so he can suck marks into your thighs. 

“Jihoon,” your voice sounds genuinely desperate, like if Jihoon doesn’t do anything you’ll actually combust. This is what Jihoon has been waiting for and he tightens his grip on you before diving straight into your cunt.

His motions have purpose behind them now as he licks at your sopping cunt. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue flick back and forth over your hole. Your body is now trembling under him as you cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, Jihoon, shit.” The words tumble out of your mouth as your legs shake around his head. He keeps eating your pussy out until your body goes limp.

He’s a bit surprised you came so fast, but he guesses you were pretty worked up from all of the teasing. And the previous orgasms.

Jihoon’s only cum once though, compared to the four times you have, and he’s not going to let you rest until he gets his second in. He picks himself up from between your legs and climbs over your body. He kisses up your torso, stopping at your tits for a moment, before finally making his way to your lips.

He kisses you hard and fierce, too impatient to be soft at the moment. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Your hips buck up into him when you feel his cock drag over your slit, his precum spreading against your folds. Jihoon is sure he could get off just like this, rubbing your pussy on his cock, and if he was just a tad bit more desperate he would, but he’s still slightly level headed enough to make the decision he wants to cum inside of you.

Jihoon spreads your legs wide before sheathing himself right into you. Your cunt allows him in easily, slick and stretched out from all of Jihoon’s previous efforts. His pubes brush up against your clit as he bottoms out in one go.

You let out a weak moan as Jihoon lets out his own deep sigh. Your walls are warm and soft around his aching dick and Jihoon imagines this is exactly what heaven feels like. As much as Jihoon would like to take his time with you, he’s already done that earlier and while teasing you, he got himself a bit too worked up as well. 

Jihoon doesn’t waste time, plunging his cock in and out of your cunt. His cock hits deeper and harder into you each time, slamming into your plush walls. The noises you make make Jihoon want to fuck you even harder and he grabs your legs and pushes them up against your chest, exposing your cunt to him even more. The change in angle has his tip digging into a new place, making you moan even louder.

“Ji, Ji, Ji,” you chant as the man in question continues to slam his hips into yours. Jihoon groans as he looks down at you, his hands pushing down against your legs to keep them in place, folding you in half. 

“So pretty,” Jihoon grunts. “My pretty baby feels good from my cock?”

“Yes, yes, so much. Feels soooo good Jihoon.” You’re babbling at this point, barely coherent from the pleasure you feel. The thought makes Jihoon smirk, gaining the urge to drive you completely for the edge. 

One of his hands releases your legs and moves up to your neck, clamping around it. His fingers squeeze firmly and you gasp a bit. He feels your cunt tighten around him, causing him to squeeze even harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you throw your head back against your pillow.

Your skin is burning under Jihoon’s palm and he can feel the way your neck muscles move under his fingertips from the way you’re doing your best to let out strangled moans. Your body is already spent from the past four orgasms he’s given you, but he’s still not going to go easy on you. 

He wants you crying from his cock. Coming undone again and again and again until you can’t remember anything other than Jihoon. Nobody will ever be able to be as good as him and every time you go to write a new song, you think of him and this moment.

Your pussy keeps clenching down around him and Jihoon closes his eyes, trying to drag this out even more. He knows he won’t last much longer though. The warmth of the room combined with the warmth of your body has his own skin heating up, fogging up his brain. 

Jihoon feels your hand wrap around his wrist, pulling his fingers off your neck and moving them so they slip into your mouth. You suck on the digits, swirling your tongue around them, your taste buds pressing against his pads and that’s all it takes to send Jihoon over the edge. He cums deep into you, his cum shooting against your cervix.

Jihoon’s hips don’t stop though, pounding brutally into you, milking himself with your cunt. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and slips them between your bodies, flicking and rubbing at your clit furiously. It isn’t until he feels you tense up under him, that he finally pulls his dick out of you. As soon as he does, the flood gates are broken and your cunt is spraying your juices all over the bed and Jihoon. 

The idol watches the way your pussy pulsates when you’re done squirting. You look completely wrecked and ready to pass out and Jihoon sees that as a job well done. Your leg keeps twitching every so often and Jihoon reaches over and massages it.

You whine a bit at his touch but don’t pull away. “‘M so sensitive.”

“You did so good for me,” Jihoon coos. 

When Jihoon is sure that you’re not going to pass out he gets up and pads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water. When he gets back to the room he finds that you’ve rolled out of the wet spot you made and are now sitting up.

You take the water from him and chug it down before making a feeble attempt to stand up. Your legs shake a bit and Jihoon has to steady you. He helps you to the bathroom where he draws you a bath and moves back to your room to change out the sheets.

When you get out of your bath you crawl back into the freshly changed bed where Jihoon is laying waiting. You don’t hesitate to snuggle down into his arms.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you admit in a small voice.

Jihoon sighs. He doesn’t want to leave either.

“I know that it’s unreasonable to do long distance,” you continue, “and that we both have busy schedules but, I’d really like it if we kept in touch. Then maybe the next time you’re in America, or if I go to Korea, we could meet up again.”

Jihoon kisses the top of your head. “I’d really like that too.”

In reality, Jihoon isn’t sure what’s going to happen. He’d like to think that you guys will keep in touch because he really hopes you do and for once he’s letting himself be an optimist. It’s not exactly like he’ll be able to forget about you anyway, so it’s better to keep a place open for you in his heart.

Jihoon holds you tight until he no longer can and he leaves you once more with nothing but a kiss and a promise to text you. His heart aches in a way he didn’t know was possible as he boards the plane to fly back home to Korea. Just another reason for Jihoon to hate flying.

This time Vernon sits next to him and the younger holds an earbud out to him. Jihoon slips it into his ear and the sound of a familiar bass solo floods his mind. Jihoon sends a grateful look at his dongsaeng, letting your playing soothe his heart. 

By the time the song ends Jihoon’s head is filled with ideas for songs about you and his heart is warm with a feeling that everything is going to work out in the end.

.

.

.

"Did you hear who's going to be featured on LADYKILLER's new track?"

"No, who?"

"Woozi and Vernon from Seventeen."

"Damn, I already know it's gonna be good. I mean, Y/N and Woozi? Sounds like a match made in heaven."

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @spilled-coffee-cup @sulkygyu @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @valentxi @yeosayang @98-0603 @miriamxsworld @morklee02 @luvv4svt @tinkerbell460 @toruro @lllucere @novalpha @yongi-lee @seuomo @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @opwolfe

join my taglist: here!

#lee jihoon #woozi #woozi smut #woozi fanfic #woozi x reader #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #rru.fics #rru.writes #★ mdni

[sigynpenniman]

DID YOU WAKE UP THIS MORNING TO FIND AO3 BLOCKED ON YOUR WORK OR SCHOOL WIFI?

So, something has happened overnight.

Many major companies and institutions use a tech called Cisco Umbrella to block “potentially objectionable” domains - porn, violent content, etc. Cisco Umbrella primarily works using categories, which, while changable by users, are pre-set by Cisco. So Cisco builds a list of websites which are, for example, "adult," and then makes that a category that a company can block all at once from its network. When you, as a network admin, choose to block "adult" websites in cisco umbrella, if you don't make changes to that list yourself, everything in that list is blocked on the domain.

There's another system called OpenDNS. OpenDNS allows you to block websites on your *home* network. If you have an OpenDNS account you can also participate in what's called "community tagging." community tagging allows people to tag certain websites, and I guess if you use OpenDNS you can block things with those tags...idk, I don't use it.

Here's the bit that matters: OpenDNS and Cisco Umbrella are owned by the same company. It appears that Cisco Umbrella, to some extent, uses OpenDNS community tags to sort websites.

Someone on OpenDNS has community tagged Ao3 as a "tasteless" website. Community tags can be proposed by anyone, but they have to be approved by a moderator. It seems a moderator has approved this tag. Because of the moderator approved tag, it looks like Ao3 has been bundled into *Cisco Umbrella's* blocked sites list for "adult" content. So now, any library, school, business, etc which is blocking Cisco Umbrella’s “adult” category is now blocking Ao3.

Here’s how you can help.

Go here (https://signup.opendns.com/homefree/) to create an OpenDNS account. This is free. Don’t do any of the steps to create or configure a network, JUST make an account. Be sure to uncheck any promotional checkboxes. Once your account is made, be sure to confirm your email, and the confirmation may go into spam - mind did, just be aware. Once you have an account made, go to https://login.opendns.com/ and log in with the account you've made.

It should take you here.

From here, click the small "community" button at the top.

It will bring you here. You will be likely prompted to create a display name. Pick something random, you won't need it again.

Click on “domain tagging." It will bring you here.

There's a small searchbox in the top right labeled "check a domain." enter archiveofourown.org in this field and hit go. You should be brought here.

What you want to do now is hit the "Flag for Review" button under "Tagged: Tasteless." Don't worry about the other tags. They are candidate tags, not approved/applied and aren't doing anything. The "tasteless" one that's been mod approved is the only one we're worried about. "Flag for review" will open a small text box.

Type in whatever you like here, but PLEASE be academic and respectful. Focus on how "tasteless" is an inaccurate and offensive description for the content. Hit submit.

That's it, you're done.

I do want to be clear about one thing - I am not 100% sure this is going to remove this domain from the cisco adult list, but I'm hoping. The “tasteless” tag that is present on OpenDNS was submitted in 2015. Now, it is not clear when the moderator approved this tag. They may have approved it last night, or in 2015. That date does not appear to be visible. I’m not sure what happened overnight that caused Ao3 to slip into the Cisco umbrella adult category. My best guess is that either the tag was approved last night, or Cisco suddenly started grouping the “tasteless” community tag under adult. It is interesting to me that previous tags such as pornography have been actively mod rejected, so it looks like this one being approved might have been one person with a vendetta. Either way, right now, this seems to be the root of the issue. Domains can be individually allowed on networks by network admins, so if you have to petition your school or place of work it's possible, but I think if we can fix the OpenDNS tag, we can fix it everywhere at once. Hopefully, if we can get enough flags for review in a short enough period of time, it will force them to review it.

Come, help me out here. Let's try and get Ao3 unblocked on the country's schools and libraries.

#writing #ao3 #archive of our own

[koostarcandy]

heart ache

summary: a night where jungkook's back from a tiring day and you admire the tiniest of details.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: just fluff, there's nothing else going on here :P

a/n: these night thingies are becoming frequent now :] i hope you enjoy them anyway ^^ @yoursalaciouspizza here's what we were talking about and inspo from this moodboard by @httphyunjiin :D oktyily byeeeeeeeee <3

"how about one more kiss? looks sad, koo."

"it's just a bruise, baby. how about you have a bite of this pancake before my hand falls off?"

that would be really sad, you note. you oblige and take a forkful of sweet, sugary pancake, paired with tart strawberries. you let out a satisfied sound at the taste, urging your love to have a taste. his concentrated eyes relax when they meet yours, crinkling at the corners at your content face.

"is everything okay? you seem abit off, love."

you rub the apple of his cheek with your free hand, the other gently feeding him your midnight pancakes. the whole situation may seem ridiculous, laughable even but pancakes at approximately 12.33 a.m, along with your cuddly boyfriend is the perfect fix after a long day.

jungkook makes you drop the fork, guiding your hands around his neck and wrapping his muscly ones around your waist. he nuzzles his face into your neck, his freshly washed hair tickling your chin. you run your fingers through the slightly damp locks, envious of his always shiny hair.

"drop your haircare routine already," you mumble, rubbing your fingers over his temples when he practically moans in relief. "i use whatever you use, baby. let me do your hair next time, hmm?" he replies in between the impromptu massage, hands sneaking under your oversized tshirt, splayed over your back like a splash of warmth.

"everything hasn't been the best exactly but i still feel guilty," jungkook admits 3 pancakes in, head on your chest and hand over his filled tummy. "guilty? why?" you ask curiously, thumbs rubbing over his pink knuckles. "i'm not exactly underprivileged, you know? but there are days where i have to remind myself that people would actually kill to be where i am right now and have the things I want, it reminds me to not freak out over things like the wifi not working or something like that," he rambles, going on with saying that he reminds himself of his daily blessings despite going through harrowing times, never failing to feel grateful for everything he sees and gets. including you, he says sincerely.

"stressed but blessed seems like the appropriate title for what i'm feeling right now," jungkook chuckles, trying to melt further into you. you're silent, hands rubbing his back gently and playing with his hair. you've always admired him, for a variety of things. he's always been humble and gentle and kind, never failing to speak out a word or show a small action of gratitude for the most mundane of things you do for him. you got him that blueberry crumble from that place he really likes? he kisses your cheek and mumbles out 'thank you' like a prayer. you're still like a fluffy pillow, serving as a resting place for his tired head? he's on you in an instant, squeezing your waist in silent appreciation.

your eyes dart to his hand coming to your peripheral vision, brushing away your bangs. his sweet and hardworking hands. never failing to rub your back so you slip out of sleep's tight hold in the mornings, tying your hair into a bun when you get frustrated with it, handling you with the utmost care when you don't exactly feel your best. you take his large ones into your own, happy crescents meeting his when you place the smallest of kisses on his latest boxing bruise.

his sparkly eyes are tattooed to your brain, always making sure to bright up the darkest spots in your mind. they're the first thing you see in sleepy dawn and the last when you're finally in bed at late dusk. they always meet you in a room full of enigmatic eyes and yet they never fail to make you get lost in them. they provide you with the best comfort you can ever find, always losing yourself to their never ending warmth.

his strong arms squeeze around you when place a chaste kiss on his temple, feeling a smile in your neck. the arms which never fail to make you feel at home, snaking their way around you and making themselves comfortable. they sometimes serve as a mode of transport too, carrying you from the bedroom to the living room or when jungkook feels like you don't need to walk all the way to kitchen, picking you up and setting you on the counter. your hands slide to the pretty vines wrapped around you, tracing the intricate designs on his bicep.

everything about him, head to toe, every tiny mole to his boopable nose and his squishy cheeks, makes your heart ache in the most loving way possible. jungkook props his chin on your chest, head tilted to the side, wondering why you've been silent for the last half hour. your eyes are suddenly watering, hands flying to cover your face.

"darling? look at me, please. was it something i said? it wasn't offensive, right?"

you let out a watery laugh, fingers swiping at the underside of your eyes.

"you, it's you."

jungkook's even more confused now, sitting up and pulling you up with him. "but i'm your koo, baby, i can't make you cry. these are good tears, yes? please tell me they're happy tears."

you all but fall into him, hiding your face in his tshirt and letting your arms fall loosely around his lithe waist. "yes, koo, they're happy tears. i just love you too much," you say, going on to say it's the sugar talking and that in hindsight, sprinkling 145 grams of powdered sugar along with strawberry jam wasn't exactly the bestest midnight snack you've made so far. jungkook is quick to disagree, saying that what you did tonight was basically art.

"there you go again, baby, you do know that not everything i do is a work of art, right?"

"says the walking and talking masterpiece!"

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin ; @yoogijk

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #pls dont mjnd me im craving pancakes

[sashimiyas]

cw: suggestive content

“Harder, Iwa-chan, harder!”

“If you don’t shut your shitty mouth, Shittykawa.” Said man dodges an attack, one that consists of his toiletries bag thrown at him. It’s a foreseeable event because Iwaizumi’s predictable in that sense. He’s always been that way, structured, routine, disciplined.

“If you got all your shit together before we left and didn’t reopen it, we wouldn’t be here,” he complains.

“But I had to get out my passport,” Oikawa says while pulling harder on the zipper of his suitcase while his best friend pushes it closed, “and my face mask.”

“You’re a headache to this day.”

“But you had so much fun while I visited, right?”

Silence.

“Right?”

Your husband decides to focus on the task at hand, pressing his full weight onto Oikawa’s suitcase. Oikawa though, he’s taken to pouting into his best friend’s avoiding gaze. He weaves his head back and forth like a boxer dodging punches, while Iwaizumi cranes his neck to look at anything else but him.

“Yes, Tooru, we had so much fun while you were here,” you supply. The conversation won’t move until one of their stubborn butts budge and traffic is building behind you at this drop-off lane.

The brunette grins while your husband gives you a betrayed glare.

“Fine, fine,” Oikawa waves flippantly and goes back to the task at hand. He slides the zipper suspiciously easily. The Argentine setter then stands, a smug look upon his pretty face that you’ve learned to smile at, albeit while you roll your eyes. “I’ll visit for the holidays. You don’t have to beg.

Iwaizumi crosses his arms, staring at his best friend, and says, “sure, whatever.”

Both you and Oikawa know what that means. He looks to you, touched, and you return with an adored grin because for as much of a headache Oikawa is, he is family.

“Bye, Tooru!” you wave from your open window while your husband gives his friend one final hug. “Be safe! Let us know when you land.”

He waves back, already slowly walking away with his bright pink neck pillow latched onto his nape, “I’ll be updating you from the lounge with a glass of champagne and then from the plane with my free wifi.”

“Just when you land,” your husband tries to emphasize as he pushes his wide body over the middle console to yell out your side of the vehicle.

“Can’t hear you Iwa-chan! Bye! Love you!”

You watch the way your husband stiffens, how his lips thin into a line, suppressing the words that you know want to come out. So you nudge his shoulder. He looks at you with faux ignorance, one that says what but you know he knows what. You glare at him with your eyes and though Iwaizumi is strong at his core, he is weak to the ones he loves. And that includes Oikawa.

Iwaizumi groans as if the labor is difficult, but he stretches even further over your lap to get closer to your window, “bye! Love you!”

There’s a startled pause in Oikawa’s step. The two of you watch as he stands there for just a moment, a hand coming to his face and you can imagine it’s to hide his expression, whatever it may be. You’re guessing it’s elation.

Then, with his shoulders back and head high, Oikawa passes through the automatic doors and his figure is lost to the crowd.

Your husband returns to sit back in his seat properly. He signals to merge back into traffic, the sound of the clicking the only thing noise filling the car as the two of you fall back into the quiet routine of partnership.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

You nod, “no, it wasn’t. Terminal wasn’t busy.”

“Yeah, and there wasn’t any traffic.”

“Do we need to stop by anywhere while we’re here?”

“I don’t think so.”

It’s mundane. It’s boring. It’s nothing like how the past week has felt with Oikawa visiting. Though the silence is very welcome, it is a reminder that Oikawa is already missed.

But with the athlete gone, it also means the two of you are finally alone. And that means—

Your husband places a palm on your thigh. He does it effortlessly while he looks over his right shoulder to check for a blind spot before changing into a different lane.

He inhales deeply. It’s the kinds he does when he needs a little peace, ones he’d take right before knocking on your door when you first started dating, the one he needed to provide courage to get on one knee.

You look to him, sun shining spectacularly on his bronze skin as excitement builds in your chest because you know.

You think of the way Iwaizumi’s eyes had lingered on your body last night when you said you were off to sleep while he was still busy helping Oikawa pick an airport outfit. You think of how he bit his lips while you grabbed his ass when he went on for a kiss while Oikawa had quickly gone to use the bathroom. You remember the words he’d whisper into your ear when Oikawa wasn’t listening.

“Are we about to go home and have hot, crazy, tantric se—”

The beautiful man keeps his eyes on the road but he grips your thigh tighter. In his assured and seductive tone, as always, he gives you what you want.

"Fuck yes."

#reina.writeshaikyuu!! #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #word vommie but #about me again

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Hi!! Could you please write a Reader X sanji fic, where reader is struggling with her mental health, and sanji walks in on her crying?

Only if you;re comfortable!!

Homesick

pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader

warnings: generalized; can be platonic/romantic, sanji comfort:( <3, a bit of taz's physical touch love language possessing sanji

a/n: posting this with mall wifi how do i get in these situations idek

+ congratulations! you're the first to request hehe thank you!

You hadn't been feeling well, lately.

You absently skipped meals, lounged in your and Nami's shared room for most of the time, and spent most of the day sleeping whenever you weren't on adventures.

You were homesick, and it was messing you up badly.

You didn't think anyone noticed, with how everyone would go about their days. It was fair, since you had been trying your best to mask it. You didn't want to weigh everyone down because one of their crew was feeling down.

You must have been masking it well because Nami hadn't questioned your behavior, and she was the most empathetic one in the crew.

It became Sanji's routine to bring your meals to your room instead of urging you to join the crew. Their persistency had stopped working on you at some point and you just couldn't bring yourself to leave the room for a meal.

This day was no different. Sanji called your name through the closed door and you scrambled to hide the photograph in your hand.

"Dinner's ready, darling."

You cleared your throat, "Coming." You stood and opened the door for him.

He greeted you with a smile, with which you forced one back. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he looked at the dish in his hand.

He had begun explaining what tonight's meal consisted of, but you'd stopped listening before he even started talking.

He called your name again and you snapped out of your daze.

"Sorry," you chuckled anxiously, eyes darting away from his so he wouldn't see right through your disguise, "I'm a little tired. Thank you for the dinner, Sanji."

You took the plate from his hand and moved to close the door when he stopped it with his foot.

"Are you okay, love?" He had been first to ask. Your heart dropped actually hearing the question, tears stinging at your eyes and a lump growing in your throat.

"You've been acting odd lately."

You fought to keep the tears in, at least until you had successfully closed the door to keep Sanji out.

You didn't want to tell them. You didn't want to seem like the weak crew member. You certainly didn't want to worry anyone when there were bigger things to worry about.

"I'm fine, Sanji," you spewed out the lie in such a way that, unbeknownst to you, only rose Sanji's suspicions.

You had been in this crew together for months – by cooking for the crew, Sanji had memorized everyone's behavior. It seemed that your bunch was the happiest when it was time for meals, and for fights.

You were a free spirit and a social butterfly. Even while eating, you would make conversation with the crew. Now, you barely even joined them for meals. Everyone seemed to assume it was because of what you had gone through with the crew, in contrast with your silent and calm town, and how you may take some time to get used to the sudden change.

Sanji could tell you weren't fine, but he didn't have any reason to press on towards what you may or may not be going through. He knew doing so could only aggravate you.

"Alright, then. Enjoy your meal, love. You're free to join us any time," was something he always offered. Still, you would end up eating alone in your own room.

He began departing from your room, and you were free to close the door.

But you didn't, not until his figure was out of sight.

* * * * * *

The day was like any other. You remained in your room again, reading books if you weren't looking at the photographs of your family that you had taken along.

Tears were streaming down your face before you knew it.

You covered your face as you cried, sitting at the foot of your bed. Your back faced the door so you would have enough time to get yourself together if someone were to knock.

But you didn't seem to hear him.

You heard a plate being put down and you instinctively turned with a gasp, then turned back around to wipe your tears. He was kneeling in front of you in the blink of an eye.

"No, no. Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He held your wrists in a vise grip.

You shook your head profusely. "No, it's nothing. You don't need to worry about me."

"Hey." He grabbed your face to get you to look at him, even through your blurry vision. "I care about you. I'll always worry about you."

He held your hand and wiped at your dampened cheeks, settling next to you on the bed.

"What's wrong, lovely?"

You leaned into him and he opened his arms to wrap you in an embrace.

"I've just been miserable," you spoke against his dress shirt. You waited for him to talk, to react somehow, but it seems he was giving you the time to let it all out.

"It's not the crew, it's not you, it's just – " your face scrunched up and you burrowed as tears began welling up again.

"It's okay." He began rubbing your back.

"He-hey, I could go get Nami if you – " He began to stand up when you took him by the wrist.

"No, just…" you trailed off, shaking your head as you couldn't find words to spew.

He looked at you and sat back down, holding your hand that took a hold of his wrist. "Okay. Okay, just take your time."

"I don't know why I've been feeling so…gloomy." You shrugged. "Maybe it's because I'm a bit homesick."

"Do you want to go back?" He asked. "To your town?"

You took some time to answer.

"I do, but I don't." You furrowed your brows and shook your head again. "It's…complicated."

He remained silent. You still had yet to look at him again, so you couldn't tell what he was feeling at the moment.

"I want to go back home and stay, but I also want to stay with you guys," you elaborated, "Everything just seems so much more fun and thrilling when I'm with you guys."

You finally looked at him again. He held a sympathetic look while his hand remained on your back.

"Can I tell you something?" He asked once it was clear that you wouldn't speak again.

"I'll be damned before I let the geezer hear it, but there are some days I miss my old man," he confessed. "There are times when I think of what could've been if I stayed, despite how godforsaken that place is."

He shifted as he looked away towards the window of the room. "Then I remember – life would just be bland, wouldn't it?"

"I joined because I wanted something more with my life. So, maybe it would help you decide if you think about why you joined the crew and chose to leave in the first place," he concluded and looked at you again. The tears had stopped at this point, though you continued to sniffle.

"That…helps," you spoke as if surprised that it did. "Thank you, Sanji."

He flashed you a smile, which caused you to reciprocate it, genuinely. "It's no problem."

You remembered why he came in your room in the first place and turned to the plate put down atop your dresser. "Is that lunch?"

He hummed as he stood to get it. "Your favorite. I had a feeling you'd need it."

He gave you the plate, to which you silently thanked him for. "Whenever you're feeling sad for leaving home, leaving your parents, just think of how much your parents went through to get you where you are right now."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "You mean on a pirate ship with a wanted rubber captain?"

He laughed as well, placing a gentle hand on the side of your head to plant a kiss on your temple. "Yeah, exactly."

A comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as you looked down at the plate you settled down on your lap.

"You can talk to me, you know. To the crew," he spoke again, "You don't have to keep it all in."

"I just don't want anyone to worry about me."

"Darling, a crew stays together by worrying for each other – caring for each other." Sanji shrugged then chuckled. "Hell, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm all ears even through a fight."

You, too, laughed. Just imagining how that could go was entertaining to think about. "Thank you for listening."

He placed his hand on your shoulder, his arm around you. "Anytime."

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla sanji #taz skylar #taz skylar x reader

[cupids-chamber]

— HOW WOULD YOUR PARTNER REACT TO SEEING YOUR OLD TWEETS SIMPING FOR SOMEONE BACK IN YOUR WORLD ?

Gender neutral reader / Fluff / Slight crack but taken slightly seriously / some suggestive jokes (Octavinelle part) / Partially edited and re-read so mistakes may occur / Lazy writing / 0.9k words

A/N: Anon was lowkey simping in my inbox, but yk what.. this is a safeplace.. so y/n's tweets are gonna be me simping on main. Also very lazy forgive me I'm tired.

★ HOW DID YOUR LOVER/CRUSH FIND YOUR OLD TWITTER ACCOUNT? You will never quite know.. It took awhile.. But for some reason he was able to get ahold of your old phone and somehow, by some magic of sorts.. Surely the great 7 favored him, because not only was he able to get on your phone, but guess your password as well.. And even find his way onto your twitter account. 

— DEUCE SPADE ♠️ ; Your partner may have been quite dimwitted and dense in typical topics, but Deuce had a knack for mechanics and it was quite sweet of him to offer so kindly to help fix your old phone up, since you didn’t like the quality or durability of the one Crowley had given you; so of course you agreed; that and Deuce’s face was adorable. You were also quite curious if you could download apps from Twisted wonderland on a phone from your previous dimension, and you were even more curious as to if you could contact and use things you had already downloaded on the phone using wifi from here? Maybe you could contact people from over there.. 

Deuce worked hard to fix your phone, and of course he had to check it before giving it back to you! He couldn’t hand you an unfinished project, then you’d find the poor blue-bird incompetent! Turning on your screen it loaded and displayed your twitter account in full view for him, ‘Is this app similar to magicam?’ Deuce thought to himself, he couldn’t help but mindlessly scroll through the app and your various posts.. He was left quite conflicted.

Deuce actually didn’t think much of it, partially because he trusted you quite a large sum and because he was also rather dense and couldn’t quite understand what exactly you meant with those posts. The only reason he even started to see doubts was when both Ace and Cater pointed out your behavior on the posts. 

Sure Trey and Riddle tried providing somewhat comfort, well the best they could; towards their poor first year. Deuce didn’t favor jealousy, his mother always taught him how dangerous a feeling as dark as jealousy can be. His mother also taught him to communicate his feelings, so that’s what he did. 

Deuce chose to communicate with you, it took him some time. But Deuce is beyond aware of how dense he can truly be.. And he loved that you were ok with that.. Deuce expressed his discomfort, and though it was hard to process, he understands your posts were mainly a humorous joke, and that you’d never truly feel attracted to.. that..(He also gets so much more clingy, he doesn’t realize this thought)

— AZUL ASHENGROTTO, JADE LEECH, & FLOYD LEECH ♡ ; Azul was truly a favored witch, blessed by the great 7. No.. you’d say the Octavinelle trio was blessed by some unimaginable fortune. As Floyd played around teasing you, and chasing you around.. Jade handed Azul your phone.. You didn’t quite realize when the tall eel had taken your phone out of your pocket and handed it to his brother. 

And now it was in the hand of the great sea witch himself. “Oh— what’s this?'', Azul opened up the little bird icon on your phone, thinking it wouldn’t be anything as surprising.. Nothing he hasn’t already found out and collected as blackmail when he inevitably asks you out and just.. In case you were to.. Let’s just say by some unpredictable future, reject him. Of course he’d deal with the tweels nagging about that later. 

Floyd stops in his tracks, as he closes in on viewing your phone screen with the pair.. The trio then move onto your profile.. “Wait.. isn’t that— MY PHONE!”, before you could fight to grab it back, Azul reads your first three tweets out loud.. For everyone in the office room to hear. 

Let’s just say no one predicted that.. And you remained frozen in your spot.. What could be more embarrassing than your crush’s literally going through your private tweets about some.. Questionable things. 

The three of you stood there in utter silence, well Azul had lots more to add onto that blackmail folder. It took a while before Floyd finally chose to break the ice between you three.

“Hey shrimpy— do you have a voice kink by any chance?” 

“FLOYD!”

— MALLEUS DRACONIA ♛ ; Malleus has been a well composed person, he does get confused.. But that's because he’s unreasonably dense. It’s quite surprising, his obliviousness in some cases makes him so unintentionally funny and you quite literally hate how people would rather be afraid of him then get to know how ridiculously hilarious he could be.

That’s not to say he lacks in any field, he’s quite smart and though it takes him a while to process certain modern lexicon it’s still a fun experience. And it’s funny seeing him try and implement certain phrases into his day to day life; one time he said slay while Silver was training, and Silver lost his balance while Sebek had a breakthrough about how you ruined his wakasama and turned him into Lilia. 

Now despite these improvements, you really should have told your little crush about the aspect of typical privacy.. And phones. Because you found him scrolling through your twitter account, looking star-struck and frozen as your phone reflected a certain tweet you had made previously.. Oh how you’d explain this one to the green haired gremlin.

Gets more clingy, and possessive. Also he unintentionally says some of the most threatening yet attractive things. (Border-lining: “Are you trying to kill me or is this your way of flirting”)

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

#deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #deuce #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul #azul ashengrotto #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd #jade leech x reader #jade #jade leech #jade x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #fanfic #x reader #twst fluff #twst headcanons #twst scenarios

[thebearchives]

ma moitié | CL16

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

SYNOPSIS: no time better to confess than after a near-death experience, am i right?

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst?, descriptions of a car crash, literally every dialogue is french so LOTS of translations (looking back now, i could have just been like “italics = french” but it’s too late), probably really inaccurate descriptions of a race bc idk logistics of races oops

as always, don’t be a ghost reader!

“je me sens vraiment bien pour aujourd'hui, c'est mauvais?” i feel really good about today, is that bad?

your eyes dragged up from the egg you had just cracked into the hot pan and onto your phone, poorly propped up against a loaf of bread. said phone’s screen displayed the view up charles’ nose, his eyelashes peeking over the apples of his cheek. no doubt, he had been holding up his phone mic against his lips, making sure you could hear him over the bustling of the garage.

a giggle caused him to bring the phone back down, full face now in frame. his eyes were furrowed as he questioned, “tu te moques de moi? c'est mauvais, je le savais.” you're laughing at me? it's bad, i knew it.

you cut him off before he could get inside his head and stress himself out, “non, non, char, ce n'est pas mal du tout. vos résultats ont été bons tout le week-end, bien meilleurs que lors de vos dernières courses.” it's not bad at all. your results have been good all weekend, much better than any of your last races.

you turned the heat down of your egg, “il n'est pas faux de penser qu'aujourd'hui sera bon aussi.” it's not wrong to think today will be good too.

“alors pourquoi avez-vous ri?” then why did you laugh?

the pout on his face was adorable. adorable and absolutely horrible for your heart, which ached lightly. you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, arms around his neck and lips on his, kissing that pout away.

“allô?” charles’ voice brought you out of your thoughts, he scoffed playfully, “regarde-toi tu essaies de trouver une excuse.” hello?...look at you trying to come up with an excuse.

you reluctantly pulled your eyes away from his lips. at least there was one good thing about him travelling a lot for his job; whenever he called you, you could stare at his lips for as long as you wanted and he’d never know. 

“je n'ai pas besoin d'excuse, mais si tu veux savoir, ta voix s'est coupée et je n'ai pas tout compris.” i don't need an excuse, but if you must know, your voice cut out and I didn't catch everything.

you lied. of course, you would. why wouldn’t you? it’s not like you could tell him ‘hey, yeah, sorry i was staring at your lips because i want to kiss them.’ years of hiding it straight down the drain, along with his friendship too.

“mon dieu, encore ça? je viens littéralement de mettre à jour le plan que nous avons,” charles sighed, “peut-être que vous avez juste besoin d'un nouveau téléphone.” my god, that again? i literally just upgraded our plan…maybe you just need a new phone.

you waved him off, flipping your egg over. oops, slightly burnt. 

“ouais, ouais, le meilleur fournisseur de wifi de tout monaco, ça ne pourrait jamais être leur faute. pourquoi es-tu si catégorique sur le fait que c'est mon téléphone?” yeah, yeah, best wifi provider in all of monaco, could never be their fault. why are you so adamant it's my phone?

“parce qu'il l'est! il fonctionne parfaitement sur tous les appareils de la maison, sauf le téléphone.” because it is! it runs perfectly on every device in our house except your phone. 

charles brought the phone closer to his lips again, this time, however, it was angled sideways so you could see just outside his open driver room. he spoke again, “je vais payer même pour ton nouveau téléphone si tu le veux.” i'll even pay for your new phone if you want it.

“peu importe,” you rolled your eyes, “ne devrais-tu pas être littéralement dans ta voiture en ce moment?” whatever…shouldn’t you literally be in your car right now?

before charles could reply to you, his name was called out from somewhere outside the frame. his eyes met yours through the screen, a look of understanding shared between the two of you.

he had to go.

“tu peux le faire, char,” you smiled at him, “prends ce sentiment et fais-en une réalité.” you’ve got this, char. take that feeling and make it a reality.

“je t’aime, ma moitié.” i love you, my other half.

and then he was gone, taking your heart along with him.

moitié. you hated it when he called you those pet names. in all your years of knowing charles, rarely ever did he use your name. it was always ma moitié, mon ange, petite chou, anything and everything but your name. 

you hated the way it made you feel like you were more than just a friend to him. you hated the way it made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he returned your feelings too. you hated the butterflies, the clammy hands, the way your brain would just stop. you hated how easily you were like putty in his hands.

after charles had ended the call, you rushed to plate your egg before it burned to a crisp. with your coffee in one hand and plate in the other, you made yourself comfy on the couch, legs snug under a throw blanket, unmuting the tv which was already streaming the grand prix.

as you chewed on your breakfast, you couldn’t help but think back to charles’ words. he had every right to feel good about this race. this weekend had gone beautifully, with charles topping the times in every round of the qualifying. he was sitting in pole position, with carlos lined up right behind him in p3. you could only hope that the strategists at ferrari would help him succeed.

your lips involuntarily curled into a smile the second you saw charles’ car on the screen. that smile widened when his voice entered your ears, god, the way he spoke english was so perfect.

you wished you could have been there, in the garage wearing those red headphones. but sadly, you had taken too many sick days already and were saving your vacation days for the actual summer break and any grand prix that was especially significant to charles.

you watched the lights turn on one by one with great amazement. you had never known how it felt to be behind the wheel at that specific moment, not personally really. anytime you asked, charles would describe it as exhilarating, nerves just simply disappearing along with the lights. he’d also go on to say “you’d know if you karted with me instead of making me cry.”

and he was right. the two of you met way back when charles had only just started karting, at a karting race that your dad had been working as a commentator for. your mom, ever the outgoing person, quickly made friends with charles’ mom, and unlike charles on the circuit, you found yourself sitting next to a very small arthur, too young to kart alongside his brother.

when the race had finished, you and arthur were sat across from one another, a pile of ripped-up grass and flower petals between the two of you. the youngest leclerc’s toy car sat at the bottom of the pile, and at the sound of your mother saying ‘go’, the two of you dove your hands into the pile, fingernails scratching against the other’s hands, just to be the first to reach the car and pull it out. 

when you felt like you had finally grasped the small car, you pulled it towards yourself, unknowingly pulling the young boy along with you. as arthur lurched forward, the car slipped out of both of your hands and flew straight into charles’ head, helmet having just been taken off. 

safe to say, you had made charles cry the very first time you met him, which he never failed to bring up. 

you couldn’t help but wonder, eyes following charles’ red car along the track, if you’d be where you were in life had you not made him cry. or if 8-year-old pierre gasly hadn’t seen his friend get hit in the face with a toy car or tease him for crying like a little baby in his mother’s arms, every single time he saw you at a karting event. 

would you two be friends? would you even be living in this place, sharing a flat with charles leclerc, if it hasn’t been for that stupid ferrari toy car? 

the very toy car that arthur had gifted you and charles as a housewarming present, which now sat on the tv trolley, between two framed pictures of you two. one at your eighth birthday, months after you two had met, and one from when you were both 19, celebrating charles’ formula 2 championship title. 

the broadcast shifted to the camera in charles’ car, and you listened as he gave the team his update on his tires, and listened to them give him information in return. things were looking up for him, well-deserved after the last few shitty races.

it wasn’t until halfway into the race, right when charles had pitted for a new pair of tires, that things started to go downhill. although called in for the pit stop by the team, the mechanics had seemed unprepared for charles to pit, which caused charles to have to wait for an extra 10 seconds before exiting the pits. the lead he had built for himself slowly crumbling away, neck in neck with max’s car.

your hands gripped your empty coffee mug tightly, unmoving. you had taken your last sip just seconds before charles’ pitstop but had been too focused on the shitshow in front of you to place it down. 

you flinched as charles’ angry voice came through the radio, “he’s going to get ahead of me.”

you watched as his words became reality, joining the racing line milliseconds behind the redbull car. charles tried to maneuver his car around the sides to get ahead along the straight, but max had always been good at defending, charles had told you before that it was something he had both respected and hated about the dutch driver. 

the two cars drove nearly tire to tire as they drove through the chicane. your heart felt like it was in your throat, praying that the two cars didn’t touch. 

you felt like someone had thrown you into an ice bath when you heard charles’ radio again, his voice was filled with anger and frustration, “something isn’t right.”

his race engineer’s voice followed shortly, “everything looks good, charles. what is wrong?”

“i don’t know, the steering is acting weird. it’s getting hard to keep it under control,” you couldn’t tear your eyes from the red car, “there’s too much oversteer. more than normal.”

fuck.

charles’ car fell behind max’s slightly going into the next turn. it was clear now that charles had pointed it out, the back of his car coming out far too much for it to be normal. 

“okay, charles, we will look into that and tell you what to do. keep your head down and elbows out. the pace is looking good right now, you should be able to retake your place soon.”

what was mere seconds had felt like hours of charles trailing closely behind max’s car. it was the last turn of the lap when it happened.

charles had taken to the outer side of max’s car, still struggling to correct the oversteer, when max’s wheels locked up going into the turn. it had happened so fast. one moment, charles’ car had pulled up slightly ahead of max’s. the next, his car was spinning out, speeding straight towards the wall. 

your eyes stung with tears, the mug in your hand slipping and rolling off the blanket, shattering into tiny pieces on the ground. you barely registered the sound, barely being able to hear anything over the sound of your heart racing.

your breath hitched in your throat as they replayed the crash from charles’ perspective. the deafening silence after charles’ engineer asked if he was okay made you want to throw up.

get up, charles, please, the tears felt salty in your mouth. please, please, please.

you bunched up the blanket in your hands, watching as the screen zoomed in on the car. the halo looked to still be intact, but you could barely see charles from behind the cloud of smoke.

dread clouded over you, your mind both rushing with thoughts, yet silent all at the same time. where were the fucking medics? why was no one helping him out?

after what felt like years, you saw charles helmet emerge from within the cloud of smoke. his red racesuit next. your heart continued to race, calming slightly knowing that he was conscious. 

the medics reached charles’ car just as he had began moving, hands rushing to pull him up and out of his seat carefully. you watched with a bated breath as they supported him away from the red mess of a car. 

but charles was stubborn, you knew this, and so you watched as he pushed away from the medics slightly, trying to walk on his own. they had backed off a bit, trailing alongside him just in case his body decided to give out on him. 

and it did. on his fifth independent step, his knees buckled, the medics catching him before he hit the ground. the way charles’ head titled forward was a clear sign that he had lost consciousness.

you felt numb, watching them take him into the back of the medical car. the camera switched as soon as the car drove off, showing the reactions of the rest of the grid drivers, before panning onto the damaged redbull car, which had also been taken out of the race in the collision, albeit much less destroyed than the ferrari. not far from it, you could see max also being taken care of by another set of medics.

you felt sick. 

you don’t know how long you sat there, wet eyes staring blankly into the tv, seeing but not registering. it wasn’t until a notification sounded loudly in the kitchen, recognizing the tone as the one you had reserved for members of the leclerc family, that you snapped out of it. 

you rushed off of the couch, forgetting about the broken ceramic on the floor as you raced to the kitchen. it was a text from lorenzo.

ils l'emmènent à l'hôpital. they’re taking him to the hospital.

the hospital. charles was going to the hospital. 

you felt all of your emotions hit you at once, the weight of it all causing you to physically hunch over the counter.

a sharp pain shot up your leg and you gasped, eyes flitting down to notice the trail of blood that you had left in your haste to reach your phone. you had been numb when it happened, but as your foot screamed out in pain, you realized you had stepped in a glass shard.

you momentarily ignored the rush of pain and nausea that was climbing up your body, hastily sending lorenzo a reply.

est-ce mauvais? is it bad?

todt a dit qu'il a repris connaissance dans la voiture, mais ils veulent encore l'emmener pour s'assurer que tout va bien. todt said he gained consciousness in the car, but they still want to take him to make sure nothing is wrong.

you felt like you could breathe again, charles was awake. 

tenez-moi au courant s'il vous plaît. please keep me updated. 

il va s'en sortir, ma petite. he's going to be okay, kiddo.

although he knew he couldn’t quell how you were feeling, lorenzo still tried his best. and his best was good enough for you to finally stop hyperventilating. charles would be okay. he had to be.

you rested your head against your arms, taking a deep breath to reset your brain. after a couple seconds, you raised your head, turning around to look at the small trail of red that you had dragged along with you. 

your foot was still bleeding, and you decided to wrap it up before you cleaned the floor. it’d do you no good to just sit here and waste away, waiting for an update from lorenzo, or a call from charles himself. 

you winced as you took a step, hand gripping the counter tightly for some support. with the lack of adrenaline coursing through your body, you were able to really feel how badly you had cut your foot. 

you grabbed a towel paper and placed it against the heel of your foot, half-hopping to charles’ bathroom, where you knew he kept his first-aid kit. you had one too, but yours had consisted of only bandaids and alcohol wipes. charles had splurged on the good stuff, saying something along the lines of “all the athletes carry one.”

you weren’t sure if he was right as you had only had the pleasure of meeting fellow racecar drivers, arthur leclerc and pierre gasly, both of which had received the same kit from charles as an “it was on sale so i bought it for you” gift.

by the time you had finished cleaning out your wound and wrapping it, you felt exhausted and mentally drained. your earlier panic had left you feeling extremely cold, and you couldn’t help but catch sight of the hoodie thrown over charles’ desk chair. the same one he had been wearing the night before he left.

you pulled yourself up from the ground, throwing away the bloodied alcohol wipes and gauze packaging before hobbling over to the chair and picking up the hoodie.

you willed yourself to not tear up as you brought the hoodie up towards your nose. it still smelled like him. you couldn’t help but wish that charles was in the hoodie still, wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing until you would cough and slap his back. it was his favourite thing to do, up there with blowing air in your ear while you were cooking and poking your skin whenever it peeked out from under your shirt. 

“c'est une vengeance pour les dommages émotionnels que tu as causés quand on avait six ans." he had said once, after you yanked his ear in retaliation and demanded why he was so insistent on annoying you. it’s payback for the emotional damage you caused when we were six.

god, when you’d see him again, you were going to get your own payback for the emotional damage he caused today. 

you slipped the hoodie on, the warmth of it instantly blocking out the cold you felt. you made your way back to the kitchen, wetting a towel paper and wiping at the trail of blood from the kitchen to the living room. 

thank god for tiled flooring, huh? but also, fuck tile flooring because if there was a carpet in your living room, maybe your cup would have never shattered in the first place.

when you entered the living room, you found yourself faltering, eyes catching sight of the tv that was still on, now showing the repeat of charles’ crash. you looked away when the car slammed into the wall, opting to turn the tv off altogether and began picking up the pieces of what had been your favourite mug. 

back in the kitchen, you stared at your phone, willing it to ring with a message or a text from charles, or anyone from his family really.

after realizing how much of an idiot you were being, you grabbed the phone yourself and started to draft a message to charles, explaining how you worried you had been and how you hoped he was okay.

one message quickly turned into several as you poured your worries out to him over text. you went from freaking out, to scolding him, to finally settling on how you couldn’t wait to see him and that you weren’t going to let him out of your sight the entire time he would be at home.

just as you had finally put the phone down, it rang. you rushed to pick it up, “hello?”

“ah, y/n? bonjour, ma petite fleur.” my little flower. pascale’s voice was so soft, like she knew exactly how you were feeling. she probably did. 

the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress all came flooding out at the sound of charles’ mother. 

you sniffled, “maman,”

at the sound of your voice, pascale felt her heart clench. over the last (nearly) two decades, you had become like the daughter that she had never had, and with pascale being able to see through both you and her son, she knew one day, you would become her daughter for real. she had been the one to convince you to call her ‘maman’, calling you her ‘belle fille’.

“oh, ma belle fille. tout va bien, ange.” oh, my beautiful girl. everything is okay, angel.

“comment le savez-vous?” you rubbed your eye, “vous lui avez parlé?” how do you know? have you talked to him?

“la mère sait toujours ce qui est le mieux, non?” she chuckled lightly, though you could tell she was also choked up, “son manager a dit qu'il va bien, qu'il se repose pour le moment.” mother knows best, no?...his manager said that he is fine, that he is resting for the moment.

you hummed, too choked up to say anything.

pascale cooed out your name, “mon ange, pourquoi tu ne viens pas?” why don’t you come over?

you shook your head before remembering she couldn't see you, “non, c'est bon. ça ira. je suis sûr que vous êtes plus secoué par ce qui s'est passé. je ne veux pas me mettre en travers.” no, it’s okay. i’ll be fine. i'm sure you're more shaken up by what happened. i don't want to get in the way.

pascale tsked, “petite idiote, tu ne pourrais jamais te mettre en travers du chemin. tu es de la famille, je sais que tu souffres aussi.” silly girl, you could never get in the way. you are family, i know you're hurting too.

you couldn’t help but laugh pitifully at the way she called you an idiot, “j'ai été vraiment stupide, non? j'avais tellement peur que charles parte et je ne lui aurais jamais dit ce que je ressentais.” i've been really stupid, no? i was so scared that charles would leave and i would have never told him how i felt.

pascale had been the only one to know how you truly felt about charles, having caught you crying one christmas night when charles had brought his girlfriend to join the family dinner. she had comforted you all night, and spent the whole dinner staring charles’ new girlfriend down, though you–and charles–had no idea.

“il aurait été tout aussi stupide,” pascale hummed, “je ne peux qu'espérer que ce jour l'amène à admettre ses sentiments également.” he would be stupid too…i can only hope that today causes him to admit his feelings as well.

“je te le répète, il ne ressent pas la même chose.” i keep telling you, he doesn’t feel the same.

“ouais, ouais, et je continue à te dire qu'il l'est. Je connais mon garçon, et il est amoureux de toi. Il ne s'en rend juste pas compte.” and i keep telling you, he does. i know my boy, and he's in love with you. just doesn't realize it.

the two of you chatted for a bit more, with pascale giving you live updates every so often. lorenzo and arthur both joined the conversation, commanding you take care of yourself or else they would come and bring you home.

the conversation had only just died down when pascale gasped, “oh, mon dieu! c’est charles! y/n, je vous téléphonerai après, d'accord?” it’s charles, i’ll call you after, okay?

your breath hitched in your throat, “bien sûr.” of course.

it felt like forever, waiting for her to call back, or for charles to reach out to you on his own. yet nothing happened. 

sometime later, your phone buzzed with a text from lorenzo.

il va bien. Il rentre pour finir son travail avec les médias, mais il prend l'avion ce soir. he's okay. he's going back to finish his media duties, but he'll fly back tonight.

c'est un soulagement. that’s a relief.

viens. je vais chercher charles et le ramener à la maison. il voudra te voir. come over. i'll be picking up charles and bringing him home. he will want to see you.

non, c'est bon. je le verrai quand il reviendra à l'appartement. no, it's fine. i'll see him when he comes back to the apartment.

y penser? think about it?

you left him on read. as much as you wanted to see him, you weren’t sure you wanted to in front of his entire family as well. who knew how you would react?

not long after, you found yourself in front of the tv again, much like you had been earlier in the morning, only this time charles was no longer in a smoking car, but rather in front of a bunch of mics and cameras.

you watched as he answered questions about the car, the oversteer, and how he had felt in the moment. your heart ached as you stared at his face, he looked so tired. he’d grimace every time he moved, so lightly that no one would notice. but you did, you’d learned to identify any subtle expression changes early on in your friendship with charles. he was a stubborn man, but you were nothing if not just as stubborn. 

you didn’t know when you fell asleep, eyes getting heavier and heavier as you watched charles answer the same questions again and again. you also didn’t know how long you slept for, the stress and tension of the day had left you exhausted. 

you barely stirred when the lock of your house opened, or when the keys chimed loudly as charles placed them in the key bowl near the door. when he was picked up by lorenzo, he had told him to take him to your shared apartment immediately. lorenzo, who knew what was coming, didn’t question a thing, just gave his brother a smile and a quick “it’s about time” before driving. 

the driver turned around, leaving his luggage near the entrance. the sound of the tv was quiet, but charles could hear it. his eyebrows furrowed, it was late. were you waiting for him to come home? he walked towards the living room, stopping when he caught sight of you on the couch, asleep.

he quietly walked forward, hand blindly grabbing at the tv remote and turning it off. his eyes followed down your figure, lingering on the hoodie you had been wearing before moving down to the bright white gauze you had wrapped around your foot earlier.

he kneeled down next to you, hand lightly grazing the rough wrapping, “oh, mon dieu, ce qui vous est arrivé, ange?” oh, my god, what happened to you, angel?

at the sound of his voice, you stirred. charles cursed himself for being loud, although his words had been whispered so quietly. charles retracted his hand, shushing you lightly as you groaned.

“rendors-toi, amour.” he lightly pressed a hand against your fluttering eyes, blocking out the light from above. go back to sleep, love.

“charles?” you pushed your head up, cheek nuzzling into his palm, “c'est toi? tu es vraiment là?” is that you? are you really here?

charles could feel his heart break inside his chest. how many times had you woken up tonight, expecting to see him but then be wrong? how many times had you dreamt of him coming back home?

charles rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “oui, c’est moi. je suis là.” yes, it’s me. i’m here.

you blinked twice, vision clearing enough to see the man you had been waiting for, sitting right in front of you. your eyes instantly pooled with tears, “charles?”

he rushed to soothe you, “ne pleure pas, mon amour. je suis là, je vais bien.” don't cry, my love. i'm right here, i'm okay. 

you reached up and grabbed the hand that had been resting on your cheek, “tu ne comprends pas. j'ai eu si peur pour toi.” you don't understand. i was so scared for you.

you sat up and charles moved to grab your other hand in his as well.

he squeezed them softly, “je suis désolé, mon ange, tellement, tellement désolé. je ne voulais pas te faire peur aujourd'hui.” i’m so sorry, my angel, so, so, sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you today.

you lurched forward, hands escaping his and instead wrapping around his neck. charles’ own hands found themselves in new places as well, one wrapped around your back while the other flew behind him to keep the two of you from toppling over.

his heart tightened, feeling his neck get wet with your tears as you sniffled loudly. his other hand found itself wrapping around you as well, pulling you closer to his body. 

charles moved the two of you into a more comfortable position, stretching his legs out so that you were essentially sitting in his lap, straddling him, “je suis désolé, y/n,” he apologized again.

at the sound of your name slipping through his lips, you couldn’t help the sobs that escaped your own. charles’ grip around you tightened, “hey, what’s wrong? qu'est-ce qu'il y a?” what’s the matter?

you shook your head, “tu es si méchante, charles. je n'ai même pas pu te dire que je t'aimais quand tu as raccroché ce matin.” you are so mean, charles. i didn't even get to tell you i loved you when you hung up this morning.

he lightly coerced you to pull your head back, “oh, mon coeur, je suis désolé.” he felt like a broken record, apologizing again and again, but in the moment, nothing was coming to his head.

you leaned back, puffy eyes connecting with his own, which were tinged red, a sign that he had been crying as well, “ce n'est pas ta faute. c'est la mienne. je ne t'ai jamais dit ce que je ressentais, et je m'en voulais tellement de ne pas l'avoir admis plus tôt. quand tu n'es pas sorti de la voiture tout de suite, j'ai eu tellement peur de t'avoir perdu. perdu avant d'avoir pu te dire que je t'aimais.” it's not your fault. it's my fault. i never told you how i felt, and i was so angry at myself for not admitting it sooner. when you didn't get out of the car right away, i was so afraid that i had lost you. lost before i could tell you that i loved you.

charles’ tears spilled out of his eyes, “c'est ma faute aussi.” his words were the same as pascale’s, “j'ai toujours eu trop peur de te dire ce que je ressentais parce que j'étais trop égoïste. je ne voulais pas te perdre, alors je ne t'ai jamais dit ce que je ressentais.” it's my fault, too. i was always too scared to tell you how i felt because i was too selfish. i didn't want to lose you, so i never told you how i felt.

“tu m'aimes?” your voice was so soft, as if scared to be wrong. you love me?

charles placed his forehead against yours, “tellement. je t'adore plus que tout ce que j'ai jamais aimé.” so much. i adore you more than anything i've ever loved.

the tears slipped out as you relished in his revelation, “je t'aime. mon dieu, je t'ai aimé aussi longtemps que je me souvienne.” i love you. my god, i've loved you for as long as i can remember.

charles leaned up, kissing your tears away, “je te promets qu'à partir d'aujourd'hui, tu ne pleureras plus jamais à cause de moi.” i promise, from today forward, you will never cry because of me ever again.

your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips against your skin. he couldn’t help it, placing soft kisses against your eyelids. 

his hands followed down your spine, resting at the base of your waist, “on va te mettre au lit, mon ange.” let's get you to bed, angel.

“je peux m'allonger avec toi?” can i lay with you?

“toujours, à partir de maintenant et pour toujours.” charles smiled lightly, “je suis tout à toi, ma moitié.” always, from now on and forever…i am all yours, my other half.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 #ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ writes #pierre gasly #fluff #charles leclerc #charles #leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #angst #1k #2k