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#if I can’t have love I want power album
playsthetics · 2 years
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Mini boards for Halsey’s If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power
Song: The Lighthouse
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clairedelune-13 · 10 days
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Obsessed with the exclusive artwork for this album. ❤️
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GODMODE album has been out for 33 slutty slutty minutes as of writing this and it is already shaping up to become one of my favourites. I haven’t even gotten to the ice nine kills collaboration track yet (once I do it will all be over I will be dead and dead and dying my two favourite bands on one song is too much)
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taylorgabs · 2 years
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“did i like it? and they had a different color? consider it grabbed!”
i think it’s safe to say that i will buy almost every variant that halsey releases for their album “if i can’t have love, i want power!” but, it is one of my favorite albums EVER, so how could i resist?
pictured above are the beautiful tour variants of the album! they come with beautiful alternate artwork and in two different colors: purple and green! this cover is actually my favorite that she has released for the album!
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petals-armor · 29 days
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boybasher · 8 months
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sanarkeo · 2 months
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they can’t love you like i love you
nayeon wants to show her girl off to the world.
alternatively: look at you getting fucked by someone you barely know on your first date!! nayeon x reader smut - exhibitionism - humiliation - dom!nayeon w sub!reader - idol!nayeon w idol!reader - power dynamics? unnie kink sorry lol... 4+k words long for some reason
-
it all started at music bank a week into your group’s promotions for the new title track, when your manager entered the waiting room and yelled out that she had a surprise for all of you. you looked up from your phone just as the hairstylist had fixed your bangs and shot an intrigued look over to your closest friend in the group. she raised her eyebrows at you and mouthed: “twice?”
you knew then that it was all over for you.
even being at the music program today, occupying the same building as them brought you a rush you’d only felt going up on a stage and seeing a thousand fans gush over you. you were finally going to be able to meet them, actually meet them. not smile and wave from afar. you could finally talk about how much they’d inspired you, even take a picture with them. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart wasn’t in full on palpitation mode thinking about finally seeing your favorite girl face to face like this.
you’d even set her as your lockscreen for god’s sake. but maybe then the rumors were true and her face does bring good luck or whatever. embarrassed just wondering what’d happen if she ever saw it, you shoved it into the shallow pocket of the tightest mini skirt the stylists could’ve fit you into and left the room with your members.
the meeting with twice was brief and took place in the most random of kbs corridors. most of what you’d remembered of it was tripping over your words, bowing a bit too much and too fervently, and staring at how gorgeous they looked in person. seeing them in concert was nothing like this.
“congratulations on your new song!” sana shrieked, pulling your leader into a hug and beaming at the rest of you. “ah, i love seeing juniors with so much passion!”
they took turns wishing your group the best and exchanging some encouraging words. you were avoiding eye contact with one of the girls in fear you’d combust, but felt her gaze lay heavily on you. The way im nayeon stared you down stirred something in your stomach and made your fingertips tremble against the copies of signed albums.
Unlike jihyo or dahyun, she barely said a word beyond the niceties. Which was odd, because nayeon was nayeon. Her expression was fixed and ambiguous, and you swore at yourself for giving into looking her up and down. She was wearing that outfit from the concept photos. the one with that fucking jacket and the tube top and that skirt. nayeon had her gloved hands on her hips and you had to tear your eyes away, afraid of letting your stare wander too much.
when your manager signalled for the group to get to rehearsals, you hurried to bow once more with your members and hastily presented the signed albums to twice. when you gave a copy to nayeon, she accepted it with both hands and a closed smile.
“thank you, y/n-ah~”
you turned on your heels and ran back to the waiting room to get ready. your members teased you for how pink your face had turned even with all your makeup on.
-
when filming was done, your body felt the pressure of the late nights and intense practices come crashing through. you were just glad you’d be able to get a full night’s sleep. stepping into the waiting room ready to change back into your clothes, the sight of your manager glowering at you made you wince.
“how many times do you have to lose your phone? you know, twice’s manager had to come all the way here to hand it to me.”
she sighed and handed you your phone, now with long, deep cracks sustained from a corner - it must’ve fallen out of your pocket while you were running.
you and half your members got into a van to get back to the dorms. as soon as you settled into your seat and got comfortable though, they started to take sneaky glances at each other and giggled.
“i used to think you liked nayeon-sunbaenim too much but i think she actually likes you back,” one of them teased.
“oh my god, did you see how she was looking at you?”
“or maybe she hates you somehow? either way, even i began blushing…”
“-please, please, please guys i think she was just like ill or something.” you were tired, sure, but the annoyance also had something to do with wanting to never think about the stray possibility of her liking you at all. you turned on your phone to send a text to a friend when you saw it. just as you were going to attach some pictures, you were greeted with a flood of selfies of nayeon.
you first raised an eyebrow at your members who were also busy on their phones, as if they played some lame prank on you. but you soon realised that you’d never seen those nayeon selfies before (you were surprisingly on top of twice content for someone who clocked an average of 4 hours of sleep), and that those selfies looked really fucking recent. taken today, recent.
there she was, standing in front of a bathroom mirror, your phone looking small in her hand, a thumb slipped under the waistband, pulling it ever so slightly down. as soon as you saw it, you dropped your phone onto your lap and took a deep breath. nayeon found your phone, nayeon took your phone, nayeon saw your lockscreen and nayeon used your phone to take insanely hot mirror selfies in the kbs bathroom.
all the other images you flicked through were just slight variations of the first, till you landed on a short video. playing it, you saw nayeon moving your phone back and forth from the mirror as she cycled through an array of poses, mouthing… something?
one of your favorite things about im nayeon was how she could sing like an absolute angel, light and airy, while having this depth and hoarseness in her speech. you pressed the speaker against your ear and upped the volume ever so slightly. the sound of her voice, nearly whispering, soft and sultry, forced a sigh out of you. you’d thought she was just spewing random numbers, which you would’ve accepted anyway, but then it hit you.
it was her number.
-
you [9:01 pm]
hello?
nayeon [9:05 pm]
what took you so long?
-
before your first date, all she’d given you was a date, a time, and an instruction: wait for me outside your building. the surprise in it made your breath hitch as you stepped out the front door to your dorm. the fact that you kept it a secret from your members and managers gave it the mildest sense of danger you craved after years of obedience. when you got down to the entrance, you saw nayeon leaned against her coupe in an off the shoulder midi and heels.
“you got down here a lil early… you this eager for our date?”
in an instant, your cheeks flushed red. first, because in the 3 weeks you’d been texting each other, you must’ve forgotten how beautiful she looked in person. then, because you looked down at yourself and realized how underdressed you were. nayeon clocked this, and you didn’t notice how she tried her best to resist smirking.
“sorry, umm… i didn’t know we were going somewhere fancy…”
it didn’t click that maybe she’d left that bit out intentionally.
“don’t worry babe, a pretty face like yours doesn’t need a flashy dress to make an impression.”
she opened the door for you then got into the driver’s seat. all the way to the restaurant, you held in the urge to ask her to keep her eyes on the road. it was surreal. being in im nayeon’s car and her driving you to your first date at a restaurant you could hardly afford on your rookie checks. her looking into your eyes, staring at your body like she’d eat you whole.
you’d admit you felt uncomfortably warm as she cursed out other drivers. you’d admit you leaked through your underwear when she gripped your bare thigh with her left hand and drew lines with her thumb. you felt her grip loosen and her fingers trace your thigh higher and higher until she pulled it back to hold the wheel.
“ahh! we’re just around the corner. i hope you like french food?”
-
you had a curfew, you had dozens of unanswered texts and yet you were tipsy in im nayeon’s apartment. putting down your glass of wine on her coffee table, you looked over at her floor-to-ceiling windows - a view of the han river at midnight framed perfectly - and shook your head at your stupidity.
your leader might kill you. your company could set your contract on fire.
then, you turned and saw nayeon there, bathed in yellow light, head propped against her hand, biting her bottom lip.
“thank you for tonight,” she said and set her glass down to take your hand and stroke the back of it gently with her thumb.
your leader was going to kill you. your contract was up in flames. whatever.
throughout dinner, all that initial embarrassment of feeling out of place in a dimly lit restaurant full of finely plated dishes and women decked out in jewelry, died down and was replaced by a heat that grew up your neck and between your legs. nayeon made you feel like you were the only girl in the room. like you were worthy of everything. like you were beautiful and good. you tried to play it cool but when she got the bill and asked you if you wanted to come over to her place, you’d never felt more easy in your life.
so there you were, the wine’s acidity coating your tongue, your throat dry, just craving her lips that were parted slightly, right in front of you.
“why did you give me your number?” you asked.
“because.”
nayeon licked her lips and you wondered how desperate you looked at that moment.
“and… and why did you take all those pictures?”
as brazen as nayeon was, you still caught her sheepish smile when it appeared for the briefest moment.
“i knew i had to have you from the moment i laid eyes on you.”
you didn’t know then how long she’d actually kept tabs on you for. she scooted closer and intertwined her fingers in yours, never once breaking eye contact. the smell of bergamot and citrus was intoxicating.
“and it worked didn’t it, babe?”
you hummed in agreement and tore your gaze away from her. but your sight landed on her cleavage and you turned dumb. at once, nayeon lifted up your chin and chuckled, just knowing how much you wanted her.
“texting me straight away like a good girl?"
“i had to.”
nayeon exhaled, closed her eyes and moved her hands to your hips.
“such a good girl for me.”
she kissed you and you never realized how soft lips could be. you laid your arms on her shoulders as she slid her tongue between your teeth, then sucked on your bottom lip till it was sore. when you shifted, you felt how wet you were getting just fantasizing about what that tongue could do to you.
when she pulled away, you saw the desire set deep in her eyes. she tilted her head and sunk her teeth onto your neck. she sucked and licked on your sensitive skin, and you didn’t notice how her hands got under your blouse. you were so sure she’d leave hickeys (and what will you even tell your makeup artists tomorrow?), but the way nayeon’s fingertips traced the curves of your waist left goosebumps on your thighs.
“i-i don’t think i should stay overnight though,” you whined, helping nayeon take off your blouse. “i’m already in so much trouble unnie.”
her bunny-toothed grin appeared as soon as you said that last word and she hurried to get your bra off. “don’t worry, unnie will take care of you.” she tossed your bra aside and steadied her breath staring at your tits. “fuck,” she breathed. “i wish all of seoul could see them.”
she played with your nipples for a while before wrapping her lips around one of them. you threw your head back and moaned, feeling her tongue flick at it and encircle it. she planted kisses across your chest making her way to your other breast and slipped her hands beneath the band of your skirt. you resisted the urge to just spread your legs wide open for her when she pulled it down. you never felt more like a slut than then.
after you kicked the skirt to the side, nayeon kissed you and you whimpered into her mouth. “can i taste you?” she asked, and you nodded and ogled at how the pinkness of her full cheeks spread to her nose.
you squirmed in your seat as you watched her carelessly push back her coffee table and get on her knees. it was mesmerizing seeing her fix her bangs the same way she’d always done when you watched her vlogs or interviews, except this time it was in person, and this time, she’d done it before forcefully dragging you closer to the edge of the sofa.
“fuck…” she groaned. ever since she saw you in that mini skirt, she’d been touching herself to the thought of taking it off of you. now you were in front of her, legs inching apart somewhat unconsciously, she was going to have you. all of you. with your underwear still on, she pressed your thighs further back and took a second to admire the sight of you.
“you’re so wet.” nayeon smirked and dragged her tongue from the bottom of your slit to your clit, the friction from the fabric driving you insane. “so wet for me.” she nearly tore your panties forcing it off of you.
she parted your pussy lips with her long fingers and lapped at your cunt with broad strokes. you writhed and wriggled, sobbing at the way her thick tongue moved onto brushing back and forth over your clit.
“nay-nayeon unnie…”
you bit your lip and looked down, catching her gazing up at you like she was going to devour you. you moaned with each shape she drew with the tip of her tongue.
“my little slut got wet even on the drive over to the restaurant right?”
her tongue teased at your hole, dripping with juices, then sunk into it. you tried moving your hips, grinding against her face to get more of it in, wanting so badly to be filled with her warmth.
“mmh…”
“what a slut,” she muttered, pulling away.
nayeon stood up and ordered you to do the same. she grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you to the window. instinctively, you tried to cover yourself up with your hands and angled your body to the side, nervous at who in those officetels and apartments across the river could’ve seen you.
“no, no,” she said in a low voice, getting behind you and taking your hands in hers, exposing you to the skyline of east seoul. you knew the odds were tiny, but reddened uncontrollably at the thought of some stranger being able to watch. your reputation could’ve been wiped just like that. everyone could’ve found out how much of a slut you were for nayeon. yet, she gently pushed your shoulders down and you obediently took that as a cue to kneel.
“what if someone sees?”
nayeon sighed and sat down, her thighs holding you in place, her clothed chest pressed against your bare back. “you’ll put on a show for them then,” she whispered, and gestured for you to sit down. “you’re good at that aren’t you?”
she forced your legs open, but you tried resisting even to come across faintly as having some sense of dignity. digging her nails into your skin, nayeon spread your legs wide open and you instantly felt the cold air on your pussy again. looking down at all those tiny cars stuck in traffic, at all the red and yellow lights of the city, you shuddered but gulped your doubts straight down. as one of her hands slid down your chest to your abs and finally to your needy pussy, the other groped your breast and rubbed your nipple between a finger and a thumb.
you couldn’t get over how warm and smooth her touch was. she rested her chin on your shoulder and you felt her lips hover behind your ear. “baby, i want the whole world to see you get fucked.”
the moment her fingers skimmed over your clit, you jerked your head back, resting it on her shoulder, and whined. she giggled right in your ear and you felt a wave of tingles run down the small of your back. the image of her eating you out was still burned into your mind.
this was the first time you thought that maybe she just liked to torture you, enjoyed the tension in your thighs as you tried your best to keep them apart. not squeeze them together to get a little more pleasure like a bitch in heat. no, you had more patience than that. just enough to to be able to feel the rise and fall of her chest on your back and not collapse to her feet, pleading to be fucked.
with her index and middle fingers, she slowly parted your folds and you heard the subtle sound of her smacking her lips. “such a pretty pink pussy. i can’t wait to ruin you. can’t wait to hear you beg and cry.” nayeon smacked your cunt and removed a hand from your tits to squeeze your cheeks as you winced in pain. “what do you want? say it.”
“i want you…”
she spanked your pussy again.
“you want unnie to what?”
“i want you use my holes and fuck me like i’m your fuck toy!”
just like that, the pent up horniness from nights wasted fingering yourself senseless to imagined scenarios with her spilled right out. you couldn’t tell how badly that sent her on a power trip, but you had somewhat of an idea. because nayeon dragged her fingers up and down your pussy like it was fucking nothing at all then shoved them so far down your mouth you felt them at the back of your throat.
“suck it,” she ordered.
you obeyed her and wrapped your tongue around the salty slickness of her fingers. you bobbed your head up and down, coating their entire length in your spit. all you could think about was them ripping you open. how she so easily held your tits in the palm of her hand. how much more they would stretch your pussy out than your own fingers.
she pulled them out of your greedy mouth and deftly brought them to your entrance. her fingertips dipped in and out like she was testing you, and the frustration nearly made you break free from her hold.
“please, please, please agh… please fuck me, please!”
she kissed your cheek and held your throat in her free hand. “if you say so,” she quipped, and thrust two of her fingers deep into your hole. she plunged into you fast and hard, you were just dumbstruck at how much they filled you up. she curled her fingers to hit your walls at an angle that made you see stars. your breathing grew ragged as she picked up the pace. nayeon’s grip on your throat tightened and you felt yourself reaching a point where you were so blissed out you would’ve done anything to keep her fucking you at that tempo.
“f-fuck me, fuck oh fuck, please i need you, i need more of you-”
without another word, she forced another finger into you and grunted at how tight you felt, clenched around them. “oh my god, you’re so tight for me,” she sneered, the thought of you feeling so vulnerable and small in her hands made her feel ecstatic. at that point, your brain was mush, and every word that left your tongue was some form of: please, fuck, more, or deeper.
“what was that? d’you want me to slow down honey?” she taunted, and drew her fingers back ever so leisurely. the pressure that was building down in you dissipated and you couldn’t help but grasp at her forearm.
“no- no i was gonna- nayeon… fuck!” you felt tears form and the corners of your eyes. how miserable you must’ve looked to anyone who might’ve peered into the window to see you just there, grinding and fucking onto her unmoving hand until it disappeared. her other hand still on your throat, she shoved you down so you were on all fours.
“you can’t cum now, no, not just yet,” she near growled in your ear. she pushed you around and shifted till your ass was up and facing out onto the skyline. it hadn’t crossed your mind until that night how thrilling it was being treated like a piece of meat in nayeon’s hands. your knees and arms yelped at the cold hard marble tiles, but your belly was hot against the silkyness of her thighs.
then, a hard spank landed on your ass cheek. you shrieked but why were you sticking your ass out even more after that? nayeon massaged your ass and rubbed down to the back of your upper thigh.
“i feel so sorry for giving such a good girl such a bad punishment, but i couldn’t stop myself…” she slapped your ass harder this time and you felt the heat and the pinkness form on your skin. “should i? should i stop?”
you shook your head.
“spank me and fuck me until i’m sore,” you sniffled and rested your cheek on the ground.
nayeon shoved all three fingers back into your sopping wet cunt and pistoned them in and out. the only times she’d ever paused for second were to land a slap on your ass. it stung like hell and each subsequent smack made your clit that bit more sensitive to the accidental brushes of her knuckles.
with every pump deeper into you, nayeon felt your walls squeeze tighter and tighter around her fingers. her arms grew tired and yet she just went faster, knowing how close you were getting.
“cum for me baby, cum for unnie.”
as another smack landed on you, the searing pain combined with the overwhelming pleasure was almost too much to handle. your breath hitched and you clawed at the tiles, nayeon’s pace becoming so unforgiving that you just had to-
“fuck- oh fuck! i’m gonna-”
nayeon nearly came to the sound of your scream. you came so hard you felt like your eyes had rolled back into your skull. speechless, shaking, shivering, even when you felt so overstimulated just having her still fingers inside of you, you could only swipe at her arm. feeling liquid stream down your thigh, you whimpered.
when nayeon pulled your exposed form into her arms, you were enveloped in her warmth and her scent. wordlessly, she rubbed your back and planted tender kisses on your shoulder, up to your jawline and onto your lips.
“i like you,” she confessed. and though it sounded so simple and so light, it gave you butterflies.
she cleared her throat and picked you up. you were initially surprised at how strong she was, then blushed when you thought about the definition in her muscles as she fucked you. she kicked open the door to her bedroom and softly laid you onto her bed. tucking you under her heavy blanket, she gave your forehead a peck and slid into the other side. with how dim the lighting was, you could barely make out how nayeon was just looking at you with a goofy smile plastered on her face.
“i like you too,” you admitted. she stroked your cheek and hummed in contentment. you looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the time on her clock. “fuck. my-my manager, i need to let them know i-”
“shh, shh… darling please don’t worry.” all that fear and anxiety was washed away when nayeon shushed you.
“i’ll handle it, princess.”
-
rahhh first fic! lemme know what you think :D i might continue it but we'll see how it goes... title inspired by underwater by red velvet hehe
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satoruxx · 9 months
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hey bestie <333
congratulations on 200 followers !! you deserve it and more !! 🫶
im thinking some Gojo fluff inspired by After Last Night by Silk Sonic? I love that whole album and I always get gojo vibes from it 🥹
love you and congrats again ‼️🥰
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.1k words summary: fluff, lots of pining, slightly suggestive due to implied 18+ content, satoru is whipped as he should be, he's just a lil guy pls give him a hug he has sm love he wants to share !! a/n: RAHHH casey this request was sm fun i love this song and it absolutely gives satoru vibes !! anyways ty for being my number one supporter babes. i hope you enjoy this @novasatoru mwah ily <33
satoru considers himself to be rational. even though he can be loud, excessive, dramatic, he has always been rational. most people don’t know or understand all the detailed thought he puts behind every decision he makes. all because of his rationality.
sure, sometimes he can be a little reckless, but not in a way that is irrational. he’s reckless in childish ways, ways that make him seem obnoxious and yet frustratingly endearing.
but he’s not reckless like this. not irrational like this.
satoru’s not reckless so he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here, in his bed, naked skin just barely covered by his sheets. he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here first thing in the morning because there’s no way you went to bed with him the previous night. he knows, for sure, that he couldn’t have crossed all the lines he set with you for years in just a matter of minutes.
but the purpled bruises littering your skin, the scattered clothing across his bedroom floor, and the warmth of your bare body pressing against him tells him enough.
he’s speechless for a second, mind going haywire as he tries to remember what exactly happened and how he could’ve been so careless. years and years of friendship with you, all changed in a matter of one night.
you were always supposed to be one of his closest friends. sure, he would pay any price to see you smile and sure, he’d gladly take your side over anyone else’s.
and obviously, satoru would destroy the whole world if you so much as batted your eyes at him and said please.
but that’s normal because he is your best friend.
but no where in his plans did he ever think to cross this line. after so many moons of pushing back his less than appropriate thoughts. after wondering how good your lips would taste as you sweetly whispered his name. after all of that, he didn’t think his self control would dissipate like this.
there’s a brief memory of the previous night, tipsy words of confession and sloppy passionate kisses, that sends his mind reeling.
he’s pulling himself out of bed in an instant, slipping his clothes on and hoping they somehow manage to ground him because god, it feels like his head is floating.
he’s choosing to ignore how fantastic his heart feels to see you curled up in his bed like that, hair splayed across his pillows like you’ve always belonged there.
instead satoru steps into his kitchen, snowy bangs resting across his forehead as he tries to figure out what he’s going to say to you when you wake up. honestly he’s a little worried himself. how would you react? would you tell him you made a mistake or would you be angry at him for letting it happen?
truthfully he’s never cared much about other people’s feelings, but yours somehow have the power to impact his whole day.
he figures that he can live with it, if you think it was a mistake. he’d be pathetically heartbroken, he realizes, but your comfort matters most to him. and if all he was destined for in this life was your friendship, he’d never do anything to jeopardize it. it’d be enough for him.
satoru doesn’t even realize he’s made two cups of coffee instead of one.
he steels himself, watching his murky reflection ripple in the mugs, and knowing that he would respect your wishes no matter how much it bothers him. he won’t say anything, because he'd rather silently live with his own idiotic feelings than risk losing you for good.
“morning.”
he almost jumps, unusually startled because only you could catch the man who saw the world through the Six Eyes off guard. any plans he’s made on what to say or how to say it fly straight out the door when he turns to look at you, his throat going dry as he takes you in.
you hair is mussed and your expression is still dazed, a sleepy pout on your face as you rub at your eyes. you blink at him slowly, an inquisitive little expression on your face as you pad over to him and peer at the stove. “you making food?”
he nods wordlessly, still a little breathless because gods above you’re wearing his shirt like it’s yours and his brain is in overdrive. it’s so hard to think, to even breathe, because satoru has wanted this for so long and it’s finally here like it had always been here in the first place. like it’s normal, regular.
“can i have some too, ‘toru? i’m really hungry.”
he has to take a minute to bask in the intimacy of this moment because it’s honestly making his thoughts stutter. “u-uh yeah, ‘course you can.” he’s handing you one of the mugs before he can even comprehend it, and you take it from him gratefully.
he feels oddly parched as he watches you take a sip, looking at him with dewy eyes over the rim, and he waits with bated breath as you open your mouth to speak. “did you sleep okay last night?”
it’s such an innocent question and he’s almost completely sure he shouldn’t be overthinking it like a fool but he knows it in his soul that he’s nothing if not a fool for you. you make every rational thought evaporate from his normally over calculating brain, make his body react without a touch, make his mouth move faster than his thoughts can.
and this time is no different.
“fuck i’m so in love with you.”
you blink up at him, and he’s cursing himself for even opening his mouth, but then you’re grinning up at him like he’s said the most endearing thing ever. “well i should hope so. i’d be pretty bummed if you told me you loved me last night and then woke up and changed your mind.”
satoru’s breath hitches, and he briefly wonders when and how he managed to confess his love for you the previous night, but then he realizes he doesn’t care all that much because you’re smiling at him like he puts the stars in your sky.
which for you, he absolutely would do.
so he does the only thing he feels is right for the moment. he bends down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, heartbeat unusually erratic as he feels you melt into him, before pulling back and giving you a cheeky smile. “i’m not even close to done loving you.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
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Used to be Young || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader Summary: Being the life of the party isn't all it's cracked up to be but you manage to turn over a new leaf and start afresh after being dumped by your first love. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, hurt/comfort WC: 2.5k
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A few years earlier… You barely registered the words coming out of Charles’ mouth, the arrogance of youth numbing you to what you were about to lose. You had a career that had exploded overnight, an album in the top charts, more money than you knew what to do with. How could you lose anything after everything you had achieved? You were invincible.
“It’s over, I can’t do this anymore,” Charles repeated over the loud music filling the open bar. He cast his eyes over you from the skimpy dress that left little to the imagination to your red eyes from the joint you had shared with your back up dancers. “I don’t even recognise you.”
“Where are you going?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop as you pressed your lips to his cheek. You kissed your way across his jaw before nipping his ear and laughing. “We’re just having fun! Lighten up, Charles.”
“No, you’re having fun,” he said as he peeled your fingers off his shirt. “If you want to go wild, then go wild, but I’m not going to stick around to watch this shit.”
You let him go. You watched him leave as the healing skin behind your ear began to itch with your latest tattoo. You turned away before the crowd swallowed him whole, your fingers already reaching for another shot of liquor.
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Winter Break - Music Award Show Charles would recognise your voice anywhere, no matter how much time passed he could still locate it in a crowd. It was as if the frequency of your voice was one he was attuned to and it called to him when he was meant to be focusing on the interviewer before him.
It had been a year since you last toured, a year since you last released a song. Charles knew, because he still listened to your albums and watched every music video- much like how you still followed his Formula 1 career. He waited for any news about you, but the last year had been silent. Your social media was deleted, paparazzi photos few and far between but what he had seen had made his heart ache. You had changed, no longer the carefree spirit he fell in love with in a whirlwind romance swimming in alcohol and snapshot decisions.
Charles couldn’t help but wonder what you had been doing in your absence. Had you met someone like he had? Had you fallen in love and then fallen out of love like he had? He wanted to know if you were happy.
Charles was in a daze as he took his seat. His invitation to the award show had come thanks to the rising popularity of his sport mixed with his music and he scanned the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He knew you were there, he knew it with every fibre of his being, he just needed to see you.
The lights dimmed and goosebumps prickled beneath the suit he wore as your voice caressed his ear. He could have sworn you were sitting behind him, serenading him and only him, but there you were - right where you belonged.
The truth is bulletproof, there's no foolin' you I don't dress the same Me and who you say I was yesterday Have gone our separate ways
Charles could barely breathe as the soft lighting warmed your skin, setting you in a glow that was somehow both powerful and ethereal. There was no need for any theatrics when your voice was emotive enough to outperform any dancers or pyrotechnics. All you needed was a stage and a microphone.
Left my livin' fast somewhere in the past 'Cause that's for racin' cars Turns out open bars lead to broken hearts And goin' way too far
Your eyes were closed, brows pinched, as if the memory of that night hurt even now. The huge screens around the room were filled with the image and Charles swallowed the lump in his throat as regret filled him for his role in it all.
I know I used to be crazy I know I used to be fun You say I used to be wild I say I used to be young
Charles closed his eyes as they began to burn, but still your voice infiltrated his soul and reverberated with the truth.
You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'causе I used to be young
Charles forced himself to watch the stranger he loved flourish before his eyes. He had seen you grow from a teenager into a young adult, thinking the flower that blossomed was the final product. Like the dandelions you had blown to the breeze and wished upon with him years ago, you had shed the petals of immaturity and become a woman commanding the wind to carry her higher.
You hated how the spotlight burned your skin and you told yourself it was the lamp that made your eyes water as you screwed them shut. 
The words you had penned on the back of a scrap of paper had come to you on a Sunday afternoon. You weren’t the religious type, but Sunday was a holy day in your house and your worship began at lights out. Words had failed you when the partying stopped. You wondered who you were without the late nights and endless faces that enabled you to lose your values, your friends, your love. You thought your music had died with your younger self. 
But on that Sunday, something had changed. On that Sunday, you saw a man at his lowest and heard the heartache in his voice. On that Sunday, you watched a man carry more burden than any shoulders could bear and somehow, somehow, he smiled. Thousands of miles away in Brazil, Charles had taught you a lesson in letting go, of hope and resilience and maturity. 
The words had come easily after that.
Take onе, pour it out, it's not worth cryin' 'bout The things you can't erase Like tattoos and regrets, words I never meant And ones that got away
You didn’t plan to open your eyes until the song was over, you didn’t want to see what the audience thought of the performance that was so unlike how you used to sound, but you did it anyway. The spotlight blinded you for a moment before your eyes adjusted and time seemed to freeze when you found Charles staring back. 
Time had changed him too, his jawline had sharpened and the suit fitted his filled out body so much better than they ever did. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and changed his entire face so that he could never be mistaken as anything but a man who was comfortable in his own skin.
He used to say you completed him but now you knew you had only filled the piece of his heart that was missing after his father died. You couldn’t complete a boy who was still growing into a man, it was impossible when you were both too young to know what complete even meant. Complete didn’t mean whole, it was just the acceptance of who you are and forgiving who you were. 
You weren’t in some grandiose ballgown or shock-inspiring barely-there outfit, you wore what you felt comfortable in. Charles smiled, his dimple appearing as you slipped the microphone from the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. His eyes never left yours as you took a seat facing him and swung your feet in the open air, returning the smile.
I know I used to be crazy Messed up, but, God, was it fun I know I used to be wild That's 'cause I used to be young
You may have been the one singing but you heard him loud and clear when his hand rose up above his head. 
Those wasted nights are not wasted I remember every one I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young
You heard him loud and clear when he made no move to wipe the tears on his cheeks.
You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young
There were no words that passed between you as you left the stage, but when he rose to his feet you heard him loud and clear.
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The loud knock on your door echoed around the temporary dressing room but the voice that followed was softer. Your fingers rested on the door handle until you took a deep breath and turned it. The air left your lungs as you were struck by the image of him standing in your doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other in his hair as he wondered if he was making a mistake.
Up close, he looked even more handsome but it was his cologne that took you deep into the past. The intensity of the CK bottle used to be overpowering on the senses when he would douse himself in the stuff, but now he wore a complex, rich scent that invited you to lean closer and inhale. His finer tastes had matured along with the rest of him.
“Hey,” he said as he looked into your room, taking in the details from the water bottles to the ambient sounds you relaxed to. A smile transformed his face and he stepped inside when you opened the door wider in invitation. “Is this my music?”
“It helps me to relax,” you admitted as you closed the door behind him. 
“Your song is…” he shook his head as he trailed off, like he was struggling to articulate what he wanted to say and he had to settle for something less because he couldn’t quite grasp the word, “beautiful.”
“Thank you.” You smiled shyly at your feet and fiddled with your hair that had been styled up for the red carpet walk. 
Charles’ eyes followed your hand and widened before he grabbed it. The warmth of his skin on yours was something you had never been able to replicate, there was no man or woman whose touch could come close to his. You knew because you had tried and tried before resigning yourself the hard fact that you had lost the best thing you had. 
“Is that…my number?” His fingertips turned your head to see the tattoo tucked behind your ear.
You laughed as you remembered how you were going to surprise him once it healed, but he had already gone by then. “Yeah, it is. And I don’t regret it, before you ask.”
“I’m glad.” The corners of his lips curled up as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I have so many questions, but I think they would take all night. How have you…what have you…god, I don’t even know where to start.”
“As it happens, I have no plans,” you said as you took a seat on the couch and patted the space beside you.
“No after party?”
You shook your head as he sat down and you grabbed your bottle of water from the coffee table. “That’s not my scene anymore.”
Charles draped his arm across the couch as he tucked one leg up and settled so he could face you. “What were you going to do after the show tonight then?”
“Honestly?” You chuckled at the question and picked at the label on the bottle. “I was going to go home, order a pizza and watch the new season of Drive to Survive.”
Charles bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “Really?”
“Don’t laugh,” you feigned annoyance as you slapped his hand. “I’m missing the races so it will have to do until next month. Are you excited?”
He caught your hand before you could take it back and he traced his fingers over the splatterings of new tattoos you had collected throughout the years. “Hmm, I’m optimistic.”
“Always were,” you murmured as you let your hand relax in his. “But what about the car?”
“Why don’t you come to testing and find out?” He seemed to come to his senses as he dropped your hand. “You’re probably busy and we’re practically strangers now. Shit, you probably have a boyfriend. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Charles, shut up,” you laughed as you caught his face in your palms and felt the texture of the short beard he now sported. “I know you too well that we could never really be strangers.”
“We’ve both changed.” His head lowered into your hands and you watched his green eyes search your face for the wild child he used to know.
“We’ve grown up, there’s a difference.”
His breath whispered across your wrists as he looked down at the distance closing between your bodies. “So do you?”
“Do I what?” 
“Have a boyfriend.”
You smiled sadly. “I could never have a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be fair when my heart always belonged to someone else.”
Charles started to lean towards you, his eyes on your lips as if he could already taste him, but you pulled away. Hurt flashed in those eyes and you wanted to erase it immediately, it took every ounce of control you had not to pull him back into a kiss. 
“We’re not strangers, Charles,” you said softly as you took his hand and tried to get him to look at you again, “but we aren’t those people any more.”
“Okay,” he nodded as he understood what went unsaid, “then we’ll get to know each other again. When did you become the sensible one?”
“After my stupidity cost me you, I suppose.”
The rest of the award show didn’t hold any interest after the conversation in your dressing room so you had both disappeared. The evening had been mild with the worst of the winter weather already passing, so you had enjoyed the quieter streets that had been closed for the night. Charles had kept you company and you both went unrecognised as you walked arm in arm to the pizzeria you promised was the best around. For a man who worked a lot of the time in Italy that was going to be tested when you got home.
It was midnight by the time you reached your apartment, the tower clock across the street tolling for the start of a new day. You would look back on that moment and realise it was then that the slate was cleaned. Whatever conversations that happened or didn’t happen were obsolete, whatever mistakes made before that moment were gone.
In the early hours on a Sunday of all days, you stepped inside your home with Charles at your side. Neither of you knew what the future held but by the same token neither of you were ready for this to be the end. After all, this was a new beginning.
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babydollmarauders · 6 months
Text
WYD NOW? — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!singer!reader
summary: in which y/n writes a song about her ex-boyfriend, 3 years after their breakup, and it gets back to him, leading to their reconnection
notes: inspired by the song WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. ending kinda sucks, but ehh i did my best. pretty sure i lost motivation for this halfway through it, but i tried to power through.
not my gif
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*** JUNE 17TH, 2018 ***
“i bet, at this time in a few years, we’ll be painting the walls of our shared apartment.” my boyfriend’s whisper rings through my ears as i turn my head to look at him.
heat rises to my cheeks, Jack’s blue eyes gazing into mine.
“yeah?” i laugh, running a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower he took before coming over.
“mhm.” he hums in confirmation, his hand snaking up under the stolen shirt that adorns my body, gripping my waist and pulling me closer. “i’ll be playing hockey, and you’ll be a big pop star, my little songbird.”
i bury my face into his neck in attempt to hide the redness on the apples of my cheeks from the nickname.
“you gonna write songs about me?” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the side of my head.
“i already do.” i murmur, my lips brushing against his collarbone, causing him to shiver.
*** JULY 30TH, 2019 ***
“i don’t think i understand.” it feels like my head is underwater, my lungs burning for oxygen, but unable to receive it.
“we can still be friends, y/n. you can call me whenever.” Jack sits on my bed, gripping my hands in his hold. “the future is just, so far away and we don’t know what’ll happen.
“i don’t want my dreams to hold you back from achieving yours, y/n. you may not see it right now, but this just seems like the best option for now. and maybe, down the line, once we’re both at a stable place in our careers, if we’re both single, we can revisit us.”
my head is bobbing ‘yes’ but my heart is screaming ‘no!’
it’s like my brain understands where he’s coming from, that he’s being logical and that he’s doing this for the greater good of both of us; no matter what we’ve always thought, we’re still just kids, we were dreaming. but my heart isn’t getting that message. all my heart knows is that it’s being crushed into a thousand pieces and it feels pretty unsalvageable right now.
“are you okay?”
it’s my instinct to tell him ‘yes’. my instinct to not let him know how much he’s really hurting me. how much i want to scream that we’ll be fine. that i would give up my dream to be by his side while he accomplishes his. but i know that would just hurt him; because that isn’t what he wants.
he may be hurting me, but he’s doing it for all the right reasons. he doesn’t want me to push my dreams aside for his, because he wants to see me living them. he wants the best for me.
“yeah, i’m okay. i understand.”
*** PRESENT: SOCIAL MEDIA ***
y/nonthegram
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liked by tatemcrae and 246,517 others
y/nonthegram in your faded t-shirt
that i’ve kept this long
i still hear you laughing
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user13 NEW LYRICS??
user92 that’s what i was thinking too! seems too poetic to just be a caption
trevorzegras hey that looks familiar
user57 OH MY GOD NEW MUSIC?
user04 AHHH ANNOUNCE A NEW ALBUM PLEASE
user6 I’LL EVEN JUST TAKE A NEW SINGLE! I JUST NEED NEW MUSIC
tatemcrae my best friend writes the best captions
y/nonthegram MY best friend writes the best songs
tatemcrae says you!
user83 new love song? break-up song? both?
colecaufield what’s this 👀
y/nonthegram
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liked by trevorzegras and 283,752 others
y/nonthegram surprise! ‘WYD Now?’ out tonight at midnight.
wholly written in my bedroom at 2am, this song means the absolute most to me, and i hope some of you can find comfort in it like i have <3
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user04 OH MY GOD! THANK YOU FOR BLESSING OUR EARS TONIGHT!
colecaufield so proud of you!
y/nonthegram thank you, coley ♥️
user94 since when does she know nhl players?
user63 she went to high school with some of the 2019 draft class
user72 I CAN’T WAIT OMG
user18 SHAKING, CRYING, THROWING UP! I’M SO EXCITED
_alexturcotte our little melody makin’ munchkin, making moves!
y/nonthegram oh god please don’t bring back “melody makin’ munchkin”
_alexturcotte too late
tatemcrae GO BEST FRIEND THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND
y/nonthegram LEMME KISS YOUR FACE!! MWAH!!
user55 i’m so curious to hear these lyrics 😭 how am i gonna wait 8 more hours?!
jackhughes
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liked by y/nonthegram and 352,850 others
jackhughes 3/3
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user77 hey wait, didn’t @/y/nonthegram date Jack in high school? is the new song yesterday about him?
user55 yess! it’s gotta be!
trevorzegras dizzyyy
user91 you should go listen to y/n’s new song 👀
user02 have you heard ‘WYD Now?’ ???
user36 omg he remembered to post 3/3
colecaufield same time next summer? 🫡
subbanator 🚀
y/nonthegram
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liked by jackhughes and 227,951 others
y/nonthegram i’m so grateful for all the love on ‘WYD Now?’ these past couple days! thank you all! <3
here’s some photos @/tatemcrae took at our song celly night last night to celebrate the release of WYD Now? and greedy!
in celebration, i’ll be answering some questions in the comments!
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user74 is the song fictional? or was it inspired by someone?
y/nonthegram not fictional <3
user99 is this a single off the upcoming album? or just a normal song?
y/nonthegram the album is still being written, so i can’t confirm or deny if this is a single because i’m not sure yet if it’ll be on the track list! <3
colecaufield omg y/n please come to Montreal! i love you so much! you’re my idol!
y/nonthegram hey remember that time i bumped you with my car? i think we should do that again! i’ll stomp on the gas this time!
colecaufield omg you noticed me!!
user42 at 18, where did you imagine yourself being at this age?
y/nonthegram New Jersey <3
trevorzegras where did he set the bar?
y/nonthegram above the moon
user28 if the song isn’t fictional, then who’s it about?
user96 it’s 100% about jack hughes. if you scroll way down on her page, there’s pics of her and jack in high school, but they stop when they were 18. then he moved to new jersey and now he’s playing hockey, like the song states “you finally got the job you like”. that we’re all aware of, she didn’t have any other boyfriends in high school. she and jack seemingly dated from ages 16-18 until he left for the NHL
liked by y/nonthegram
_quinnhughes 💙
user10 this song was amazing! i really related and it made me feel so seen!
user88 big question is: has jack heard the song yet?
jackhughes call me?
user98 @/user88 if he hadn’t, i’m guessing he has now
*** PRESENT: REAL LIFE ***
my heart races as the notification comes through.
i wasn’t sure if he listened to my music, or if the song would get back to him. i just needed to get my feelings down on paper, and then it turned into a song, and then i liked it too much to not release it.
the night i wrote it, i had played a small show in New York, and i could’ve sworn i saw him in the back of the venue. of course, i knew it wasn’t, but it had rattled me; bringing all my feelings for him back to the forefront of my brain.
“call him.” my head snaps up to face my best friend, her eyes soft as she looks at me from the doorway.
“i-” Tate cuts me off with a shake of her head.
“don’t make excuses, y/n. call him.” she repeats, “you deserve to be happy, and from what you’ve told me, he makes you happy.”
she doesn’t stick around; instead bidding me goodbye and heading back to my guest room to give me some privacy.
i pace my bedroom, iphone clutched in my hand. his contact is pulled up, but i can’t seem to build up the nerve to call him. though, it seems i don’t have to, because my phone begins to ring instead, Jack’s photo displaying on the screen.
“hi.” i breathe out, pressing the phone to my ear.
“hi.” he repeats. “i heard your new song. i’m so proud of you, my little songbird.”
my face heats up, blood rushing to my cheeks. i haven’t heard that nickname in almost four years.
“thank you.” my words come out a whisper, still in disbelief that i’m talking to him again.
“did you mean it?” the question causes a panic to erupt in me, swarms of butterflies erupting in my nervous system.
“did i mean what, Jacky?” i need him to say it.
“what you wrote,” he clears his throat, “in the song. did you mean it all? do you still think of me? do you really wanna try again?”
laying sprawled out on my bed, i stare up at the ceiling as i speak.
“i wouldn’t have written it if it wasn’t true.”
“oh- okay. so, uh,” he stutters, but i can hear the smile on his lips, causing the same reaction upon my own face, “where are you right now?”
“um, my apartment?” my brows thread together in confusion, but he just chuckles.
“i mean like, are you living in LA? are you home in Michigan? what state?”
“oh.” i bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment. “i live in New York, Jack.”
“really?” his voice is emotionally distant and seemingly hurt. “so close?”
“yeah.” i nod, although he can’t see me. “i’ve gone to a few of your games.”
“you did?”
“mhm.” i hum in confirmation. “i just- i didn’t wanna be the one to reach out and then have you think oddly of me or have you already be in a relationship or something. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i just didn’t wanna be seen as that clingy ex-girlfriend or anything.”
“that’s not what you are, y/n.” he sighs, “would you wanna meet up soon? catch up? i’d love to hear about your glamorous new pop star life.”
“i’d love to. although, i wouldn’t call myself a pop star, Jacky.”
“you are to me.” i blush at his words, glad he can’t see how much of a mess i am at the moment. “are you free on saturday? i have practice in the morning, but after that, maybe we could go to lunch?”
“yeah, i can do that.” i confirm.
“okay great, i’ll text you on friday to hash out details?”
“sounds great!” my cool hand rises to press against my heated face in attempt to cool myself down.
“great. i gotta go, Luke and i are going out with the guys. i’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”
“yeah. bye, Jack.” i wait for him to repeat a goodbye before hanging up, burying face in my pillow and letting out a muffled scream.
***
my knee bounces underneath the table of the New York City diner, my hands clasped together on the table.
Jack should be here any minute, and saying i’m nervous would be an understatement. my palms are clammy, my legs won’t stop shaking, and i’m eighty percent sure that i have no skin left on my bottom lip because i’ve chewed it all off.
the little bell above the door rings and my head snaps up to look, but it’s just a young couple with their toddler. i send a friendly smile to the tired looking mother before looking back down at my hands that won’t stop fidgeting.
i zone out, retreating back into my head and all the thoughts that have been plaguing me since we planned this meeting.
what if he doesn’t like me anymore?
what if he has a girlfriend and he’s just trying to be nice?
or worse, what if he’s just asked me here so he could tell me to leave him alone? to stop writing songs about him.
“hi.” i’m pulled out of my thoughts by Jack sliding into the booth across from me, a gentle smile on his face.
his hand snakes across the table to hold mine, and i can’t help but feel like a teenager again, back when we used to have dates like this all the time; where he would hold my hand over the table and we would laugh and joke around for hours.
“hey.” i smile back, giving his hand a small squeeze in return.
“how are you?” he questions. he brings his hand back in order to hold his menu, but his focus remains on me, not even glancing down at the menu yet.
“i’m good!” i nod. “how are you?”
“good, i’m glad. i’m good too.”
we’re interrupted by a waitress, taking a second to look over our menu’s before giving her our orders.
once she retreats, i squirm from the small talk, never having been any good at it. which Jack seems to remember.
“so, how’s the pop star life?” he smirks teasingly, and i giggle.
“not a pop star.” i remind him, shaking my head. “but it’s good. i like where i’m at right now in my career. i like having a strong fanbase but still being unknown enough that i’m not being hounded on or followed like, say, Taylor Swift.
“i’m able to just write my music and put it out, go on small tours, interact with my fans on a more personal level; it’s really nice. i don’t know if i would want it to be more than that.”
he nods in understanding, a wide grin on his face as he listens.
“i get it. and i’m really glad you’ve achieved what you wanted. i’ve always rooted for you.”
“what about you? mr. ninety-nine point season!” he blushes at my words, shaking his head and looking down at his hands, which rest on the tabletop. “how’s that?”
“it’s good! really good.” he looks back up at me, and i have to fight myself from getting lost in his eyes like i would when we were seventeen. “i love it. it’s hard, it’s a lot of work, but it’s amazing. and honestly, i’m pretty glad i’m not on a canadian team. i like that i can go out and still have a pretty normal life outside of hockey, ya know? not be stopped on the street a bunch.”
“yeah, i get it.” i tell him. “i’m so glad you’re happy though. you play great, as you always have.”
he releases a ‘thanks’ before a silence settles over us, neither of us sure what exactly to say next.
i begin to play with the paper wrapper from my straw, winding it around my finger before sliding it off and gently pulling it straight again.
“so, Cole sends me your songs.”
snap! the paper wrapper breaks in two as i look up at him.
“he does?”
“yeah. you know i don’t get on social media too much, so i don’t always know right away when you put one out, but Cole sends me all of them. just in case i miss one.” he explains.
my head bobs up and down as i try to display a level of cool, “oh.”
“that doesn’t bother you, does it?” he asks. “that i don’t always listen to them right away?”
“not at all! i didn’t really think you listened to them at all.” i confess, sinking lower into the booth. “not really your genre.”
he smiles gently, reaching forward to hold my hand tightly in his.
“y/n, you could write a children’s nursery rhyme, and i would still listen to it.”
my head tips back against the booth, joyous laughter spilling from my lips. my nose scrunches, resulting in a small snort, which cause him to laugh as well.
“you’re just saying that.” i choke out, and he shakes his head.
“no! i’m serious! i would!” Jack insists, right as the waitress arrives with our food. she sets our food in front of us, making sure we’re all set before she retreats.
a comfortable small talk takes over as we eat; discussing our friends and their accomplishments since graduation.
“you remember that time,” Jack starts through broken laughter, “that you hit Cole with your car because he said he didn’t think it would hurt?”
“yes! and i barely even tapped him, but the big baby whined that it hurt so bad, i may have crushed his NHL dreams!” my face hurts from smiling so big, but i can no longer fight it.
“and then he was fine and back to practice that afternoon! not even a bruise left on him!” he retorts.
“ever the dramatic, Cole is.” i sigh, sitting back in my seat from position slouched over the table.
“since we’re walking down memory lane, do you remember how i said that maybe down the line, we could revisit us?”
i’m sobered up now, my smile gone as i eye him. he’s playing with his bracelets, a sign of nerves from him, and i just now realize that he’s still wearing the string friendship bracelet i gave him at eighteen; just before his draft.
i swallow the lump that built in throat, nodding, “yeah.”
“you think maybe now would be a good time to do that?” he asks. “start slow; go on dates again, maybe you could come over sometime for movie night with Luke and i, come to a few more of my games, where i actually know you’re there this time. and then see where that could take us?”
butterflies swarm my stomach, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, and my teeth sink into my lower lip, biting back a smile.
“i’d love that, Jack.”
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nav-i-nav · 15 days
Text
Actually, while we are at it, can we talk about how awful a lot of the fanbase treats Basil? My man can’t catch a break because almost everyone misinterprets him one way or another.
Where do I even start? Literally everything he does is taken the wrong way. There’s the people who characterize him as an obsessive yandere who only cares about Sunny and did everything in his power to isolate him. On the other hand, we have people who just remove one of the basic core aspects of him as a whole and make him an empty husk with no real personality.
Headacanon him however you want, but also try to understand him? I don’t know how people can say he only cares about Sunny when it’s clear he deeply appreciates his friends. He has a stronger bond with Sunny, but that doesn’t mean he’s a possessive and obsessed person who is toxic.
He definitely fucked up along the way, but his actions were never intended to hurt Sunny intentionally. He was in a panic and all he wanted was to keep his best friend safe. People constantly treat him as he’s a disgusting person for simple fact he shows mental illness signs, which is incredibly disheartening because there IS people in real life who act this way and can’t help it! What a relief it is to know people will treat me or my friends like this if we dare show an ounce of distress or panic!
Being mentally ill does not justify your actions, but this also doesn’t mean you are allowed to treat people who suffer from them like scum. People like Basil deserve to get help, to have people who support them so they can start healing. Basil clearly didn’t have that support, the only person that was there for him being his bedridden grandmother who he eventually lost.
And on the other hand, we have people who just choose to get rid of Basil’s personality altogether and characterise him as this character who is all suffering and trauma based off things that are NOT canon. It’s true that Basil’s life doesn’t exactly fit a “normal” childhood (having to live with his grandmother for unknown reasons) but that doesn’t immediately mean he is beyond traumatized? Basil is a little shy, sure, but a lot of people are. Basil used to be a smart and lively kid who loved his friends dearly. It wasn’t until AFTER the incident that he spiralled to the point he is where we see him in game.
People either disregard his trauma and paint him as a villain (let’s make one thing clear, there are NO villains in OMORI), or try to give him even more trauma for no apparent reason. All we know is that his parents aren’t really present in his life, and while that may bring some issues, from what we can see in cutscenes and the photo album, Basil lived a comfortable life surrounded by a loving family member and friends who cared about him.
You are free to explore Basil’s character however you like, but there’s a point where it no longer feels like Basil.
There is nothing wrong with showing his gentle side, just as how there’s nothing wrong to explore his unhealthy behaviour. But focusing on only one of the aspects of his entire self just turns him into a one-dimensional character with no redeemable qualities.
In my opinion, Basil is one of the best examples of a person struggling with mentally illness in media, yet people choose to ignore the complexity of his character to have either a selfish and dangerous yandere or a cute and shy femboy who’s only there to look pretty.
Write him like the mess he is. He is unstable. He is resentful, he is paranoid. That’s what makes Basil’s character so loved. That’s what makes him feel so relatable and human. Ignoring one side of his self takes away all of that. OMORI is a game about acceptance and forgiving. Why shouldn’t we apply those terms to their characters? It’s rather hypocritical for the fanbase to treat Sunny as a poor boy who only did what he did due to stress and trauma and then mark Basil as a psychopath with no redeemable features as if he wasn’t also a scared child who witnessed his very best friend push his sister down the stairs.
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playsthetics · 2 years
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Mini boards for Halsey’s If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power
Song: Lilith
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holybibly · 1 month
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when i tell you that hongjoong has had my shy submissive ass in a chokehold these past few weeks,, i can’t stop thinking about riding him in his studio (maybe even with seonghwa watching 👀) and having him taunt me like “aww poor baby couldn’t wait? needed me that badly?” oh my GOD.
kim hongjoong when i (consensually) get my hands on you I’ll give you the night of your life
Today is the last, the hard hours continue until the end of the week.
Looks like you’re not the only one under our captain’s cute little finger. Most of the requests I get now concern him.
Something makes you incredibly soft and submissive when you have sex in the studio with Hongjoong. It's just a certain level of intimacy between you that only the two of you realise. But lately, more and more, you've started to imagine what it would be like to have Songhwa's sparkling cat eyes watching you as you bounce up and down on Hongjun's cock.
When they started working on their new album MATZ, that idea became even more powerful. There were always three of you. The small studio became cramped and filled with too much sexual tension. Every time you sat on Hongjoong's lap, you felt Songhwa's hot, dark gaze slide over you, making you squirm in your seat and rub against Hongjun's cock in the most delightful way. You're getting so wet that you think you're going to stain your boyfriend's trousers.
Joong doesn't seem to mind being in public at all, as his hand quickly finds its way under your dress shirt. Or, to be more precise, under the shirt you wear as a dress. The warm, possessive touch of his palm against your needy pussy sends a pleasant shiver throughout your body.
"Wait! What are you doing? Hongjoong, stop it right now. Hwa is still there." You whimper softly into his neck, but damn, he smells so delicious. You don't even notice how you start to kiss him. Slowly, lazily, you lick his honey skin. Joong is just so sweet, so bitter, so spicy—damn, he is just so divine. 
"Mmm… please kiss me. I want you to kiss me." You moan into his neck as you run the tip of your tongue along the tantalising mole. You will find yourself falling into subspace without even realising it. The effect that Hongjoong have on you wash away any rational thought.
"So needy, aren't you baby?" He chuckles with a dark chuckle and runs his fingers through your hair. "My baby just a little slut, you act so naughty when Seonghwa is looking at you. Are you going to show him your pretty pussy as well, mm?"
"Whatever it is that makes you happy."
"You are so pretty. Isn't she beautiful, Hwa?"
"A beauty, for sure." You just go with the flow and let yourself get lost in the velvety sound of their voices. Seonghwa has always sounded so sexy and dark, or is that just a figment of your imagination?
"Do you know that she looks even more beautiful when she is riding on my dick?" Hongjoong kisses your lips sweetly and lifts up your dress to reveal your pretty, semi-sheer panties. This cute but slutty set is what he especially loves. "Do you want a look?"
"Limits?" Hwa asks, getting up from where he's sitting and coming closer to you. His hot body is pressed against your back and his soft, inviting lips are touching the back of your neck. It hits you like an electric current through your body.
"Please, I need you so much. God, daddy, I need you to be inside me so badly. My pussy hurts." You shake your hips desperately, clinging to Hongjoong's shoulders and lean your head back against Seonghwa's, immediately getting trapped by his gaze. His eyes are impenetrable dark and you feel like you want to be swallowed."I beg you."
"Absolutely unlimited. You can do whatever you want".
That's just how you find yourself, desperately bouncing on your gorgeous boyfriend's cock as Seonghwa rubs his graceful long fingers over your clit, further stimulating you and leaving wet kisses along your neck and shoulders. Hongjoong plays with your breasts, pinching your nipples and tugging at them. He bites and kisses you so hard that every single cell in your body dries up like a white flame.
"You look so perfect between us, you sweet little slut. We'll just ruin your needy pussy. That's what you want, isn't it?"
And yes, that is exactly what you have such a craving for.
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hopeastrz · 6 months
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𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 | 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨/𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚/𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬
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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 + 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭.
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭!.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
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𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 go through a drastic change of style/aesthetics at some points of their lives, and this needs to be studied, so for starters let’s take Halsey and Doja cat for example.
Both of them are 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 (nearly have the same ascendant too), and we all know how their debut music was like, their songs were quite light and feminine, with Halsey most famous track “Colors” and Doja’s “Candy.” You can see libra themes in these songs, flirting, crushes, even the albums were pink or blue which are the colors that represent Libra, there they explore the excitement of falling in love, basically anything Venusian related.
People with this specific combination in a chart, are bound to have a fateful transformation in the way they express themselves and style, especially in their art due to the daily exposure of Scorpio themes throughout their lives, heartbreak, trauma related to sex, deaths etc, most of them had troubled love stories and that’s the downfall of having a 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒, especially Halsey, she got cheated on, miscarried basically went through hell and back.. after all of this they won’t be the same, and it’ll most likely take a bit dark turn from there, their femme fatale will come out sooner or later, we can see this in Halsey’s Album “if i can’t have love, i want power,” and doja’s “scarlet, paint the town red,” both of them nearly have the same aesthetics now, where they explore a new side of femininity, dark femininity.
That’s why their change now doesn’t surprise me, astrologically speaking it makes sense.
𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧, has these placements too, and i have a hunch that he’ll experience the same change as them!.
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forteafy · 1 year
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Vices & Virtues | F1 Masterlist ♡ [ONGOING]
My current hyperfixation combonation between F1 & P!ATD since their breakup has lead me to write one-shots inspired by my favourite album, 'Vices and Virtues.'
This is a work in progress, and I would LOVE to know what one-shot's you'd like to see first! Please REPLY or MESSAGE me and let me know!
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The Ballard of Mona List | FA14 (Assistant!Reader)
You’ve been assistant to the driving legend Fernando Alonso for three years now; there is nothing you wouldn’t do for him. When one request leaves both him and you questioning everything, what will happen to your relationship?
Let’s Kill Tonight | DR3 (Singer!Reader)
At the height of your career, you’re invited to perform at the Australian GP performance park. What you’re not aware of is the fact Red Bull’s Daniel Riccardo is quite possibly your biggest fan – not in a creepy way, more of an ‘unrequited love’ way.
Hurricane | LH44 (Royal!Reader)
Lewis Hamilton didn’t expect the highlight of his knighthood to be meeting the Princess. You didn’t expect the highlight of the knighthood to be the man leaving his phone number on a napkin. A secret relationship begins between a princess and a driver. 
Memories | LN4 (Journalist!Reader)
You've known Lando for as long as you can remember, the two of you have been inseparable. There has always been a silent promise to be together forever. Sometimes, the world can be cruel and choices inevitably have to be made for you both.
Trade Mistakes | PG10 (SingleMom!Reader)
The worst thing a parent can hear is that their child is in the emergency room. When you find out it was your ex-boyfriend, (her father) who bought them in, will your heart be able to take it?
Ready To Go | CS55 (Student!Reader)
Everybody knows how a holiday romance works; two weeks of passion before the person forgets about you the moment you land back in your home country. What happens when said person shows up on your doorstep with a bouquet of roses and two paddock passes?
Always | CL16 (Chef!Reader) [4.1K, completed]
Neither of you wanted to break up, not truly. No matter where Charles goes, who’s bed he wakes up in or how many times he sees you, he’ll never be able to move on. Will he drop everything the one day you call for help? Of course, he will. 
The Calender | GR63 (Actress!Reader)
He promised he would be there. You have always been there for George, on every single day that he needed you, and the days he didn’t think he did. Will he be able to keep his commitment and be there for the biggest night of your career?
Sarah Smiles | SV5 (Engineer!Reader) [3.3K, completed]
You and Sebastian are the same person; ultra-focused on your career and surrounded by a life built and designed especially for you. When your worlds collide, you can’t help but wanting to start letting one another in, maybe the ultimate power couple will be born out of a successful race. 
Nearly Witches (Ever Since We Met…) | MV1 (Horner!Reader)
After the untimely divorce of his older brother, Christian Horner welcomes his niece to spend a summer season by his side at Red Bull Racing. Golden Boy, Max Verstappen is infatuated with the girl and wants nothing more than to put a smile back on her face. And possibly her mobile number. 
PLEASE let me know if you'd like to be tagged! I can't wait to begin writing these and releasing them all to you, let me know what ones you'd like to see! ♡
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belovedmusings · 6 months
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Your Cult Leader
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18+ Explicit Smut 🚫minors DNI🚫
Cult leader! music producer! Geto x AFAB! popstar! reader loosely inspired by The Idol (just the dynamic between the two, but in this AU Suguru’s not a psycho POS like the guy is in the show, so no gross themes) where they have sex in the studio.
Relevant tags: light dirty talk, oral sex (AFAB! reader receiving) penetrative sex, missionary/mating press, established relationship of sorts (not together but not not together either…you have a situationship with a hot, rich, talented producer/cult leader Suguru so), he uses the term of endearment “love” once, addresses you without the use of “y/n”
Recommended music while reading: One Of The Girls (The Weeknd, Jennie, Lily Rose Depp), A Lesser Man (The Weeknd), and Double Fantasy (The Weeknd, Future)
Read below cut:
“Ugh,” you groan in frustration, hitting the spacebar on the keyboard in front of you to pause the track. Beside you, Suguru shifts to lean on his knuckles, looking at you curiously.
“Hmm? What’s the matter?”
“It’s not sounding right,” you answer, “Something’s off but I can’t quite place it.”
“Mmm,” he hums, sucking in a breath. “Well, you have been at it like this since after lunch. It’s almost midnight now. You haven’t even eaten yet. Maybe you should take a break.”
“No,” you shake your head, “It’s right there, I just…”
Suguru’s hand slides over yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles. “We talked about you overworking yourself. It isn’t good for you or your creativity.”
You look at him and frown. “Suguru, I know you want me to take better care of myself, but—”
“Your body is your temple,” he interrupts you, pushing his chair closer to yours so that they touch. “Didn’t I teach you that? You need to treat it as if it was sacred. It is sacred. Starving yourself and working off of fumes is only going to drive you to burnout.”
His dark eyes hold yours, and that familiar flutter inside your stomach starts up again—Suguru is a beautiful man, and you thought so the minute you met him at that party for your friend’s album release a few months ago. Right now, under the dim, warm lighting of the studio’s LED lights, he looks just as mesmerizing.
His long, dark hair falls in layered tendrils down his shoulders, beside his gauges, framing his face perfectly, making for the perfect precursor for his gentle eyes, perfectly centered nose, and soft lips. His black shirt lays over his muscular chest unbuttoned at the top to show off his collarbones, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his black slacks, held up by an expensive belt. As always, he just exudes power. It drives a thrill through you that only he is capable of producing.
“Did I lose you in there?” He asks with an amused smile, bringing you back to yourself. You avert your eyes, shaking your head.
“Sorry. Got distracted.”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think I have a way to solve all of your problems.”
You return your gaze to his face just as he moves his touch down to your thigh, bare due to the shorts you elected to wear this morning. His hand is hot, spreading tingles up your spine like he’s firing off every single one of your nerves on purpose.
“What is it?”
“I’ve talked about it before,” he begins, “But creativity comes from the Sacral chakra. You know where it is, right?”
You draw in a breath, starting to realize where he’s going with this. You two have talked about Suguru’s unique beliefs before. He draws from many different religions and philosophies to create what he calls ‘the one true religion’, one he insists would solve all world conflict if everyone just subscribed to it. So far, everything he’s said makes sense to you.
The human body is, as he said, a temple for the soul, a special sort of energy taken from a piece of the Universe so that it can experience itself. There’s a lot of things he’s said, but right now, the important thing is that he believes bodies have energy points where different types of energy can interact with a human and either take away or give to their soul if activated. These energy points are chakra points, taken from Hinduism and Buddhism, the latter being one of Suguru’s favorite philosophies due to how ‘true’ it is.
You remember he said there are seven chakra points. The one for creativity is…
He moves his hand up your thigh slowly, causing you to breathe deeply, palm slinking up your hip to your abdomen just below your navel.
“Right here,” he tells you. “The sacral chakra is the energy point for both creativity and sexual pleasure. Do you know why that is?”
You blink. He had just explained what they are, but not why or how they’re connected. “No. Not exactly.”
“This is where your womb is,” he explains. “You create there, don’t you? If you were to accept someone’s seed, you’d create life. That’s why it’s both.”
You breathe out, starting to feel a little warm. “That…that makes sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” He agrees with a smile. “Now. You’re having trouble figuring out how to create this song, right? What we need to do is stimulate it.”
Ah, you think. That’s his point. You look at him, taking in the relaxed glint of lust in his eyes, and decide to play along. “How do we stimulate the womb?”
“Well, sacral chakra is all things pertaining to sexual pleasure. So if I make you feel good, I’m activating it.”
You nod, biting on the nail of your thumb. “Well…I have no creativity right now. So do your worst.”
A grin spreads across his lips. “My worst? Are you sure?”
Sex with Suguru is always a wild card. You never know what you’re going to get with him. Sometimes he’s sweet and slow, praising you like you’re his personal divine deity, and sometimes he’s railing you within an inch of your life, bent over the nearest surface, filth spilling from his lips.
“Or your best. Whichever you prefer,” you reply, subtly challenging him to take his pick, to chose how to make you fall apart. The control is his to have.
“Mmm,” he smirks. “I like the sound of that.”
Faster than you can comprehend, he’s out of his seat and grabbing you by the hips, hoisting you up and onto the coffee table where your manager and other producers sit during the day, right behind the mixing table.
He has your shorts off in record time, tossed to the floor unimportantly, and his right hand goes right for the apex of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your underwear-clad sensitive center in teasingly gentle strokes.
You feel every time his nail grazes that spot, the pearl he seems to know how to work as if only he was given the manual to it.
“Suguru,” you breathe, leaning up on your elbows to see him. He smiles softly at you, lazy gaze fixed on your face.
“Relax,” He tells you, “Just focus on my touches.”
You listen, letting yourself lay back all the way. You even close your eyes, hearing him shuffle, keeping his hand on you. It only moves when it hooks at the fabric and pushes it out of the way.
Exposed to the air abruptly, you gasp quietly, but that gets replaced by an even louder gasp as a hot, wet tongue slides right over the neediest part of you.
“Suguru,” you exhale, biting your lip as he does it again, hands bracing your hips to keep you still.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, hot breath fanning over your pelvis. “And you taste good, too.”
Your face gets hot. “Don’t stare. It’s embarrassing.”
“Like I said,” he replies, wetly kissing your mound. “Your body is a temple. And I intend to worship it.”
His face is buried in you in the next instance, licking a fat stripe over you before flicking his tongue rapidly, stimulating all of your nerves at once.
“Suguru,” you gasp. “Oh fuck…”
He slurps lewdly, groaning, swirling his tongue in the way he knows drives you insane.
“Suguru,” you mewl again, arching up. He sucks intently, right hand moving down the inside of your thigh to where wetness has been pooling since he started touching you.
When his finger prods at your folds, you flinch, sensitive to the touch, and he becomes more bold, slipping two inside at once.
“Ah,” you moan loudly, pushing your hips down on his hand. His fingers are long and thick inside of you, curling up and fucking at a focused, teasing pace.
“We should record your sounds,” he states, “I’d use them in a track. Hmm…but then I’d get jealous when other people hear them.”
He adds a third finger, wrapping his lips around your pearl and running his tongue up and down, pulling another ragged moan from your throat.
“You’re mine,” He continues in a pant, coming up for air. “All mine. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you reply without hesitation. This man is all you could ever need. No one else could satisfy you like he can.
“Beautiful,” he breathes, rewarding your loyalty by flicking his tongue again, causing you to tighten around him. He fucks his fingers harder, getting excess slick on the table. You grind down, feeling that coil wind tighter and tighter in your core.
When he flattens his tongue and flutters it over your mound at the same time he curls his fingers up, you’re done for, orgasm hitting you in a dizzying wave of pleasure.
“Suguru, Suguru,” you drawl out, hands threading in his hair as he kisses your puffy apex through the bliss. When he lifts his head, his mouth is covered in your essence, and he looks impossibly fucking hot.
“How do you feel?” He asks, “Feeling inspired yet?”
You blink. Inspired? Who the hell knows. You’re horny as hell and you want this gorgeous man to fuck you so hard you see stars, being one be damned.
“I still feel stuck.”
He feigns a pout of sympathy, raising himself up on his knees.
“We can't have that, now can we?” He asks you, and now that he’s kneeling on his knees, you can see his body clearly. Your eyes draw onto the obvious, big bulge under his belt buckle, and heat surges through you. You want that. Now.
“I need more inspiration.”
He grins, standing up and scooping you up into his arms, stepping around the coffee table to lay you out on the leather sofa behind it. He pulls the waistband of your underwear down your legs, letting them fall to the floor.
You then watch as he undoes his belt, hands working at the buckle expertly to unlatch it. He then pulls it open, not bothering to take it off before he undoes his buttons and zipper, pushing his boxers down far enough to let himself spring free.
The sight of his red, hard cock never ceases to fan the flames of your fire for him, no reservations in your heart as he kneels on the cushion, getting between your willingly spread legs.
He smiles down at you and grabs his member, guiding it to rub against your dripping folds.
“Mmh,” you breathe, grinding against him needily.
“This way, I can transfer some of my creativity to you,” He says, “How does that sound?”
Anything to make him enter you.
You nod, reaching up and grabbing his firm biceps through his shirt.
“Please, Suguru,” you say, “Need it.”
And you don’t mean the creativity.
The man above you grins, letting his tip catch on your entrance and pushing in without hesitation.
He sinks in slowly, letting you feel the stretch of his thick girth, the heat of his bare cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” you curse, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“So tight,” he murmurs, pulling back and thrusting back in languidly, doing it again a few times to get you used to him, a dull ache seating inside you at the sensation. The fact that it hurts a little bit makes your heart beat faster, and you angle your hips up, desperate to give him better access.
He huffs an amused laugh, putting more energy into his movements and speeding up.
“Ah,” you gasp, nails digging into his arms. “Yes, Suguru…”
“Does that feel good?” He asks, slightly winded, and you nod, swallowing thickly.
“So good,” is your response, one of your hands running up the expanse of his shoulder to his neck, up to cup his jaw. He leans into the touch, even turning his head to kiss your palm. It causes you to flutter around him, and he groans at the feeling, picking up his pace even more.
You pull your knees back more towards your chest as best as you can without your hands to help, making room for him to go deeper. It causes his tip to push against your cervix, and it pulls a high-pitched gasp from you.
“That’s it,” he pants, leaning down over you, sliding his hands underneath your arms to grip your shoulders, balancing on his elbows to drive harder into you, hitting that spot every single time he pushes in. “Oh, fuck yes…”
It’s breathy, and the knowledge that you are the one making him lose his composure heightens your euphoria. You look up into his eyes, which are only a few inches from yours now.
He gives you a loose smile. “Getting inspiration?”
You laugh despite yourself. “Yeah…fuck yeah I am…”
“Good,” he grins, “Never hurts to give more, does it?”
You wonder what he means for a mere moment before he stops thrusting for a moment to hike your legs up, hooking your knees on his shoulders and then leaning back down to grab your waist, effectively bending you in half.
“Shit,” you hiss, eyes widening when he starts a grueling pace up. “Suguru!”
“Fuck,” he curses, the slap of your wet skin meeting over and over again bouncing off the sound-treated walls along with your mixed pants to make a song only the two of you can create together.
His dark hair hangs down over your face, hot breaths hitting your skin rhythmically, and he lowers himself fully to kiss you, tongue sliding into your mouth to claim you in yet another way. Your eyes shut to enjoy the sensation of two parts of him inside you, kissing back greedily, fisting your hands in his hair.
He groans lowly when you pull, knowing he likes it, putting more vigor into the way he kisses you, almost like he’s trying to devour your soul.
His hips keep slamming against yours, walls sore with the exertion of having been pushed to the limits. He’s relentless and you think about how you’ll feel him there even tomorrow, and what a welcome thought that is.
You pull harder on his hair and he responds by biting your bottom lip, feeding you a winded groan. The primal scent of your kiss buzzes around in your senses, melding with his heady jasmine cologne, concocting your own personal brand of heroin. You feel him everywhere, and the weight of his firm body covering yours is something you could never recreate without him.
You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t notice his thrusts starting to turn erratic until he breaks the kiss to gasp for air.
“You feel so good,” he pants, “Now I’m inspired.”
That does something to you. This man, who is always at the top of the charts, collaborating with A-list artist after A-list artist is inspired by you, by the sex that you’re giving him. It inflates your ego to a staggering point and you brush his bangs from his eyes, looking deeply into them. A warm feeling spreads through your chest, that familiar danger zone when you’re around Suguru for too long coming into sight once again.
You know he’s off-limits. Between balancing the group he’s leading and his full-time job as a producer, he’s busier than any other man you know, and you aren’t naive enough to delude yourself into thinking he reserves himself solely for you.
He’s a gorgeous man. He’s talented, charismatic, and as a result he has people worshiping the ground he walks on. He can have anyone and everyone he wants, and as a man as powerful as he is, who would he be not to indulge himself? He’s a god among men, and you’ve resigned yourself to being one of his earthly concubines with the self-assurance that you’re among his favorites.
He spends a majority of his free time with you, and when he’s busy he calls when he can. He texts you to ask how you are, makes sure that you stay out of trouble, and he protects you from slimy industry heads ready to take advantage of you. You go to his penthouse so much you’ve started leaving clothes and belongings there, but you know he could switch up at any moment, so you refuse to acknowledge what is trying to burrow its way into your heart when you look at him.
Except, when he smiles so charmingly at you like he is, pupils blown and lips kissed swollen, it’s so hard not to fall for him.
His eyes slide shut and his brows furrow, sucking his lip between his teeth as he concentrates his thrusts to hit that one spot inside of you that has you seeing the cosmos.
“Ah!” You cry, “Suguru, Suguru…”
The pleasure undulates up your body like electric currents, making you over-sensitive. You can feel his big hands holding your waist so tightly you know it’ll bruise, yet another future reminder he was on top of you.
“That’s it,” he praises, “Come on, I know you’re close, love.”
Love.
Your eyes snap open again and he’s back to watching your face with a gentle expression. You want to say something but find your words robbed, an intensifying heat building and building deep at your center.
“Suguru,” you gasp, hands grappling at his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh there for purchase. It won’t stop, your climax approaching faster and faster, and he doubles down on his thrusts, aiming his cock so precisely you think for a moment you might die of pleasure. “Suguru…”
“You’re right there,” he urges, warm baritones lighting you up from the inside, “Come on, come on, show me how good it is…”
It hits you more abruptly than you’re prepared for. Your entire body tenses up and you throw your head back, arching up as you shout his name desperately, “Suguru! Oh my god, Suguru, Suguru…”
You tighten on him and gush around his length, the sensations faltering his pace, and he moans loudly above you, hips stuttering. Then you feel it. A ticklish, warm sensation inside of you, his release spilling right against your cervix as he presses as far as he can go.
“Fuck,” he groans brokenly, rolling his hips languid against yours, burying his nose in your neck and leaving sloppy kisses there. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close, relishing in the sensation of him in and all around you. He’s never finished inside you before—you’ve always had protection. Blearily, you wonder what it means that he has, but you don’t want to bring it up right now. It would just break through the veil of bliss you’re in, and you don’t want to leave it yet.
The two of you stay locked like that until the stiffness of your muscles starts making itself known, and he pushes himself off of you, pulling out carefully. You wince in sensitivity, and he rubs your thigh soothingly. His eyes fix on your entrance, thoroughly used and dripping with your mixed releases.
“Shit,” he breathes, “You look good like this…”
You feel your face heat up, legs closing now that he’s not between them anymore. “We need to clean up.”
He laughs softly, leaning over and grabbing some tissues from the coffee table.
“You’re right. I’ll get to it.”
He painstakingly takes care of you first, wiping up all of the fluids you two exchanged from your body and then the leather couch before taking care of himself, tossing the tissues into the trash can by the door. He bends down and grabs the underwear you had on from the floor, fixing them in his hold to slide you back into them.
“How do you feel?” He asks, sitting beside you as you slowly get to a seated position.
“Thoroughly fucked,” you reply bluntly, and he laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap. You curl into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. “But also…very inspired.”
“Yeah?” He asks, rubbing the outside of your leg gently. “Good.”
You want to stay in his arms for the rest of the night, but you are in the studio to work. So, you summon the willpower to get off of the couch, moving to go back to the desk when he pulls you back down.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, a playful lilt to his voice.
“To work,” you answer, heart racing as he smiles at you.
“So soon? Let me hold you for a little while.”
You want to ask what it means that he wants to do that with you, but a larger, more prominent part of you wins out, and you don’t say a thing. Like this, you can imagine it means what you want it to, even if it doesn’t.
You settle back in his arms, burying your face into his neck and closing your eyes, content to let him cradle you in his big arms. His scent wraps around you like a blanket, and your heart settles down as you relax.
He presses a kiss to your hair, and you decide that as long as you get to keep having this with him, whatever it is, you are content.
_ _ _
a/n: what's funny is that Suguru isn't even my main jjk guy, I just had a demon come over me and wrote this out.
edit: after I re-read i think i’m gonna make this a series bc i can see drama going down and i want to write it 😈
please do not repost or copy my work, but feel free to reblog and share. hope you enjoyed!
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