#i will now type out the lyrics bc i can

[lovexmemonster]

quick iruma doodle! 💐

[firstofficerkittycat]

the way when i was 13 rings of akhaten destroyed me mentally (derogatory) and then i rewatched it to make that edit expecting to feel the same way and am now coming back to That Scene like 8 times a day and it is destroying me mentally (affectionate)

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[rxttingawayy]

if one more unexpected thing happens today im going to lose my fucking MIND

[roseband]

...

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[whorefordean]

Can you write some Dean Winchester head canons, preferably smutty ones if you’re up to it ☺️

for how often i think about being absolutely annihilated by this man, this took entirely too long to write. my apologies.

anywho... these are all actually factual because i say so!

p.s i apologize for this being so short :/

18+ mdni below the cut

- i stand by the fact that if you don't go on a hunt with dean, this man is sending dick pics or constantly asking you for nudes. usually, you send them just because it's fun, but sometimes you like to tease dean about it.

"but sweetheart, there's no telling how long this case is gonna take," he'll whine over the phone when sam leaves the room for a few hours to go interview a witness or something.

"dean, it's been less than twenty-four hours. i think you'll survive."

"what if i die from blue balls?"

"goodbye, dean."

"wait-" click. dean pouts when you end the call. it doesn't last long though because his phone chimes a few minutes later with a photo from you, followed by a text. "don't die on me."

he one thousand percent sends you a picture a few minutes later of his cum covered hand and cock.

————

-maybe i'm projecting but i think dean gets into the habit of waking you up in the middle of the night because he wakes up horny, like he has a wet dream about you, and bless his heart, he tries so hard to not wake you up. so he starts listing monsters in his head, and analyzes the lyrics to his favorite song. man even tries counting sheep just to distract himself.

but it's no use. so instead, dean starts rubbing your arm softly, cooing your name in an effort to wake you up. you might stir a little, just to get closer to him, but dean hisses when you toss your leg over his waist, brushing against his dick.

he's gripping your thigh tight and then he's biting down lightly on your shoulder, pulling you from your sleep. he almost feels bad for waking you up when you pout at him, but you shift against his cock again, making him groan as all his empathy is flying out the window.

"what's wrong, dean?" you're asking innocently while sitting up, still not having noticed his situation.

"fuck, sweetheart," he grunts in your ear. you look so confused but so pretty as dean stares up at you. before you can breathe he's shoving his lips onto yours and pulling you to sit on his lap. you moan when you feel his cock rubbing against your clothed pussy.

"fuck, dean, again?" you question, choking on a moan. it's the third time this week that he's woken you up like this.

"it's a wasted dream if it's not about me being buried deep inside you," he smirks proudly.

————

- dean finds out that you like listening to audio porn (in badjhur we trust) so he records some for you. finds out what your favorite tags are somehow and incorporates those into it. (the tongue clicks 🫣)

- dean is so used to slapping your ass at home that he will do it constantly in public. he doesn’t even smirk about it like he does at home. just stares at you with wide im sorry eyes while you glare at him with that so help me god look.

- dean is a munch. will spend all day buried between your thighs just because he can. you’re begging him to stop. whining bc it’s too much and he’s just all heavy breathing as he stares up at you. sweetheart please, i missed you. he’ll give the same excuse every time, even though he’s only been gone for maybe an hour to do a beer run.

- dean is soooo into face sitting. he’s definitely the type that will force you to actually sit because he does take personal offense if you hover.

- he's so into free use. you can't tell me different. getting to use and play with his sweetheart whenever he wants? say less.

- also he loves to cum inside you and make you cockwarm him after so none of it leaks out

-oh my god. he burns you a cd called "sexy time with my sweetheart." and now he refuses to listen to any of the songs on it outside of the bedroom because he's conditioned to get hard when he hears them.

[chailovesu]

Random things u can add to your script if you are manifesting being famous

i think ima separate this into careers

model:

being on the cover of magazines

always knowing when a camera is on you + never have awkward pictures get popular

being considered one of the best new gen models and one of the best of all time

being signed to desired company

being the muse of a very famous designer

very photogenic/videogenic

have an iconic walk that everyone loves

you could be wearing something absolutely hideous but make it look good

singer/rapper:

every single song u make blows up on every platform

kind of rapper/singer that once u feature on a song its ur song now

if u cover a song the cover gets more famous bc it sounds better

popular dance trend being made to your songs

immunity to getting sued for copying a song

perfect stage presence

be able to dance and sing/rap at the same time

constantly be nominated for awards and win

any song u make constantly goes platinum and charts for months

having a song featured in a popular tv show/movie

be good at taking selcas and they always go viral on pinterest

easily hit high notes

unreleased music never gets leaked

being talented on a beyonce level

be invited to perform at places like the superbowl and coachella

be able to write ur own songs with unique lyrics

game streamer:

clips of u playing always go viral

have a connection with your subscribers + be everyones comfort streamer but not in a forced way

be really good at the games u play effortlessly and look good while playing

having merch that always get sold out

being seen as the main streamer for desired games

be entertaining to watch + funny things always happen on stream

subscribers always donate alot of money and give you gifts

collab with other famous streamers + everyone enjoys playing with you

have access to unreleased games early

have partnerships with really big brands

be gifted free games often by companies for promotions

people know u by face AND voice

if u wanna be a faceless streamer at first your face reveal blows up (in a good way not the dream way) and ur subscribers double bc of it

actor/actress:

being fancasted for your favorite cartoon character so much that u act in the live action version of it

always get paid a lot for your roles

have chemistry with your co-workers

be good at all type of acting (voice acting too)

easily attract roles

never get hate for the roles u act

always get awards for your acting

easily be able to do things like cry on command + be able to make your audience feel the emotion through the screen

be a very versatile actor like your range is crazy

applies to all:

seeing edits of yourself by talented editors often

pristine reputation + never being canceled

being that one celebrity that everyone defends like their life depends on it

Immunity to weird ppl finding out abt u

being likable in general any hate you receive just feels so forced

being alot of celebrities ideal type

being everyones celebrity crush

never having your xxxx exposed (or revise never taking any)

eye contact with u makes interviewers nervous like that one jhene aiko clip

people from your past only have good things to say + other celebrities love meeting you and only have good impressions of you

this one applies to acting and singing and modeling but being a highly sought-after person in that field

a fortnite skin? or being featured in your favorite game

still being safe going in public alone + fans respect your privacy

and if ur manifesting being a nepo baby

everyone supports you

in your childhood u were featured in alot of movies/shows (or just in the spotlight often) so people feel like they watched you grow up and adore u

being more famous than your parents + people feel like even if ur parents weren't famous u still would've gotten famous

having famous childhood friends

if i think of more ideas or careers ill make a pt2 but thats probably unlikely idk yet

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

[writingstoraes]

lover 🪻

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!singer!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this is another thing i thought of knowing i have hundreds of unattended drafts lolol lmk what u think! this is like very similar to something i've posted before but only w a slightly different ending... hehe also am using mother taylor's lyrics cause they're just too good

about: you and charles seem to be really quiet, it's either one of two things — you're over or you're about to release a masterpiece that shatters all break up rumors.

wagsoff1

liked by wannabewag, norrisfan, hamilec, and 25,439 others

wagsoff1 It has been 100 days since Y/N was seen in the paddock. Her last appearance was during the 2023 Australian GP. Any thoughts? 👀

leclercsainz yeah honestly the two of them have been really quiet lately... i'm scared

ynfan this is such a reach? 😬

lecsyn4eva are we forgetting that y/n has her own career, a pretty successful one at that, it's normal for her to not be at races at times?

wagsoff1 Hmm yeah but she's missed a ton of races, apparently rumors are only ever growing that they might be over... lecsyn4eva maybe we stop sticking our noses where it doesn't belong 🤨

queenyn MOTHER WE MISS YOU pls come back

sainzstappen Classic pattern of broken up F1 couples lol miss a few races then suddenly statements are out 😆

popgirlstm stop i will literally jump off a bridge

yourusername

liked by zendaya, florencepugh, landonorris, and 2,340,923 others

yourusername At every table, I'll save you a seat.

My 3rd full-length album, Lover, is out tomorrow at 12 EST. Sorry for the surprise but see you at the premiere ❤️

lecsyn BITCH THIS IS WHY YOUVE BEEN QUIET

mothertay miss mam we havent heard from you in months how can you drop a bomb like this so casually

norrislaren IM CRYING I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING

midnightshouse y/n i need to know if i can shake my ass to this album or i will be destroying ice cream pints with tears on my face

ynalbums Judging from the title... it sounds like it's more on the romance side? gucciluv oh my god there's hope for charles and her after all 🙏

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 1,295,294 others

charles_leclerc My lover.

Beyond excited for your album, amour. Thanks for letting me be a part of it 🤍

lecsyncharles CROWD CHEERS OH MY GOD

hamilstappen im crying they broke the streak they're alive! WAR IS OVER

charlierari part of it... y/n ft. charles????

carlossainz55 Hey this counts as your musical debut? 😆

charles_leclerc I didn't sing... carlossainz55 Yeah you shouldnt c2lovers FUCK??ABSHBHWWH

landonorris Can't believe people thought you broke up you literally won't shut up about how you're in Silverstone and she's in LA

pierregasly Don't forget the calling Y/N every 10 seconds charles_leclerc ??? Please shut up

Now Playing: Lover (Music Video) - The Dedication

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, lorenzotl, and 2,109,294 others

charles_leclerc My forever lover.

tagged: yourusername

landonorris Will you save me a seat at every table?

yourusername Have my song memorized already, I see 😆 landonorris You know it!

lewishamilton Congratulations, Y/N and Charles! 🥂

danielricciardo I call taking most of the pictures 🙏

landonorris No???

ynlecs16 this is such a fucking surprise the two of you need to cool it down i'm hyperventilating

scuderiaferrari Best wishes to our favorite couple ❤️

yourusername Wait, I thought we broke up?

charles_leclerc Negative. You're stuck with me forever now 😘

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: taylor has got me wishing i was currently in love this is sick! anyway i only got this idea bc my tiktok fyp is swarmed with charles daylight edits and they are right he is so golden <33

[sugawhaaa]

HII CAN WE GET SOME KIND OF SUGGESTIVE JONGSEOB THOUGHTS CUZ IM OBSESSED WITH HIM . THANK YOUU :3

🎀JONGSEOB AS UR BOYFRIEND 🎀

{{Suggestive ver}}

Warnings:: suggestive

Pairing:: Bf!jongseob x fem!bodied!reader

A/N:: okay so 😵‍💫 this request has been in my inbox for way too damn long and I apologize 😭 I started writing so many different Jongseob things but I decided today's the day.

So many picture Jongseob to be a cute little baby 🥺👉👈 but HAH ur wrong. Have u seen any clips of dirty-minded piwon? Jongseob always be the one to point it out istg 💀 can't blame him bc he grew up surrounded by pretty kpop women but ANYWAY

He's still a little new to real intimate things but he definitely has his dirty side

I feel like Jongseob would often get into this state every once and a while where he's just so horny to the point he can't even look at you without getting hard

Your hands are his weakness. Touch him literally anywhere slightly suggestive and he's folding like laundry

He has this odd fascination of seeing you wet. When you get out of the shower with just a towel separating your body from his eyes, when you go to the pool and you get out all dripping wet with sticky hair god he gets so flustered

Idk why but I feel like he's got a thing for cleavage too, his eyes just naturally fluttering down every now and then before looking back into your eyes

His drunk thoughts aren't for the faint of heart 😭 he'll pour his soul out to you

He'd be really ashamed about this but he'd totally masturbate to the thought of you or even photos of you

He's so bad at cleaning up after himself when it comes to masturbating mainly because he won't plan beforehand. He'll fuck your pillow but when he's done he realizes it's covered in stains.

Sometimes though, he doesn't really mind if you find his mess. He knows that you definitely know he masturbates to you very frequently and it kinda turns him on to know that you witness the aftermath of his pleasure

He gets super flushed really quickly. Whisper a little something in his ear and his cheeks are red

He'd be shy to show you his body at first, just shirtless or in boxers. He'd quickly throw something on but once he realizes you couldn't care less he starts to worry less

On the flipside when you walk around in just your bra he loses his mind. Like I said earlier he has this weird little thing for cleavage.

His a pervy little teenage boy so ofc he watches porn and ofc he's bad at hiding it too. Sometimes he'll forget to close the tabs or clear his search and you'll stumble upon some of his favorite videos~

Sometimes he'd write little songs to the thought of you, both dirty and not. The dirty lyrics go all out though and after witnessing what he's written he wants to hide away from himself.

The members would sometimes find his song lyrics and sometimes show you too. Sure it might be a little invasive but he was writing about you after all.

Once getting comfortable with you he'd love to randomly grope you. Nothing too inappropriate ofc but if you were home alone he might bring his hand around and give your butt a firm squeeze, blessed to feel such a specimen

Ofc his love for boobs falls into the too but he'd be much more gentle. He knows your breasts a more sensitive than your ass so he's very cautious.

Make out sessions with him go hard. He looks like the type to not know what he's doing but hoo boy are you wrong

He loves to bite your neck too URGH he'd love it so much. Brushing back your hair to expose your neck before licking all over to soften the skin before sinking his teeth in

This isn't very suggestive but he'd love to do your hair, running his fingers through your soft locks. Though sometimes his mind may travel, imagining it wrapped in his fist

He loves to trickle his hands up your shirt. He wouldn't have a goal, not trying to grope you or anything but just grazing his fingers over your skin purely because he can

For some reason the sight of your bras around your room kinda turn him on. He would try to ignore it, knowing it was normal to have clothing around but man he just feels all warm and tingly inside

And for the final h/c this man loves it when you sit in his lap for SO many reasons.

You and all the members were hanging out one Friday night like any other. Your boyfriend, soul, and Jiung were out in the living room while the other three were with you in the kitchen. Throughout the night a few drinks had been passed around and after getting what you had said was your last, you went out to the living room to your boyfriend. He smiled when he saw you, just like he always does. You come over to him before sitting down on his lap.

His eyes widen in surprise but he quickly recovers. He sets his can of alcohol on the table next to the couch before wrapping his arms around you. "Hey baby, what's up," he smirks before leaning back, pulling you with him. As you lean back he feels your ass rub down his length. He bites his lip hard as he squints his eyes slightly. The pressure of your body weight was a little painful but the friction was ethereal.

"Just wanted to cuddle my love~" you hum in response before taking a sip of wine. "What are you guys watching?" You ask before turning your head to look at him. You then notice the state you've got him in. His jaw clenched and his eyebrows curled. You chuckle softly.

"I dunno, some anime that I just hopped into," he shrugs and you can't hold back your smile.

"I see," you hum thoughtfully before wiggling around on his lap. You feel his body tense and it takes everything in him not to moan in your ear. He then leans up to your ear, his hands traveling up your body, resting on your breasts.

"Are you this needy for attention?" He says in a mocking voice. "You know, good girls use their words," he whispers in a low voice.

[kuroppiii]

  apple bottom jeans ᵕ̈       timeskip!hq men ( atsumu , shōyō ,       oikawa , ushijima ) that i think can       actually dance at the club ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : and i DON ' T mean just ⋮⋮  two-stepping to the music blasting, ⋮⋮  jesus christ no!!!

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ( ? )     ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛     ♡ # 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 - 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱     ♡ # ~500 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴     ♡ # 𝙘𝙬 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 ! ( 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨     𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 ) + 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

🎶 on shuffle " dare " - gorillaz

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ thought of this while listening to gorillaz 💪 someone take me out partying pleaseee i need to dance and sweat and get buzzed again !! ”

︴miya atsumu ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

big frat guy energy but unfortunately he gets away with it because they way he looks at you, drink in hand, as he's bumpin to the beat is HOTTTT

like guys... c'mon now

with the top buttons of his shirt undone and like a chain on yes pls

the type to look straight into your eyes as you two sing along to songs line for line, BAR! for BAR!!!

lots of action with the arms and elbows from him (yeah frat energy i fear)

hand on your ass as you two vibe to the music, definitely, no question

he'd be hyping you up too with like one of those stupid cartoonish-ass whistles AHHHH THE DEMONS ARE MAKING ME TYPE THIS

also he can get into it without even drinking like just let this man dance!!! (but ofc he has a few shots it's a fucking party lmao)

beige flag: he will jump up and down to some carti or kanye or some shit and he will look a bit corny if you really squint

︴hinata shōyō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

A LITTLE MUCH AT TIMES like babes this is not magic mike chill with the body rolling bud

but also the redheads got some good moves, good for him!

it's all in the shoulders 🫡

like think that timothee chalemet edit that went viral during quarantine (💀💀💀)

likes to spin you around and really dance with you y'know

holding ur hands the whole time aw

just wants to make sure yall are having a good time

watch out for when those latin songs come on tho because this boy will go HAMMM

shoyo my brazillian king x bad bunny? YUPPPP

p.s. he would def end up crowd surfing somehow

︴oikawa tōru ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

one that sways along with you from behind so that randos can't sneak up on you (romance is so back!!)

hands always on your waist, holding you close

talks to you by bending down and mumbling into your ear barkbarkwoofbarkwoofwoof

like a chiller 'tsumu bc i don't think he's really the type to be belting lyrics with you like that but he's definitely feeling himself LORD

don't be scared, shake some ass on him, he don't mind 🤷‍♀️

if he ends up in front of you, gets really close to you, like all up in your personal space, still dancing ofc

but he can't help his eyes RAKING you up and down when you two are like that heart eyes

if a nikki minaj song comes own he definitely knows all the lyrics OOPS WHO SAID THAT NOT ME

︴ushijima wakatoshi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

HEAR ME OUT

he needs a few drinks to get there BUT!!! he can get a little loose you feel me?

it's starts out gradual, bc completely sober he's definitely a two-stepper booooo

but as the alcohol kicks in, and they especially play the more fun and carefree songs not so much the tiktok thirst trap type tracks lol–he starts opening up more!

and its kinda cute like his skillset is kinda limited to dance moves straight out of a coming of age film dance montage

lowkey the toby maguire dance from spiderman 3 is gonna make an appearance (ushi secret geek agenda but that's my ted talk for another day)

i can see him getting turnt to some chappell roan (him doing the hot to go! dance 😭)

but but but the BEST part's when he's fighting back a smile as he's dancing, you two feeling like you're the only ones on the dance floor together

or your arms up and around his neck and his hands on your hips, him not being able to keep his eyes off you, feeling the bass hitting in your chests... yeahhhh

       ⇩  ⇩  ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::

︴nishinoya yū + tanaka ryūnosuke ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

i HAVE to put them together in an honorable mention because you bet if one of them is dancing, the other is holding their phone flashlight up, shining it all on the other

they both pull up in shades even if the club is inside 💀💀💀

dance circle? THEY'RE GETTING STURDY IN THERE

THEY'RE DOING THE WORM

GETTIN DOWN LOWWWW

maybe even hitting the gritty? who knows? ironically ofc (not)

like yeah they obviously can dance well with someone each on their own

but the amount of money i'd pay to go clubbing with the both of them? embarrassingly large amount i'm willing to give up

trulyyy life of the party when they're both on the dancefloor together

[sunflowerkiwis]

heyy wife i was wondering if you could do a smau of charles leclerc x southern reader. like gorgeous, blonde, uf or fsu student, sports broadcasting major, sorority girl, but she has like a claire monroe or sadie crowell type of vibe. she's a freshman and she takes him to a game, frat parties, and waffle house (waffle house is very important). they get a lot of hate, because the pairing is so unexpected and the age gap. but then he like posts her to lyrics from southern girls by tim mcgraw

Southern Girl

charles leclerc x reader requested - i hope this is what you wanted love feedback is appreaciated + requests are open! enjoy xx

yourusername

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yourusername it's game day, say it with me

tagged: charles_leclerc, fsufootball, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, yourfriend3

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yourfriend2 looking gorgeous😍

charles_leclerc ❤💛

user01 charles, honey... user03 what?? user01 don't you think their relationship's kinda weid?? i mean she IS nineteen user05 hey, university of stfu called, they're asking for you. i think it's none of our business

logansargeant go semicircles, or whatever

yourusername seminoles😐

yourfriend1 you did awesome!!

yourusername thanks babeee

user07 she's so pretty 😭

user09 if i were charles, i too would not gaf about the world and date her

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, and 1,032,146 others

charles_leclerc the beaches are nice, but you're better❤⛱

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername i love you charlie <3

charles_leclerc je t'aime ma cheri user11 they way you can tell they're genuinely happy, i don't understand why they get so much hate just living their lives :')

logansargeant yeah, yeah, you're in love, we get it🙄

yourusername you're just bitter bc nobody wants u logansargeant i most absolutely am not yourusername someone's jealousss logansargeant of you? never. user21 IN MY BOOK YN AND LOGAN ARE BEST FRIENDS AND YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME

liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourfriend2, and 598,435 others

yourusername and now we party

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pierregasly oh god, please bring him back alive

landonorris or just... y'know, don't bring him back at all yourusername pierre, your boyfriend will be fine pierregasly just making sure

yourfriend3 he picked her up and we never saw her again... legend has it they're still taking pictures in the kitchen

liked by yourusername

yourusername 💀💀

user27 something about this still doesn't sit right with me...

user39 right? it was just so sudden and unusual. still love them tho user19 she's so young though user71 omg look at that, nobody asked

charles_leclerc that pizza looks amazing

user13 sure charles... the pizza...

logansargeant wowww hanging out without me. i see how it is.

user25 top ten betrayals in f1 history logansargeant right???

logansargeant added to their story!

caption: get a room🤢

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yourusername you're unbearable <3 logansargeant you two are disgusting <3 yourusername deal with it <3

yourusername added to their story!

caption: many many hours later...

yourusername

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yourusername baby's sixty-first waffle house trip 🤧🥹

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yourusername yes, logan, we got you some

logansargeant oh you're gonna make me cry logansargeant best best friend i could ask for

charles_leclerc and it was just like all the other sixty times

yourusername amazing? charles_leclerc sure logansargeant "sure"???? dump him. yourusername charles? 🤨 charles_leclerc it was great love logansargeant hm, he's ok ig🙄

yourfriend1 some things will never change 😂

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logansargeant

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 309,856 others

logansargeant she brought me waffles!

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yourusername sir, who gave you permission to post that

pierregasly looking great, yn

yourusername shut up, gasoline

user17 if your best friend doesn't get you food even though she was out with her boyfriend buying food for themselves and you're piggybacking off their relationship bc they're your parents, is she even your best friend?

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logansargeant a true friend yourusername always

yourusername

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yourusername my pretty boy ❤

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user61 they're so cute😭

charles_leclerc mon amour❤

yourusername ❤❤

user01 she's too young for him

user87 right? it's so weird user93 literally go away. it's their relationship not yours. stfu.

logansargeant ew

logansargeant no

logansargeant delete this immeadiately

logansargeant i have to go bleach my eyes

yourusername omg you're such a drama queen user77 i'm sorry but thE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER???? user55 my mans is whipped

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charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc kisses sweeter than tupelo honey... southern girl rock my world, hazel eyes and golden curls. ❤.

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[lcvesjj]

Bad Omens - Deacon Kay x Fem!Reader

Based on the song “Bad Omens” by 5SOS

This is part of my ‘song fics’ series :)

Summary : You'd always come in second place to Annie. Maybe you were right. This relationship was a mistake and you should've listened to the warnings. Since he'll always love somebody else..

Warnings : angst, angst, angst & once again angst. no happy ending, breakups, (Deacon gets back w Annie), in this fic Annie & Deacon don't have kids !!!, heart break, talks/mentions of cheating?

NOT BETA READ!

A/n : the fanfic writer curse has really been kicking my ass recently :’) so I wasn’t posting any fics for a while bc of it. But anyways enjoy and as always this is just based on my interpretation of the song/lyrics :) (yes I am incapable of writing a happy ending currently🥲) I might rewrite this someday since I'm not 100% happy with how this has turned out.

word count : 672

song fic masterlist

regular masterlist

Honestly you should've seen it coming. You always knew you'd come second place to Annie. Deacon's high school sweetheart and “one true love”

Deacon always talked about her a lot since they were still good “friends” Even his coworkers would talk about her a lot. You knew you could never compare to Annie, since she was prettier and smarter and just- more Deacon’s type….

You tried your best to get along with Deacon’s friends, since you loved him so much and you wanted this relationship to work out. 

One day you decided to visit Deacon at the SWAT HQ and bring the team some cookies. Walking towards the HQ kitchen you overheard Deacon talking about you. Pausing you stood still listening in to what was being said. 

“I mean I love Y/n but- she's just not Annie yknow? Annie was always so happy and sweet while I feel like recently Y/n has been pulling away from me. What if she's cheating on me?” Deacon said aloud. He had no idea you heard him. You could feel like crying and your heart dropped to your stomach hearing his words. The man you loved so deeply just accused you of cheating on him.

Quickly turning on your heel you rushed out of HQ still holding the plate with cookies you brought. Getting into your car you drove away towards a nearby beach to sit and think.

You always felt like you were in second place in David's life, but hearing him accuse you of cheating just made you feel even worse. Maybe agreeing to this relationship knowing how much he still liked Annie was a mistake...

Deciding to pull out your phone you sent him a quick text saying “We need to talk. It's important.” Before putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and driving home. 

Deacon was already waiting at home for you with a worried look on his face and upon seeing you he started asking a million questions as to where you were. 

“I think we should break up.”

You interrupted him, Deacon's face fell and he looked hurt and confused. “But I thought-” You just shook your head no. “This isn't working. I'll never be first place for you. It'll always be Annie since she's your first and only true love. I overheard what you said at the station and I just can't keep doing this. I can't keep on feeling like I'm less important to you.” You said while wiping away a few tears. 

“Y/n sweetheart….that's not true. I love you and you're my number one girl. Annie is just a friend to me. I've known her for so long it wouldn't make sense for me to just cut her off suddenly.” Deacon said while frowning. 

“I'm done. I'm sorry Deac, I'll go pack my things now. I'll come grab the rest of my stuff tomorrow.” You said while heading further into the house and towards your shared bedroom before grabbing a bag and packing some essentials while Deacon just watched with pure heartbreak and anguish written all over his face. “But we can still be friends right?” He asked nervously to which you shook your head. 

“I think it's for the best if for now we don't contact or see each other for some time.” You replied while zipping up your bag. “I'm sorry David.” You said softly while kissing his cheek one last time before heading out of the door. 

It wasn't fair to either you or Deacon. You knew he always loved Annie more. I mean she's perfect…

-

A few weeks later Deacon and Annie started to date again and seeing their new photos on the social media platforms you were still following Deacon on, you felt like crying. You always knew it would probably end up like this. You'd get your heart broken and Deacon would end up with Annie. But at least you broke the cycle of constantly getting your heart broken every time Deacon sang praises about Annie right…?

[vax-merstappen]

F1 boys as reputation songs

bc rep is my favorite era 🖤

Lando Norris

So It Goes:

Lando is absolutely the kind of guy who can “make everyone disappear” and mesmerize someone. He also screams “I’m not a bad girl but I do bad things with you” energy. He absolutely could make me cave and do literally anything and maybe that says more about me than him but 🤷. Also I think he is definitely a bit rough when it comes to love and “scratches down your back” would really fit with him.

Oscar Piastri

New Year’s Day:

He is so soft and sweet and the type that would definitely feel sentimental towards his girlfriend. He is absolutely the type of guy who would want to spend time with someone even if it was just cleaning up a party after new year’s. One of the sweetest guys on the grid absolutely fits the sweetest song on reputation. I adore imagining soft moments with Oscar and this song just fits that so well.

Max Verstappen

End Game:

Max gives big end game energy. He currently has the biggest reputation on the grid to uphold and a lot of haters, which resonates a lot with this song. I feel like people are also always trying to make drama about Max, which fits the line “I swear I don’t love the drama, it loves me.” I think he is just such a first-string, A-team driver on the grid that end game just has to go to him, at least as of right now.

Charles Leclerc

Gorgeous:

Like look at this man. He is stunning. Also “ocean blue eyes, lookin in mine.” He also screams boyfriend I can’t have energy and I think that he just fits this song so perfectly. Can absolutely imagine staring at this man and longing for this pretty boy. He is gorgeous and I question anyone who says otherwise.

Carlos Sainz

Don’t Blame Me:

He would be such a passionate lover that would inspire lyrics like “I get so high every time you’re loving me.” He is the diver that I can see driving someone crazy with love. I also believe he would fall from grace just for his lover. He would be fully committed to a partner and would stay with them for “the rest of my life.” Maybe it’s the ferrari red that makes me think of him as such a deep and passionate lover, but I really think he fits this song so well.

Lewis Hamilton

Call It What You Want:

Absolutely think this song belongs to Lewis. I feel like any girlfriend of his would be a priority in his life and he would make her feel so special, à la “loves me like I’m brand new.” I also feel like he absolutely is a chill guy who is “high above the whole scene.” Lewis is the type of guy who wouldn’t want to strictly define his relationships and would want to simply focus on making his partner happy. Also me personally I think he has “starry eyes.”

Daniel Ricciardo

Dress:

He gives off major best friend who you’ve been pining for energy. I can imagine him looking at you in a brand new dress and noticing how he really feels for you for the first time. Also his positive energy really fits the lyric “even in my worst times, you could see the best in me.” The golden tattoo line fits with his tattoos as well and I can imagine getting matching tattoos with Daniel. He would be willing to take off your pretty dress you bought.

Yuki Tsunoda

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Yuki seems like the most devoted boyfriend who would do everything he could to prevent the world from splitting you up like the line “you said there was nothing in the world that could stop it.” Yuki would also be the type of guy who would tune the world out for his girlfriend, like “can we dance through an avalanche.” If you wanted to keep dancing through an avalanche, Yuki would be right there with you. He would never want to leave your side.

Alex Albon

Delicate:

He is totally the kind of sweet guy who would not care about his girl’s reputation and would love her for herself. I can picture making a late night confession to him and him just pulling you close and letting you know that everything will be okay. I could also completely imagine looking into his eyes to “pretend you’re mine all the damn time.” Just the sweetest guy who would hear you out if you needed him to listen.

Logan Sargeant

King of My Heart:

Ok so this one might be a bit of stretch to some, but to me it just seems right. Logan is absolutely the driver I can imagine “drinking beer out of plastic cups” on a roof with. I also think the American Queen line fits perfectly because Logan is such an American king on the grid. With the “never took me quite where you do” line, Logan definitely is the guy to know a spot and take his girl there and make the place their own special meeting place.

[azullumi]

“are we…” ; kazuha, ayato, alhaitham, & tartaglia

details — here on another agenda of listening to songs, reading the lyrics, realizes how it would sound so good on a fic, and boom! slapping it on a character i think would suit it; basically, songs and tropes as some genshin men

characters — alhaitham, ayato, kazuha, tartaglia (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — a sprinkle of angst, some of them are out of character, nothing happy is going on (my life relates to it) ; headcanons/scenario

words — 1558

note — getting back to writing so sorry if this fic seems shitty, i’m trying to get my style back by reading the fics i wrote. also i’ll be mostly writing in lowercase now bcs i’m typing on my phone

waiting ; unrequited love — kazuha (bags by clairo)

“can you see me? i’m waiting for the right time.”

kazuha settles on a boundary between you two, standing close behind it, afraid to take a step and cross. and though he was a man who had no fears and wouldn’t let anything hold him back from attaining what he wants, he was scared of going past the boundary as if he would be treading the path of misery once he chooses to do so.

there is always the urge to touch you, the desire to feel your skin underneath his fingertips and unbeknownst to him, his hand would act on its own—he would reach out, his fingers stopping close to your skin before immediately taking his hand back once the realization of his actions had sunk inside his head: “what is it?” you have asked him upon noticing his actions and he could only shake his head before saying, “there’s something on your hair.”

he has this strong sense of denial whenever he does something for you or says something to you, reasoning the flowers that he gives from time to time as an act of friendship and appreciation or the poetry that he creates with you in mindbut he keeps hidden was just because you were too beautiful to not have your being expressed in words and written in poems—

—and every single day, in each morning that he wakes up, he strongly believes that his feelings for you had already dissipated into thin air as if it never existed in the place but only to see your stupid smile and mesmerizing eyes and having himself fall in love again. oh, the amount of times he convinces and tells himself that he’ll avoid you from then on only to have himself basking in your presence later on: “this is the last time,” he tells himself.

there are only two states he would end up in if he decides to go further the line, without you and with you, and he wasn’t stupid to not know that he’ll only have the former happen to him.

he would rather have you close to him and yearn for you despite being so near than the heartbreak and admiring you afar.

“it’s not like you’re in love with me or anything, right?”

toxic ; unhealthy relationships — alhaitham (cry by cigarettes after sex)

“saying you’d wait for me to stay, i know it hurts you.”

you don’t have a toxic relationship with alhaitham nor did you have a healthy one but instead it was miserable, simply one-sided. however, it wasn’t like that at first, he wasn’t like this at first when you two would decide to start over again and create a fresh new page of your love story only for it to end in the same way.

he was good, was great, was wonderful—was. you don’t even know how it got to this point. how did the gentle and sweet murmurs of love and compliments turn to endless shouting and fights at every chance you two get? alhaitham, despite already having raised his voice at you on several occasions, had never raised his hand at you but nevertheless, it doesn’t make anything less hurtful.

“let’s just stop this, i’m tired,” it was clear, it was obvious that the only solution for this wretchedness was to simply just stop and end everything, to cut yourself off him but it doesn’t seem to happen. alhaitham, who possesses such great knowledge and intelligence to know the answer to nearly every problem, never seems to understand that. moments of begging, of asking for forgiveness, for a chance that you always give him, that you always provide him outright, seemingly served and topped with the syrup of your tears and blood.

he only loves you when he’s about to lose you, you know that. you weren’t blind but perhaps you were dumb with that but he loves you then, right? if he really does love you at those moments, then perhaps he did love you right from the start and he just never realized it—it was an endless cycle of gaslighting and making a fool of yourself, finding the reason and making logic out of his actions and words.

it was hard to lose him, you were too used to his presence always guiding you, helping you, and encouraging you that the moment you lost him, you just never seemed to know anything—like a child that was just taken out of the womb, you knew nothing, even yourself. it was a clear fact that you were nothing without him and without you, he was nothing.

“what happened to us, alhaitham?”

convenience ; arranged marriage w/ one-sided feelings — ayato (you’re losing me by taylor swift)

“i wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser.”

it was a marriage of convenience—oh, how you hated the word itself. it feels like a painful slap on your face whenever you hear it being used along with the word marriage, one that would leave a burning mark on your skin.

ayato tried to be a good husband, he tried, really. even when he would come home late, he would always have something to give you. despite not having that many conversations and seldomly seeing each other outside the dining room and bedroom, he would still treat you rather kindly and gently, even when you spend most of your nights alone in a bed that was too large for one, you never felt lonely (perhaps you do, you just don’t want to face it because then you’ll realize that your good husband wasn’t good at all); “i apologize, my dear. here, i bought you something on the way back.”

perhaps all of those acts of kindness and sweetness are his way of saying sorry but what’s there to say sorry for even? was it because he failed to arrive for dinner every time or was it just the whole marriage experience overall?

everything was built on convenience, the only time you two would talk to each other is when it’s needed and the conversation you two will have would end rather shortly and the only time he would touch you in a way that makes you feel loved and cherish—making love—is when it’s convenient for him; you were just never a priority, not anything of importance in his life.

what hurts even more is that ayato isn’t even doing any of this because of a boundary that you two had made but rather there was really nothing in between you two, nothing, not even a speck of dust could be found in the distance you two had.

ayato wasn’t even in a state of turmoil, he wasn’t in a position wherein he had to choose something, to sacrifice, to risk something, it’s just that you were there—you were convenient and not because he chose to choose you over anything else. you were easy to woo, easy to hold, easy to fool.

did he really lose you when he never even wanted you to be his in the first place?

“isn’t this convenient for the both of us?”

pleasure ; one-night stand turned to friends w/ benefits— childe/tartaglia (k. by cigarettes after sex)

“we had made love earlier that day with no strings attached, but i could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then.”

it was simply a relationship that was born out of pleasure; created with the foundation of desire, lust, and need. formed in a single night to escape the reality of the misery of your own lives and consistently being nurtured like a seed that was dropped into the soil and naturally taken care of by the rain and sun—it all seemed natural, him inviting you out for dinner, enjoying your time with his stupid jokes and flirty remarks that is luring you to another night of passion just to wake up with a note and a cold bed the next morning.

and there are times you wish to disappear from his life, to stop whatever you two have, and simply just release yourself from his grasp and though he also wishes for the same, childe always holds onto you so tightly as if he never wants you to leave, as if he always want you to stay even if he knows that he’s hurting you, even if you’re just hurting each other; somewhere deep inside his bones, in the crevices of his mind, he doesn’t wish to see you with someone else other than him despite the fact that he wants you to be happy; “stay with me,” he had told you as he kissed and held you.

but childe was a romantic, he always shower you praised in and out of the bed, he was sweet to you; a gentleman with his words and actions. he was lovely, so breathtaking, so poisonous and it wasn’t hard to love him. and he was well-aware of how your gaze seems to linger at him, how there’s something swirling and drowning in the depths of your eyes, and he was well-aware of what it was. and yet, he chooses to ignore it—was it for the good of himself? for you? either way, he can’t have himself falling.

had you known that night with him would end up in this way, you wouldn’t have taken his rough yet gentle hand on that night.

“what’s there for me to stay for?”

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.