#I RUSHED TO POST THIS DID I EVEN POST THE RIGHT EMOJI

[chimcess]

Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre:  One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell. 

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response. 

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.” 

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion. 

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen. 

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for. 

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen. 

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp. 

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room. 

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss. 

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?” 

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?” 

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.” 

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within. 

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly. 

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me. 

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine. 

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper. 

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance. 

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time. 

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me. 

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions. 

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.” 

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[yellowcabdriver]

desperate

pairing: yuuji itadori x f!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: i quit my old soul-crushing job and i’m desperately trying to finish off all wips before i start my new job svdndjsj please enjoy 🙏🏻 live laugh lovesick yuuji 🫡💕 very shamelessly got inspired by this post

nobara said yuuji shouldn’t call you.

“you don’t want her to think that you’re desperate, right?”

yeah, maybe.

but here’s a thing that a considerate friend that is nobara didn’t take into account.

yuuji is crazy about you and he is indeed very desperate for you and your attention. he is filled with joy and excitement whenever he hears your voice – it’s almost pavlovian, very embarrassing. or at least could be, if yuuji cared enough. his pride is a small price to pay to have a wonder that is you in his life.

but yuuji has to admit, maybe nobara is right. at the end of the day you two are not dating (yet, as yuuji very much hopes). you two are not even very close friends (yet, again, as yuuji hopes).

yuuji’s finger lingers over a call button under your name embezzled with a variety of heart emojis.

“at least text her before calling, you know, it’s kind of a new etiquette these days, not to call someone unannounced,” yuuji remembers nobara’s chastising. it makes yuuji hesitate. of course, he doesn’t want to seem like an ignorant bumpkin who isn’t aware of social cues. what if you’re busy? which you probably are because you are so smart and cool. and you are definitely a great texter (even if you weren’t, yuuji wouldn’t know any better because he is that much in love).

with a sigh, yuuji slides over to messages and starts typing rather pathetically “hiiii how are you???” while fighting the urge to add like a gazillion emojis to express himself better. nobara is really getting into his head, yuuji sighs. this is hard considering he is not exactly an overthinker (that would require having more than one thought and his only singular thought right now is you). a text is better than nothing, sure, but yuuji really really really needs to hear your voice. so he rushes back to his contacts and gathers every ounce of willpower to press on your name.

after almost painful eleven seconds you pick up. yuuji’s breathing hitches a little when he hears your sleepy “hello?”

he wants to throw himself from a window.

he forgot it’s almost 3 am.

“hi, um, hey. sorry, you’re asleep.”

what an absolute mess.

“well, not anymore,” you softly laugh. yuuji, though embarrassed, is so happy to hear your laughter.

“sorry.”

“it’s okay, yuuji. did something happen?”

well, kinda. obviously, yuuji’s not going to tell you that he’s just so down bad for you that he called you up in the middle of the night for no reason.

“no, nothing, i- i’m sorry, it’s nothing urgent, i better call you tomorrow.”

“are you sure? i mean, it’s…” he hears you scramble. “three in the morning. it has got to be an emergency.”

it is, just not a conventional one. yuuji violently shakes his head and then remembers that you can’t see him (why is he such a fool when it comes to you?)

“no, no, i’m sorry, i screwed up. i forgot that not everyone stays up late like me. go to sleep. sorry.”

“stop apologising, it’s all fine. okay, i’ll believe that there’s no emergency. but you better call me tomorrow to confirm that you’re okay.”

yuuji’s cheeks are burning.

“yeah, of course. sorry again.”

you laughed.

“good night, yuuji.”

“good night.”

yuuji’s fingers shake when he types the first message.

“sorry, i actually didn’t mean to call you.”

delivered.

yuuji’s eyes are not leaving the screen beaming brightly into his face.

read.

his palms are suddenly cold.

dot, dot, dot.

“it’s okay,” followed by a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. such a you thing to send. for a minute he contemplates going to sleep and maybe die from embarrassment in his sleep but something takes him over. before he can register it, his fingers start typing.

“fuck it”

delivered, read.

“i did mean to call”

delivered, read.

“i wanted to talk to you”

delivered, read.

“to hear your voice and your laugh”

delivered, read.

yuuji can physically feel the blood rushing away from his limbs when he sees three dancing dots.

“i want to hear your voice, too.”

yuuji’s head is spinning as he fights the urge to jump around the room while smiling at his phone like a madman. megumi and nobara for sure would be disgusted at this sight. he is so ecstatic that he almost misses the next message.

“ft?”

his long calloused fingers dance across the screen to quickly type “i’ll call you”.

he rushes to facetime.

you pick up almost instantly.

yuuji looks at your face, traces of sleep still present in your expression but he can see – and it makes his heart flutter – that you are genuinely happy to see him, too.

you both spent a few intimate moments staring at each other’s badly lit faces, glowing under the dim lights of your screens in the dark, until yuuji finally finds the courage to break the silence.

“so… did you sleep well?”

you quietly laugh and yuuji falls in love even harder though he thought it wasn’t possible. he can’t wait to tell the gang that being desperate pays off, and oh so well.

and what does nobara know anyway.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Beginnings Part 2

Part 1

A properly written version of these Paris Olympics headcanons. Gale is on the U.S. equestrian eventing team, Bucky is a U.S. gymnast, and they meet on the plane to Paris.

Author's note: Part 2 because brevity is not my strong suit!!!

---

Crazy. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. 

That’s all Gale can think as he approaches the dining hall around 4:00 that afternoon. He keeps nervously running a hand through his hair and then frantically trying to fix it again, not wanting to look like too much of a mess for this… thing. That he isn’t sure is a date. Or not.

On his way to the dining hall, he realized belatedly that there’s a bit of grain staining his shirt sleeve, courtesy of Whiskey begging him for ear scratches while she finished her feed. He was already a few minutes late, and going back to his room to change was not an option. So he stepped into one of the bathrooms in the village and dabbed at it frantically with water, trying to get it out, but eventually resigned himself to the fact that he’s just destined to make a fool of himself. Luckily it’s only a small spot on the back of the sleeve. With any luck, it’ll go unnoticed. 

He can’t believe he’s doing this. That’s the theme of today, and it will continue to be the theme of today. He almost wonders if it’s actually happening. If he and John actually agreed to wander around together in lieu of doing it with any of their existing friends. But they’d remembered to exchange numbers this time, and there is no doubting the text on his phone that says ‘I’m outside the dining hall! See you soon!’ with a little smiley face emoji at the end. It makes Gale’s chest feel funny. 

“Buck!”

Gale turns his head to see Bucky standing by a bench outside the dining hall, and Gale waves, willing his heart rate to calm the fuck down. “Hey! You’re here.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him as he approaches, and he holds his hands out to the sides. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“No, I just…” Gale shakes his head at himself. “I’m glad you’re here.” He’s blowing this already, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that stained your shirt today,” Bucky muses, reaching out to tug at the back of Gale’s shirt sleeve.

“Whiskey,” Gale says by way of explanation. Then he rushes to add, “The horse. Not… not like the alcohol.”

Bucky lets go of the sleeve, smoothing it back down over Gale’s bicep. “I know.”

“I didn’t have time to change. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“Well.” Gale motions ahead of them, towards the Seine across the road from the dining hall. “Shall we?”

They set off in a random direction along the water, suddenly very aware of the fact that neither of them know where they’re going. They turn away from the river after a few minutes, wander past a few training facilities, run across the road in front of a bus that honks loudly at them, find out exactly which buildings they have the clearance to access. They grab an early dinner of ‘artisan’ sandwiches at one of the cafes, and Gale laughs when Bucky accidentally drops his last bite on the ground and is immediately swarmed by pigeons. They stop to take pictures – both genuine and silly – at multiple Olympic logo statues, and Bucky fights the urge to post a photo of them together on his social media, not yet ready to invite that kind of media storm. It’s nice, in a way. Just getting to exist with a person without worrying about the press. Even if it can only last a day. The media will be all over him again as soon as podium training starts, and he knows Gale will have his fair share of reporters after him with his events coming up right after opening ceremonies. 

But for an afternoon, they don’t have to be Olympic athletes. They don’t have to worry about medals or training or their image. They can just be together, enjoy the company, enjoy the beautiful, blue-sky day. It’s so simple, a few hours spent walking around aimlessly with someone he just met, but it gives Bucky a sense of calm that doesn’t normally exist within him.

By about 7pm, they find themselves in some bar not far from the Olympic Village, promising to themselves that they’ll be proper tourists and take the city by storm another day. As they weave their way through the crowd, hearing a babbling mix of different languages that drowns out any actual intelligible words, Gale trails behind Bucky towards the bar. A young, attractive bartender greets them as they snag two empty seats.

Gale turns toward Bucky and leans in, cheek to cheek, so Bucky can hear. “What do you want?”

“Oh, uh,” Bucky stammers, thrown off. “Whiskey?”

Gale nods and motions to the bartender. “Puis-je avoir un verre de whiskey pour mon ami, et… ah, un French soixante-quinze, s’il vous plaît.”

Bucky’s brain stops working. Suddenly all he can do is stare at Gale’s face and watch as he leans on the bartop, nodding and smiling at the bartender.

The bartender is smiling back. “Avec du cognac ou du gin?”

Gale tilts his head. “Que recommandez-vous?”

The bartender presses his hands against the bar top, leaning in close, conspiratorially. “Le cognac.”

“Ah oui, je veux ça.” Gale nods and grins at the bartender again. They continue speaking back and forth using what are probably words but to Bucky sounds like pretty, cursive gibberish. He recognizes that twinkling look in the bartender’s eyes, the suggestive upturn at the corner of his mouth, the way he leans too much on the bartop in an attempt to be close, friendly. He’s flirting with Gale, quite shamelessly. Bucky just can’t quite figure out if Gale is flirting back.

So Bucky does what any rational person would do when the near-stranger they're crushing on is getting flirted with by someone else. He leans in close to Gale, getting his attention, and he reaches a hand up to gently stroke a loose strand of hair back off of his forehead. He pushes every ounce of sweetness and softness he can into his smile so that Gale focuses those pretty eyes on him instead. The bartender takes the hint and goes about preparing their drinks.

“Jealous?” Gale asks lowly as he turns around on his bar stool, so he’s leaning back against the counter. Bucky doesn’t really answer, just makes a noncommittal huffing sort of noise. Gale shakes his head. “You barely know me, John.”

Bucky shrugs, leaning against the bartop. “I know enough.” He hesitates over his next words, but what the hell. “I want to know you.” Gale takes a deep breath that settles into a smile, and Bucky knows he didn’t fuck up even as Gale looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. “What did you just say to him?”

“I ordered you a whiskey, and myself a French 75. He asked if I wanted cognac or gin, I asked what he would recommend, he said cognac, and I said I’d take that. And then he asked if I wanted to hook up when he got off work.” Gale looks casually over at Bucky, who is not making any attempt to hide the alarm on his face, and he chuckles. “I’m kidding. He just asked if I’m here for the Games, and we talked a bit about that.”

“He totally wanted to hook up with you though.”

“Did he?” Gale shrugs and looks out over the crowd of people filling the room.

“How did you not notice?”

“I’m already here with someone else who I can’t take my eyes off of.”

As Gale levels a suggestive look back on him again, Bucky wills himself not to blush. He knows he fails. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”

“Oui,” Gale teases. The bartender sets a glass of whiskey down in front of Bucky, and then hands Gale his cocktail. Gale’s attention is all on Bucky now though. “Est-ce que tu aimes ça?”

Bucky takes a shaky breath before sipping his drink, looking at Gale over the rim of his glass. “I don’t know what you just asked me, but yes.”

Gale laughs and lifts his glass to his mouth, lets the taste of the cognac and champagne linger on his tongue. He looks back at Bucky, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of him. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

“Is that good or bad?” Bucky asks. His voice sounds confident, full of suggestion, but inside he’s teetering on an edge, waiting to see if Gale’s going to push him off or drag him up.

“Mmm.” Gale takes another sip, lets Bucky stew in silence, as if he has to think about it. Then the corner of his mouth pulls up in that way that Bucky is coming to love, and he says, “it’s good.”

So Bucky leans towards him, grabs the hair at the back of his head, and he kisses him. The taste of whiskey collides with notes of cognac and lemon, smokey and sweet. He kisses Gale in a way that he’s rarely kissed anyone else before: gentle and wanting, asking and taking, soft and smooth like a love song. And Gale lets him.

The night goes by in a haze after that, full of laughter and stories and casual touches. They both order a second drink and toast to the Games. It feels like they could talk forever, and it would still never be enough. John has never in his life believed in soulmates, but he also can’t come up with a better explanation for the way Gale Cleven just casually wandered into his life, flashing a smile and booking a rent-free stay in his mind like he was simply coming home.

John Egan never really thought he was the type of person someone could find a home in. But maybe he could be. 

When Gale’s phone rings in the middle of their maybe-probably-definitely-date, he mutters something by way of apology and accepts the call. “Hi Marge.”

“Benny says you’re not in your room. And you’re not with me. So where are you?”

“I’m fine, how are you?” Gale replies. He can hear Marge rolling her eyes.

“Gale, where are you?”

“I’m out. With a friend.” His eyes dart over to Bucky, who is making a show of not listening in too much.

“All your friends are here with me,” Marge counters. “So… how does that work?”

“I’m… with John?”

He hears her take a deep breath, can picture her nodding and putting her head in her hand. “The gymnast. Seriously Gale, you went out with the gymnast?”

“You told me to be social,” he points out.

“That’s not what- okay, you know what. Fine. That’s fine. Good job. Gold star.”

He tilts his head back with a fond smile. “Marge, I’m a big boy. I can go out if I wanna go out.”

“I know-” she pauses. “You’re not sober, are you?”

This almost makes Gale laugh. Almost. Marge knows him too well, can parse out nearly everything he’s thinking and feeling from his voice alone. “Mmm, almost. Mostly. I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I know you’re not drunk, you idiot. You don’t get drunk.” This is true. 

“I’m fine, Marge. I’m good, actually. John’s… I don’t know. I’m having fun. He’s… well, he’s amazing.” He looks at Bucky again, and this time his eyes are locked right onto Gale. He looks pleased, as if no one has ever said that about him before, which Gale knows is definitely not true. What he doesn’t know is that Bucky has never particularly cared if people like him or not, never cared what they said about him. Until now.

Marge sighs. “Just be safe, okay? Don’t… don’t do anything stupid. I know you won’t but I have to say it anyway. And don’t have unprotected sex!”

“Marge!”

“And I want to meet him.”

“Goodbye, Marge!”

“Love ya babe.”

Gale hangs up the phone in exasperation, and when he looks up again, Bucky is stifling a laugh. “Girlfriend?” he asks, and he’s only half joking.

Gale shakes his head emphatically. “God, no. I love Marge, but not like that.”

“She’s on the jumping team, right?” Bucky remembers reading about her. Gale, Benny, and Marjorie. The three young hotshots on the U.S. equestrian team, all from the same training facility.

Gale stirs the remains of his drink, listening to the ice cubes clink against the glass. “Yeah. We grew up together, actually.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

“She is. But I don’t wanna think about her right now.” Then Gale leans over and kisses Bucky again, short and sweet. When he pulls away, Bucky wishes he wouldn’t, even though they’re in the middle of a crowded bar.

He asks Gale if he wants another drink. Gale politely refuses. “I don’t drink much,” he confides. 

Bucky starts to nod; they are Olympic athletes, after all. But then he pauses, squinting at Gale like he’s trying to calculate exactly what those words mean. “You don’t drink much,” he repeats slowly. “But your horse is named after alcohol?”

Gale laughs, and Bucky momentarily wants nothing more than to make that happen again. “She’s named after a plane that my great grandfather flew in World War II,” Gale explains. “Hundred Proof.”

And why does that make all the sense in the world? Everything Gale says makes Bucky fall a little more. “That’s… unexpected. And amazing.”

Gale looks pleased in that way that he only seems to when talking about his horse. “A special name for a special mare.”

And a special guy, Bucky thinks.

Even so, the drinks Gale did have were strong, and he can feel it in his head, in the way the world takes just a fraction of a second too long to catch up when he turns around. He’s on that edge where the alcohol is still making him pleasantly relaxed, but it’s almost to the point of reminding him of things he’d rather forget. Plus, he has to be up early tomorrow, and he’s sure Bucky does, too. Bucky must see something on his face, some sort of discomfort or unease, because he puts a hand on the small of his back, stilling him as he looks him in the eye. “Wanna head back?”

Gale nods. “Yeah, yeah sure.” And then Bucky is grabbing his hand, and Gale’s foggy brain spends too long focusing on how big Bucky’s hand is, how it nearly engulfs his own. He thinks about what hands like that could do and it makes him shiver before he chastises himself for wandering so far.

“You okay?” Bucky is looking back over his shoulder at him, a concerned little smile teasing at the corners of his mouth, and yeah, Gale is okay. This whole day has been wildly outside of his comfort zone, and yet he feels okay. John Egan feels safe, somehow. And Gale wants to wrap himself up in that feeling.

He nods again. “I’m good.”

–

It’s 10pm, and outside, the sun is just setting over Paris. “I can’t get used to that,” Bucky muses. “Sunset is so late here.”

Gale looks at him, and he finds that he can’t look away. “It’s beautiful, though,” he says, and he wonders if Bucky knows he isn’t just talking about the sun.

As darkness falls over them, they half stumble their way back to the Olympic Village. Neither of them are drunk, but they are just this side of tipsy. And they can’t stop talking and laughing as they try to figure out where the heck they are and how to get back to their little apartments. They’re still hanging off of each other, like it never occurred to either of them to let go.

“That one!” Bucky yells, pointing enthusiastically towards a building to their left.

Gale pulls back on his hand though, shaking his head. “No, it’s not the right color.”

Bucky stops and tilts his head, squinting at it even though it’s dark now and there’s no way squinting is gonna help. “You sure?”

“Yeah, our building is white. We need to go closer to the river.”

Gale is right. Their building is right on the Seine, and it is, in fact, white. By the time they find it, it’s nearing 11pm. They stop outside of Bucky’s door, hands locked together as they stare at each other like awkward teenagers after a first date. “I guess this is goodnight, then,” Gale says hesitantly. 

Bucky shrugs, uncertain, but then he shoves out the next few words before he loses his nerve. “You could come in.”

“Aren’t you sharing a room with Curt?”

Bucky smirks, darting his tongue over his lower lip, and the way Gale clocks that movement is very satisfying to him. “Curt’s not gonna be back for a while yet. Trust me.” Bucky has absolutely no idea where the guy went, and he’s not sure he wants to know. All he knows is that Curt told him he’d be out late, so if he wanted to bring his little blonde horseback rider back home with him, that would be alright. Bucky punched him in the arm, and Curt insisted he was just doing his duty as wingman. That and he legitimately wasn’t going to be back until late anyways.

“Alright then,” Gale whispers, and the way his voice goes all deep is enough to make Bucky practically drag him through the door.

Bucky’s room is pretty much the exact same as Gale’s. That is, minimal. Small, with white walls and wood floors, basic furniture including an open wardrobe and some shelves. And, of course, Paris 2024 comforters spread over top of two of those cardboard, anti-sex beds that everyone has heard so much about. For sustainability, the Olympic committee said, as the “intimacy ban” from Tokyo has supposedly been lifted. Right. Bucky, however, knows for a fact that such a ban didn’t really work anyways.

“Cozy,” Gale quips as the door closes behind them.

“They like to make us feel special,” Bucky agrees sarcastically, tugging on Gale’s hand again to pull him closer.

Gale lets himself be pulled forward, so he and Bucky are almost nose to nose. “Wouldn’t want us thinking too highly of ourselves.”

Bucky tilts his head and looks down at Gale. Gale has never in his life felt short or small in any way, but Bucky is a good couple inches taller than him and has quite a bit more bulk. When Bucky wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him even closer, though, Gale thinks he likes it. And Bucky is completely obsessed with the way Gale is blinking up at him, his lips parted, watching Bucky like he’s a puzzle he wants to solve.

“I think pretty highly of you,” Bucky murmurs. Then he kisses Gale again, slow and sensual and nothing like he’s used to. But it feels right somehow.

Gale pulls away and looks down at his feet, putting a hand on each of Bucky’s rock-solid biceps. 

“Is this okay?” Bucky asks him.

Gale looks back up at him and bites his lower lip with a breathy laugh. He can’t believe he’s doing this. Letting himself be propositioned by someone he just met at the Paris Olympics. Benny and Marge will have a field day if they find out. Gale himself can’t quite sort out how he got here. All he knows is he doesn’t care; he wants this. So he nods and says, “definitely.”

Then he pushes Bucky back against the wall and… wow. Bucky isn’t used to that. It’s usually the other way around for him. He finds himself gasping as Gale’s surprisingly strong hands grip his shoulders, as soft lips find his own. He can feel the cold wall through the back of his shirt, but he focuses on the warmth radiating from Gale’s body pressed against his and lets his hands settle on Gale’s slim waist as he relaxes into the kiss.

Gale pulls away and Bucky tries to follow, but he opens his eyes to see Gale looking at him, pupils blown wide. “You know,” Gale says. “Part of the reason I flirted with that bartender was to see if you’d care.”

So he admits it. He was flirting. “I cared,” Bucky tells him.

“I know.”

Bucky nuzzles Gale’s neck, nipping at the fragile skin, and he relishes the way it makes Gale’s breath catch. “Is that okay? That I cared?”

Gale tilts his head ever so slightly, giving Bucky better access, and Bucky thinks he has his answer. But he wants to hear it. “I liked it,” Gale confesses. “And I liked the way you touched my hair, too.”

Bucky pulls back so he can look Gale in the eye again, and he reaches a tentative hand up toward the side of Gale’s face, where a wayward strand of blonde hair has fallen down over his forehead, right above his eye. With gentle fingertips, Bucky brushes the strand back, just like he did in the bar, and it makes Gale’s cheeks flush as he averts his eyes, looking down at Bucky’s other hand firmly holding his waist.

“Like that?” Bucky asks. Then his fingers trace a line to the back of Gale’s head, where he twines them in soft hair and grips it experimentally, urging Gale to lift his head again. He presses their lips together and bites gently at Gale’s lower lip, swallows the gasp that follows. “Or like that?” He whispers against the corner of Gale’s mouth.

“Tout ça,” Gale says quietly. All of it.

Bucky puts both hands on Gale’s waist again and spins him around, so they’ve swapped places. Gale now pressed between Bucky’s body and the wall, Bucky kissing him with more passion than Gale’s ever been kissed with before. 

“Do that again,” Bucky growls as he tugs at the hem of Gale’s shirt with insistent hands. 

Gale lets him pull it up, over his head. “Oh? Ça te plaît?” The shirt drops to the floor at their feet and immediately Bucky’s hands are back on him, running up and down his sides, exploring his chest and abdomen and the small of his back with a desperate curiosity. 

“À votre tour. Allez,” Gale grunts, tugging at Bucky’s shirt. “Only fair.”

Bucky obliges and pulls away just briefly to pull his shirt off, letting it join Gale’s on the wood floor below. He sighs deeply when Gale’s hands touch his bare skin, gliding gently over his broad shoulders, his biceps, his back. “I want to look at you,” Bucky whispers.

He takes a step back, his fingertips tracing down over Gale’s arm as he pulls away until only their fingers are brushing, keeping them linked together. He inhales deeply as he takes in the sight of the man he’s so readily invited into his world. This perfect, perfect person. Piercing blue eyes analyzing him, messy blonde hair just begging to be pulled, rock solid abs and strong shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, where Bucky’s hands have decided they belong.

“My god, Gale, you’re…” He doesn’t have the words.

“Parfait,” Gale breathes, eyes roaming up and down Bucky’s body. Strong and imposing, nothing but well-trained muscle, equally messy dark curls that Gale wants to feel between his fingers, the broadest shoulders he’s ever seen up close. Everything about Bucky’s body screams power, and yet everything about how he looks at Gale, how he touches him, is affectionate.

Gale rushes forward, letting his fingers grip Bucky’s soft hair as he kisses him, hard. Their hands can’t get enough of each other, touching everywhere they can find. Bucky stops him, though, when Gale pushes him towards the bed.

“No,” he pants. “It won’t hold our weight. Trust me.”

Gale quirks an eyebrow at him, amused. “Make a habit of bringing athletes into your room?”

“Just once,” Bucky admits, leaning in again to suck at Gale’s collarbone. “I was young and stupid,” he mutters.

“And now?” Gale asks, his hand on the back of Bucky’s head, urging him to keep doing that.

Bucky laughs against his skin. “Might still be stupid, but the decision to bring you here sure wasn’t.” Spending time with Gale today was quite possibly the least stupid thing he’d ever done. “Hold on,” he murmurs. He’s tired of this standing against walls business.

He slips out of Gale’s hold and grabs the thin comforter off his bed, laying it out on the hard floor. Then he takes both of Gale’s hands in his and guides him down, until they’re both on the floor with the comforter underneath them. Bucky’s back is pressed against the cardboard base of the bed, Gale effectively in his lap, straddling him.

Gale presses forward and nips at Bucky’s ear, at his neck, at his jaw. Bucky’s head is spinning from the feeling of Gale’s bare skin under his hands and against his chest. Gale has an absolute fascination with Bucky’s shoulders, unable to keep himself from running his hands over them again and again, his fingernails scraping gently across them and making Bucky shiver. They’re grinding against each other now, and they both feel dizzy from the pleasure.

Bucky starts working at Gale’s belt, trying to get it off, but that’s when Gale pulls away. Bucky worries he pushed too much, but Gale has that soft half-smile on his face. “Hey now,” he says gruffly. “Buy a guy dinner first, why don’t you?”

And seriously, the way Gale’s eyes are twinkling at him like that and the way his soft hair is already a mess just from Bucky running his hands through it over and over, the way this man makes Bucky’s heart beat too fast, too fast, too fast the entire time they’re together… He can’t stand it and he never wants it to end.

So he pulls his hands away from the belt, puts one back on Gale’s hip and the other on his cheek and says, “Tomorrow. I’ll take you for dinner tomorrow.”

Gale nods, pleased, and kisses him again, rough and beautiful and better than anything Bucky has ever experienced before. And he knows that he’s already falling for Gale Cleven. Has been since the plane.

It’s going to be one hell of an Olympics.

---

---

Next part

[kpopbestie96]

Meeting with you ex - Bang Chan

Hello lovelies, hope you enjoy this fun little short story. The photos Chan posted gave me inspo to write it. If he can be delusional, so can I! 😂 hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~

18+, cussing, flirting, she/her, y/n, fake text messages, photos of Chan from his Instagram

Italics means in thoughts

~~~~~~~~

You slide onto your couch after experiencing an amazing Sunday that you haven't had in over two months.

It was finally the first day you didn't think about him because Sundays where the days that you would spend together. You knew that forgetting about him would take some time and still have a long way to go.

You put your favorite show on and heard your phone going off, assuming it's the friend's group chat, wanting to discuss today's fun adventures.

But when you picked up your phone you saw it was the ex you thought you were finally forgetting about. Fuck...of course he would text today...of all days!

You wanted to ignore the message; your brain was yelling at you to just delete it. But your heart was curious to see he wanted, wanted to know if he was okay. Ugh...im going to regret this...

You typed saying hi before nervously tossing your phone on the coffee table. I can't believe I did that, you layed down on your couch, placing a pillow over your face as you yelled into it. Why did I respond?? Why??? I was forgetting about him!!

A minute went by before a ding went off, indicating another message came through from him. Although, you were hoping it was truly anyone else. Welp, let's see what he wants. Why must my curiosity do this to me.

"AAAAHHHHHHH", you screamed into your pillow again as you tossed your phone onto the couch next to you, hoping it disappears forever. Should I tell my friends? No...I won't hear the end of it...maybe after I'll tell them. That's if I even go...

.....

The next morning came, and you got little to no sleep, tossing and turning from the night before. The moment your alarm went off, you stared up at your ceiling contemplating if you should go. I'm just going to text him that I can't make it.

But when you went to the messages you saw the smiley emoji he put, probably excited to meet up. Well fuck...you quickly jumped into the shower and began to think what he could possibly talk about at lunch. Mentally preparing yourself for anything that comes up in the conversation.

Rushing around your house, after doing your makeup, you found a simple summer dress, that's a bit short, it sits right about your knees. It's white with small daisies placed all over with spaghetti straps. You paired it with some cute plain white sandals that have a small heel.

Right before heading out you looked at yourself one last time in the mirror as your nerves began to grow. The same nerves made your stomach turn as you followed the GPS to the café Chan recommend.

There's a spot, you thought to yourself as you turned into it and parking the car. You stared out into the open, gripping the steering wheel, as you kept repeating in your head how you can't do this. Fuck it, I'm leaving. But when you went to restart the car, there was this guilt mixed with nervous feeling swirling around.

I guess I'll go for a bit, you thought as you looked in the review mirror before grabbing your bag and heading in to the café.

A hostess by the front door immediately greeted you as you walked up, asking if it was just you today or how many were in your party.

"No, I'm meeting someone here. I think he might be here already." And as you said that your ex did in fact message you that he was sitting down outside on the patio they have.

"Oh, he's actually sitting down outside," you pointed as the hostess smiled.

"Go right ahead," she waved her hand as you nervously walk to him.

Your legs began to feel wobbly and their were butterflies in your stomach flying around as you could see his black sunglasses sitting on his black hat.

And why the fuck is he wearing a tank top? Is he trying to show off his muscles?? Is he trying to make me want him again??

The closer you got, the more you thought about running away. But, as you were about to turn back around, Chan moved his head up and locked eyes with you.

You stood in your spot close to the table, with your breath hitched in your throat. He couldn't help but smile, showing off his dimples, making you melt in your spot. Fuck this man...ugh...

"Hey y/n, glad you made it." He got up and went to hug you but stepped back before he realized what he was doing.

You could see how awkward this was becoming so you decided to just hug him and get it out of the way. Oh this was a mistake, you thought as he wrapped his arms around you. The familiarity hit you hard as you missed his hugs. They felt like a warm blanket on a cold day, after you've been outside. You felt calm/relaxed as you could feel yourself melting into the hug.

"Umm let's sit down," He said clearing his throat as he broke up the hug.

You nodded your head as he pulled out your chair for you. "Oh, thank you." He's really not going to make this easy on me.

He sat down across from you as you couldn't help but take in his jewelry. Seeing his earrings, the necklace he bought when you and him were on vacation. His bracelets and his ring that sat on his right index finger, showing off his veiny hands.

"Soo how have you been?" He asked shyly as you snapped your eyes up to meet with him. Man, he's so fucking gorgeous. Okay stay strong, you can do this.

"I've been good, just working a lot. I had off today, so that's nice. How have you've been?"

"Good, working a lot too. Staying busy..."

"That's good," you cringed how how awkward this conversation was going, while the waiter walked up to take your drink and food order.

"Oh, went back to Australia..." He brought up after the waiter walked away.

"How was that? How's your family?"

"Everyone is good, doing well. Missed Berry so much!"

"Glad everyone is doing good, aww I miss Berry too."

"Here, let me show you this video I took of her. She was chasing a butterfly." He took out his phone to show you the video and other photos he took while he was there. You felt a bit more relaxed, feeling like normal with him. It was a nice way to break up the awkward tension.

You even recalled a memory of when you went with him to Australia and Berry kept wanting to hang out with you, ignoring Chan.

Moments go by that you and him don't realize the food and drinks are already being brought out as you both smiled before taking bites of your foods.

I can't believe how well this is going, you thought. Even while eating, you both would shared a laugh as you joked like a old times. He even began taking photos of you like when you guys were together, making you do the same.

"Sooo should we talk about it?" He asked taking a sip of drink, fidgeting with the straw as you became quiet. The smile that once sat on your face disappeared as you sat back in your chair. I should have known...I mean this is one of the things I thought he would bring up, you stared at the ground wondering what to say before looking back up at him.

"Um...Chan...we had such a nice day," you tried to say simply. Let's hold off for now..."

"But, you don't miss this?" he asked while pointing between the two of you.

You shrugged your shoulders because it was you who initiated the break up. But deep down you missed him so much, your heart would ache for him. You would want to show up to his house but knew you couldn't.

"Look, I'm going to be honest with you," he sat up in his chair while he cleared his throat. Oh no, you thought as you shifted uncofortably in your seat. "I miss you so much. I missed this. Yes, I just wanted to come to lunch and see how you were doing but this made me realize how much I want you back."

You nodded you head because you knew what he meant. This lunch reminded you how much you still love him. "But we broke up for a reason...I just think..."

"Think about it, please...and we'll talk more about it," he said interrupting you. You nodded your head before he change the subject and had you laughing moments later.

After talking for a bit more, he walked you to your car to say goodbye. "Let me know when you get home."

"I will," you displayed a soft smile right before he wrapped his arms around you, making your body tense for a few seconds. I need to calm down, you thought as you brought your hands up and wrapped your arms around his toned torso, closing your eyes tightly. Wow, I really did miss you.

Neither one of you wanted to let go as you could feel the tears wanting to form. You wanted to cry out, yelling how much you missed him and want to be back together. But, you blinked your eyes to push the tears away, making you move your head up and locking eyes with him. Then, mistakenly, your eyes dropped to his pink pillow-like lips that you immediately regret looking at, making you shoot your eyes back up at his.

You could see him smirk, knowing you were caught. Fuck..."If you want to...you can just ask." He snickered as you could feel your cheeks become warm, mentally palming your forehead for becoming weak for him. Why must he have this affect on me???

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..." you said wiggling your way out of his hug and taking a step back.

"Really? I saw your eyes fall down to my lips," He had the biggest smile on his face, seeing the tips of his ears a bit red.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." you crossed your arms in front of your chest as you moved your head to the side, trying to play it off. Although, you knew he wasn't going to let this go.

"So you didn't do this?" He took a small step towards you, gently placing his right index finger on your cheek. You shivered under his touch and his cold ring that made contact. He slowly moved your head to face him as he moved his eyes down towards your lips this time before meeting your gaze again.

"I- I...uh don't know what you mean," you laughed flirtatiously as you playful pushed him away. You could feel your cheeks become warm as you knew what he was doing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, let me get closer," He said taking a huge step toward you this time, towering over, making you look up at him. Your bodies so close you could put a pencil in between you two and it wouldn't fall.

You mouth was a bit agape as your eyes were locked with his, feeling as if you were in a trance. "This," he said moving his eyes slowly down to your lips then back up at your eyes. You felt a knot in your stomach form as your pressed your lips tightly together from trying to keep yourself from smiling. Don't break, you can do this!

"I did no such thing..." you seductively said, catching yourself off guard.

He moved his hand up, pushing a strand of hair out of your face, making goosebumps rise on your arm. "So you don't want to kiss me?" He inched his head lower towards yours as you were losing breathing. You looked down at his lips seeing how close they are to yours. If you puckered your lips, they would immediately touch his.

Fuck....why...why! This man, I swear! You moved your eyes up to his, feeling his smile against your lips, "So you didn't move your eyes down to look at my lips, to want to taste them again?" He tucked his left hand in your hair as his right hand grabbed yours.

You could only softly nod your head yes as he closed his eyes, making you do the same as you awaited for it. Oh shit, oh shit, is the only thing you thought as you waited for the kiss. But you opened your eyes when you felt nothing happening, seeing him back away from you. "Guess I imagined," he shrugged.

"Christopher!" You yelled as he began to laugh.

"Hey, I didn't do anything," his laughed filled your ears as you couldn't believe he teased you like that. Can't believe him!

"You know what you did!" You pointed at him as you tried to hold in your laughter because you did find it amusing. Even if he made you almost break.

"I don't know what you mean," his tongue poked the side of his cheek knowing you love when he does that.

"That's it, I gotta go," you threw your hands up in defeat before digging in your purse for your keys.

"Thank you for coming, get home safe!" He said after calming his laughter down.

"I will, you do too!" You pretend to say in a angry voice.

On the car ride home, you could feel a smile spread across your face. The feeling of how close his lips were still lingered making you giggle to yourself. If someone looks into my car, they're going to think I'm crazy. Definitely not telling my friends about that.

As soon as you got home, you lied down on your couch and messaged Chan that you made it. I should don't it, but as quick as you were to think, the quicker you were to scrolling through the photos you took of him.

Maybe I should get back with him I missed him so much. And, we had a really fun time today...you thought as you saw a message pop up from Chan.

You sat staring at the screen, feeling your heart beating against your chest. Just do it, just say it! Your fingers began to quickly dance against your phone screen, not reading it back before you hit send.

Like the shy person you are, you quickly locked your phone and set it in the coffee table. You stood up, letting out some strange noise because of how nervous you are feeling. 'Its fine...I'm fine', you said out loud as you walked away from what you did.

* Part two of Meeting with your ex- Bang Chan (the end)

* Other Stray Kids stuff I made

* My stories on Wattpad and A03

[classicconundrum]

i draw so that a 15 year old years from now right out of her deltarune phase scrolling mindlessly for the next thing to draw during history class can perhaps, one day, see my art and say "fuck it lets watch (insert homoerotic show/podcast)"

i draw so that a 25 year old nonbinary person on a 5 minute break from work can scroll on Tumblr and say "people still watch homestar runner?" before mindlessly reblogging as there fingers were trained to do after a life of this.

i draw so that the teen boy who has to pretend to be homophobic around his friends can send the little pictures to his boyfriend because "you like that show right?"

i draw so that 6 years from now the woman I wish I would have had the chance to marry can go on my blog and find all my little pictures and laugh and say "you never changed, did you?"

i draw for my friend, T, who likes every post i make and comments on all of my tiktoks "i agree!" followed by some arrangement of shouting and fire emojis

i draw for my mother who doesn't quite understand what I mean when I go on frivolous rants on what happened in that show or game or podcast or book or fanfic but smiles because its rare she sees me so happy it simply must be shared, and so she says "That totally makes sense" in a sarcastic tone that to one might convey rudeness, but between us has a certain sincerity, a recognition of the mundane, and we laugh.

i draw for myself to look back and squeal giddy because I love the way it turned out

i draw for people who would be my best friend that I never meet because im too scared to comment on there posts

i draw for the people i have known as long as i can remember, the people i likely won't get to see until i die, because they like my art

i draw in spite of those who make me want to quit, i draw because i know they can't stop me, and I don't think they would want to

i draw in spite of my middle school sweetheart that I still text sometimes because I miss when we were friends

i draw in spite of people who called all my art rushed after hours of work

i draw for the boy I wished i would marry because I know he looks at the art I made of him and washes out the part of it that was me, so that its a hollow glass of his own self love, posted to his media pinned as a profile photo, claiming it's nothing but knowing that after it all, he hangs a picture painted by me in his room and my love will never leave his heart.

i draw for the man he will one day be when he pushes the things he did down to unpleasant memories, and he looks at that figure, and knows that at one point, he was loved enough for someone to make it.

i draw for the man one day I will be, looking through sketchbooks full of Homestuck ocs and Mario enemies with nothing but the indication of a smile as I'm flooded with all the love I had for so many things.

i draw for the man T will be one day, hopefully still a friend of mine, finding his silly notes disbursed through my notebooks. his doodles in pages perfectly reserved just for him. you know. cuz I love him.

i draw for the people who will pass my life only knowing the cool eye I was drawing in history class.

i draw for the girl who took up art after seeing the way I put pen to page

i draw for the family that cheers to see another work done by me

i draw for the people who will exist long after I have died so subtlety effected by the art had on so many other artists, so many people, even if they don't know my name, even if they will never see my work.

i draw because its fun and it helps me think and I like thinking of ideas and putting them onto paper and I like how the finished piece looks most of the time.

i draw

[accio-victuuri]

how many cpns can you get from a 7 second douyin by wyb? 💚💚💚

The Douyin King is back! I know i’m not the only one who missed his random ass douyin posts. They are very much welcome, he is free to share one everyday. I’m cackling at the comparison going around between WYB and other people. So, the rest of the celebrities and influencers are posting on a regular basis per month and have different topics.

photos at work, travel photos, interests/hobbies. this line represents the whole year. there is another diagram that shows how many per line, like 1-2 or more. then you have wang yibo 😂😂😂

line 1 : I'm busy at work and have no time. // line 2: I don’t have time to skateboard, ride a motorcycle or play golf // line 3: Visit my gege’s camping site and the volcano scenery is very good and has a lot of material// line 4: happy and don’t have much time// line 5: Shoot whoever is lucky enough to shoot!

then all the lines after is when he will post — shows that he will share a lot towards the end of the year to keep up with KPI. lol. he is rushing his homework again, to the point that on the video, people are searching what wyb’s kpi mean. which is the engagement metrics he needs to reach and now he gotta work on it, even the fans know and expect it.

the memes are also hilarious! 😂😂😂 ( cat memes below ) basically him working on making his “cool” posts to the internet.

Honestly, never change yibo. We love you as you are, Our Gremlin Best Actor. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

That was a long intro, now let’s move on to the sweets & CPN…..

• @rainbowsky already talked about the messenger bird CPN & how it might be for ZZ’s Hennessy endorsement.

• similarity in how sometimes, they just wanna post an emoji for caption. this one is a cute parallel from 2021 and 2023. If you wanna further clown with WYB using kadian 13 for yizhan then go ahead too 😌

• it is being compared to him referencing his shoes before, picking up his shoes ( xie zi ) (xz) ; and now it’s another homophonic clue ( jm ) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

yes we know that you get to meet more often now cause you are both in Beijing! It’s so cool how their language can be used for so many things and you can play with it to send different meanings. international fans could never 💀💀💀💀

• talking about picking up and meeting, cpfs remembered ZZ’s 11/17/21 douyin post. It’s the one with him and a light saber and a sexy transformation. Going by his clothes, I’m thinking it was what he wore during the DC tencent conference and at the time of posting it was already considered as leftover. but I could be wrong, cause he might have worn other leather jackets that year for ads.

anyway, the point is — please compare the background of the rooms. the walls. you know. add the floor too. 👀

look, this isn’t the most unique type of interior. i would say it’s pretty basic like how we clown about hotel curtains. i’m guessing yibo’s is an evisu shoot sometime ago ( cause his hair is not that fluffy anymore idk if his stylist did something to make it like that even with his recent cut ). this place may be a studio of sorts that can be rented out and they just happen to have filmed there.

or… or…..

this could be XZS office. or one of their rented office. Why? this CPN is similar to the one in 2020. How we speculated that the birthday shoot was done in XZS office so ZZ could supervise the direction of the shoot too.

we also love to talk about how xzs and ybo office are right next to each other ( it’s a fact xzs is close to yuehua building actually ) so maybe that can be an explanation too 😂😂😂 it’s not uncommon for an office to have a separate space to do regular photoshoots so maybe theirs have that. or this could have been done after and wyb dropped off their office and took this.

hahahahahaha! so many explanations all because of a wall. that’s the kind of life we turtles have 🙃

Personally, i’m hoping for a 24 hour relay between them. 🙏🏼

-END.

[adiluv-moved]

❥ PHOTOGRAPHER + BUBBLY S/O HCS. ˚⊹꒷

☁️୧・꒰word count꒱ 1101.

⚜️୧・꒰warnings꒱ slightly rushed ꒰attempted to beat the 'not posting tonight' allegations꒱.

🪻୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! must say, i'm a big fan of joseph's beautiful gorgeous nature! apologies for those that don't have the hyacinth emoji available ꒰my laptop included꒱—i promise that this looks good on supported devices. still, i really loved this prompt, and i hope you enjoy! ꒰ ´ ˘ `꒱

꒰⚔️꒱・Joseph certainly would’ve never expected to find somebody as bright as you residing within the accursed Oletus Manor. Or, at the very least, somebody who was able to stay so bright even after discovering the true, disturbing nature of the game. Most others had been quick to fall into a state of despair ꒰even if temporary꒱ after coming to such a morbid realization, and while Joseph wasn’t taken too far aback by such knowledge—having had a hidden dark-side of his own—the repetitiveness of it did eventually manage to get to him. So seeing you, all optimistic and cheery, continuing to hold out hope for something better… for freedom… it ignited a spark of hope within him, shocking as it was.

꒰⚔️꒱・Truthfully, he really does admire your positive outlook on life, a sentiment that’s heightened if you’ve had a particularly difficult past. It’s easy to say that the manor’s appeal usually does arise from the desire to have a new life, something that—in its own, twisted way—does come true. This ability of yours to stay so kind, despite the hardships you’ve faced both in and outside of the manor, is one that he respects—especially knowing that such a thing couldn’t be true for himself.

꒰⚔️꒱・I imagine that Joseph would very much enjoy flustering you. There’s something so utterly interesting to him about the way that your normally loud demeanor vanishes whenever he flirts with you, instead replaced by a blushing, stammering mess. Much to your dismay, this task is one that proves to be relatively easy for the photographer, too—his previous life having required him to know how to charm people. After all, it’s much easier to find willing models when you know how to flatter them, no? But, of course, he means every word he tells you.

꒰⚔️꒱・As an extension of this, he also enjoys teasing you whenever you become flustered by his gestures of affection. Your reactions are just so… so adorable, really—he just can’t help but want to see the way you attempt to hide your reddened cheeks! He might even pinch them, too, assuming that he’s feeling especially playful. However, as much as he relishes in riling you up, he’s also quite good at understanding when he’s crossing the line—and he’ll be quick to stop himself if he notices that he’s taking things too far.

꒰⚔️꒱・I’ll be honest, you’ve dragged him onto the roller-coaster at Moonlit River Park at some point. He’s never really been the type to enjoy the circus—his status as a Count does place certain expectations on his shoulders, ones that he’s been taught since birth to uphold—so let me tell you… That ride absolutely broke him. While he would’ve attempted to maintain his composure at the beginning, he’d end up screaming his lungs out for a majority of the ride, hitting notes higher than you’d thought possible on the loop and cursing out a mix of both English and French loud enough for your teammates to hear.

꒰⚔️꒱・The poor man wasn’t even able to get out of the cart by the time that hellish experience was over, entire body trembling like a leaf during a hurricane as you attempted to pull him out. You were genuinely worried that he would’ve collapsed right then and there, and he had to brace himself against one of the metal posts at the coaster’s final station as he surrendered. Joseph would later make an attempt to keep the news of his embarrassing reactions under wrap, though Freddy wasted no time in informing your fellow survivors about the events of the match. I… wouldn’t be too shocked when he uses that map to reach his quota of serious games against you. 

꒰⚔️꒱・He’d rather be damned than allow anybody to destroy your cheerful personality, an attitude that applies to both the other survivors and his fellow hunters. For the most part, any sort of rudeness directed towards you isn’t something that he’ll address in the moment, instead preferring to watch from the sidelines and comfort you once they’ve left. Once your spirits have been restored, however, and he parts ways with you… his response becomes much different.

꒰⚔️꒱・Say what you want about him, but Joseph feels absolutely zero shame in targeting a survivor until they decide to apologize to you, and most other hunters already know that it’s a bad idea to try and go head-to-head with a trained ꒰and highly skilled꒱ fencer. He does take quite good care in maintaining his rapier, after all. 

꒰⚔️꒱・He’ll always encourage you to express yourself, even when you aren’t necessarily feeling all that positive about your current living situation. While he certainly does know that your positivity is a part of you, he also knows that it’s incredibly unhealthy for one to live life whilst not allowing themselves to express any sort of negative emotion. If you’d like to rant to him about something, or if you just feel like moping, then he’ll be glad to lend you an ear. Can’t have you bottling your feelings up, now can he? Especially not when he adores hearing that delightful voice of yours.

꒰⚔️꒱・Although he loves you, and is eternally grateful that you’d decided to accept the baron’s invitation—Joseph just can’t help but find it downright cruel that somebody as wonderful as you ended up stuck within such a horrible place. It’s a terrible twist of fate, in his eyes, that you’re forced to suffer through these games—possibly even for the rest of your life, seeing the ever growing amount of residents within the manor. This isn’t something that he talks about often, though he longs for nothing more than a life where the both of you could’ve met outside of Oletus’ doomed walls, regardless of how unlikely such a thing would be.

꒰⚔️꒱・In any case, it’s an idle fantasy that his mind simply can’t help but wander to every now and then—more so whenever the night approaches. His desire to cuddle with you often leads him to share your bed, thoughts often drifting to you as he holds your sleeping form in his arms. His dreams grant him no reprieve from such reveries, either, thoughts of a peaceful life with you plaguing his slumber. 

꒰⚔️꒱・How lovely it would be, in some sort of other life, to be back within his own manor—waking up in his room with you beside him, living blissfully without ever having to come in contact with the baron. The both of you could travel the town—country, even—if you wished, strolling around like one of those couples in his favorite paintings. Oh, if only there were a way to escape…

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[13a07s]

My Everything #2

(Shoyo Hinata)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to seranlynx]

Requested by: @l1l14i

Word Count: 3,275

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Cyber bullying (?)

Slight fighting

Weed (Fun fact, as of 2023 weed is still illegal in Japan but we're going to ignore that)

Alcohol

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I looked at the comments. I know Akaashi told me not to, but I did anyway, and it was the dumbest thing I could have done. Since looking, my eyes have been constantly scrolling over the thousands of comments.

     They look so cute!

     She's so lucky! I would kill to have @Hinata._.Shoyo on me like that!

     Do you think this is the mystery girlfriend?

     No wonder #21 never shuts up about her. I wouldn't either!

      Omg, there's a new hottest OTP in the volleyball world. @Bokuto.Koutaro and @Akaashi_Keiji better watch out

     Despite all the good comments praising the glimpse of our relationship, all the compliments thirsting over Shoyo and me, even the upright vail sexual things people wish to do to one or both of us, all I can focus on is the bad comments.

     Ew, that's the mystery girlfriend? I excepted... better

     She's chubby, for an athlete's girlfriend

     No wonder @Hinata._.Shoyo is so dedicated to his sport. If I had to go home to that I'd drown myself in volleyball too

     Gold digger if I've ever seen one

     @MSBY_Black_Jackal maybe get #21's eyes checked??? That is nowhere near the hottest woman alive. Even from the glanced photo, I can see a million needed improvements.

     What the hell is up with her hair???

     My hand jumps up to my head, tugging on my towel hat so it comes unraveling. Right after, my fingers run through my hair, working out some of the wet knots I haven't paid attention to since getting out of the shower. Shoyo likes my hair... I think. He likes it, right?

I haven't talked to Shoyo about the post yet. We were alone long enough for him to drop his bags before he and a few other Jackals went down to the hotel gym for their workout sessions. With me being alone in the room it's given me plenty of time to check the comments, unpack, check the comments, shave, check the comments, shower, and check the comments.

Since he was in such a rush to meet up with the team, he left his phone behind. That has given me time to ponder going on his phone and scrolling through what he's been tagged in that I haven't seen yet. I know the password, it's my birthday, and it's not like Shoyo would care. It still feels wrong doing it without asking, even if I know he doesn't mind.

     The girls' - and Akaashi's - group chat has been dinging every ten minutes or so. They've all been telling me to not look or reply to any of the comments, asking what room we're in so someone can sit with me until the boys get back, telling me I'm beautiful, that Shoyo loves me more than anything in this world.

     I've been ignoring their texts - and the occasional call - as much as I can, barely sparing them a glance. I know Shoyo loves me, that he thinks I'm beautiful. I also know he's a man and that he finds other girls beautiful too.

     I've looked at the profiles of some of the commenters, mostly the ones commenting on my weight or openly slutting themselves out to my boyfriend. A lot of them have been supermodel pretty. Supermodel skinny too. I keep trying to remind myself that those photos aren't natural. That they are photoshopped or filtered. That my photo with Shoyo hasn't been touched up. It was snapped and posted.

The hotel door beeps the click of the door opening following the approved key swipe. "Ya, ya, I'll ask the Mrs. I'll let you know. Ya, see you soon," Shoyo rambles to one of his teammates, slowly sliding his way into the room. "Hey baby," he greets, tone instantly softening and his face relaxing at the sight of me.

     "Hi," I snip back, casting my eyes to my phone again, rolling over a comment made of a line of throw-up emojis and the words 'His humbleness isn't the only thing he took from the Karasuno dirt fields'. Maybe I'm reading into it but I'm pretty sure they're trying to call me hick without actually saying it.

Shoyo shifts his body weight, eyes glancing around the room before they're set on me again. "So, Atsumu and some of the other guys and gals are going down to the bar around seven. He invited us to join... you want to go?"

"No."

Concern flickers across his face, quickly drowned out by a smile. "Alright," Shoyo answers, shrugging his shoulders before making his way toward me. "A night in with you and a movie sounds good too," he tries, kicking his shoes off before crawling onto the bed.

I spare him a glance before fixating on the post again. 'How the hell did THAT bag @Hinata._.Shoyo???' rolls across the screen, adding another drop of emotion to the puddle collecting in my chest.

"You're my everything," Shoyo coos, nuzzling his nose against my neck, the tips of his hair tickling my skin. "You know that, right?" He asks, pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw.

"Ya."

"Do you?" He asks again, arching up so he can lock his sight with my eyes, his nose brushing against mine. "You've been... I don't know. Not you since we've gotten here. Bokuto said Akaashi is worried about you," he slowly pushes out, his fingertips on my thigh, toying with the end of the towel I'm still wrapped in.

"I'm fine, Shoyo," I mutter, moving my legs away from him. When his hand grips me tighter instead of falling off, I push it off myself.

Sadness flickers in his soft eyes for a moment, quickly replaced with concern. "Is this about the picture of us?" Shoyo asks, using his grip on my leg to pull me back to him. He snatches my phone from me, glancing at it for a moment before throwing it on the bed.

     "You know about it?" I ask, a bit dumbfounded. There's no way he knows about it. There's no way he knows about it and hasn't told me about it let alone talked to me about it. I haven't talked to him about it because I haven't had the chance to yet. Not because I just haven't.

     "Of course I do. I've known about it since, I don't know, less than five minutes after it was posted. I was tagged in it and I've gotten a new mention in the comments every ten seconds."

     I sit frozen, staring at my confused boyfriend. He's an idiot, right? Like, legally an idiot. He has to be. "What the fuck, Shoyo?" I mutter, my words coming out slow but heavily.

     "I didn't want you to worry about it. I figured - "

     "You figured what? If you didn't say anything about it I wouldn't find out about it?"

     Sho stays quiet for a few moments, a loose smile on his lips as his eyes wander across my face. "I figured sooner or later the public was going to get a picture of us. You look sexy as hell in the one they got, so why freak out about it?"

     "Have you not read the comments?"

     "I have," he hums, head tumbling downward so his lips can crash against my bare shoulders. "'Damn number twenty-one is lucky'. 'If that's the type of girlfriend volleyball players have, sign me up'. 'No wonder Hinata never shuts up about her'. 'Shit man, if my girlfriend looked like that I'd praise her with every breath I had to offer'. 'If I had a girl like that, I'd make her my everything too'," he quotes, little kisses being littered across any bare inch of skin he can get to.

     "Those aren't the comments I'm talking about," I whisper, quickly losing hold of my anger, on my sadness.

     "Baby," he whispers in my ear, nuzzling the side of my face as his hands rub my thighs, his tight grip closing on my flesh every few seconds. "You are my everything, do you know what that means? It means to me you're perfect. I love your hair, I love how it catches the sun, I love how it feels, how it smells, how it looks."

     "I love your curves, I love the dips and twists and every inch of your body. You could be a hundred pounds heavier or a hundred pounds lighter and I'd still love the shape of you."

     Shoyo's kisses fall toward my neck. He nudges at my chin until I tip my head backward, giving him more space to run his lips over. "I love every birthmark, every scar, every inch of your skin. I love your smile, your eyes, your soul, your laugh. Every second possible I spend thinking of you. Thinking of this gorgeous body, of your loving personality."

     His praises are dripping with his admiration of me, drips that fall into the puddle in my chest, slowly but surely eating away at all the negativity that's been building up. "If you ever left me, if you ever decided we were done, that would be it for me. I would never be with another person again. I'd simply play volleyball until I couldn't anymore and then spend the rest of my days wallowing in Rio, waiting for you to want me again."

     "You're my everything, baby. You've been my everything since the first day I saw you since my eyes fell on the pissy girl with braids in her hair that tried fighting the frappuccino machine because it wouldn't work. You are my everything. You know that. I make sure you know that, and if you don't, I need you to tell me you don't. Tell me you don't feel like my everything if that's what's happening. Tell me so I can remind you, so I can fix it, do you understand?"

     "Ya, I understand," I murmur, my mind foggy from the mix of Shoyo's praises and the feeling of his lips leaving my skin on fire.

     "Good," he whispers against my jaw, a line of kisses leading up to the delicate kiss laid on my lips. "You are my everything, baby. Without you, I'm not even sure I can breathe. I am lucky to have you in my life, and I am thankful for every day I wake up next to you."

     My eyes sting with the threat of tears, a threat that's fulfilled quickly. "Oh, baby," Shoyo coos, kisses instant back in action to brush away the water leaking from my eyes. "Don't cry. I hate seeing you cry."

     Giggles slowly spill out, mixing with my tears as I replay the last line of his love speech. "Sho? What the hell are you going to put in your vows that could top that?"

     "I'll just reuse it," he teases, his laughter easily mixing with mine. "Now, drinks with the gals and the guys?"

     "Drinks with the gals and the guys," I agree, stealing another kiss from him.

                      ————————————

Shoyo's arm is around my shoulders, keeping me pressed close to him as he coats my hair in kisses. With every ding of a passing floor, my heart seems to beat faster. I'm always nervous going out in public with my boyfriend, but with the recent shining light of the public on me, I'm more nervous than usual. Pair that with the fact I'm sure every hotel in Shizuoka is swimming with fans and you have a disaster waiting to happen.

     I don't like the attention or the million cameras or the public in general, which is why Sho usually goes to these things alone and I show up the day of the game. At least for away games. Home games are easier to deal with. But, he begged me to come with him this time so I gave in. That was a dumb decision.

"You're fine, baby. Paparazzi and such aren't allowed on private property. Fans are all we'll have to deal with and most of the time they're too star-struck to notice much. You'll slip into the bar as easy as usual." Blind optimism at its finest, but I can't help but hope that he's right.

     When the final ding comes, Shoyo tugs my hood up for me, helping to hide some of myself. His arm falls too, his fingers instantly finding mine and sliding themselves in place. My heart races with the sound of the elevator doors opening, my stomach turning in tone with the two noises.

     Instantly, a million clicks and cellphone flashes go off, the crowd of fans yelling his last name, asking a million questions. Some are simple questions asking for photos or about the game tomorrow, others are centered toward the recent photo of us. Shoyo simply smiles, stepping forward to block me from the crowd as he answers some of the simpler questions.

     Slowly, he leads me out of the elevator, trying his best to inch around the crowd toward the bar. Within seconds, Bokuto appears situating himself next to Shoyo and in front of me too. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't forget Hinata isn't the only spiker on the team," the bigger man booms, glancing behind himself to send me a smile.

     The two beefy men in front of me continue the slow and stretched-out walk to the bar, the three of us shuffling like penguins to get to the entrance. Sadly, the bar has an open construct; no door, just an open wall with a velvet 'fence' to close it off for the Jackals to use tonight.

     "Hey," Akaashi greets, nodding at the worker to unclip the makeshift gate.

     "Hey," I greet back, stepping through before glancing at Shoyo. Bokuto and him are still taking pictures and answering questions, only two or three steps away from me. "I don't like coming to these things."

     Akaashi shrugs, watching our goofballs with me. "It's a lot at first but over time you get used to it. Just don't do anything stupid, like have dry sex in a car," he teases, a soft grin on his face as he spares me a glance. "And you'll be fine."

     "Ya, that was pretty dumb of us."

     That gets a laugh out of him, and a bigger smile. "If it makes you feel any better, Kotaro's and my first 'scandal' happened because someone got a photo of me helping him button his shirt as we left a restaurant bathroom. He spilled red wine on his shirt so I helped him clean it but of course, the media turned it into us having a quickie." That does help, a lot more than I thought it would.

     "Shit happens. Scandals happen or get fabricated. There's no point hiding in the dark forever because that just leaves more for the imagination. The hard part is done. The world has proof of you. Hot ass proof." That makes me giggle, a few soft chuckles leaving Akaashi as well. "Hey, even the coach's wife said she'd leave him for you."

     "She did not," I manage to get out, more laughter mixing with my words.

     "She did too, which you would know if you answered any of our texts."

     "I was busy wallowing in sadness and self-pity."

     Akaashi shrugs again, his grin falling from his face, his usual resting bitch face back on. "That happens too. Half the world will love you and the other half will hate you regardless of what you say or what photos they get of you. Just got to roll with it."

     "Did you smoke a blunt before coming down here?" All the partners of the players have different ways of dealing with the stress of publicity they and their player have. Some smoke, some use weed like Akaashi, and some just enjoy their partner's hefty wallets and use retail as a means to cope. I'm not sure what I'm going to use to cope yet, but at the moment a few hits of what Akaashi is on sounds like a nice and quick way to chill out.

     "I had an edible. I don't have anymore so you're going to have to be sober or drink."

     "Drinking it is then," I mutter, letting my eyes scan over the growing group of Jackals paying attention to their fans right outside the bar.

     Akaashi and I stand inside the entrance, still blocked from the fans' view by the team members. If this is how people act at the hotel, the gym is going to be insane tomorrow.

"Alright, alright, I promised my everything a drink so I got to go guys. I hope to see you all tomorrow," Shoyo's voice rises above the chaos, the ginger starting to back up from the crowd. Being cut off only makes the crowd louder, the rest of the members quickly follow to avoid the uproar.

As soon as he's through the cloth fence, Shoyo's arms are around me, burying me into himself as he drags me further into the bar. My head pops out from his arms when I'm no longer forced into movement. "There's my everything," he coos, pecking my lips as he loosens his hold.

We - and the rest of the team - are tucked away in the furthest and darkest corner of the bar, safe away from the crowd still at the entrance. Greetings are thrown around, a few "you two looked sexy in your picture" mixed in. Everyone answered with a "damn right" by Sho.

Shoyo's hands are on me at all times, even as we sit with everyone else. Hand on my thigh, in my hair, toying with my fingers, anyway he can touch me he does. "You're beautiful," he whispers, his hand jumping up to push my hood off.

     "Thank you," I answer, taking his hand in mine before resting it in my lap. He's antsy, like always, but more so than usual since he's still worked up from my meltdown. Having his hands wandering over my body isn't going to help much with our scandal.

His movements stall for a moment, his brain ticking at what to do before his soft touches are replaced with butterfly kisses. My cheeks heat up more with every kiss he litters my skin with. "Honey, we're with people," I murmur, trying to shrug him off.

"So?" He whines, shaking his hand out of mine so he can wrap his arms around my waist, pulling both me and the chair closer to him. "You're my everything. With so many people around, so many people having proof you exist, I want to remind everyone that you are my everything. Always have been, always will be."

     "Gross," one of the older members tease, fake gagging until his wife smacks him upside the head, paired with a whispered lecture and an ear pull.

     Shoyo giggles, nuzzling my head until I turn it enough for him to kiss me. Slowly I let myself give into the gentle kiss, letting my adoring boyfriend melt away all the stress of the day. "My beautiful, perfect everything," he sighs, pecking my lips once more before pulling away from me. "Anyway, we should get a round of shots to drink to our future victory over EJP."

     The team cheers at the offer, one of the members flagging down a server to take the order. A smile plays on Shoyo's face, his hand enveloping mine again to raise it, kisses being peppered across my knuckles. It's hard to believe just an hour ago I was convinced I was nothing to him. Even in moments where his focus is on the team, on volleyball, I'm still at the forefront of his mind. I'm still his everything.

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[carryonafi]

bring me back to you.

luke hemmings x reader; post-tour fluff

omg hiiii guys, another mini blurb for yall while i work on ways to continue social casualty. mwah.

request from a friend by the way

words: 1.2k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Rumors were to rise when you were in a relationship with someone at any level of fame, it wasn’t always easy. Never easy. Fights happen, hearts are broken, but at the end of the day you always circle back.

Being in the house alone was a bit of a task, juggling college classes and a job while the empty space of your heart ached and could only be temporarily filled with a FaceTime call or a few quick texts a day. It wasn’t enough, you needed that boy home. Tour dragged on and on, a few weeks seemed like a few months and even longer when the day he came home got closer. You were waiting, waiting patiently for the warm comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace, patiently for the butterflies you got when he kissed your temple and told you how much he missed you. The only thing you really had keeping you going was that want, knowing that it was coming sooner rather than later.

The evening dragged just like the rest of the tour, waiting for that text telling you that they had landed back home, a picture of the boys in an escort car, waiting to be in his arms one more time. You were especially feeling it now, because, well… the rumors. The groupie rumors, the ones that you knew weren’t true because not a single one of those guys would dare to let you live with the fact that you were the typical rockstar girlfriend at home while the “real” rockstar did his thing. However, that text finally came. A smile began to tug at your lips at the sweet warning ending with a heart emoji and a picture of Calum sleeping with his head resting against the window of the car, Luke’s shoulder just barely in the frame.

After responding, you momentarily left your phone unattended in the other room as you envisioned that they were still near the airport with how long it took Luke to send that text. Though, you paused hearing something from the living room. A soft jingle, sounds of wood creaking and door hinges, another pause. You shut off the water from the bathroom sink which had obstructed your hearing of the noises most of the way, then rushed out of the fluorescent lit bathroom. His shirt fell off of your shoulders, the hem ending just underneath your hips but hey, who were you looking decent for? It was your house, but now you weren’t alone. Luke.

He stared at you for a beat, then dropped his bag and came striding forward with no hesitation. You met him in the middle with a breath of relief, arms wrapping around his torso as your hands balled up his shirt between your fingers and palms. You twisted your head to the side, the patter of Luke’s heartbeat against your ear as you gripped onto him like he’d disappear if you let go. His hands did the same, finding the small of your back within seconds and slowly tracing from there up your spine. With his nose pressed into your hair, he began to rub slow, continuous circles into your back. You mumbled his name, to which his hold on you tightened.

“Missed you so much.” Was all he said, simple words in a tone that told you everything. You had a discussion about the rumors before, it was tense but not quite an argument. You believed every word he said, though. There was honest worry that these possibilities of cheating were true, but Luke was insistent on his inability to do so, as well as the rest of the band.

You hummed in response, fighting to have him let you go a bit so you could angle your head to look up at him. He was here, right in front of you, alive and well. “That was a very quick trip from the airport.” You poked, giggling as the expression on his face changed immediately into a broken smile.

“Aww, I’m so glad you missed me too.” Luke half-way rolled his eyes, leaning into you to hover over your lips for a moment. There it was, the connection you had been craving. Your hands followed his chest, up his shoulders and neck to cup his cheeks as your lips pressed together multiple times within those few seconds.

“I did. I did miss you.” You said between kisses, getting the same smile out of Luke again and a gentle hum in the form of a giddy laugh. “Tired, yeah?” Holding your boyfriend’s face, you tried to get him to stop occupying your lips with his for a moment. His eyelids fluttered, holding back a yawn as he nodded. There was a lazy grin on his face when another tired sound made its way from behind his closed lips.

Butterflies. Goddamn butterflies as you stared up at him with eyes full of admiration and love.

You just turned around to lead Luke away from the main room and his bag, down the hall to your shared bedroom. Before you could get far, his arms were back around you in an instant — but it was just enough that you could walk fine. “Just wanna lay with you, hate sleepin’ without you…” He made you stumble a bit as he leaned some of his weight on you, lips pressed to your hair whispering hushed sweet nothings and kissing your head.

“/Luke/.” You chuckled, stopping in the middle of the dim hallway. “We’re getting there, but I’m not getting very far with you all over me..” You teasingly warned him with a knowing smile, to which Luke sighed and let you start walking again. As you entered the bedroom, he let his arms untangle to free himself of his bottoms and hoodie which left him in boxers. He was on the bed and halfway under the blankets before you even got a chance to turn around, you smiled to yourself at the sight. Approaching him, you analyzed everything. Luke Hemmings. His perfect nose, sharp point and strong bridge, caramel sweet freckles dusted the tip and then faded once they reached just under his eyes. They returned in his cheeks, warm, soft. So fucking soft. His eyes opened when you couldn’t resist any longer and reached out to smooth over his cheekbone, encouraging your touch by subconsciously leaning in. Luke’s hair wasn’t done up anymore, the style had gone floppy which made him look so much younger, innocent. The only thing saving him was the stubble that scratched the pad of your thumb. He mumbled something that you could make out as an “I love you”, then something else along those lines. Your name followed soon after, you moved in closer to lay down all the way next to him. Those lips of his which you called yours could barely make another sound due to his drowsiness, pink and decorated with the black ring on the left side. Well… his left.

You were glad more than anything that he was home, hands around your hips again as he fell asleep with his face pressed into your hair. His fascination with your hair.. it was so strange, but so endearing. You didn’t need any further reassurance that he was yours, you were prepared to lay here for the next few days for as long as possible as he recovered from the lack of your presence and the exhaustion of tour. Just as long as he was beside you.

[emeryhiro]

Thank you so much for answering my questions last week!! Your answers were so insightful and interesting, and have made me even more excited for the book of carol!!

That's awesome to hear that you're more confident about caryl canon after watching ep one. I totally agree with you about how them being alone will open up opportunities for it in a way it never has before. And i agree that if it doesn't happen, it's probably because Melissa & Norman don't want it (which I'd be super disappointed about but would respect their choice). But from everything I've seen, i also think they do want things to go in that direction!

Haha emotional and unhinged are great words to describe caryl in general! And I'm excited for nostalgia. The emojis are intriguing! They're making me think Carol blows up a plane, hopefully once she's safely in France lol! And that's interesting about how the people at the nest treat Daryl, that also frustrated me in s1!

I had a couple of other questions but no worries if you can't answer any of them:

1 Do we see anything specifically relating to Carol from Daryl's pov in this ep? Or is he talking generally about 'people at home'?

2 What did you think of the opening credits?

3 Did you see the ep title? I'm really curious about what that might be!

4 Where would you rank the ep in terms of your fave twd eps?

Thanks again for everything you've shared! I love how you've given us hopeful teasers without spoiling the details!

Hey Anon ♡

You're so welcome!!! I've been having a lot of fun answering your questions, so feel free to let me know if you have any others, and to be honest, I'm happy with any excuse to talk about Caryl 😅

Mild spoiler warning for my response to question 1 ♡

1) No, there was no situation where Daryl directly spoke about Carol. However, I do think there's a good reason for it, which I've spoken about in detail in a previous post [HERE]. It's also important to note the screen time division; episode one is about 85% Carol and 15% Daryl, so we don't get many scenes with him and very little dialogue. The dialogue that we do hear from him sounds very frustrated and resentful as if he's tired of being held back by the Nest and wants to leave as soon as possible (like he's rushing a resolution for the conflict in France).

The line below that we hear in the teaser is actually in episode 1, and it's the only time he references anything about home.

"I don't know if this is the place I'm supposed to be. I've been thinking about all the people I left behind, wondering if they're still thinking about me."

This is then followed by a few other lines where, in no uncertain terms, he says that he doesn't think he'd ever be happy at the nest.

2) I loved the opening credits; there were some really nice animated scenes of Carol that I really liked, and my favourite is the closing shot of the opening credits which is one of Carol and Daryl together. 🥰

3) No, unfortunately, I don't remember seeing or hearing anything about the episode title. But I think they'll announce the title either during San Diego or the following week, but most probably during the next screening of episode one that's being held on the 26th of July (tonight).

4) Honestly, episode 1 is now my favourite episode of TWD. It hit all the right emotional notes and delved deep into Carol's mindset, which is way overdue. It also had the walker action and suspense that left me on the edge of my seat (literally) the entire time. Melissa is incredibly talented and has everything it takes to play a leading character, especially one like Carol, who has so much depth and layers.

I have no doubt that the rest of the episodes will be just as good, if not better, especially the reunion episode!! And I'm confident that this season will be my favourite of all time, from any show.

~~~~

Thanks again for the questions! Once again, they were a joy to answer😊🩵 I'm sorry if this was a little delayed. I've been very busy with my uni finals during the past couple of weeks, and I wanted to wait until I had enough time to give your questions proper responses.

Also, I can't believe today is the day we finally see the trailer!!! I'm SO EXCITED, and my brain/emotions are already on overdrive. I also apologise in advance 'cause I already know I'm gonna be over analysing it and sharing my thoughts as soon as I can 😅

[winterweary]

Mammon + 🍓🦇 MC?

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, babe, it’s pretty n’ all but what are we waitin’ for…?”

“Shh, be patient! You’ll see.”

You grin at the face Mammon makes, ‘Be Patient’ one of his least favorite phrases, right after ‘Compounding Interest’ and ‘Stay’. The two of you are seated on a grassy hillside in the human world, looking out over a small park through which a rugged river was slugging through.

“I want to bring somewhere special,” you had told him, “Somewhere I used to go when I was a kid.” Mammon of course was happy for any excuse to get you all to himself, and chance to go off on a proper date with you sealed the deal. He’d been buzzing all day, trying to guess where and what this special thing was as you’d biked through town, ate a lazy lunch and just did…normal date stuff. It was almost breathtaking how comforting it was, to get him alone and just be a couple like any other for a day.

“Ooooh, do we get to eat those now?” Mammon lit up as you pulled out the strawberries you had picked out at a farmer’s market with him.

“Mammon, I saw you sneak at least three before we even got here.”

“Whaaaat? Me? Nah, must be some other Mammon you’re thinkin’ of…”  You rolled your eyes playfully, and he grinned, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into his side. Lifting a strawberry to his lips, you watched him nip it from your fingers then picked up another for yourself. They were delicious, both sweet and tart, right at the end of their growing season and warm from baking in the sun all day.

“Mmm, not bad,” Mammon hums, nuzzling even closer to you, “Reminds me of somethin’ else sweet I like…”

“Not now!” you laugh again, shoving Mammon away as he fought you cover your neck with messy kisses, “Mammon! We’re gonna miss it! Look…”

With a dramatic, beleaguered sigh, Mammon lifted his head and loosened his grasp on you, following your indication to note that the park had begun to fill with other onlookers. The spot you’d brought him to, however, remained rather private, the secret location well-kept in your family.

“Everyone’s here to watch the sunset?” Mammon asked curiously, noticing now that the sky had begun to burn with oranges and golds.

“No – oh! Look! There was one!” you gasped, grabbing his knee and pointing again. There, from a crooked point in the riverbed, a single black shape came tumbling up into the air. Mammon leaned forward curiously, squinting to try and mark what it was.

Then, with a cheer from the gathered crowd, there was a rush. Spilling into the sky, tumbling together as one and many, bats gushed from their cave. Their chirps filled the air, the sheer volume never failing to surprise, and for a moment the sunset was obscured by their dance. Mammon, squeezed at your arm, and you tore your gaze away to take in his look of awe (with a hint of nervousness). It reminded you of the first time your mother had brought you here, when you were small enough still to be carried. How magical it had seemed, watching these creatures tumbling and twisting, a throng never crashing into one another or falling to the earth.

The moment stretched on, the movements hypnotizing. Then there was a softening, almost like an exhale, and the bats dispersed into the night. You and Mammon continued to watch silently, until the sky had darkened to blue twilight and you could no longer pick out any bats in the sky. Only then did Mammon move to pick up a strawberry and bring it to your mouth, waiting for you to bite the sweet fruit before dipping his head for a long kiss.

“Worth it?” you asked softly, wrapping your arms around his neck as he set the berries aside and dipped you down over the grass.

“With you? Always.”

-

Send me an Obey Me Character and an Emoji (or two) and I'll write a ficlet or HC post for them.

[tangyangie]

» LOVE SONG ♪

character(s): spencer reid (insert nerd emoji)

genre(s): fluffier than that one cheesecake recipe

description: f!reader, established relationship, i stole this idea from a tv show you don’t know

notes: here you go you little eggshell (this is aimed)

im never posting this (maybe for valentines idk)

god this is so long

“valentines is coming up, loverboy.”

“how’s your gift to your little y/n-poo coming along??”

“stop teasing me, you guys.” reid sighed, overwhelmed by his indecisiveness to choose a gift for you.

penelope and derek acted like kindergarteners with a friend who had a crush, kicking their legs and giggling. “oh, i know!” penelope exclaimed. “you should bake her a pie with all the numbers of pi on it!”

“you’re so creative.” spencer deadpanned.

“ooh, i have a better idea!” derek chimed in. “you should write her a letter with that one heart graph equation on it.”

“why is that one so horrible?!” spencer complained. “you know what, never mind. i’ll figure it out myself.” he sighed, trudging out of the office. “good night, everyone.”

»»»

“hey, spence! i’m home.”

quickly putting away his computer, he rushed to the door to greet you.

“hey. how was work?” he asked, smiling at you as he took your things and set them down, allowing you to stretch and walk to your bedroom.

“exhausting. how about you?” you laughed.

“about the same.” he stated, doing his best to shield your valentine’s day gift from you.

“…spencer, you’ve never been good at hide and seek.” you giggled.

“how did you-“

“doesn’t take a profiler to read someone like a book, love.”

“actually, studies show-“

“shush. what is that?” you questioned.

“huh? it’s nothing, don’t worry. it’s not important. nothing special.”

“i didn’t even suggest that it was something special, yet you just denied it was twice. now… at least a hint?”

“no, y/n! i can’t tell you yet!” he laughed, attempted to conceal the pile of papers behind he back, you trying to slither around him to steal a glimpse of at least one.

“oh, i see.” you giggled. “is this for the certain holiday that’s coming up on the 14th of this month?”

“possibly?”

“alright, i’ll leave you alone… for now.”

sighing, he waited for you to walk out of the bedroom. he turned his back, stacking the papers together to put them somewhere you wouldn’t find it.

“by the way, your gift is ready.” you smiled, popping your head in the doorway.

smiling, he walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, ruffling your hair. “thank you, y/n.”

»»»

“you’re doing what??” penelope gaped.

derek was laughing so hard, he swore he was going to fall right there and be sucked into the floor and attacked by carpet particles.

“did you listen to a word we said, reid??” penelope was in disbelief.

derek continued wheezing.

“i get it, morgan!” spencer exclaimed.

“y/n isn’t going to fall for the genius-y stuff, reid!! i’ve seen her enough to know she wants something from the heart, not your huge head.”

“a mathematically.. perfect.. song??” derek managed to squeeze between laughs.

“it’s not that bad of an idea!” spencer argued.

“yes, it is!” emily chimed in.

“you too??” spencer whined.

“if you’re gonna write her a song, you need to tell her what you actually feel. and please, please, please, don’t mention her ass.” penelope said with a frustrated look.

the more the group stayed on this topic, the harder it would become for morgan to even attempt to calm down.

the rest of the day, spencer tried to figure out something else. something where math or “genius-y stuff”, as penelope said, wouldn’t come into the equation.

maybe he would have to come up with it all by himself.

»»»

“this is stupid.” he sighed, throwing away yet another piece of paper with seemingly meaningless lyrics.

“aww, what’s wrong, spence?” emily asked, noticing the very audible ‘this is stupid’ from across the room.

“nothing, everything’s fine.”

“are you still writing that song for y/n?”

“..not the same one, but still a song, yes.”

“ooh, are those original lyrics?? if you’re a genius in everything else, you must at least be a lyrical genius as well!” emily scampered over, eager to take a look.

“wait-!”

emily snatched the papers before spencer could react. “aww, spence!! these are so cute!! y/n’s gonna love this!”

“the song’s not finished, and the lyrics aren’t good,”

“they’re amazing, reid! i’m sure y/n will spin in circles when she hears this.”

“i barely have the melody! what makes you guys think i can finish a whole song in less than a week?”

“we can always help,” penelope joined in, looking as though hearts were going to start pouring out of her eyes.

"i thought it was supposed to be from my heart, not your heart." reid joked.

"hey, you were the one who was complaining about how long it was going to take. besides, the lyrics are all yours, we can just help with the actual music." derek suggested.

"besides, no matter how many PhDs you have, it's a little difficult to play 10 instruments at once and have it in time with everything else." emily poked.

"fine, i'm convinced. just don't embarrass me."

»»»

“i don’t think i’ve ever had a work day more exhausting than that.” emily sighed, out of breath.

“i agree. reid, why did you need to make the chorus so long??” penelope chimed in.

“it’s not my fault you volunteered to help.” spencer huffed.

“well, now that we’re finished, how about we go eat and go home?” derek got up from the slumping position on the table.

everyone agreed, so they all enjoyed dinner and drinks at a small restaurant, while brainstorming more ideas of what spencer could do for valentine’s day.

“don’t you guys also need to focus on your own valentine’s day??” spencer rolled his eyes.

“there’s plenty of time for that. now, i think you should get y/n a giant, fluffy, huge cake that says-“

»»»

“so, today’s the day, loverboy.”

“are you going to give it to her?”

“have you hinted it to her at all?”

reid’s head was collapsed on his desk, overwhelmed by the thoughts that you might not like your gift.

“what if i edited something wrong?” spencer started questioning. “what if there’s something in the background??”

“reid, you’re literally a genius. you would’ve known if there’s something wrong.” emily laughed.

“but, what if-“

“shh! reid, even if the song is so atrocious that she’d throw up, she still loves you so much that she’d probably listen to it millions of times if you asked her to!” penelope argued.

“no, she’s very particular about her music taste.”

“but she’s also particular about you!”

“but-“

“listen. you’re gonna go and give the song to her and she’s going to love it, and she’ll kiss you as many times there are notes.”

“but-“

“shut up!”

“...”

»»»

you returned home from work, excited to give spencer his gift. or, more specifically, take him to his gift.

“hey, spence,” you sang. “ready for your gift?”

“one second, y/n!” he shouted lightly from the other side of the house.

“what’s going on in here?” you smiled, stepping past the threshold into the dimly lit room.

“y/n!” spencer jumped. “i’m..”

“is this… a cassette tape?” you asked, sliding next to him.

“…yes.”

“for me?”

silently, you slid your fingers to his hand.

“..yes.” he whispered. “it’s not..”

he struggled to find the words.

“..finished?”

“no, it’s finished, it’s just…”

you leaned into his side. “show me, spence,” you hushed. “i’m sure it’s not that bad.” you joked.

“that’s rude,” he said, smiling, he tentatively pressed the play button.

»»»

“spencer, it’s-“

“i know, it’s bad. it sucks, i’m aware.” he groaned, his head in his hands.

“no!!” you laughed. “spencer, it’s beautiful! you made a whole song for me??”

turning back around, he looked relieved. “i..” he spoke, not knowing how to react.

you stepped over to him, grabbed his hands, and said, “spence, thank you. i love it.” you smiled.

“y/n-”

“shush.” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, before finally connecting them.

slightly breathing in, you could feel spencer’s chest slightly relax. you interlocked your fingers with his, reaching one hand to cup his face.

slowly rocking, he wrapped his arms around you, slowly bringing you closer and breathing in your scent.

“alright, alright,” you say, breaking apart. “now, get ready for your gift. how do you feel about dinner?”

oh my god.

that’s the longest thing i’ve ever written

not even for english class have i written something that’s longer than that

side note i just found out matthew gray gubler plays simon in alvin and the chipmunks 😭😭

[xbunny-k]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-EIGHT – Anastasia? Are You Ok?

This is part TWENTY EIGHT of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: *this next entry will discuss an abusive relationship (emotional and physical) can DM you a recap w/out that part of the story if you need!* Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @pennyroyalcreep (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx

The next few days at work fly by as I’m busy preparing to be out of office for over a week to travel to Memphis with Austin, Baz and a few other people from Baz’s team. By the time it’s Friday night, I regret making plans tonight with my friends, but it’ll be good to see them and decompress from work a bit. I change into a black dress after getting ready for the night with my friend Nicole. I’ve been drinking a bit while getting ready and decide to take some pictures and actually post on Instagram, which is not very on brand for me. I giggle posting the photos thinking they’re a bit risqué of me in a mini dress on the bed, but who cares.

A few hours later, we’re leaving dinner with a group of friends and head out to a club, which is not my thing at all, but it’s for our friend Justin’s birthday. Awhile after being on the dance floor and drinking a bit, I decide to sit down and check my phone. As soon as I see the notifications, I feel like I sober up a bit. 3 texts from Kelsey, she’s with us, why is she texting me? 5 texts from Austin, I….

I decide to open Kelsey’s texts first since it’s weird she’s texting me since she’s with us, but she runs over to me before I can read them. “Ana, did you see what I sent you?! Why is he commenting on your Instagram. Like he deleted it, but still,” she screams over the music pulsating through the club. “What,” I yell back at her. She points at my phone before sitting down next to me. Her texts look panicked starting with, “OMG!” to “ANA!!!” and then finally a screenshot of my Instagram. Austin had commented a red heart emoji. I feel myself blush but try to hide it from my best friend.

I then realize I had texts from Austin. I rush to open them but try to shield them from Kelsey who is right next to me.

“Ok, I went to the grocery store and you’re going to think I’m crazy for how much stuff I bought.”

“I know we’re hanging out tomorrow, but what are you up to tonight?” “Your post…you look really great.”

“Where are you headed tonight?”

“Sorry for all the texts, I started drinking with some friends and…I just wanted to talk to you.”

I smile at the last one because I too want to talk to him. I kinda miss him even though we spent a lot of time together this week… As I’m deep in thought about texting Austin back, I see the last person I would ever want to see. What is he doing here? I need out of here.

I feel Kelsey grab my arm and I look at her. It’s the look best friends know what it means right away, “No I’m not ok, we need to leave.” She nods and grabs her purse and I follow suit, but as we’re getting up, my ex, Brandon, approaches me and leans down whispering into my ear, “Oh hey, Anaaa. You look good.” I roll my eyes and nod as politely as I can while gripping onto Kelsey’s arm for dear life.

I look over at my friend Justin and yell over the music, “I’m sorry to leave early on your birthday, but we’re gonna head out!” He comes over and whispers in my ear, “I don’t know why he’s here; I don’t even know the last time I talked to him…” I shrug and hug him as I try to make my way out. Before I can get away from our table, Brandon comes up and tries to pull me away from Kelsey. Kelsey pulls me on the other side of her, placing herself between me and my ex as she shouts at him, “Not tonight, Brandon. Just leave her alone.” Apparently, this is loud enough to get a bouncer’s attention as a bouncer makes his way over to us. I make eye contact with the bouncer and then look at Brandon and it seems the bouncer understands as he goes to ask Brandon to leave.

Kelsey and I try to leave the area, but with a rope tying off the area, we get a little stuck. Brandon comes up behind me following the bouncer and says loudly for anyone to hear, “You look good for a slut. Anyone want an easy time? Look over here.” I try to hide myself out of embarrassment for the scene he’s causing and to hide my expression from Kelsey. I don’t want her to see he still has the ability to make me feel so small. We broke up a while ago after I finally realized he was being abusive to me and it’s taken me time to heal, but his words still hurt. Kelsey pulls me out and before I know it, we’re in an Uber headed to my place.

Once we get back to my place, she offers to come up, but I just tell her I’m tired and gonna go to sleep. I promise to text her the next day and then head upstairs. The minute I get inside I slide down the other side of the door and just burst into tears. It’s not so much what my ex was yelling, just the place it brought me back to. I work so hard to not think about my past and anything that happened with Brandon but seeing him and feeling his grip on my arm. I feel my phone vibrate in my bag and pull it out. It’s just Kelsey letting me know she got home and to call her if I need her. I gasp for breath in between tears and switch from my messages to the phone call screen and before I know it, I’m waiting for an answer.

Eventually, I hear Austin say, “Anastasia? Are you ok? It’s so late.” There’s no way he can’t hear my tears as he then just asks, “Are you at home?” I nod and realize he can’t see me nodding, but I cannot bring myself to stop crying as I just whimper out, “Yyy-es.”

He firmly responds, “I’m on my way, I’ll be there in 15 minutes, ok, Anastasia?”

In what feels like no time at all, Austin arrives to my apartment and softly knocks on the door. I’m still sitting on the floor right against the door, so I just slide up and open the door. Austin is in a t-shirt and sweat shorts and his face falls as soon as he sees me. “Oh, Anastasia, what’s wrong,” he asks as he walks in my apartment and closes the door behind him. He pulls me in immediately into a hug and whispers, “It’s okay, baby. Let’s get you to bed.” He kisses the top of my head and guides me to my room. “Do you wanna take your shoes off and I’ll get you something comfy to wear,” he asks, but I grab his arm. “Don’t go, please,” I quietly beg. I slide out of my heels and lay down on my bed. Austin sits in the space next to me and I can feel him looking at me trying to figure out what to do or say.

Ana, you need to say something. He isn’t your boyfriend, but you called him and begged him to come over.

I tune my thoughts out as I don’t have the energy to be thinking about work or what Austin actually is to me. I just needed my friend who would be there for me without question. Kelsey wouldn’t judge me, but she would just tell me to wisen up and not dwell on it. She’d be right, but I just need to let the emotions out. I can’t bottle up how much seeing my ex and feeling his skin on mine, even if just a brief second, hurt me. It took me back to such a dark place.

While my head is spinning, I realize Austin has gotten up from the bed. “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get you some water,” he says as he bends down to me and rubs my cheek softly with his thumb. I nod and he hurries out to my kitchen. I see him come back towards my bedroom, but he goes into my bathroom. I try to relax my mind and calm myself down to stop crying. I can feel my tears streaming down my face, but I finally am able to catch my breath and feel the sobbing stop.

Austin appears at my side crouched down facing me. He has some Tylenol and water held out for me, which I gladly take. He takes the water glass and offers me a make-up removing wipe, which makes me giggle. “There she is,” he smiles softly at me. I take the wipe from him and sit up a bit to take my make-up off. Once I’m done, he caresses my face with his thumb and says, “Much better.” I can feel more tears coming as I lay down again and I quietly ask, “Come lay down with me?” Austin with zero hesitation slides out of his shoes and is laying down opposite me. He wraps his one arm around me and uses the other to rub my arm. He quietly asks, “Anastasia, do you wanna tell me what happened?”

I sigh and quietly say, “No, but I feel like I owe you an explanation.” He turns me around so I’m facing him, and he says, “You don’t owe me anything. We can just lay here until you fall asleep, ok?” I nod and stay laying facing Austin. I run my fingers on his chest over his t-shirt. His eyes darken quickly, but as I look up into them, they soften back to their normal icy blue and he softly says, “Everything is gonna be ok, Anastasia. I got you, just go to sleep, baby.” I don’t have the energy to fight him on calling me baby, but I can feel my body react for a moment. I get so caught up in my thoughts…

He’s just a friend… but why is he calling me baby? Why did he rush here in the middle of the night? I was ignoring his texts and he came to me immediately when I called… Why is he looking at me like that? I just want to kiss him…

In order to stop from thinking so much and doing something I regret; I decide to open up to him. “I was out with some friends and my ex was at the same place,” I start to say quietly. Austin’s eyes look at me with such focus, like he isn’t just focused on what I’m saying, but how I’m saying it. “We broke up on pretty bad terms… at first, he was my everything. My first boyfriend and my first…well everything. Brandon started out great, but then he was a bit controlling and would lose his temper with me, but just get angry. Then he’d start grabbing me too hard or shoving me, but he’d always apologize like it was an accident,” I continue, and I look away from his eyes. “I remember the first time Brandon hit me, he apologized immediately. I thought I was done right away. But he was so apologetic I took him back a few days later. But then he just kept doing it. He’d hit me or shove me, apologize and we’d move on before he did it again. He started just demanding I stop going out with friends and I really never saw them for months. I had just turned 19 and he took everyone away from me,” I say as I look back up at him.

Austin’s eyes are locked on me, and I can see anger in them. He looks so hurt and I feel bad for unloading this on him. I think he can sense my thoughts as he says, “Anastasia, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to keep going if you don’t feel comfortable. I’m here for you, no matter what. You’re at home. You’re safe. I have you.” I look down from his eyes that are locked into mine and he reaches down and grabs my hand. I look back up at him and he quietly says, “I’m always going to make sure you feel safe. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop you from seeing him tonight.” I squeeze his hand and say, “I want you to know everything. It’s important.” He looks deep in my eyes, like he’s trying to get in my head to know what I’m thinking. He nods and I continue, “I was in class one day and ran into Kelsey, who immediately knew something was off. I didn’t look like myself, I was weak and just drained of any visible life, pale, thin and just no light in my eyes. It was summer, but I was wearing long sleeves and pants. She got it out of me that he was just hurting me, but she didn’t need to know anymore.”

I start to cry and Austin pulls me into him as he strokes my hair and says, “Anastasia, you’re so brave. You’re out of that time in your life and you’re so loved. You have everyone here for you and you’re safe.” I start to cry even harder. He barely knows me, but knows what I need to hear to be comforted… I bring myself to stop crying and continue, “I spent months living with Kelsey after she helped me just load up my stuff and never even say anything to Brandon other than ‘I’m leaving.’ I changed my number, stopped using social media and just learned to be myself again… My friend group, which was also his friend group, stopped hanging out with him. I really had a clean break from him once I regained my sense of self.”

Austin looks deep into my eyes as he pulls me out of our embrace and says, “I’m so happy you were able to do that for yourself. It’s why you so strong willed, you can really do anything you set your mind to. It’s why I like being around you so much. Anastasia, thank you for telling me.” He pulls me back into him and I grip my arms around him as we’re laying in my bed, on top of the covers and facing one another. I feel so much lighter after telling him all this; like he really knows the real me now. It’s ugly, but it’s what made me the person I am. “He’s the only person I’ve been with and just hearing him say things about me… just really affected me and I just had to come home,” I whisper, and I can feel his body tense up. Austin says, “Anastasia, don’t worry about anything he has to say. I’ve got you.”

[secrettastemakerland]

Answering "Reblog this and let people send you asks (anonymously or not) about how they would describe your fics, your writing style or just anything they've thought about when reading your work" !! HIII okay so I've only read one of your fics so far and it was a short one so I might not be the best person to answer this but I'm so glad you reblogged that post bc I actually do remember getting specific thoughts & feelings when reading one of yours!! I'm not sure if your writing is always like this but in that fic (the one I commented on!!) it felt,,, cozy. it felt warm and familiar and the writing had life to it. it wasn't just Character A walking over to Character B's house (and then room). no, there were explanations, actions, emotions, thoughts and even little bits of humour in between. and that really added to the writing!!!! the story also flowed amazingly!! it was a short fic but it didn't even feel rushed!! everything just felt natural. it was all cohesive from one paragraph to the next and I adore that!! and the descriptions were wonderful!!! painted an image in my mind very easily. one I can only describe the image as love. if the fic was an artwork, it'd have a soft grainy/noisy textured layer over it and the colour palette would be of warm pinks and oranges -- and not just bc I was getting 'sun beginning to set' vibes from it, but also bc of how soft & tender the hurt/comfort in the fic was. also, I remember opening it, reading the first 1 or 2 paragraphs and then getting so genuinely excited bc by then I could already tell you could write well LMAO -- and I was right!! you CAN write well!!! like just in general too!! idk how exactly to explain this but basically what I mean is that you're good at coming up with unique sentences and not super straight-forward plain ones!! but anyways ya!! also, sorry for writing so much!!! I didn't realise I had so much to say 😭😭 (^ /gen to all of the above 💗) - 💎

okay so.

I've been hoarding this for like 2 weeks now and at first I had like the typical kicking my feet, twirling my hair, gotta kiss anon on the mouth (platonically duh) kinda reaction. I was ready to search all of tumblr for the epic poet in my askbox. UNTIL I GOT TO THE END!

I read the end (lol i saw the emoji) and felt magically, red string-a-lly compelled to write a simonette fic. For some strange reason.

So here she is: a slightly longer simonette secret flavored fic!

Jeanette sneezed, readjusted her glasses, and then sneezed again. She wiped her nose miserably before she let out a trio of more sneezes.

Honestly, if the shelves didn't need dusting, she would have stopped. But, alas, Brittany had begged and pleaded with her to do her chores this week in order for her to go on a date.

("And I triple, no, quadruple! promise I won't ask you if we're soulmates this time, Jean!"

"You're not supposed to be asking her that anyway," Eleanor scoffed from the other side of their bedroom.

Brittany stuck her tongue out at her before she returned to her begging and pleading. "Oh, pretty please, Jeanette!")

So Jeanette had agreed, if only to be spared from Brittany's puppy dog pout and crocodile tears combo. That and her obvious hopeless romantic tendencies aside (Brittany's soulmate was a street musician around the corner and, although she wouldn't tell her, she hoped that this date might somehow led her to her soulmate), she really did enjoy working at the shop.

Planting new flowers, experimenting with new potion combinations, organizing, and then reorganizing new spell books, Jeanette loved all of it.

Jeanette pouted as she watched her hat fall to the ground after another round of sneezes. Okay, maybe she didn't love every job at the shop. The heavens above knew that she wasn't exactly helpful during a lunch rush.

Her hand waved the duster with an excited flourish, more than ready to be rid of the dust and its cruel attacks to her nose. Unfortunately, that only made the dust to throw itself back towards her, causing her not only to sneeze once again, but also caused her to sneeze herself right off the ladder, towards the ground.

She let out a breath of relief as she bounced on the summoned daisy bed, catching her fall, returning the smile her little sister was giving her.

Read on ao3

[dnangelic]

The call comes a little past 10 PM. "Daisuke?" A little laugh, more of a hiccup than anything else. She sniffs. "Haha, I know I usually don't try talking this late. Guess I just wanted to shake it up a bit!" And it's true. She's formed a habit of sending good night texts, complete with a string of emojis, by 8 PM on the dot. But neither that or any warning text leading up to the sudden call had come through that night. There's a sharp intake of breath. "My aunt and uncle are out tonight, and I don't think my brother's coming home 'cause- actually, never mind. It's just- it's just-" Another sniffle, and her voice drops down as if she's not sure she wants to be heard. "It's awful quiet. And I don't..." she trails off. After a few moments of silence, she gasps, "Oh no, did I wake you up!? I'll never forgive myself if I interrupted your beauty sleep!"

@deiscension

the call comes a little past 10 PM --- past curfew , post-heist . the electric rush of adrenaline has already worn off ; the blood , sweat , and tears of it rinsed away by a warm bath ... leaving the niwa worn out in his bed . eyes that had slowly drawn themselves shut now open in a disturbed-sleep squint --- at first he thinks it must be risa or takeshi ringing ; didn't his friends often call him , loud , wide awake and full of eager enthusiasm even at midnight to ask if he had seen dark on tv again ? the evening hours and all of its attentions would always belong to the great phantom thief ; daisuke likewise left to produce all sorts of pitiful excuse and apology to anyone trying to reach him , but it's different this time .

it's the first time shi qingxuan had ever called him like this . daisuke has likewise been barely granted the span of enough seconds to mumble out a messy 'hello...?' as she follows the cue of the line's otherwise answered , lingering silence . there's something strange too in the other's voice that immediately pricks at the boy a little ; snaps him awake just as quickly as it did in the face of soaring goodmorning knives and electric needles . although she carries herself well , choice and sound of her words playful and lilting as ever at least in the start , it's still not the same . parts of it lacked ; other parts , the static of her every sniff , her punctured laugh --- he can't be sure , and another part of him doesn't want to think it's true , but ...

' shi qingxuan ... are you okay ? '

in an instant , he begins to worry . his hand presses against the receiving mic of his phone ; covers up his small grunt and sore , stinging hiss as he snaps himself into a seat upwards , alongside any possible dissuasion from shi qingxuan herself : if she was going to fret and tell him that she was just fine , then he wasn't going to hear it . surprises were always like this ; demanding as much immediate action as they did spontaneous improvisation , and he doesn't hesitate to start putting a fresh pair of socks on . was it too presumptuous ? was he being impulsive ? despite the dizzy buzz and renewed rush , he can still fill in every blank .

lacrimosa : ( i don't want to be all alone . )

' can --- can i visit you ?! ' he hops in place as he holds his phone up to his ear by a shoulder . what cotton pajamas he had just started to warm and get comfortable in are traded out for better outer-wear in as little as the blink of an eye . ' i mean , no , what i meant to say is , i'm already on my way --- ' would she try to stop him ? if she was the only one there , then she was the only one that could . but he hopes that she wouldn't . ' you didn't wake me up , i promise ! i was just --- o-on a walk outside ! i'm halfway to you already , ' not quite , only just now opening the window of his room and leaping right out of it before breaking into a sprint down the road , but if he hurried he could make it there in record time .

all for a friend . ( i don't only want to hear you cry . )

' i'll be right there , okay ? ' it doesn't strike him that she could possibly hear his panting ; his frantic , aching hurry . after all , despite it , his voice is still bright and kind --- the smile on his face , even unseen , still tries to reassure . ' it's alright . i promise ! even if you had woken me up , i'd be happy to talk with you . ' he laughs too , because there's nothing else to do , even as he's running himself out of breath again . ' but --- shi qingxuan , you'll ... you'll let me in , right ? ' don't fret over presentation . please , just wait for me . please , be willing to open the door . he wouldn't have intruded otherwise , even if he could have ; picked every lock , flung open every gate . even after making it all this way , if she earnestly refused him ---

' if ... it's lonely , then i want to be beside you . i want to talk to you face to face . '

... that was all .

[nancydrewwouldnever]

But also, if we can date these to October - then that really makes it seem like they were setting up a lot of photo ops during October in advance of doing the Pumpkingate drop. If we've got these, then we've also got the "carving" day that was probably around October 12th, given how Elsa threw that pic up on her FB on Oct 13th, and then of course the weekend of Tara's Halloween party right before Pumpkingate. I don't buy Pumpkingate as an accident at all. It was planned//

Which makes me even more confused by everything that happened from November on. Like, why was the shit that happened the week of SMA seemingly so rushed? We have the pic from Halloween and then the next time they’re seen together is that awkward run in the park. Like did something happen that first week of November that made this all so weird? I hope they keep posting to force their narrative, because with everything they put out it feels like we’re closer to figuring out what has actually been going on.

To me it only seems rushed because of the fact that the SMA drop and pap walk happened the same week. But there was no way around that, as those are dates which were not controlled by the PR teams in any way.

SMA publication date is a set by the magazine.

The pap walk was obviously planned for the same day Warrior Nun season 2 dropped on Netflix. That day was chosen by Netflix. (Ask yourself: what if that had been a day back in August or so, and the pap walk happened then? Probably you wouldn't feel the same.)

If the one of those dates had happened differently, then no one would be feeling it was "rushed" because is would not have happened in conjunction on the same week.

But that entire week was plotted out. SMA announcement leading into the two Broadway stories leading into him leaving the emoji comment on her post leading to the pap walk..

The could have perhaps planned it a little better by doing something on the week in between Pumpkingate on Oct. 31st and SMA on Nov. 6/7th, but they didn't. Probably because he was busy filming on Red One that week.