#i am tired do i wanna drop out is it the pandemic am i just unhappy who know certainly not me

[tobesolonely]

grammy night

A/n: like most of you, watching harry perform WS did something to me. i rushed to my computer to write this IMMEDIATELY... not proofread but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless! Thanks @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over and hyping me up.

summary: y/n wants to show her grammy winning boyfriend just how proud she is of him💕

warnings: smut, mentions of the pandemic!

word count: ~3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You decided that “Harry Styles, Grammy-nominated artist!” had a lovely ring to it.

Harry knew how proud you were of him; you had been making it known to him in the days leading up to his big night. You fretted over him more than you usually did, showered him in an obnoxious amount of compliments, and were the most intimate you’d ever been with him–– but who was he to complain? 

Obviously, he knew you could care less whether he won or lost, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either. Just being able to perform at the Grammy’s, much less open it, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fact that he was hitting such a big professional milestone with you by his side just made it that much better. You were both buzzing.

It had been months since Harry had performed. You knew how much he missed being in front of a live audience and hearing people scream his name, conceited as he was. He had been spending so much time rehearsing the one song he was performing, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend was a perfectionist, after all! If he was going to do something, he either did it one hundred and ten percent, or he didn’t do it at all.

Although you were used to your boyfriend’s pre-performance jitters, it still wasn’t an easy sight to see. He would pace so much that beads of sweat would collect in his hairline; he’d shake, tremble, and have to be reminded to breathe. You’d think after ten years of doing this he would be a pro, but he was only human, after all. 

“Been so long since I performed in front of people,” Harry muttered to you, examining his reflection in his make-shift dressing room. “‘M nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” you reply, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders. He shoots you a look in the mirror. “I know it’s easier said than done but you have nothing to worry about. It’s “Watermelon Sugar” honey–– you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve performed this one dozens of times.”

“Things are jus’ so different now,” his voice drops an octave. “What if people are tired of the song?”

“I don’t think people are tired of the song.”

“It played on the radio a lot. Came out in 2019––”

“...And you’ve been busy with other things. No one’s gonna be upset that you haven’t released new music in the middle of a pandemic H, I promise you.”

Harry’s gaze meets yours again in the mirror briefly before he tilts his head back, silently asking for a kiss. You plant one on his lips before grabbing a tissue from a small table beside him, dabbing at his hairline.

“Stop sweating everything off, Harry,” you playfully scold your boyfriend. “Make-up artist has already been by to touch you up three times already, she’s probably running out of product.”

Your boyfriend lightly chuckles at this, causing you to smile. “I’ll just tell my body to cut it out. How’s tha’ sound?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You alright?”

You notice Harry deeply inhale. “I think so. How do I look?”

“Like a Grammy-nominated, soon-to-be Grammy-winning, artist.” 

Harry’s skin flushes. “Stop it…” The sound of three short knocks on the door of his dressing room causes panic to flood his features.

“Hey, look at me,” you gently grab your boyfriend’s chin, turning his gaze up towards yours. “It’s my job to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. If you get nervous just know I’ll be sitting as close to the stage as they’ll let me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, go make me proud.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Breathe me in, breathe me out…”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Harry’s nerves in his dressing room were all theatrics. He was so in his element on stage, you were one hundred percent sure no one knew he was so nervous twenty minutes prior that he was turning green. He kept looking out into the small crowd, searching for you, and flashing you a dimpled grin once he did. 

You were enjoying watching him prance around the stage while trying to keep up with the band on stage, looking a bit too proud of himself when he was able to stay on the beat while rhythmically snapping his hips along to the song. As the song came to an end and the dimmed lights started coming back on, you were led back to Harry’s dressing room by one of his guards as you heard the next performer being introduced.

“How did I do?” Harry asks loudly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

His voice causes you to jump. “You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get off stage so quickly?”

Harry grabs your arm and pulls you off the couch, wrapping you in a tight, sweaty hug. “Don’t know. I basically ran to ya.”

“You did incredibly,” you tell him, lips ghosting over his. “Just like I knew you would. I don’t wanna say you were nervous for nothing, but you kinda were.”

“Don’t wanna hear your teasin’.”

“Did you see how everyone was looking at you?”

“I only saw how you were lookin’ at me. I was only lookin’ at you.”

Your body heats up at Harry’s admission, causing you to look away. “You’re so cheesy, H.”

“I think I would’ve been about fifty times more nervous if you weren’t here with me,” he presses his nose against yours. “Thank you for bein’ here, Y/N. You make this whole thing so much more doable.” Harry places one… two… three wet kisses to your cheek before pulling away, walking back over to close the door he left open during his excitement to re-join you.

“Changing?”

“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at you as he pulls off his jacket. The sight of his bare chest causes you to thickly swallow. “‘M gonna put what I was wearin’ on the red carpet back on. We’re gonna move outside.”

You simply hum in response to what Harry said, sitting back on the couch to scroll through your phone as you wait for him to finish changing. Everyone was congratulating Harry on his performance and wishing him luck on his nominations. You read all the good luck texts for him that were sent to you out loud, watching as his smile grows bigger and bigger from all the love he was being showered in.

After helping Harry powder his T-zone you let him lead you out of the small room and out into an area with spaced-out circular tables, most of them with just two or three seats at them. The Grammy’s in the middle of a pandemic was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you were pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were running. Jeff is already sat at the table when you and Harry join him and you can visibly see him let out the breath he was holding.

“Your boyfriend ran off stage so quickly I thought I was gonna have to set up a search party to find him,” Jeff tells you, a slight hint of annoyance present in his voice. He then turns to Harry and says, “Fix your mask, please.”

“It is fixed,” Harry grumbles but adjusts it nonetheless, causing you to giggle. 

Even though it was obvious your boyfriend was enjoying himself, you could still tell he was extremely nervous the closer it became to announcing the winner of the category he was nominated in. His grip on your thigh kept growing tighter and tighter and although you didn’t hate it, you worried he might cut off your circulation soon if he didn’t let go of you soon.

“H, take a deep breath,” you lean over to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna make my thigh fall off.”

“Sorry, love,” if you could see his mouth under his mask, you’d see him biting his plump lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my fuckin’ life.”

“Never?”

“Have I?”

“I dunno. I’m asking you.”

You see Harry’s eyes crinkle. “Maybe when I asked you out for the first time.”

“You are seriously so cheesy.”

Harry doesn’t respond, just takes your hand in his and directs his attention back to the stage. His palm is sweaty in yours but you don’t release his grip on your hand, wanting to offer him as much comfort as you possibly could.

When they start naming the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, you literally have to remind Harry to control his breathing. Although he won’t be upset if he doesn’t win, you know it would still mean quite a bit to him if he did.

“And the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance is… Harry Styles!”

Your mouth falls open in shock as you turn to fully face your boyfriend who was looking down at your intertwined hands, eyes wide in surprise. He genuinely wasn’t expecting to win and that made this victory that much sweeter. 

“Harry!” You yell to be heard above the cheers and applause of his colleagues in the crowd. Jeff stands and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and into a tight hug. You stand up and clap loudly in admiration for your boyfriend, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. He removes himself from Jeff and pulls you into him, your head pressed against his chest.

“I won a fuckin’ Grammy!” Harry shouts.

“I know!” You shout back, probably more excited than he was. “Get up there!”

Your boyfriend quickly removes his mask and hands it to you before hurrying to the makeshift stage, hugging the presenter before touching his Grammy in awe. He picks it up and then slowly sets it back down, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much…” 

You can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline–– you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’re not even paying attention to his acceptance speech as you’re too preoccupied with looking at everyone staring at your boyfriend in admiration. 

“Lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend who’s sitting right there next to my manager, Jeffrey. She’s my number one fan, always believes in me when I don’t believe in myself,” he looks down at his shoes bashfully. “Wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. This is our Grammy, love.”

You blow kisses to your boyfriend, ignoring the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. As far as you were concerned, you and Harry were the only two people around at that moment. Your heart couldn’t have been any more full.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

To absolutely no one's surprise, you and Harry couldn’t keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the night. You were relieved there were no after parties being held that Harry would be expected to attend due to the pandemic because you could not get him alone fast enough.

“Slow down, Y/N,” Harry sets his Grammy on the foyer table as he kicks off his shoes. “Just us, innit? We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

“I’m just so proud,” you tell him breathlessly, sucking on the underside of his jaw. “Let me show you.”

“You have been showin’ me. A lot, actually,” Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes in pleasure as you lick tantalizingly slow against his veiny neck. “Guess one more time wouldn’t hurt, though.”

“Do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s gonna happen here?”

“If you’re gonna be annoying, then no.”

“Kiiiding,” Harry rolls his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “C’mon, let me get you upstairs.”

”You’re the one that won a Grammy, not me,” you remind him. “Let me make you feel good.”

Harry lets out a quiet hum, guiding you towards the couch. “Exactly–– I’m the winner. Doesn’t that mean I should get what I want tonight?” He falls backward onto the couch, pulling you atop his lap. His hand roams down the front of your dress and he squeezes your breasts roughly, clearly delighted that you decided to forgo a bra tonight.

“I suppose,” you answer, biting back a moan. 

“You suppose? Not in the mood for it tonight?” He starts to retract his hand but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“I am!” You don’t even try to hide how desperate you are for your boyfriend.

“Gonna let me taste you, hmm?” As Harry asks his question he slowly slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of you, bunching your dress up around your hips. He leans in close to your already dripping center and inhales deeply, a blissed-out look on his face. “Smell fuckin’ incredible. I gotta taste ya.”

You spread your legs wider without even thinking about it, almost as if it’s on instinct. Harry easily moves your underwear to the side and immediately connects his lips with your clit, not giving you time to adjust to the sensation before he’s just going at it.

“Oh, Harry…”

“Rings on or off?” His voice is muffled due to your thighs being clamped around his head, but you can still understand what he’s saying.

“On!”

Harry chuckles against your cunt before sliding his index finger in with ease, loving the way you immediately clenched around the digit. “Y’like that, lovie? Wanna take another one?”

“Please.” Your boyfriend already has you breathless despite the fact that he was just getting started.

Harry slips his middle finger into you along with his index finger and starts curling it up in the way he knew you liked, trying his hardest to stimulate your g-spot. He looks extremely focused; leave it to Harry to make a night that was supposed to be all about him, not.

“S’fuckin’ tight,” he says, more so to himself. “You’d think with all the shags we’ve been ‘avin lately you’d be used to my fingers by now.”

You let out a loud groan at your boyfriend’s dirty talk. He knew that it was one of your biggest kinks so he usually overdid it just a tad bit. It’s not like you were complaining, though.

“Guess that means you’re not fuckin’ me hard enough, huh?”

Harry stops his movements and looks up at you through slightly hooded eyes, an amused (but not really) look on his face. “Not fuckin’ you hard enough? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You can tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he has it out for you now, but there’s no use in recanting your statement. He was about to make sweet, primal, love to you and god were you ready. Harry goes back to mercilessly fucking into you with his thick fingers, speeding up or slowing down his pace based on how you clench around him.

”Fuck, H.”

“Feels nice?” He goes from moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion to a scissoring motion which feels just as good if not better.

“Yeah, really nice,” your fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair and you know he’ll give you hell later for getting it all knotted. “I’m close.”

“Already? Haven’t even properly fucked you yet,” Harry removes his fingers from you aching cunt agonizingly slow, wiping them on his expensive Gucci trousers. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to fix that, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, pet. Is that really any way to treat your Grammy-winning boyfriend-”

“Harry, come off it!” You exclaim, letting out a loud laugh as you watch him stand up and unbutton his pants. “You’re insufferable, I swear.”

Harry shoots you one of his blindingly bright smiles, wiggling his eyebrows as his pants pool around his feet. “Hey, ‘m just statin’ facts.”

He collapses onto the couch and pats his lap, giving his leaking cock two quick tugs. “Ride me.”

“Just because you won a Grammy doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask nicely anymore.”

“Y/N, my beautiful, dazzling, elegant girlfriend, will you please do me the honors of riding––”

“Why do you make everything so weird?” You groan as Harry laughs and pulls you into his lap with ease, wincing when your thigh brushes against his cock. Wordlessly, he places his hands on your hips and helps you sink down onto him, taking his lip in between his teeth to keep from yelling out.

”Fuck me…”

“I’m about to,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjust to his size. His hands roam the expanse of your back as he waits for you to get used to the feeling on him, wanting to feel every part of your body all at once. Without warning, you begin sluggishly rolling your hips. You were in no rush anymore; you had him inside of you, and that was all you wanted from the start.

“S’that all you got in ya?” His tone is cheeky, almost mocking. “I think you can give me more than tha’.”

“I dunno if I can.”

“Why’s that?” Harry bucks his hips upward slightly causing you to let out a loud gasp.

“I just want you to fuck me. I don’t wanna do any work.”

At this, Harry quickly flips you over so your sweaty body is now below his. You moan at the sensation the new angle immediately brought you. “Want me on top like this? This is how you wanna have me, angel?”

You nod. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Harry,” your eyes squeeze shut as Harry begins quickly thrusting into you. “God, yes. That feels amazing.”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Harry reaches his hand down to thumb at you clit and raises an eyebrow while awaiting your answer.

“God,” you grab onto your breasts to prevent them from bouncing around as Harry’s thrusting into you but he rips your hand away.

“Wanna see ‘em.”

“Right there,” you moan, no longer trying to bite back your sounds of pleasure. Between Harry eating you out, fingering you, and now fucking you harder than he has in ages, you were a few sloppy thrusts away from coming all over his cock. “I’m gonna cum–”

“...Already?”

You know he’s teasing but you still reach between your sweaty bodies to swat at his bare chest. “Don’t tease!”

“‘M messin’ with ya, puppy,” Harry pushes his curls out of his eyes. “I’m almost there- you first. Cum for me, Y/N.”

Harry doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spasm around his cock as soon as he tells you to, lifting your hips up to meet him as you could tell he was growing tired. Harry pulls out moments later, muttering a quick, “Where do you want it?” before finishing on your chest.

The silence that fills the room is comforting but of course, it’s cut short by your pest of a boyfriend.

“If that's what I got just for winning one Grammy, what would I get if I won the others?”

[nomsugayoongi]

Make up/Make Out!

Pairing: Jungkook X OC fem

Warnings: It's just smut. Pure smut. 🔞

A/N: Written and edited on a phone so please forgive any mistakes. Suggestions for more are very welcome and also thoughts. Let me know what you think.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Am I good to finish for the night?"

She'd been on her feet all day. As make up and hair assistant to one of the most popular groups on the planet, her job consisted of being ready at any moment, day or night, to get the guys of BTS camera ready. Today had been a particularly heavy day. Photoshoots and zoom interviews. You would have thought a global pandemic would have slowed her workload right down but apparently not. The boys were just as busy as ever, determined to remain a presence even when the world was falling apart.

"I'm not sure actually. I think one of the guys is maybe doing a live. Shouldn't take long, just a touch up. Let me go check." Another assistant hurried off, leaving her in what had been dubbed the "ready room" She sighed, sorting the array of make up products strewn on the counter into each boys respective make up bag. 7 individual colour palettes. 7 skin tones. 7 favoured brands. She'd been doing it long enough now that she didn't have to think anymore. Jimin's chapstick in one bag. Hobi's concealer in another. She was tired and frustrated. 16 months of a global lockdown meant she was now living in the guys home in the staff wing. Apart from video calls, she hadn't seen anyone and wasn't able to leave really. On the odd occasion when she did have to accompany the guys somewhere, she was subjected to regular covid tests. It was all just a little overwhelming. Like much of the planet, she was beginning to feel a little stir crazy.

The door opened and the assistant from earlier poked her head round. "Jungkook is doing a live. He's on his way down now. Can you handle it or do you want me to stay?" She could see the hopeful look in her colleagues eye that she could go for the night. Sighing inwardly, she nodded. "I'm good. Enjoy the rest of the night. I'll see you in the morning." She said, faking a smile. An immediate thankful grin was aimed in her direction before her co-worker quickly dissapeared. She sighed again, picking out Jungkooks bag and rifling though it. A V Live wasn't as intense as actual interviews. She'd maybe need to touch up his foundation and neaten his hair. With any luck she could be done in 10 minutes.

She was just about finished setting up when the door opened again. She turned with a welcoming smile but frowned a little as he walked in. His hair was wet, a towel still slung around his shoulders, face completely bare. "Have you just showered?" She muttered. He nodded, strolling over to his favourite chair and slumping in it. "Yeah. I wasn't going to bother with a live but it's been ages and I miss ARMY. Plus I feel kind of restless tonight." He explained. She nodded, a little frustrated that she'd have to entirely redo his face and hair. So much for 10 minutes. But it was her job after all. "So what are we doing?" She questioned, walking up behind him and leaning on the chair, a hand either side of his shoulders. He shrugged, looking at her through the mirror in front of him. "Whatever you want. Just make me look ok for the live." He replied. She chuckled slightly, studying him through the mirror. "You already look ok for the live. But I'll dry your hair. It's freezing in the office. Can't have you catching a cold." She smiled. He chuckled, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his baggy cargo pants and loading up a game. She smiled a little more. Typical Jungkook.

She got to work, removing the damp towel from around his shoulders, tossing it aside and reaching for the hairdryer. It didn't take long to dry. His hair was fine but he had a lot of it and luckily he didn't bleach it into the ground like some of his band mates so it was pretty healthy. Once dried, it was soft and shiny, falling prettily around his face. "Want it straightening?" She asked, digging her fingernails between the dark brown strands at the crown of his head and ruffling it slightly. His hair naturally had a slight wave to it. He had dropped his phone into his lap and his eyes were closed. He liked the slight scratch of her fingernails. It felt nice. "Hmm?" He muttered. "Oh..yeah. Straighten it." He opened his eyes with a sigh. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. "Yeah. Bit of a headache. The scratching was nice." He replied, a small smile playing around his lips. She chuckled, setting down the hairdryer and diving her fingers into his hair, raking her nails lightly across his scalp. Head massage wasn't exactly part of her job description but she had a soft spot for Jungkook. Her tummy filled with warmth as his head to lolled forward and he grumbled softly, eyes closing again. She couldn't help but smile, pressing her fingers to his temples and rubbing in slow circles. "Do you need painkillers?" She asked softly. He grumbled again but shook his head a little. "Nah. Already feels a bit better." He muttered. "Tension headache?" She questioned. "Probably." She diverted her rubbing to his hairline, digging her thumbs into the nape of his neck. His head rolled heavily against her hand, a relieved moan slipping past his parted lips. She watched him in the mirror, her stomach churning as she studied him. Reminding herself that she was working, she reluctantly dropped her hands, reaching for the straighteners. "So... we're straightning." She muttered. He cleared his throat, correcting his posture where he'd slumped down the chair. "Yeah." He nodded.

She ran the flat irons through his hair, alternating between looking at what she was doing and glancing at him through the mirror. "What are we doing with your face?" She questioned, applying a conditioning spray to his already silky soft hair, just so that the heat from the straighteners didn't make it frizzy. "Just make me look good." he said with a shrug. She grinned, picking up a clean powder brush, she spun him round to face her and booped the end of his nose with the brush. "Done" she smiled. He laughed, nose crinkling adorably. "You literally didn't do anything." She shrugged, placing the brush back on the counter. "You don't need anything doing." She said simply. He rolled his eyes, his ears turning pink. "I look like shit." He huffed. She was silent for a second, eyes flicking across his face. His hair was perfect, shiny and soft, skimming his large brown doe eyes. His nose was cute. His lips were full and though slightly chapped, kind of perfect too. Without foundation to soften his features, his jawline looked sharper. His skin was pretty good, the lack of make up making the cute moles dotted around his face clearer. The scar on his right cheek was more noticable but it gave his face character. "You really, really don't." She replied.

He shuffled shyly, fiddling with the phone abandoned on his lap. "I do. I look...plain. I can't go on camera like this." He muttered. She sighed, perching on the back of the sofa next to her. "Jungkook, you couldn't look plain if you tried. Trust me, if your ARMY see you like this they will lose their damn minds." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. He glanced up at her, eyebrow hitching curiously. "See me like what?" He muttered. She shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the things she didn't seem to be able to stop herself from saying. "Like...you. As you are. You've got that...thing...going on." She huffed. "What thing?" She rolled her eyes. "You know what thing. You give off heavy boyfriend energy. Especially when you look like this." She mumbled. He laughed, looking at her more intently. "Boyfriend energy?" She chuckled too, her face feeling hotter than she'd like. "Yeah. You know, that whole duality thing. It's cute. But it's sexy too." She babbled. "You think I'm sexy?" His eyebrows raised, his lips fighting a smile. "As your make up artist, I don't think anything." She chuckled. "And as you?" He questioned. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to look into his pretty eyes. "As me? I think you're one of the most confusing men I've ever met." She replied. His gaze was intense, forcing her to speak even though she wasn't actually sure she wanted to. "Confusing how?" He asked quietly.

She thought for a minute then shrugged. "Confusing in the way you play absolute havok with a woman and don't even seem to notice that you're doing it. You're such a contradiction. You're sweet and cute and warm. You're...soft and cuddly. The kind of guy who you want to snuggle and play with his hair as he sleeps. But you also have the ability to absolutely blow that out of the water and turn into this whole other creature. This...sinfully hot, dripping in sex appeal, gyrating menace. And you seem to be able to flip from one to the other and back in literally seconds. You're hormonal whiplash guy. One minute you wanna cuddle him, the next you wanna fuck him senseless, then back to cuddling. Confusing. But either way, whether you're cuddle guy or sexy guy, you're compeltely disarming. Captivating even." She paused, blushing at the heated expression on his perfect face. "So...you don't have to worry about what ARMY think. However you rock up, you're good." She finished with an awkward shrug. "Anyway, if you want me to do your face properly for the camera I will." She said, standing up off the back of the sofa and heading for her make up brushes.

"Woah. Hang on a minute. You can't just say all that and then pretend you didn't. Are you attracted to me?" He asked, smirking slightly, sexy guy definitely rearing his head. She tried her damnedest not to look at him. "Umm...you're attractive, yeah." She shrugged. "That's not what I asked." He hummed. "We've been in lockdown for 16 months. Everyone's attractive right now." She joked, trying to divert the gaze currently burning a hole through her professionalism. "You keep dodging the question." He pushed. She sighed, dropping the beauty blender she was currently picking apart and turning to him. "Yeah, I'm attracted to you. A large portion of the globe is attracted to you." She shrugged. "Yeah but I wasn't asking the globe. I asked you." He replied. "Well I answered. So are we doing your make up or no? It's late." She sighed, flustered. The way he was looking at her made her squirm. Curiously, but with something darker going on behind those doe eyes. "I don't know if I'm attracted to you. I've never thought about it." He muttered. She swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at him. "I didn't ask." She shrugged. "Yeah but after what you said, I can't just ignore it." He sat back in the chair, studying her. Her stomach twisted nervously. "You're cute. Short. I like that. You have nice hair. And your eyes are really pretty." He said absently, as though not actually talk to her, just assessing. She shuffled uncomfortably, her cheeks burning. "I like you. I'm just...not good at this sort of thing. I started training for BTS when I was 15. It didn't leave me a whole lot of time or opportunity to figure out the whole dating thing." He said, a hint of shyness dripping into his voice. "Oh please, I've seen you on stage. You can flirt like a pro." She scoffed. "Flirt, yeah. When it's empty. I can do it when I know it's not going anywhere. Flirting on stage isn't real. I'm not good when it is real." He shrugged. "I dunno...maybe we should...kiss..or something." He babbled. She gawped at him stupidly. "Easiest way to figure out what's going on here." He said, another shrug indicating his nerves. She swallowed, nodding slightly. "Ok." She didn't even really think about the answer, it just fell out.

He stood, shaking his hair out if his eyes, alternating between jamming his hands in his pockets and taking them out again. He was too cute. A kind of deer in the headlights look about him. The confidence he exuded on stage was nowhere near. He looked nervous. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. Her heart was racing. He kept his hands limply by his sides as he inched forward, his eyes closing, a slight hitch of breath as his nose bumped hers then gently he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were warm and soft with just a hint of rough where they were chapped. Her heart rate doubled pretty much instantly, even at the lingering, closed mouthed peck. They weren't even really kissing but her stomach fluttered wildly. He shuffled a little closer, catching her bottom lip then the top lip then slowly opening his mouth a little more. His hands moved, running his fingertips up her arm, to her shoulder then resting on her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw. The other hand sat comfortably on her hip, pulling her into him just a little more. She sighed against his lips, her insides going nuts as her arms snaked around his narrow waist. Cautiously, he licked at her top lip, gauging her reaction. She opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue past her lips. A quiet involuntary moan escaped her. He tasted of sweetness and biscuit and she idly wondered if he'd been eating Pocky recently. The hand sat against her hip gripped a little harder. He exhaled heavily through his nose as his tongue caressed hers. He hummed against her mouth, withdrawing his tongue but still taking her lips in deep, lingering kisses, almost like he couldn't quite force himself to stop. With a long sigh, he pulled back, just enough to seperate their lips but still close enough for his nose to nudge hers. "Ok. Yeah. Definitely feel it." He whispered. Her eyes opened, her head fuzzy as she gazed at him with a mixture of affection and desire. She didn't even notice that he was looking at her the same way. He ran his fingers through her hair, a smile breaking onto his kiss reddened lips. She giggled dopily, forehead against his, heart skipping a beat at his responding giggle.

"Don't you need to go do a live?" She grinned. He shook his head, fingers entwining with hers. "It can wait till tomorrow. I just want to keep kissing you." His lips were on hers again before she could even process his reply. She moaned softly, melting against him. He felt sturdy and warm, he smelled amazing. He tasted delicious. He was almost too good. Her head swam at the feel of his tongue in her mouth, exploring, licking and tasting, possessing. He was literally making her weak at the knees. Her grip on him tightened, clutching at his steady frame to keep herself upright, genuinely worried that the depth of his heady kiss was going to send her slithering to the floor. She was just about managing to keep a tentative grasp on her composure until his lips left hers and started fluttering along her cheek, stopping just below her ear to suck the delicate skin there. A shiver bolted down her spine, her head rolling aside to give him more access. He moaned quietly against her neck, teeth nipping her skin. She gasped, another shiver errupting through her. "Damn it Jungkook" she whispered. She didn't know what she was damning. Everything? Nothing? It just seemed to be the only words she could claw from her addled brain. He bit a little harder, instantly soothing the slight burst of pain with a slow, tender lick of his soft, warm tongue. Her fingers knotted through his hair, dragging his head back so she could attack his mouth. He groaned against her lips, pressing his hips against her. She pulled his head back, her eyes locking on his. "You need to stop. I'm too horny for this shit." She panted, kissing along his jawline. He bit his lip, hand cradling the back of her head as her lips and tongue skimmed across his throat. "I can do something about that if you want." He murmured. She moaned again, temptation burning hot at her core. "Fuck" she hissed. He pulled her back from the assault she was carrying out on his neck. "Do you have a room mate?" He asked, brown eyes smouldering. She shook her head. "Where's your room?"

She could hardly believe how her night was turning out as she tried to make it to her room with some semblance of normality. Especially with Jungkook in tow. Luckily it was late enough that nobody was still wandering around in the hallways so the fact that she looked like she was about to eat him wasn't an issue. Arriving at her room, she'd barely closed the door behind them when he was back on her, pressing her into the door, lips on hers, hands wondering to her shirt, stopping the kiss barely long enough to pull it over her head before his tongue was back in her mouth. His hands agaisnt the door, either side of her head, boxing her in as he held her still with his body. She could already feel the uncomfortable ache between her thighs, heat pooling inside her making her squirm. How the fuck could he get her so riled up just by kissing her?

His lips moved down, back to the spot on her neck he seemed to enjoy biting, his teeth nipping and sucking once again. He was going to leave a mark and she absolutely didn't care. She hoped he did. She hoped he left several. If it meant he didn't stop, she'd happily have him suck and bite his initials into her skin if he wanted. His lips travelled further down, hands lifting off the door to cup her boobs, pushing them up and groaning in his throat as he licked languidly down her cleavage. He used his thumbs to tease her bra clad nipples, nipping and sucking at the swell of her ample breasts. She pushed his hair back, staring at him opened mouth as he moved her bra aside and wrapped his lips round her nipple. She moaned softly, biting her lip. He sucked deeply, the pull travelling straight down to her pussy, causing her clit to throb needily. His fingers tugging and rolling her other nipple. She wriggled desperately against the solid wooden door. He switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, his mouth felt hot and wet, tongue flicking quickly then slowly, then sucking then nibbling. Each gesture making her pussy clench.

She didn't know how much more she could take. The needy ache was becoming overpowering. Luckily he seemed to sense it, his hands slipping down, flicking the button of her jeans open. He eyed her quickly, requesting permission which was granted with an almost frantic nod. He smirked, hooking his fingers into her jeans and pushing them over her hips teasingly slowly. Her underwear went with them, balling together round her ankles. She couldn't even think enough to kick them off. He stood, leaning against the door with one hand, his eyes on hers as his fingers trailed lightly across her stomach then down, grazing her inner thigh. His smirk was torturous, knowing exactly what she needed and purposefully grazing but giving no relief. "Don't be a brat." She panted. He chuckled darkly, his fingers circling her bellybutton, the tickle making her abdomen clench. "This is what I was talking about. The duality. I like you more when you're being a bunny." She hissed. He laughed again. "No you don't." He muttered, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. "You've waited 16 months. What's an extra two minutes?" He smirked, his fingers once again playing around her inner thigh. "Jungkook I swear to god, I'm just gonna do it myself in a minute." She growled. He rolled his eyes, chuckling breathlessly. "Ok ok. Jesus."

He licked his lips, his smirk faltering as his fingers grazed her slit. "Fuck, you're already wet." He moaned. "Duh, I've been wet since you kissed me in the other room." She whispered. He bit his lip, groaning deeply, his fingers pushing through her folds, finding her clit quickly and circling. The ache tightened in her belly, her knees buckling. He dipped his fingers down against her hole, smearing her own sticky liquid around his fingertips before moving back up to her clit, his index and ring fingers parting her folds while his middle finger gently rubbed her sensative bud. Her breath shuddered, eyes closing as she swallowed thickly. Her head fell back, banging against the door. She was so turned on that his touch almost burned, so sensative already. He maintained a steady pace with his fingers, dipping back down occasionally to recover them in the fluid now leaking from her hole to make the glide of his fingertips smoother. She could barely breath. The stimulation of his careful touch on her clit was almost unbearable, causing the needy ache of her pussy to increase rapidly. She needed to be stretched and filled, her thoughts lost in how his fingers would feel slipping in and out of her greedy hole. Or better yet, his hard cock. She groaned, eyes rolling back as she felt his lips back on her neck. She gripped at his hair, inhaling through clenched teeth. "Jungkook, I need you to fuck me." She whined. He moaned, biting her neck again. "I'm going to. Just not yet." He muttered. She growled pathetically, writhing against the door as he maintained the steady torture with his fingers. She couldn't keep her hands still, grabbing at his hair and his shoulder and the door frame as the pleasure built from a subtle warmth to a searing heat, creeping though her limbs and making her weak. "Fuck...I can't.." she choked, not actually knowing what the end of the statement was. Can't stand it. Can't function. Can't breath. Can't wait. The gradual build of her orgasm was now rushing towards her with alarming speed, every careful brush of his fingertips nudging her closer. "Ahhh. Jungkook...fuck" she huffed. He smirked, lifting his head from her neck to kiss her.

It didn't fit. She expected him to ravage her mouth. He didn't. He kissed her softly, his tongue dancing across her lips, barely any pressure, his free hand coming up to stroke her cheek. Emotional whiplash man in full effect. The action of his fingers was making her wild but his kiss was sweet and soothing. It felt so strange to be kissed that way while being held on the very edge of an orgasm. The way he kept the same steady pace was vicious. She wanted him to speed up, go harder, follow the flow of her building release but he didn't. The slow build drew out her pleasure, his pace maddening. A rush of heat flooded through her, stilling her lips against his mouth, making her gasp for air as every muscle in her body constricted. She could hear her own pleasured wails but they didn't sound like any kind of noise she'd ever made before. Her eyes screwed shut, back arching off the door as her orgasm hit violently, heat coursing from her core and seeping though the rest of her body. She panted helplessly, spots dancing in front of her eyes, her muscles slowly realising. When her knees went, he had an arm around her waist to hold her up. "I've got you." He whispered, kissing her jawline softly. His fingers slowed as she began to shudder, instead moving to trace light, ticklish patterns on her thigh. Her head flopped heavily against his shoulder, fingers gripping at his back like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece. She didn't even notice him moving her until she felt herself sinking heavily into her bed. He laid beside her, chin resting in his hand as he smiled, using the other hand to move her hair off her face. She was quiet for a few minutes, slowly calming her ragged breathing down, enjoying the blissful tingles fading out. When her eyes could focus enough, she looked at him and whined quietly, her heart thumping painfully. He was beyond beautiful. A shaky hand lifted to brush a few strands of dark brown hair away from his pretty eyes. "Wow" she whispered. He chuckled, staring back at her. "You can sleep if you want to. I don't mind." He said softly, noticing her still dozy expression. She shook her head. "Don't wanna sleep. Just need a minute." She muttered. "Kiss me."

He did so immediately. She felt liked she'd kissed him so much yet it wasn't even nearly enough. He was the kind of guy you could lose hours of every day just attached to his face. It was something she would never tire of. Her fingers ran through his hair, sighing against his perfect lips. In her post orgasm haze, she just felt soft for him. Everything about him was so enticing, the pull of him overwhelming. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She gripped him tighter than she needed to, suddenly afraid of what would happen when the night was over. He broke the kiss, frowning at her slightly. "What's wrong?" He whispered, fingers trailing across her swollen lips. She kissed his fingertips, holding onto his wrist as she looked at him. "I just...don't want this to end." She muttered. He smiled, rolling his eyes at her. "It doesn't have to." He said simply. She relaxed a little, returning his smile, then pulling him in for yet more kissing.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly. She'd already had an orgasm but he hadn't. He nipped at her bottom lip, hands roaming all over her. He was pretty notorious for his lack of patience and while he had decidedly more restraint in the bedroom, he wasn't a saint. He'd been hard the entire time he'd been fingering her and while he did get off on watching her pleasure, he was beginning to feel needy. He pushed his hips into her thigh, searching for some friction. She pulled away from his lips with a sullen pout. "Why do you still have so many clothes on?" She whined. He chuckled, pushing himself up into a sitting position and shrugging. "Because you haven't taken them off yet." He replied. She sat too, batting her eyelashes and kissing the end of his nose. "Well that's pretty shitty of me. I'm sorry." She joked, pulling his shirt over his head. She'd wanted to be cute and playful but Jungkook without clothes was no joke. She groaned, eyes lingering on his sculpted chest and tight abs. "Jesusfuck" she muttered, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, the dark ink circling his right arm contrasted strongly against his skin. She bit her lip, oogling him shamelessly.He chuckled, feeling a little bashful. She trailed her fingertips down his chest, her lip caught between her teeth as they skimmed past his belly button and down to the waistband of his cargo pants. With a flick, the button popped open and he lifted his ass to help her pull them off. She'd barely got them to his thighs when she let out another groan. He was hard. His cock straining against his black boxers, a wet spot at the head where pre-cum had soaked through the material. She abandoned her mission to remove his pants, feeling strangely compelled, almost like she had no control as she leant forward, peeling the tight band of his underwear back just enough to lick the head of his cock. He let out a soft yelp, obviously not expecting the sudden jolt of pleasure. "Shit" he whispered, his hands scooping her hair back from her face as he straightened out his legs and lifted his hips. His boxers were pushed down enough to free him from them. She moaned quietly, her tongue gliding from the base of his dick to the head, following the thick vein that spanned his length. "Fuck sake. Even your cock is pretty." She said huskily, illiciting a moan from him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, steering the head towards her lips. He watched, entranced as she slowly swirled her tongue over the head, gathering the sticky pre-cum then retreating back into her mouth, grumbling softly with closed eyes as she tasted him. When her eyes opened and fixed on his, his cock throbbed in her hand. With her hair falling around her face, her darkened, swollen lips parted, her eyes glassy, pupils blown, she looked hungry, lowering herself back down to lick the end of his cock again. He hissed, hands gripping tighter in her hair. "I want to fuck your mouth." He panted. She groaned, dropping his cock, it smacked against his belly as he kicked off his cargo pants furiously.

Once off, she threw a leg over his hips sitting across him as her hands tangled in his hair she she caught his lips in a fierce kiss. He groaned into her mouth, he could feel the heat of her wet pussy against his shaft. It took everything he had not to adjust the angle slightly and slide into her. He wanted to desperately but he also wanted to draw the night out as much as he could. He wanted her cock drunk and helpless by the time he'd finished. He could feel her wriggling, trying to rub herself against his cock as she kissed him. He moaned, shifting his position slightly so that his cock slid between her folds, gently rocking so that the head grazed her clit. She whined, breaking the kiss, her head flopping agaisnt his shoulder as she bucked against him. "Fuck me." She whimpered. He smirked, catching her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling softly. "Uh uh" he teased, still undulating his hips to rub his shaft against her clit. "Need you to help me first." He forced her head up, nipping her bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. "Need to fuck this pretty little mouth." He grunted. She moaned, nodding. He smirked, guiding her off him. She slid off the bed, falling to her knees and opening her mouth expectantly. He scrambled over, threading his fingers through her hair as he gripped his throbbing dick and guided it past her lips. He felt her warm, wet mouth engulf him and shuddered, his head falling back, his hips beginning to move slowly, thrusting his cock in and out of her soft mouth. She placed her hands on his muscular thighs, watching his face crease in pleasure as she let him literally fuck her mouth. Her tongue slithered all over his thrusting cock, her mouth filling with saliva as the head hit the back of her throat and she tried to swallow the urge to gag. She stayed still, feeling the needy ache between her thighs grow almost out of control as he used her mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, controlling her movement, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. Her eyes started to water, gasping for air between his thrusts as he lost himself. His moans initially breathy and quiet were getting louder and higher in pitch. His slow, methodical thrusts were getting quicker, more desperate as he babbled words of praise between moans. "Fuck. So good. Just like that. Yes. Yes." She felt his thighs tense, his muscles rigid. "Fuck, gonna cum. Don't wanna stop. Don't wanna stop." He whined. She moved one hand from his thigh, cupping his balls and squeezing softly. He mewled in surprise and suddenly she felt the spurts of hot cum fill her mouth. He shuddered viciously, hands pulling her hair painfully but unable to relax his clenched fists. She continued to gently run her tongue across the head of his dick, feeling it pulse and twitch as he emptied in her throat. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He whimpered, his grip loosening. He'd barely stopped cumming when he untangled his hands and dropped down to his knees in front of her. "Are you alright?" He asked between gasps of air. She swallowed the mouthful he'd just given her and smiled. He'd literally just cum and his first action was to check on her. "I'm fine" she whispered, pulling his head against her shoulder where he crumpled pathetically, still panting and whining softly at the aftershocks of pleasure running though him. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. He was sweaty and the perfectly straightened hair she'd given him was now wavy and damp.

He allowed himself a few minutes to recover, his legs shaky and his lungs burning for air as the warm, tingly satisfying feeling of his orgasm flooded through him and gently eased. He liked the calming touch of her fingers in his hair and the cool feel of her skin against his burning flesh. He felt her pressing kisses to his shoulder and smiled, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "That was....so good." He chuckled. She grinned proudly. "Sorry I didn't warn you...or pull out. I wouldn't usually just cum in your mouth without asking but...fuck, I thought I could hold on a bit longer." He smiled. She giggled, shaking her head. "It's ok. I wanted you to." She grinned. "It was really hot. I really like doing that to you." She admitted. He grinned, curling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "You can do that to me whenever the fuck you want to." He laughed. "Don't tell me that. You'll spend your entire life with your dick in my mouth." She grinned. "Sounds good to me." He shrugged. They both laughed. He stood, offering his hand to pull her up too. He kissed her, standing at the end of the bed, naked bodies pressed together as his hands wandered up and down her back. He could taste himself of her lips and though the thought of it would usually make him feel kind of weird, he just found it incredibly hot. "You taste like my cum" he whispered against her lips, tongue delving deeper into her mouth. She moaned against his lips. "Are you trying to kill me?" She breathed. He chuckled, pushing her back gently until she collided with the bed and fell backwards onto it. "Maybe" he shrugged, crawling into the bed between her legs. She gasped, shuffling backwards. "What you doing?" She muttered. He pushed her legs apart, biting his lip as he looked unabashedly at her glistening pussy. "Hungry." He grunted, dropping down onto his elbows and kissing her thigh. "You're going to kill me." She hissed, watching him kiss closer to her throbbing core. "Shhh. I'm busy." He muttered, teasingly running his tongue along the crease where her leg met her groin. Her breath caught in her throat. Just the sight of his head between her legs had her pussy contracting.

"Jungkook, I..." He stopped her, mid sentence by swiping his tongue through her folds. "Oh my god." She panted. He smirked, another long lick from hole to clit, groaning as the taste of her tingled on his tongue. "Fuck. You taste so good." He murmured. He curled his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs further so that her pussy was open and on display. A groan rattled in his throat, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before he leant forward and flicked his tongue against her leaking hole, feeling the ring of muscle contract wildly, trying to draw something inside. "You need a cock in you, huh?" He muttered, talking to her pussy. He flicked his tongue once more watching the muscles contract again. "I know you're needy. Just wait a little longer. I need to make her cum again and then I'm all yours. Promise." He whispered.

She watched in amazement. He was nestled comfortably between her parted legs, talking to her vagina like it was a separate entity. She knew Jungkook had a habit of talking to inanimate objects, she'd seen him apologise to chairs when he'd walked into them and ask his food if it was cool enough to eat yet but she'd never imagined in a billion years that that extended to pussy too. When he spoke to chairs, it was adorable. When he spoke to her pussy, it was mind meltingly sexy. She kind of wanted to sit there, third wheeling while he had a whole ass conversation with it. Another flick of his tongue broke her thought then as his tongue fluttered up to her clit, her mind went completely blank. He ate pussy the way he ate noodles, slurping, sucking, lips and tongue. Repeat until insane. He didn't seem to care about the sloppy sounds or lip smacking. He was a noisy eater and she fucking loved it. He dived in enthusiastically and for a woman, there was nothing sexier than a guy who ate pussy because he loved it, not because he felt he had to. He groaned happily, his tongue everywhere, lips closing around her clit, sucking and licking her most sensitive spot until he had to tighten his grip on her thighs to keep her still. Her orgasm built quickly, her hips writhing as she clawed at the sheets beneith her, legs kicking involuntarily under his vice like grip. He moaned, forcing her legs up, his hands behind her knees as he hovered over her, head moving as he made out with her clit like it was her mouth. He didn't stop as her orgasm hit, sucking and licking at her pussy until she was convulsing, her cries somewhere between pleasure and distress. "AHHHH JUNGKOOK, PLEASE" she wailed. "Want me to stop?" He panted quickly, his tongue swirling against her overly sensative clit once again. "YES. NO. I DON'T KNOW" she squealed. It felt too intense. Almost painful. But so good. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her past experiences had all ended as soon as she'd cum but apparently that didn't necessarily mean the end to Jungkook. She crushed the pillow to her face, barely muffling the strangled moans escaping her. "Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum again." She cried. This pleasure was different. Sharper. Her muscles burned, being tensed for too long but unable to relax under his persistent tongue. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, her vision went blank, her skin felt on fire and then the raging, hot, sharp pleasure eased. Her muscles slowly unwound and she practically melted into the bed. He was beside her without her even noticing him move. Gentle kisses peppered her face and he moved her sweaty hair back. "Just breath babygirl" he cooed. "Are you alright? Too much?" He whispered. She shook her head, grabbing for his hand and clutching it as her senses returned. "Need you in me." She growled, throwing the pillow aside.

Something about her last orgasm had snapped her resolve and even though the pleasent tingles still washed through her, she couldn't think of anything other than how empty she felt. She'd been craving his cock inside her since they'd kissed against the door and that was hours ago. She couldn't stand another minute of teasing and Jungkooks cocky smirk wasn't helping her any. "Ooh. I really drove you crazy." He teased. "Remind me to do that again..." He kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips and leaving the taste of herself behind, "..and again" He nibbled her bottom lip softly, "...and again!" He whispered. She glared at him as he smiled widely, his nose crinkling. "Don't bunny smile at me." She hissed. He laughed, trailing his fingers across her stomach. "I thought you liked the duality thing. That's what you said earlier." He grinned. "I do...but can you save the bunny bit until after you've fucked me." She whined. He laughed harder. "If you wanna fuck, I'm not stopping you." He shrugged. She eyed him for a second then pushed him onto his back, throwing her leg over his hips. He hummed appreciatively, biting his lip as his eyes roamed slowly down her body, taking his hard cock in his hand and rubbing it against her pussy. "Y'know, I've just had an orgasm. My legs are still wobbly. If you were a gentleman you'd do the work." She smirked, grinding against his cock. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Oh is that right?"

He sat up suddenly, sending her flying backwards, she screeched and giggled, grabbing onto his arms as he flipped them so that he was on top of her. He took her hands, pinning them either side of her head. "I was letting you take control cause you said you wanted to fuck. But now..." He paused, kissing her, groaning into her mouth as his tongue slid against hers. "...I'm in control...and I don't wanna fuck. I'm gonna go nice...and slow." He grinned as she started to protest, taking his dick in his hand and rubbing the end against her hole, chuckling as her words stopped instantly. "Yeah, thought that'd shut you up." He lined up, pushing forward, his eyes fluttering as he felt the soft slick heat stretch and swallow the tip. She tried to raise her hips but he pinned them down with a smirk, kissing her softly before resting his forehead against hers. "No baby. Slowly." He breathed, pushing forward a little more. He savoured the feeling of her tight, hot pussy accepting him inch by inch until his hips were flush against hers. He exhaled heavily, his eyes closing as he pressed his lips to hers hungrily. "Wrap your legs around me" he whispered, looking into her lust filled eyes. With her hips lifted, it changed the angle allow him even deeper. "Oh fuck" she grunted, her hands clenched against his shoulders. "Too deep?" He muttered. She shook her head. She felt stretched and filled completely. He was deep enough to make her toes curl. He withdrew just as slowly, whining, his mouth falling open and his brow creasing. "Oh shit." He groaned. He'd wanted to go slow. To tease her until she couldn't stand it anymore but he was the one who gave in first. She was hot and tight and velvety soft. His stomach tightened, his hips moving faster automatically. He kissed her desperately, moans mingling together along with their tongues. Every time he started to pull out, her walls clamped around him, holding and squeezing his throbbing cock. He could barely form a thought, feverishly driving his cock into her over and over as she moaned beneath him. He could feel her getting tighter and wetter. He forced his eyes open. "Look at me" he panted. Her eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. He moaned deeply, the pleasured expression etched on his face along with the sounds he was making only pushed her closer to release. He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, the perfect drag of his thick, hot cock, so hard, so deep, she'd never felt anything like it. She felt like everything about him was designed to please. "Jungkook..." she purred, her hips rolling and bucking in rhythm with his. "Fuck. I'm so close." He moaned. She bit her lip. His golden skin gleamed as sweat began to roll down his neck and onto his chest. Her back arched, the steady thrust of his cock pounding into her driving her closer and closer. She gripped his back, her nails clenching. He felt the bite of pain and hissed, thrusting harder. "Let go baby. Let me see you come undone one more time." He growled. It was like she didn't have a choice, her body simply obeying, her orgasm shattering through her. He felt it, the hard clench of her walls followed by the rapid pulsing, milking his cock, pulling his cum from him. His steady rhythm faltered, his head dropping onto her shoulder as he fucked through the pleasure, his cum spilling deep inside her making his thrusting sloppier. He was still twitching as his arms gave out and he flopped heavily down on top of her, gasping for air, his head swimming and buzzing. He could feel her hot, ragged breath against his ear. He wanted to move off of her, check she was ok, do something but he couldn't move. He felt heavy, his mind cloudy. He just about managed to throw his leg over her hips and slither beside her, dozily pulling her into his arms as he pressed soft, breathless kisses to her forehead. "Roll" he mumbled, tapping her hip. She forced herself onto her side, grumbling contentedly as he curled up behind her, spooning her. "I think I'm gonna pass out." She whispered, giggling weakly. He chuckled, his own eyes heavy, the urge to sleep clawing

at him insistently. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He muttered.

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But���sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. ���I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I am exhausted. This year has exhausted me. And even if there weren’t a pandemic, all id wanna do is stay home in a little nest and eat way too much comfort food and pass out at 12:01 AM. So bc I’m a self-indulgent sucker for soft stuff, have bb Bucky and Steve being soft for New Years :)

Bucky is bone-tired. He had been all week, all month, and honestly all year. Everything that could’ve gone wrong did, and while he was grateful for what he had gotten through, all he wanted to do was sleep through all next year. But instead, he had his lovely boyfriend in the kitchen cooking fried rice for the both of them to watch The Great British Baking Show to. Bucky didn’t even realize how tired he was until Steve said that morning that maybe they could just cancel their virtual parties and stay in together - “just cause it’s online doesn’t mean I don’t see how little social battery you have left, sweetheart. There’s plenty of time to catch up with everyone, and we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. You wanna just have a quiet evening, you and me? We can even order those expensive cookies you like for after dinner”

So that’s exactly what they were doing. When the fried rice was finished, Steve set it up in two full bowls with all the sauces he knew Bucky liked. And Bucky, even though he didn’t want to admit it, was too tired to not ask to just be held by Steve as they ate. Of course it wasn’t a problem, but Steve knew Bucky got shy about asking for what he needed, even something as simple as a hug. Bucky couldn’t have pictured a better evening - both of them snug together like two Squishmallows eating away, occasionally dropping ham or a veggie for their dogs at the end of the couch, and rewatching the best baking show they could. 2022 would be the year Bucky got to relax, he swore it, and he’d make Steve relax just as much. I mean, who doesn’t want a nap buddy?

"I am exhausted. This year has exhausted me." I feel that man, yeah. Though, you're not alone definitely. I know a ton of people feel the same <3 so, to a better year.

Thank you for this little drabble!

I love this.

Yes. Even virtual events can be exhausting and Steve can see it in Bucky’s eyes, normally excited to see friends and family, dulled. Instantly Steve doesn't feel disappointed, knowing that he's going to make Bucky feel comfortable enough to back out of any of their online parties, he just feels the urge to comfort him. He wishes he could recharge Bucky with just a hug that he knows his baby always has trouble asking for. But, it won't work like that. Not for this level of tired. Steve will have to help Bucky work toward refreshing. He can start with cookies and continue with a silent promise to make the upcoming year their most relaxing yet.

Happy new year! 🎉

[mrvdocks]

Selcouth

You shouldn’t have come on this stupid trip. Not even if it had opened you up more to him. If anything, you felt this trip had soured the more time had passed. Alex could tell. But you two had to play it safe, play the parts that Karl thought you two assumed from his perspective. You resented that, having to stick to an image that he had formed of you, one that tried to act like you weren’t so in love with him it made your heart ache. 

Or,

You and Alex plan a meet up with Karl for a week trip, only to have your feelings for Karl be put to the test when things don’t pan out how you all planned. (Karl Jacobs/Reader)  

After

“Stop it.” He says, voice serious and no longer joyful or even hinting at friendliness. You’ve heard Karl be serious many times but this time sounded different. This time he sounded like he was scolding a child after being annoyed by them repeatedly. 

“Stop what?” You ask, pretending to be aloof.

“Stop acting like a child!”

“I’m the one acting like a chil - since when was doing something I want, acting like a child?!” 

He makes a hmpf sound. “What is this supposed to be, payback? Is that what you’re playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything here, Karl. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He scoffs. “Oh yeah? So you just suddenly developed an interest in Dream overnight, is that it?” 

“Honestly, why do you care so much? My love life isn’t up for debate here.” 

“Oh and mine was?” He retorts.

You knew he would bring it up, you just knew. It was perfect ammo right now. You stutter to find the right words. 

“What - what do you want from me Karl? I don’t need to explain myself to you. Have you considered that maybe I just finally got tired of being alone? That maybe I just needed someone?” 

Karl tries to not let this dig push him over the line but his frustration and jealousy wouldn’t let him stop seeing green. 

“Is this what you do? You like playing with people's feelings? Do you think screwing my friends is going to help you or is this another one of your phases?”

It feels good in the heat of the moment but he knows he’s messed up as soon as he says it. 

Your mouth drops open. Incredible. In-fucking-credible.  

You laugh bitterly, trying to put up a strong front but your voice betrays you by cracking. “That’s low, Karl. That’s - really fucking low.”

Instantly regretting it, he tries to make amends but can’t put words together properly. His mind reels, heart races, palms suddenly feel sweaty and all he can manage is your name. “(Y/N)......I -”

You can’t bear to hear another false apology spill from his lips. If that’s how he felt, then there was no changing his mind. No matter how badly you wanted to. 

“No you’re right. You’re right. You made your choice and so have I. Goodbye Karl.” You conclude and hang up, throwing your phone across the room. You stare at it until your vision becomes blurry with tears. 

Where do you go from here?

Before

You didn’t think that when you first started streaming that you’d end up at the point you were now. You just wanted to have fun with your friends, maybe meet some new people, share your interests along with the loads of games you found amusing. Interestingly enough, your personality and content seemed to resonate with a lot of people. 

Pretty soon you’d become one of the top streamers on Twitch behind the other big talent that once dominated your dashboard. 

You’d made your way into the big leagues with names like GeorgeNotFound, Dream, Quackity, Nihachu, and even Karl Jacobs. Though you’d met the latter two years ago, you’d become quick friends with Quackity, or Alex(is), having bonded over having similar backgrounds and interests. 

He was more like a brother to you than anything, much to the chagrin of many in the chat. You believe it had to do with growing up in a family with mostly girl siblings. 

Your collabs with Alex garnered lots of views, with people tuning into the streams to watch you two yell at each other chaotically while playing odd games or attempting to bake things. 

Of course, while he did your side of content, that meant you had to hold up your end of the bargain. Minecraft wasn’t your strong suit at first, but as time went on and with some help from both Alex and Karl, you became a little more proficient. 

Karl was no stranger to you, not anymore. Alex had introduced you to Karl a little after he started streaming. You’d only really known him from a couple of Jimmy’s videos. 

He seemed kind, goofy, friendly, and all around a pretty fun guy to be around. Which is why when you started to fall just a little bit for him, you were surprised. You came into this Twitch thing with one rule. Don’t fall for people. 

Things could get messy, it was always a given. The fandoms would tear into you or them, people were unpredictable. It was just better to keep everyone at an arm's length when it came to shipping. 

You were thankful nothing had come to fruition from your friendship with Alex. If anything, all you saw were people shipping you platonically. Though you two would often tease each other if one had a crush on someone. 

Your dynamic with Alex meant that you had countless ridiculous and outrageous moments together, often documenting them when he would visit you in LA from Mexico or you going to Mexico to see family and stopping by to visit him.

It was starting to become a thing you two did a few times a year. This year was no different. Even when the pandemic seemed to sour your plans, you both promised to stay safe and healthy and limit the trips. So far, this was going to be the first trip you two would be taking anywhere. 

Your phone buzzed next to you as you scrolled mindlessly through your discord server. You laughed a bit here and there, looking at memes and chatting with people. 

Alex’s text ringtone was him rage quitting during a game where you absolutely obliterated his ass. You either cracked up at the sound of it or jumped in sudden fear when it bounced off the walls of your apartment in the middle of the night. 

A: Hey wiener, are you packed?? I know you take like three business days to get ready. 

You rolled your eyes. He was supposed to be coming to visit you first before you both made the flight out to see Karl in North Carolina. 

Y: Me??? I’ve been packed since last week. I thought you were supposed to be on the flight here already 🙄

A: I may or may not…...already be out. 💀

Your eyes widen. You abandon the chat and hit the FaceTime button. He lets it ring for a good five seconds before he accepts it and greets you with a close up of his face.

“What am I looking at?” You ask, feigning disgust. 

“My beautiful face, what else?” 

“Really? I thought it was a dog’s asshole.” You chuckle. 

He guffaws. “Fuck off! First I get stranded here in LA, then I get some shitty chicken nuggets and now you’re calling me butt ugly! Why does life hate me so much?!”

“Menso! You were supposed to call me when you - wait did you say chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah, I still have the rest but I can’t finish because every time I chew I think of the pink slime.”

“Ugh don’t talk about Supersize Me, I’m still having nightmares about it. Who shows that to little kids??” 

“Yeah well it’s shit, Burger King’s better.” He admits, munching down on the nuggets. He chews obnoxiously near the phone speaker to annoy you so you tap at the screen in retaliation. 

“Hey, I was supposed to record you trying out American McDonald’s! Why are you taking sweet sweet content away from me? Now no one gets to see you lose your McVirginity!”

He sputters through a mouthful of nuggets and does a combination of coughing and laughing. 

“Anyways,” he says, finally nugget free. “You coming or not? I don’t think I wanna sleep on the airport floor.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” 

The airport was a forty five minute drive, thirty if you stepped on it and committed several traffic violations. 

Maybe that would make good content. 

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your home, fully prepared to go fast and furious. You put your windows down, connected your phone to the aux and blasted Tokyo Drift as you merged into the freeway. 

Half an hour later, you’d arrived at a packed airport pick up area and texted Alex to let him know you’d arrived. He replied that he was starting to feel the effect of the chicken nuggets but that he would push through people to get out of the building before he caught anything from anyone.

Once you could make out his figure up ahead in front of the other cars, you got the bright idea to switch your music to something more interesting. You pulled up one of his videos where he was fully invested in a rendition of Hey There Delilah and honked excessively once you got closer to him. He looked around and pulled his beanie down lower to hide his face in embarrassment. 

You and the prerecorded Quackity sang in off key unison with the volume up as much as you could before he threw his luggage and bags into your backseat, hopped into the passenger seat and put the volume down.

“Never do that again.” 

“Hey, that was your welcome salute. I don’t do that for other people, you’re special and I like it.”

“Could you try liking me a little less? I could do without all the cringe covers.” He laughed to himself as he buckled up. 

The ride home consisted of a mix of very poor and impressive impressions of characters that would’ve annoyed nearly anyone else except you. Alex alternated from a gruff impression of Squidward to a raunchy Mickey Mouse that left you doubling over and gripping the steering wheel. You competed with him, doing your worst impression of Cookie Monster and Goofy. 

Your impression competition was interrupted by a phone call, Karl’s photo flashing flipped a panic switch in you as you scrambled to grab your phone. Alex takes your phone and extends his arm far from your reach. 

“Ah, ah, ah! No texting and driving! You want to kill us or something?!”

“I need to answer! What if he thinks I’m ignoring him?”

“I got it, I got it.” He assures, sliding the bar to unlock the phone and meet Karl face to face.

Karl makes a surprised sound, greeting Alex almost immediately. 

“Hey bub!” You chime in, keeping your eyes on the road but getting a glimpse of Karl in his frog outfit. 

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you were driving.”

“No it’s okay! I’m just coming back from picking up this idiot.” 

“Who you calling idiot, dumbass?” Alex suddenly burst into his Mickey Mouse voice from earlier, ending it with the iconic Mickey laugh. 

Karl seemed to eat it up, breaking into laughter. It was infectious enough to make you chuckle. 

“You guys excited for the trip? It’s looking really pretty here this time of year. I can’t wait to show you around.”

“You mean show us your sweater collection?” Alex jabs.

You nudge him roughly to the side as a warning, glaring at him when he glances at you. 

You’d hoped that the change of scenery would do you some good. LA was an endless heap of  heat that you never could seem to escape. Not even with air conditioning. It was October already, which normally would mean Fall, orange leaves, pumpkins everywhere, a complete shift in temperature, right? Nope. 

It was the devil’s asshole all year round, something Alex could attest to. 

“Don’t mind him, I think he was dropped as a kid.”

“How dare you! There is nothing wrong with me, I’m perfect.”

“Ha! Sure. As if you don’t have a lot of things wrong with you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

You tap at the time on your screen, “We don’t have enough time to get into it.”

You turn your attention back to Karl, very attentive to your bickering, small chuckles here and there. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with you that you felt your hands falter on the wheel. You were lucky enough that it didn’t make you stray away from the road. 

“Um - you know what? We’ll call you later, we’re almost home anyways.” 

“Okay! Be safe! Goodnight. ” Karl bids you both goodbye and poses his phone in front of him in order to hug it from afar, as if to hug both you and Alex. 

You groan to yourself, pretending to bang your head against the steering wheel as soon as you pull up to your complex. Alex laughs at your misery. 

“Oh man, you really are down BAD.”

“Shut up! I regret telling you things sometimes.” 

“No one said you had to! I guess I just have one of those faces.” He Chad swipes at his chin and squints at you.

“Yeah, punch able.” You remark with a quirk of your brow, slipping out of the car and heading to your front door. 

Alex follows, grabbing his things in a hurry before you can get the chance to lock him out and leave him to sleep with the coyotes. 

“Don’t leave me out here! I’m too delicious to die!” He cries.

You’re awoken by the feeling of warm sunlight on the left side of your face. You hesitate to move, feeling tired already even though you’re sure you slept longer than you should’ve. 

You prop yourself up by your elbows, shielding your face from the sun with your hand. You get out of bed groggily, staring at the floor for a second before making your way to the living room and finding Alex sleeping in a weird position. 

Amused, you rush back into your room and grab your phone to document this moment and post it on Twitter. However when you return, he’s gone. You lean over the couch to check if he’s hiding behind it but he’s nowhere to be found. 

You’re about to crouch to check for his feet or any sign of him when you feel fingers dig in your sides. You yelp in fear and surprise, smacking your attacker until he starts to yell in a shrill voice. 

Alex pushes you over the couch making you fall on your ass. 

“WHAT THE HELL?!” You scream. 

“That’s what you get for trying to take pictures of me!”

You try to stand, rubbing at your sore ass. “Ugh, what are you, a cryptid or something? The people have a right to see!”

“No one gets to see me in the morning! No one! I need my beauty sleep more than you.”

He extends a helping hand for you to take in a moment of truce but you take advantage and pull him down with you to land on his back. He groans when he hits the ground and curses at you in Spanish. 

“Play time’s over, we gotta get ready. The plane leaves in…..one hour????!” 

Your phone says it’s only nine in the morning but you hazily remember the tickets reading ten thirty. 

“No way! I have to take a shower, I have to order food….” He begins, counting on his fingers the various things he suddenly had to do but you stop him by running into your room and getting your bags. 

“No time! Brush your teeth, get dressed, I’ll buy us something at the airport.”

“NOOOO! Airport food is disgusting! Can’t we stop somewhere?” 

“Like I said, no time! We gotta be out of here in thirty minutes.”

He grumbles under his breath. 

“I heard that!” You yell behind you, grabbing a towel and turning on your shower. 

After Alex rummaged through your kitchen, stuffed himself with some snacks and an alarming amount of frozen food, you urged him to shower in the little time span you had left and ordered a ride to take you to the airport. 

You had to basically pull him away from putting on his finishing touches with his beanie, with him complaining that his hair wouldn’t settle under it the way he wanted. You rolled your eyes and shoved him and your stuff into the Uber and kissed California goodbye. 

You two started planning what you’d do in NC as soon as you landed, besides getting food. You could practically hear Alex’s stomach grumbling the whole drive to the airport and even after the Uber gave him some snacks.

There was a sense of urgency that made your stomach twist in knots until you’d arrived at the drop off section. You stuck your tickets in your pocket as you hurried Alex, dragging him and urging him to run faster than he’d ever imagined to catch the plane. 

With only minutes to spare, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you panted and tried to regain it once you were at the gate. Alex makes a joke about you being out of breath to the pretty attendant that you make a note of later, just in case he tried to flirt with her. 

Alex followed the attendant like a puppy while you popped your phone out from your pocket and snapped a photo of the plane. You debated sending it to Karl, not sure if wanting your boarding to be a surprise or not. You relented to posting it on Twitter and sending it to Karl. 

Big things coming ;) You tweeted, exiting out of the app as quickly as you’d posted it, knowing you’d be flooded with notifications. 

You switched over to message, sending it to Karl but unsure if he would be awake right now. Maybe it would make his day better. 

On our way! See you soon! :)) 

You ran to catch up with Alex, finding him still talking to the attendant. In the most bitchy voice you could muster, you hugged him from the side and nestled your head into his shoulder. 

“I’m so happy we’re going on vacation babe, thank you!” 

His face fell, the attendant suddenly losing interest and suggesting the two of you find your seats. You intertwine your hands with his and hold it up, making a joke about how you two were inseparable. 

He suppresses the urge to fight you and instead screams internally, whisper yelling to you as you both sit. “You couldn’t let me be a Chad once? Just once!” 

“That’s what you get for slamming me on my ass earlier.”

[waterparchive]

Woodrow Whyte — May 19, 2021

"I don’t know if I want a lot of musicians I love to know I exist because then the possibility of them thinking I suck comes into play"

To quote a famous drag queen, the cheek, the nerve, the gall, the audacity and the gumption of Waterparks to name their fourth album Greatest Hits. It's a bold statement but if anyone can pull it off, it's the Houston trio and their charismatic frontman Awsten Knight.

Like many releases this year, most of the record was written, recorded and produced during the pandemic, and the enforced downtime leant itself to introspective songwriting sessions.

"When you’re alone for so long, it takes a toll on you and forces you to examine yourself more", Awsten said in promotional materials for the album, before adding “When you hear this album, I hope you walk away feeling like there’s no other band doing anything like it. In my opinion, these are our Greatest Hits. As long as you go into it without expectations of prior things, I think it’s going to be your favourite fucking Waterparks album.”

Fans won't have long to find out if the Greatest Hits lives up to its name, as it drops this Friday. To tide you over until then, we asked Awsten to take a trip down memory lane with our My Life In 20 questions.

20) What did you learn about yourself in 2020?

I learned that I can stop using social media if I want to. I knew we weren’t gonna be doing anything so I took a good 6 months off and when it was time to come back in September, I really didn’t want to. I broke that addiction to checking Twitter all the time. It was cool though because we also grew a lot in that period, so I didn’t have to feel guilty for taking that time.

19) What was your favourite album from 2019?

FANDOM. I make all the songs I wish someone else would because they’d be my favourite band if they did. I’ll also say Igor, Amo, Weezer (Black Album), When We All Fall Asleep..., Anonymous, 7, prob some others but the wiki list is very long and I still have 18 questions to go.

18) What was the most important thing to happen in your life when you were 18?

Graduating high school, I guess? Getting a car was good too! I got my permit late because I was scared to drive and didn’t really care about going places, what a dope guy!

17) Who was your crush at 17?

I’m kinda blanking. Maybe Miley Cyrus?? Do people normally remember this stuff?

16) What can you remember about your 16th birthday?

I truly don’t remember it. I was probably wearing a studded belt if that helps though.

15) What did you hate at 15 which you love now?

I hated the straight edge youth crew dudes that would hang out at local venues and crowd kill when there were only like 40 people, like bitch you’re 28 and I’m 15, stop punching kids you my children my bride looking bitch good lordddd corniest dudes ever, looking like Christian Joe Dirt punching kids for scene clout.

14) What TV show were you obsessed with at 14?

I think 14 I was into Dexter. Amazing show but oh my god that ending. I didn’t have opinions back then about quality, but even at that time I was like 

13) 13 is unlucky for some. Do you have anything that you’re superstitious about?

I’m very superstitious. Before shows I need everyone to stay away from me and let me play solitaire. I don’t walk under ladders, you can’t split the pole when you’re walking with people, I sage myself when I come home from anywhere, whole lotta stuff, baby.

12) If you could live the life of any other person for 12 hours, who would you be and why?

Honestly I’m fine being me, but if it was just for like 12 hours uhhhhh Charlie Day so I can do that thing with my voice when he says “OOAH HELLLLAOOOH”

11) Who was your best friend when you were 11?

Everyone I was friends with before music was just a friend via proximity, like we were on the same sports teams or had the same classes. That’s how it is when you’re younger. You don’t choose that shit when you’re younger, you’re just like, 'You’re near me, what’s up do u like Captain Underpants?' That’s kinda the deal until you’re old enough to be picky. I remember being friends with these twin dudes on swim team Benito and Ernesto, shout out those dudes wherever they are!!!

10) Where do you hope you'll be in ten years time?

Somewhere the internet can’t find me. I hope I’m into some stupid shit like boats, no wifi on the water.

9) What was your biggest fear when you were 9?

Ghosts, I think. And yeah, I used to hear voices! Not dope!

8) When you were 8, what did you want to be when you grew up?  

I used to want to be an author/illustrator for kids books and an archaeologist! I’ll still do the kids books but, man, archaeologists have to be in the sun so much and I need to keep my skin cute so people buy my album. Greatest Hits May 21.

7) Which of the seven deadly sins are you most guilty of?

I just googled them for a refresher and it’s all anime. I’d either say envy or anger. By the way, who made this? It’s stupid as fuck that “anger” is a sin, like huh??????? Bitch I’ll kill you.

6) You can invite six people to your dream dinner party (dead or alive), who would you invite?

No dead people at my dinner party, gross smell. Here’s the thing, I don’t know if I want a lot of musicians I love to know I exist because then the possibility of them thinking I suck comes into play, and if someone like Donald Glover actively had the thought “god, Awsten sucks”, I’d be devastated. So I don't know if I want anyone in that realm to know who I am, I’m cool with loving them from afar.

I’m gonna say a group of people who have nothing to do with me. Like, 6 people who are working on the next Conjuring movie and I just wanna listen in on them and be like, “holy shit??????” I love y’all so much. Quick shout out Lin Shaye.

5) Name five things you can't live without.

Besides the obvious ones: dogs, personal space, sunglasses that cover most of my head, coffee, and tennis/biking. I need to tire myself out as much as possible or I get moody.

4) Describe yourself in four words.

Capricorn. Flexible. Weirdly tall.

3) Your top three songs of all time.

The Beach Boys - 'Wouldn’t It Be Nice', Rihanna - 'Bitch Better Have My Money', and Macklemore - 'Thrift Shop'.

2) Name two things on your bucket list.

A platinum Waterparks album, get a horror music video produced by Blum House.

1) What or who is your one true love?

Having one true love would be scary! Too much emphasis on one thing, too much to lose; can’t put that much on one person either! That’s a crazy level of pressure and expectation! Also Gwen Stefani.

[glassesandkim]

Ok y’all I’m back now to drop my opinions about Thursday’s schmico. I wanted to wait a couple of days because I wanted to sort out how I felt about it and if it would change. But mainly, I didn’t want to crash the party with my thoughts because, spoiler, they don’t agree with the general consensus and I don’t wanna be that person who ruins fun things. 

My thoughts are under the cut.

First of all, @bloomingundertheshadows​ just wrote a post that pretty much sums up how I feel and have always felt about schmico. 

S15 Schmico is still god tier and it was also in Levi’s POV but that was necessary because that was Levi’s coming out story. One would think, after that, we’d get an arc centered around the other half and we kind of did with Josh. But then Levi stole it with his hero act and unsent flowers.

And that’s just been happening, over and over and over and over again. 

Revealing that Nico never told his parents about his sexuality → the focus is on how Levi is hurt that Nico doesn’t want to talk about his feelings 

Nico possibly getting a job → the focus was on Levi trying to get Nico to talk

Nico saying he hates everything after he stood up to Owen and the story showed Nico and Tseng had been facing racial prejudice and racism → Levi: Oh, are you talking about me???????? And then Nico has to say no and then there’s no mention of why the hell someone would come out of a hospital, all pissed off and distressed and tired, ripping their mask off and -- (ok i’ll stop)

Nico saying he feels numb (about Deluca’s death?? About covid??) → Levi whiplashing it back to “OH YOU TALKING ABOUT US AKA ME AND HOW I THINK YOU FEEL ABOUT US??”

I could go on and argue every single second that Nico shows up is for the benefit of Levi’s story but those are the clearest examples.

Also read the wiki page for Nico Kim and you can smell the bias. It stinks.

So this reunion last episode? It’s about Levi. We never know how Nico came to this change, how he got over being unable to say I love you back to Levi, and how he coped during the entire pandemic or how he coped when Levi ran away after he asked him to move in.

Also, the most abhorrent line I’ve ever heard and which still makes me want to gag after 48 hours: 

Levi: That is so... unlike you.

Nico: It’s like you.

I am all for people doing things they usually wouldn’t do themselves for their loved ones. It shows listening skills, shows that they know what their loved ones want. and it shows willingness to compromise. 

But grey’s went and done it in a way that basically said, “I'm your clone now so love me!!!” Because s15 was all about loving yourself and Levi achieved that so obviously that’s the only way for Nico to get Levi to accept him as who he is (or isn’t anymore because, remember, Nico changed to be like Levi).

And I realized that’s also what Nico said back in s15 after Josh. When he said he doesn’t know how Levi does it, how he fails but gets back up. BUT IT DOESN’T MEAN NICO WANTS TO BE LEVI???

Schmico is written like a self insert fanfic. The author is a (straight) teenage girl and Nico is her dream guy. His only personality is: Hot Guy and Obsessed with Me. 

Grey’s, just say you don’t know how to write a gay storyline with an Asian character in it and give up. 

And it really took Levi being flirted with to make him realize he (still) loves Nico and there were no consequences. Nico doesn’t want to talk about his feelings and suddenly he’s Sex Addict and Manipulator. Nico thinks about taking a job and he’s suddenly Not Sacrificing and Compromising in his Relationship.

I’m just continuously baffled and disgusted by the way schmico is written. I can’t even like the fluff and cute moments anymore because I know it’s written by people who think relationships work on some scale of justice and who can talk louder and more. That if one partner is shutting you out, you need to pry that baby open and if you can’t do it, then it’s THEIR fault because they wouldn’t let you in. 

Nico’s essentially the villain to Levi’s story instead of a character that has to go through his own struggles and changes and realizations. If he does something Levi doesn���t understand, he’s bad. We hardly have Levi doing the work to try to figure out what’s going on with Nico. Instead we have Levi giving out ultimatums. 

So after I’ve written this out, I realize there was nothing new that I had to say. Last ep’s schmico was just the same rendition of all the schmico we’ve ever seen except it was on FULL blast and lit up by the candles that Meredith lit up for Derek 10 years ago.

[shnowbilicat]

Why Overwatch 2 will be just fine

Before we begin I wanna say that all of this are my own perspectives and thoughts, so take it with a grain of salt ... but tbh yall should sit down and chill until the game drops, kay? Kay.

Soo, there was another OW2 livestream not so long ago and people started freaking out and boycotting the devs. Why? 5v5 and there will be only one tank now.

I'm hearing left and right how much of a problem this will be and I can't stop getting annoyed about the fact that people really are SO upset that there will be no 'off tank' in their games and how the devs 'refuse to balance their game' instead and how there will be smurfing and- you get the point.

Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm not into the 'meta' cuz my competitive rank is a 'metal' one, OR MAYBE I'm just this guy who says 'it just game, why u have to be mad??'.

I personally really look forward to OW2, mostly for the PvE part of the game as it sounds so massive and seeing how much they've done with the very first mission they've shown us and the fact that we can level up our heroes and equip unique abilities just makes me giggle and excited about the final release and future events and updates!

So many cutscenes, so many new animations and skins, so many new maps to play X33

And 5v5?? I'm looking forward to that too!

No, for real, one tank does not make or break anything for me, mostly for one single tiny reason alone.

A Tank is still a Tank.

I dunno if you ever played other games where there are Tank, DPS and Healing roles, like LoL, Dota, heck even Pokémon and Fire Emblem.

Tank roles have one single purpose; be the literal meat shield for their team.

I dunno about you, but I've never played a Tank in my life that wasn't completely about taking the attention from my squishies and jump in to protect them. And according to my ranking I'm a Tank main, sure my highest Rank is Platinium, but just because I don't grind my way up like any other madmen.

Tanks are SUPPOSED to be in the front lines taking the damage, making a way through the crowd, mess up the other team's formation. I also believe I'm not the end all be all for my squishies, I trust in them that they can protect themselves when I go in for a kill, which they can with their several abilities like a sleeping dart, climbing walls or building up a wall to hide behind.

Here we have Pro Tank players freaking out and complaining that 'they lack a tank' that there won't be any strategy involved cuz they are missing another meat shield that has their back etc. etc.

Again, I'm just a noob playing my Quickplay and Arcade games for lootboxes ... but god am I sick and tired of hearing these excuses from one trick pro players who have been stuck in their metas and comps.

SURE they are up there for a reason, but the fact of the matter is that I don't care if you do not want a 'dive comp' if I wanna play D.Va to get myself a 6 stack Ult kill, kay??

I don't care if we have a Zarya and Roady, they gonna wreck our enemy team and I'm gonna pump up their asses with as much healing as they want, kay???

The standarts OW pro players have been setting time and time again has muddied the waters of normal play. Because of them Symmetra and Bastion have been thrown into the corner of the back room and will never be seen in normal play because 'they ain't meta'.

Bro, I've been a Bastion main since Comp Season 3 and I've been wrecking my games left and right whenever I play him. I do not need your meta to succed, I don't need a Mercy pocket or a Rein shield because people like the pros set the standart that Bastion is ONLY useful when these criteria are met.

Not only that, BECAUSE of their standarts I forced myself into being able to switch to any roles with heroes that do just as much good as my Bastion. And that was actually a very good thing! Now I'm a solid Gold-Plat rank player that can play pretty much every hero in Mystery Heroes.

... and then I see our current pros. Who are scared shitless that their off tank players gonna play ... DPS?? Or Healing?? Like, weren't you guys moaning about one tricks? About people not being able to switch?

You ... you do know how OW started, right? OW was a game the devs SPECIFICALLY made to be open gameplay, they WANTED people to switch to heroes and experiment with new combos.

But lately we had buffs, nerfs, change in ques and all you can do is complain about it.

YOU put the standart 2-2-2 because people started to go tank-healers only, or Genji-healing only, or some shit because that was OP.

YOU were the ones forcing in a role que system because other people could not or refused to switch their roles.

YOU forced the devs to rework ALL HEROES to your standarts. Granted, here you got the devs to make Symmetra interesting to play, Bastion and Torb more viable and Brig to be more fair ... for you, because I cannot play Brig to safe my life, she's such a squishy and I die the second the round starts.

If you cannot handle what pro players dished out years ago, then please do me the favor and stay with your Rein-Zayra combo for the rest of eternity thxx

And we haven't talked about the OW2 hero reworks and new maps with more things to hide behind yet! Making each Tank more viable and more enjoyable to play. And guess what? THEY AIN'T DONE YET! I've seen alot of players moarn that the game will be SO unfair ... but we haven't seen anything yet. Espacially since they haven't told us any DPS or Healing ability changes either.

'But BUT 3 years of development!!!' so?? 3 years could mean anything. Not to mention that the EXACT SAME DEVS are working on OW2 are ALSO STILL working on OW 1 at the same time. And it's a pandemic. Sure they are a huge team, but they have a huge goal; aka THE STORY MODE WITH HUNDRETS OF HOURS OF PLAYTIME AND ANIMATED CUTSCENES.

They still have a long ass way to go, so chill out and give em some time. There are over 30 heroes they have to rework, remodel, give a part in the Story. Multiple new Maps to work, maybe even rework, test and make sure everything is as polished as possible for the general player base; which ain't the pros btw.

So, with pretty much mostly everything said, what's my final stand?

I would say to everybody worrying that the game won't be good; trust me, it'll be just fine.

If you don't enjoy the 5v5, there will still be Arcade and Story to keep ya company, like, I've been playing Quickplay and Arcade 99% of the time, you gonna be fine fam.

And if you're a pro player who JUST CANNOT handle 5v5 without their off tank puppy jumping after them then here's a tip:

Don't play Overwatch 2.

Nobody will force you to it, Overwatch will still exist with it's 6v6 2 tanks, 2 DPS, 2 healing boringness and it's frozen metas and comps and the same ass people in the Top 100 you play against each and every day with tiny buffs and nerfs every other day.

Meanwhile me and my squad will enjoy more shenanigans in OW2.

I'll gladly play momma Orisa and keep my friends save and sound, while also hooking every evil doer who dares come close to em ewe

Overwatch 2 is for us, the players who play the game like the devs intended; play the heroes you want, no matter if you lose or fail and have to pick yourself up again to grow and become stronger.

Overwatch 2 will be just fine.

[honeyedlashton]

Leave Your Mark With Every Bite

Words: 2,949

Warnings: smut, also general anxiousness and anxiety around this whole thing.

Ship: Lashton (I’m so sorry I’m in a mood to write them half broken up)

A/N: this idea hit me in the shower, and I don’t know why I felt the compulsive need to make these two be trainwrecks, but, fuck am I here for it. I need angsty Lashton cause I’ve written too much fluff. So here you go. Here’s some “we shouldn’t be doing this,” for reasons I’ll leave open to interpretation. (I have a few in mind but, not everyone agrees with my sentiments, so I don’t wanna step on toes.) So take it as you will, here’s this toxic ass version of their relationship.

—————————————————————————— 

“i need to see u”

The white letters on the blue bubble stood out. The first non-grey text in a week. Luke shook reading it over. He shook even worse seeing the three little grey dots pop up on the opposite side of the screen.

It was a long time. Too long watching the graceful bouncing of the oversized ellipses. Their grace did nothing to soothe Luke’s mind. It had to have been a full minute l before those grey dots turned into: “On my way now...”

Luke could only guess the horrible things Ashton had erased. It was implied through the passive punctuation. And not for the first time this hour, he felt guilty.

He sat on his couch and hugged his knees to his chest, he was wrapped in his big white hoodie. He was safe, but not really. He was still shaking and racing a million miles a minute.

He found doing nothing made the seconds feel twice as long. So he fidgeted with his guitar. Not really playing anything, just giving his hands something to do. Anything to keep him from thinking too hard about what he was doing. Or why he was feeling guilty at all. He knew he was in the right, so why did he feel so horrible about it?

Eleven minutes was all it took. Enough time to send Luke into multiple spirals, and enough time for Ashton to arrive.

Luke saw the lights in the driveway, and practically threw his guitar out of his lap getting up to race out the door. He grabbed his keys as he left.

It was one of those peculiar times in the mid-spring where it rained in L.A.

Luke didn’t slow down, running up to the passenger door and got inside, barely looking at the illuminated figure that was warm and dry and staring back at him. Music played softly through the speakers, some melancholy soundtrack that seemed to match his mood perfectly. Luke buckled in before either of them could say anything. “Let’s just...drive,” Luke managed after a second, finally looking over at Ashton.

Finally. The interior lights had switched off, but the dashboard’s white lights on the dials made Ashton’s cheek and jawline stand out as he looked back at Luke. Glasses on, hair soft. He looked like the boy Luke loved so much.

He suddenly wanted to cry.

“Okay,” Ashton nodded, and reversed back out of the driveway. Silent and stoic. Two things Luke knew Ashton rarely was. Tonight was the exception.

The roads were almost empty, but not. Empty for L.A. Empty for 2 am on a fresh Friday. Empty for a pandemic. But not really empty at all. Luke could barely hear the music over the sound of the rain and the engine and the road, but it didn’t bother him. Being surrounded by these familiar things—Ashton’s leather seats, the smell of his air freshener, the smell of him—made Luke feel safe in a way the hoodie just couldn’t.

“Do you hate me?” Luke asked after they’d turned out of his suburbs.

Ashton scoffed in a way that showed real amusement. “Of course I don’t hate you. Whether the feeling is mutual or not’s the real question, though.”

Luke didn’t answer for a second. “I want to. I wish I could.”

Ashton nodded like he’d been expecting that answer, and just drove on at a green light.

“Don’t be worried.” Luke knew he was, “there’s still lots of love keeping me from thinking about it too hard.”

“Where am I driving us?” Ashton asked, even though he had already made a few of the decisions already.

“Beach.”

Ashton’s expression didn’t change, and he just drove on.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Ashton asked.

“Not answer me,” Luke huffed, and realized only before Ashton looked at him just how hypocritical he sounded. “I have an excuse...”

Ashton sighed. “I know...”

“I don’t wanna talk about that,” Luke grumbled. “Any of this shit. I texted you for a reason you know.”

“Why did you text me?” He didn’t sound hostile, just tired.

“I miss you.”

Almost like that was what he had been waiting for, Ashton’s hand dropped from the steering wheel and reached for Luke’s in his lap. His fingers were chilly from the air conditioner, but then again so we’re Luke’s. He pressed their palms together like Ashton was a lifeline. He felt his angst deflate in his chest. And he even reached to turn up the radio.

Its about a forty minute drive to the beach, and Luke knew this before asking. But he needed to see something other than his house, and right now, everything looked better than that. But the ocean was the only thing Luke loved to look at. Even at night, even in the rain.

The horizon was vast and open. The gradient of dark grey above faded to light grey as the clouds above hit nearly pitch black water. Ashton parked in front of it. An empty parking lot overlooking the grand beach. Their spot.

As soon as Ashton’s car was in park Luke nearly jumped into his arms, without words, without unbuckling. His lips found Ashton’s in the dim light, and Ashton’s didn’t shy away. All that was on his mind at that moment was savoring the feeling. The taste. The idea of having him this close. His Ashton.

Ashton only broke their kiss after a second to cut off the headlights and unbuckle his seatbelt. “Luuu...” Ashton groaned. “What are we doing?”

“Anything you’ll let me do,” Luke whined against his lips, unhappy that they kept getting interrupted.

“Not what I mean,” Ashton murmured.

Luke knew that, by the way he pulled away as he spoke.

“Luke...” Ashton urged.

“Please...” Luke whined looking at Ashton’s silhouette in the dark. Without any lights in the car, or streetlights around, it was hard to see anything at all. “Please, don’t ruin it. I need you...” tears pricked his eyes as he spoke, and he felt the lump rise in his throat.

And whether Ashton could see Luke’s eyes water in the dark, or he decided to give in, Ashton met Luke’s passion with a vengeance.

Luke felt Ashton’s nimble fingers fidget clumsily with Luke’s seatbelt buckle before he felt himself finally free from it. He wasted no time climbing over Ashton’s lap. It was awkward, it hurt his knees, but, god...he needed this, and he wasn’t talking himself out of it. He wasn’t letting Ashton talk him out out of it. He deserved to be reckless.

Ashton’s lips broke away from his and he immediately wanted to cry again, till he felt soft open lips pressed to that sweet spot on Luke’s neck. Hot and dizzying and stirring his nerves into a frenzy. He sighed with his eyes going out of focus. “Oh, Ash...” he whispered.

The prickle of Ashton’s stubble poked at Luke’s neck, and it jolted him in ways his own facial hair couldn’t. Luke found his hands tangled in the soft black curls. Even though he couldn’t see them, he’d remembered how fluffy it had been. He smelled like his shampoo and conditioner. He melted a little more at the familiarity, and tugged the locks in his fists.

“Fuck,” Ashton hissed. His arms tightened around Luke’s waist, and hands ghosted over his round bum in his shorts.

“Fuck me,” Luke whimpered, but he knew Ashton must have been expecting it. “Right here. I don’t care. I need you. I’m sorry.” Every sentence punctuated an inhale or exhale.

Ashton was seemingly two steps ahead, maneuvering the seat back, and Luke down with him. “I thought you’d never ask...” he leaned up to chase Luke’s lips again, which were happy to find his. Eager even. Just like Luke’s hands were to find the zipper of Ashton’s jeans.

Luke hadn’t fucked in a car very many times in his life, but he’d done it enough to know how to slide his partner’s pants down without moving more than necessary. It was a skill he was proud of. It was a skill he showcased now.

They were ill-prepared for this task. No lube. Just a condom in Ashton’s wallet and hopefully enough combined spit to not split Luke in half.

He wore his hoodie, while his shorts wadded uncomfortably around only one of his knees, as it pressed into the seatbelt buckle on Ashton’s side. But Luke wasn’t picky—at least he refused to be right now.

He felt high. He felt drunk. He felt relieved to kiss Ashton and feel his kiss back. He’d spent nights dreaming of being this close again, but only after the thousands of daydreams of killing him faded with the sunset.

Luke pushed back on Ashton’s three fingers. Eager. Hungry for touch. Hungry for only Ashton’s touch.

And just like he’d hoped, Ashton reminded him of that. “Missed me so much...couldn’t stand to be away from daddy could you?”

Luke shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he blushed across his nose. He was finally getting stimulation and degradation. It was basically the perfect day, minus his anxiousness. “Needed daddy. M-missed him so much...”

Ashton purred softly and kissed behind Luke’s ear. The heat ran directly down Luke’s spine and pooled in his tummy. “Well, daddy’s right here. Gonna fill you up and make you forget all about it,�� he scissored his fingers one last time, before pulling out.

Luke whined, feeling empty and cold again, but that was only before Ashton placed the familiar thick tip against him. He practically rolled his eyes back like he hadn’t felt it in months. And officially he hadn’t...but if shit like this counted... well, then that was a different answer.

He rocked his hips back against Ashton, and panted, “please, please,” he whimpered and begged. “I’ll be so good. I promise...”

“‘Please, please’ what, baby? What are you asking for?” Ashton’s voice dripped with condescension, and Luke knew the week of leaving Ashton on read was coming back to haunt him.

“Your c-cock...” Luke hiccuped. “Need it...”

“Well you got it right there, sweetheart. What more could you want?”

“Want it inside me. Want you inside, right now...”

“Yeah? You sure you don’t wanna think about it some more? Don’t wanna make me wait a little longer?”

“Nuh-Uh...” Luke shook his head rapidly. “Just want you inside me, please...”

Ashton wasn’t a torturer, and Luke knew that. He wasn’t one to make Luke beg too much when he was this distraught. So he pushed up into him at that last “please” and Luke had to struggle to catch his breath.

“Oh! Mmm!” He gasped and furrowed his brows. Ashton’s hands splayed large and steady over part of Luke’s bum and the small of his back, as if guiding him to move. As if Luke needed the help.

“Goddamnit...” Ashton gulped and, Luke’s eyes must have adjusted to the complete dark, cause he could see a little shape of Ashton’s jaw, as he tossed his head back. “Why the fuck did I ever agree to let you go?”

“Shhh, daddy...” Luke whispered and kissed at Ashton’s cheek, when he thought he was aiming for his lips again. “Don’t ruin it...”

Ashton only seemed to get worse then. He gripped Luke’s skin under the hoodie, to the point it felt like he’d bruise. “Then remind me whose pussy this is...” Ashton growled, crashing his hips up against Luke’s small circular movements.

Luke felt it brush against his spot, only that once. And then he was left to chase it on his own again. The whine he’d let out was pathetic. And it didn’t answer Ashton’s question at all.

“Huh?” Ashton smacked his bum, and the clap of skin on skin stung in their ears only briefly since the car absorbed so much sound. “Tell me...”

“Yours, daddy...” Luke whined, cheeks hot.

“My what? Use your words”

“Your pussy. It belongs to you...” Luke hiccuped without remorse.

Ashton snapped his hips up again and Luke felt the white heat rush all over his body. Luke chased it, throwing his hips down like he couldn’t take it anymore.

Ashton panted out moans and crashed their lips together. All lips and teeth and tangling tongues in the darkness, but it was heat. And it felt and smelled and sounded like Ashton, so Luke would take everything he could.

He whined into the kiss, his body basically overheating the closer he got. The music on the radio subsumed the random thoughts in Luke’s head, at least the only ones not actively chasing release. His legs ached, his body felt ridged and achy, but he didn’t stop.

And all at once he didn’t remember the bad shit. He didn’t remember the problems or the reason they were forced apart. All there was, was them both holding each other for all of eternity.

“You’re slacking,” Ashton growled though his breaths were short, “pick up the pace, princess.”

Luke whined and dug down to do it despite the protest in his thighs. Because in reality, he loved when Ashton pushed him. He craved the approval too much to protest. “M trying,” he pouted.

“Well do better. You asked for daddy’s cock, so at least act like you want it.”

Luke blushed and slammed his hips down and he could tell by the way Ashton sighed he did perfectly right. “That’s more like it...” he purred. “That’s the little bunny I know...”

Luke hugged Ashton’s shoulders and buried himself further into his neck. Panting the warm heat of Ashton’s cologne and his own breath recycled back at him till it was suffocating. “There! There!” He clung to him with a desperate whine, nosing behind his ear. He wanted complete closeness. If he could press their chests within each other and wrap Ashton’s ribs around his, he would. And Ashton hugged him back just as feverishly.

The tidal wave of orgasm hit him hot and fast. And Ashton seemed to notice before any words could tumble out of his mouth. He was already kissing at Luke’s jaw. “Cum, baby. It’s okay...” he murmured against his skin. Luke melted into that, spilling all over his tummy under his hoodie with a pathetic whine. And then it was Ashton’s turn to groan and cum between pants of pleasure and heat exhaustion.

The rain had picked up at some point in their throes, and now drummed down on the car with loud taps. The radio seemed quiet by comparison. Only their heavied breaths really stood a chance against the backdrop of sound.

“Lu...” Ashton whispered after they had calmed, their bodies still pressed together in a lovers embrace.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

It hurt to hear. But Luke knew it would have hurt him more not to hear it.

“I love you, too...”

Ashton sighed like he’d deflated and shifted under Luke. It took every ounce of strength the blonde boy had to push himself away from Ashton so he could sit the seat back up.

“We have to stop doing this,” Ashton said softly. Not reprimanding him. He got a napkin from the glove compartment and lifted Luke’s hoodie to clean him up. It was like clockwork. Luke came to expect that phrase now after meeting up in secret.

“I know.”

“I have to stop saying yes. But you’re so easy to give into,” Ashton pouted.

“I know.”

“We have to be—.”

“Please don’t say it,” Luke pleaded, and the tears he’d been pushing down welled up again. “Please. I don’t want you to talk about it, I don’t wanna think about it. I just want you, and I don’t want to think about the consequences of my goddamn actions for once! Please...I already know. So will you just hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay without taking it back?” The rain of Luke’s tears fell down his cheeks and landed somewhere into the void of darkness.

“Okay...”

“Okay. Because I love you, and I hate you. And I can’t let you go...” he sobbed into Ashton’s neck. He wasn’t too surprised to feel Ashton’s arms wrap around him. They always did when Luke was in pain. Even when they were the two most opposed people on the planet.

Luke found it so annoying.

But he just hugged Ashton closer, crying harder. “I wish you hated me. I wish we could break it off and go our separate ways for good.”

Ashton pet his hair, and it annoyed him more.

“Don’t you think I’ve been a bitch? Aren’t you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not. I’m worried. I want you. I wish that we didn’t have to—. I wish things were different.”

The problem was, Luke could tell that Ashton was telling the truth. And it hurt even worse. “Well wishing isn’t gonna make it any better.” He stared at the foggy windows. “Let’s stay here tonight. I can’t sleep without you.” He admitted petulantly. Like a kid in time out.

Ashton cut off the car at that, and held Luke close. “Then we’ll stay...”

Luke unsurprisingly only thought about the consequences that would lie in wait for them tomorrow, but for now he was safe. And warm. And familiar. And coming down from so many intense emotions that he just didn’t care. He let them drift off with every flourish of Ashton’s feather light touch on his back.

“Don’t ever let this moment end.” Luke whispered into the gentle thrum of Ashton’s pulse as he faded into sleep. And he knew if Ashton really loved him he’d lie.

And right before the tendrils of sleep took him under, he heard the gentle confirmation in two words:

“Never ever.”

[imdreamingofaplaceicallhome]

Fallin’

Type: One Shot | Imagine about Jack Avery Rating: PG Word Count: 1700+ Requested: Y/N Enjoy!

He pulled me closer to him as the sun started peeking through the window. He pulled the cover over us so it was dark again. I giggled slightly as I looked at him, I could see the smile grow on his face. He opened his eyes slightly looking at me, knowing he didn't want to wake up. I ran my hand through his hair and down his cheek, brushing my thumb against his lips. I loved waking up with him but unfortunately, it didn't happen as often as I wanted to. With this pandemic, it has slowed down our schedule and I've loved every moment of being with him.

“Morning” I finally broke the silence.

“Morning,” he said as he brushed the hair from my face.

I leaned in towards him placing my lips against his. He grabbed my hips pulling me closer to him, keeping the kiss between us. I smiled against his lips as I heard his phone go off. He groaned as he reached over me grabbing his phone from the nightstand. Of course, it was his management asking where he was since they were supposed to be filming a music video. They took time off social media to actually focus on an album, I love how dedicated he is to his work.

“What was that?” I asked as he hung up.

“Just the boss” he rolled his eyes.

“Got to go?” I questioned.

“This afternoon yes, but right now you are my focus” he smiled as he kissed my lips softly.

“Oh really?” I smiled against his lips.

“What you want for breakfast?” he asked.

“Surprise me,” I said.

“Alright,” he kissed my forehead before going downstairs to the kitchen.

I laid in bed for a few more moments until I finally pulled myself out of bed. I made my way to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and brush through my hair. I smiled as I looked in the mirror realizing that I was in his shirt. I pulled my hair back in a messy bun before making my way downstairs.

“It smells good down here,” I said as I leaned against the door frame.

“Waffles and sausage, my baby's favorite” he smiled as he walked over towards me.

“You know your way to my heart” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Always” he smirked as he places his hands on my ass.

“How do I always end up falling asleep in your clothes?” I questioned.

“You just look better in them than I do” he peeked at my lips before going back to cooking.

“Oh hush” I rolled my eyes as I sat down at the table. 

“It's true” he smiled as he looked over at me.

I rolled my eyes playfully at him as he bought over the food to the table. He sat next to me as we started to eat, it was quiet for a while until we finished eating. Once I finished eating I got up and placed my plate in the sink. I started washing the dishes because the one thing I hated most, was to come home to a dirty house. He soon came up behind me placing his plate in the sink. Wrapping his arms around me laying his head against my shoulder. His breath against my neck as I leaned back against him.

“So what time do you have to leave?” I asked.

“I want you to come with me” he whispered in my ear.

“You do?” I giggled slightly.

“Of course” he kissed my cheek.

“What time?” I asked.

“In about an hour,” he said.

“Alright, so time for a shower” I smiled.

“Of course,” he said.

I finished washing the dishes and pulled away from the embrace. I made my way upstairs and he wasn't too far behind. I went into the room to get my clothes as he went into the bathroom to start the shower. I laid my clothes on the bed before making my way into the bathroom. Of course, Jack was already in the shower, I playfully rolled my eyes. I got undressed and made my way into the shower. Wrapping my arms around him from behind, placing a kiss against his neck. He turned around and placed his hands against my hips. Leaning down kissing me softly as he moved me under the water. I giggled against his lips before pulling away. I started washing my body but he grabbed the soap from me. Leaning back against him as he ran the shop between my chest, slowly down my stomach. I moaned slightly as I wanted his touch but soon snapped back to reality because I knew we didn't have much time.

“We have to get ready” I sighed.

“Later?” he nibbled at my ear.

“Of course” I smiled as I washed off.

I finally got out of the shower and wrapped up in a towel. Making my way to the bedroom to get dressed as he finishes up in the shower. He walked into the room naked and goes into the closet. I bite my lip as I watch him as I finished getting dressed. He finished getting dressed and we left the apartment, the place wasn't that far away. The traffic was horrible but we got there on time. He went into the meeting with the boys as I sat in his dressing room.

“You are Jack's girlfriend right?” the producer asked.

“Yeah” I nodded.

“And a singer correct?” the producer looked at me.

“Yea I am actually” I smiled slightly.

“You want to be apart of the video?” the producer asked.

“If it's ok with everyone sure,” I said.

“We will work it out” the producer nodded.

I stayed in the back just watching them make the video. It was an insane video but it was also a lot of work. Jack would come over to me when he was free. Kissing me softly before being pulled away for another part of the video. No one told him that I would be involved in the video. As they continued to film I went to get my makeup down and they choose my outfit.

“Where did she go?” Jack asked as he walked off the set.

“I'm right here babe” I smiled as I walked out of the dressing room.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Being in the video” I smiled.

“Wait what?” he grabbed my hand.

“Yea they asked so of course, I said yes,” I said.

“Well come on” he leads me to the set.

They placed me in the scene between Corbyn and Jack. Jack placed his arm around my shoulder as he sang. It was a lot of fun doing different takes. By doing different scenes, I was just happy with whatever they wanted to use. We were on set for a good while, before we knew it it was 6 am. Everyone was getting tired but there was one last scene that everyone needed to film. Jack grabbed me pulling me into the last scene, wrapping his arms around my waist. Leaning me back slightly as he kissed me softly. After the scene was shot all the studio lights turned off and the regular lights came back on. Everyone was clapping, it was officially a wrap.

“That was fun,” I said as I looked at Jack.

“Yea now it's up to the editors” he smiled as he grabbed my hand.

“It's nearly 7 am” I yawned.

“I know, you wanna go eat then go home?” he asked.

“Sure” I nodded.

We both went into the dressing room and changed into our clothes. We left with the other boys so we could all grab something to eat. We went to a breakfast spot, got multiple tables pushed together. I leaned my head against Jack's shoulder as we looked over the menu.

“I love you” he kissed the top of my head.

“I love you,” I said as I played with his hand.

“What are you getting?” he asked.

“Just probably some hash-browns, I'm not really that hungry,” I said.

“Yeah same, we have been snacking on set all day,” he said.

“I know,” I said.

We all ordered our food, once we finished we left the restaurant. Management picked up the tab for us since we worked so long yesterday. They dropped us off at our apartment, of course, I forgot my keys in my bag. That was at the set in our car. Luckily Jack had his keys so we weren't fully left out on the street. He opened the door allowing me to enter first, I went straight upstairs. I took my clothes off and slipped on one of his shirts before laying in bed. He made his way upstairs after making sure the door was locked. He slipped off his shoes and his pants, taking his shirt off as he made his way to the bed. He laid next to me pulling the cover over us, I moved so I was laying my head against his chest. He wrapped his arm around me as I started drifting off. We both fell fast asleep and mainly slept the whole day away. A few days later we got a call from the producer and editor that the video was ready. We all made the way down to the studio so we could have a watch party. Jack sat in the big oversize seat and pulled me in between his legs. I laid back against him as he wrapped his arms around me. We all watched the video it came out amazing and the boys were so hyped about it. I loved watching Jack be so happy and proud of something he did. They did keep a few scenes of me in the video and that made Jack smile that much more. It was fun to be involved with something different than what I did. Plus it involved someone I was in love with so it just made it that much better.

[delicatejisung]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[ play / pause / forward ]

↣ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰

↣ 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘯

↣ 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

days. it’s been days since their “plan” took action and it’s still on-going as soribada awards passed by and yanna had to interrupt jaemin’s birthday vlive to say “i love you” even if it was completely platonic for her.

of course, to the fans it’s basically a “confirmation”. the selca the two posted did not help as well in making the fans crazy for the limitless “yanmin” content they have been getting recently. behind closed doors, as much as the group tried to ignore it, of course they see what the fans say.

a day after the awards & jaemin’s birthday, yanna was seated at the living room reading tweets about her and it just confirmed her thoughts. fans did like her and jaemin together. not that it mattered to her, but it bummed her out to see many fans supporting them but also some who tweeted about missing her with renjun.

after days of shrugging it off and acting like she was fine with what they were doing, she felt cold. it was rare for her to be alone and be left with her own thoughts, with them being busy with preparations and shooting content for fans to enjoy during the pandemic. she was always either beside renjun who she had to put a brave face on for or with jaemin who she had to act natural with, she never really got to think about herself and how she actually felt about all this.

right now, she was alone. no renjun. no jaemin. just her and her thoughts. finally, she realizes she’s exhausted. as soon a drop of tear fell on her knee, jisung opened the door and spotted her wiping it away.

“are... you okay?” he asked, unsure. and for the first time, yanna felt tired enough to tell the truth with a shook of her head. the boy immediately walked towards the couch and sit beside her, pulling her into a hug.

“i don’t wanna do this anymore, ji.” she sobbed, making the boy hug her tighter.

“i just, i feel like i’m hurting them both while also tiring myself out. but i can’t really do anything about it ‘cause this was my fault anyways. i just-“ her words cut off by her sobs, making jisung rub her shoulder to comfort her and wait for her to calm down. it took a few minutes of yanna breathing in and out before she could eventually calm herself down.

“i don’t want renjun to think i want to just give up our relationship and i don’t want to ruin jaemin’s efforts to go to waste as well. but thinking about it now, i just feel like we’re getting too many people involved in this. even fans. and i, i just don’t see myself doing this for a long time. how long are we supposed to hide this?” she ranted, the boy nodding to say he completely gets what the girl meant.

“have you tried talking to renjun-hyung about it?” he asked, yanna shook her head.

“i don’t want him to think i’m just gonna give up our relationship that easily.” she quietly replied, head now on jisung’s shoulder.

“what about jaemin-hyung?” jisung asked.

“i’m worried he’ll think i just want to get rid of him or something.” she reasoned out.

“you’re gonna have to talk to them about it, yanna. i don’t think this is okay with any of you, to be completely honest. you’re just going with it because the results seem less scary than just admitting this isn’t gonna work in the long run.” the youngest said out of frustration.

“when did you get so wise, jisungie?” yanna could only say in return. but the youngest could only shake his head before leaning back to let the girl rest on his shoulder.

as jisung predicted, everyone continued ignoring it. him eye-ing yanna to talk is obviously not working as the girl looked away to join jaemin during the shoot.

“kinda funny how fans think they know everything” chenle suddenly mumbled next to jisung and renjun, making them both glance at him. the boy quietly showed them his phone, flashing a tweet directed towards renjun saying he should date said twitter user since yanna and jaemin are already together.

for the first time in a long time, jisung saw renjun frown. it was obvious he was bothered as he stood up to leave, making chenle follow him as jeno and haechan asked the boy what happened.

yanna noticed as well, but couldn’t just leave when she was in the middle of talking to a staff member about how she should act. she was about to run as soon as they were done talking, but renjun was already on his way back.

“you okay?” she asked the boy who had just sat down, but he only replied with a tight smile and a nod. the girl was about to ask more when she was called to shoot something again. hesitant to leave her boyfriend who looked upset, she lightly kissed his cheek before running back towards the set.

“why can’t we call mark-hyung?” chenle whined as the 7 entered the dream dorm. an unplanned sleepover was talked about inside the car and of course, he wanted them to be complete.

“chenle, everyone’s tired and hyung’s busy with superm. i don’t think we’ll even have that much to do, probably just sleep altogether in front of the tv.” jeno said, as the boy sat on the couch nodding.

“fine. dibs on not sleeping next to jisung!” he said, making yanna giggle as she flopped down on the couch.

“dibs on sleeping next to yanna!” hyuck announced, making renjun look at him as he laughed.

“i’m kidding, i’d rather sleep next to the refrigerator.” he mumbled as yanna threw a throw pillow at his head.

“i’m not that cold.” she mumbled.

“we’ll get the comforters.” jeno excused himself along with jaemin who looked like he was in panic as he avoided everyone’s gazes.

“what’s with jaemin-hyung?” jisung asked, making yanna nod along at how he was acting strange.

“yeah, he kept avoiding my gaze earlier and he flinched when i touched his arm. accidentally.” the girl said with a yawn, now stretched out on the couch as hyuck sat on her legs.

“maybe he’s starting to hate you.” hyuck said with a laugh.

“ha ha, very funny.” she retorted, noticing chenle and jisung quietly talking at the side.

“i’ll check if they need help with the comforters.” renjun quietly said, the girl nodded while hyuck continued making himself heavy on yanna’s legs.

“STOP BREAKING MY LEGS” she yelled out, it being the last thing renjun heard before attempting to knock on jeno’s door only to see it opened a bit.

“i’m still in love with yanna...” jaemin said, making renjun quickly turn around frozen.

it took him a few seconds to process. blinking as he decided to go back to where yanna was still attempting to make hyuck fall off the couch.

“this is why evie doesn’t like you.” yanna whined as he decided to finally stand up.

“you and jaemin said the same thing, maybe you two should-“ he stopped himself, seeing renjun’s serious face as he approached them quietly.

“what? date?” he asked, making yanna sit up.

“it’s just a joke.” the mischievous boy said with a slight laugh as chenle nudged jisung to listen to the conversation.

“it’s a stupid joke.” yanna mumbled, standing up to bring her bag to her room only to freeze with renjun’s words.

“maybe they should.” he said.

“i get it, it’s not funny.” haechan replied, thinking renjun said it to prove to him that it wasn’t funny. as jeno and jaemin both approached the living room, they could sense the tension.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” yanna finally said, making jisung stand up only to be pulled back down by chenle.

“fans like you two together and he just said he’s still in love with you-“

“you heard that?”

“so what’s there to lose?” renjun finished, pent up frustration from the past few days built up in his words making yanna laugh in disbelief.

“what’s there to lose? you’re really asking me that?” she asked, dropping her bag on the couch.

“sure seems like your life would be better if you chose him.” renjun mumbled, making jeno clench his fist a bit.

“you think a better life for me is choosing a guy my fans like for me because of mere interactions and years of friendship instead of a guy i actually want to spend the rest of my life with? then maybe you don’t actually know me.” the girl replied, jisung now breathing heavily as chenle tried to calm him down.

“i’m just saying you won’t have to go through all of this if you two got together-“

“why? are you tired? seeing me with him? because guess what, i am too. not a single one of you heard from me except jisung and it was only one time when i could go on and on about how this sucks.” the girl said, clutching the sofa to hold her tears back.

“then maybe the company’s right, maybe we shouldn’t have gotten together in the first place.” renjun said as jisung sat on the corner crying.

“do you really believe that?” yanna said with a small voice, tears threatening to escape her eyes.

“can you two stop?” jeno angrily said, not liking where the conversation was going.

“no.” the boy replied, gulping as his own tears start to betray him. he was frustrated with himself but not enough to make yanna believe that he’d be okay losing her. because he wouldn’t be okay.

“but things have been exhausting recently, yanna.” he continued, making the girl nod. she agreed, she was exhausted too. the whole situation has been eating them up. as yanna remembered all the rehearsals for the awards where the only thing she wanted to do after was sleep. all the times renjun would come home and she was already asleep. it being more exhausting since work was work unlike before where work could also be quality time for them.

the girl sighed, accidentally letting her tears go before hurriedly wiping them away. she saw renjun move slightly but her eyes gave it away that she can’t handle anyone touching her at the moment. scared she’ll end up crying instead of saying what was on her mind.

“then maybe we should take a break, pause this relationship.” she bravely said, holding her breath as she heard jisung sob a bit.

“this isn’t fun, come on guys.” haechan said, still trying to convince himself it was somehow a prank or something. not wanting to believe what was happening in front of him. jaemin could only look down, staring at jisung who was inconsolable even though chenle was trying his best.

“maybe we should.” renjun replied, seeing the exhaustion in yanna’s eyes mixed with the pain. maybe they do need to atleast pause and have time apart to be able to figure things out. but even with the assurance that it wasn’t a break up, he felt his heart sink as another tear fell from yanna’s eye. he wasn’t able to hold back as well as he looked away and wiped away his tears that were in a hurry to come out after minutes of welling up.

“okay, show’s over. come on, tell me it’s a prank.” hyuck said, only trying to convince himself.

“come on, let’s hug it out.” he said once again with his arms up for the two. but as he approached yanna, the girl could only push his arm away before grabbing her bag and entering her room.

with her back on the side of her bed, she sat on the floor quietly sobbing, the rain drowning out any noise from her room as she ignored jeno’s knocks amidst the silence that filled the living room.

↣ 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 ♡

[nerdygaymormon]

Sorry, this is a super long ask, but I had some thoughts I wanted to articulate at a person, not just in a post 😅 I had this thought about the article from Elder & Sister Renlund. It was then reinforced when my mom (who I'm not out to) sent me some quotes about God loving his children after she had talked to a family friend who's teen daughter is bi and very angry at the church (And I will admit, the quotes my mom sent we're a lot more loving than anything from the Renlunds). 1

I'm tired of the only reference queer members get about God loving them is that he loves them inspite of their queerness. It's not presented that straight forward always. It's usually presented as "God loves all his children, whether they're following his commandments or not" which isn't a bad sentiment within itself (And maybe that's helpful for some queer people sometimes, idk). 2

I also understand how it can seem a helpful message to share with queer members as a cis straight member. But one of the biggest things that has held me back from exploring my sexuality and gender identity is this idea. By identifying and living openly queer, sentiments like these tell me I am actively rebelling against God. 3

And if I'm actively rebelling just simply by being myself, then why should I keep any other commandments? Sure, maybe if it's just that one commandment I don't follow and I follow everything else perfectly I can still be saved, but I'm still human! The rest of those commandments are still often hard to follow! And if I spend all this time figuring out my queer identity, only to reach heaven and have that taken away... then I don't wanna go to heaven anyway. 4

So maybe our fellow members, when talking to queer members, can stop with the "God still loves you, despite your queerness!" & can instead say "God loves you, queerness very much included!" (Any higher up leadership doesn't get to say this until they get their lives in order & stop being homophobic/transphobic. You can't tell me God loves me if you're out here telling me he doesn't through your policies.) Anyway, this has been bubbling for a little bit and I wanted to get it out of my head 5

————————————————————

My sense of it is that our top church leaders talk to the members about us. For many years there’s been at least one, often more than one, talk at General Conference that mentions queer people, with gay people getting the most attention. 

The leaders tell the members what they believe the Lord thinks and lament that the world is becoming more welcoming. It can sound harsh. They soften it by saying that God still loves us, we’re still God’s children, but it does feel like an after thought. 

————————— 

It’s very rare to hear a message directly aimed at LGBTQIA+ people. Because of my calling, I’ve gotten to meet several General Authorities, which means I’ve had the unique opportunity to hear how they speak directly to a queer person. 

The first one I met is Elder Joaquin Costa, I told him that I’m gay and he was extra caring and kind to me. He hugged me and told me he loves me. It surprised me. 

The blog post I wrote went viral and someone asked he and his wife about it, and they wept and he said everyone is deserving of Jesus’ love.  

I met Elder Costa again last summer and brought a friend with me. He stayed after hours at the office in order to see us. He hugged me and he’s smiling so big and he keeps mentioning one thing or another from when we met, and my friend leans over and says, “he likes you, like for real, he likes you.” The conversation didn’t go as I’d hoped, but I give Elder Costa credit for listening to us, and it seemed he learned and adjusted. And he kept reaching over and patting my arm, and we’d lean towards each other and bump shoulders, you know, like friends do when you’re telling a joke or something to show you feel friendly towards each other. 

—————————

The second General Authority, we got off to a rough start as he spoke for two hours about the importance of marriage between a man and woman and how necessary that is. The next day he went out of his way to befriend me, even asking that we drop titles and just call each other by our first names. He calls me David and I call him Claudio. By the time he left, it felt like we were friends, although I didn’t know if that’s just how he makes everyone feel.

I took him up on his offer for lunch when I visited Utah in 2018. When we got to his office, he was so excited to tell me that he and my dad have the same birthday, but 2 year apart. Had he been snooping on me, how did he know that? Well, he wondered how many people in the Church had his birthday and he did a search on the churchwide membership list. None had the exact birthday, so he dropped the year, and there was my dad’s name. He knew my last name, so he clicked on my dad to see if we’re related. He had waited eagerly several days for me to arrive so he could tell me. Anyway, he and I had a very real conversation, you know, we got beyond just the niceties. He never contradicted the Church teachings, but did admit there’s a lot we don’t know, there’s many questions for people like me for which we have no answers. He listened and understood where I was coming from and that we have significant gaps in our teachings and our church needs to do better in showing love to LGBTQ people. We ended with a lot of laughs and hugs and I left with a good feeling. 

I met Claudio again last year and brought a friend with me. I didn’t share this in the blog post I wrote, but Claudio was so eager to see me because he wanted to share how knowing me had helped him respond to a father who was worried his daughter had come out as a lesbian. He shared the advice he gave the father and wanted my reaction. It was very good and focused on accepting the situation, loving his daughter as he always had, and she’s got to make some big decisions but to stand by her and always include her no matter what path she chooses. Those are her decisions, his responsibility is to be her loving dad that she can count on. I was stunned that he shared knowing me had caused him to think about the situation of queer members and the choices we face. My friend that I brought is also gay and Claudio pronounced a beautiful blessing on him. And he invited me to his home next time I come to Utah (which due to the pandemic, has been postponed). As we drove away, my friend remarked, “you don’t just invite acquaintances to your home, you guys are officially friends.”

—————————

I also met an apostle. Upon telling him I’m gay his very first comment was that same sex attraction isn’t a sin but bullying people over it is. We were sitting at a table of 8, so our conversation on this subject was brief. My feeling is he tried to give me a sense of hope, although it was all about what wonderful things await me when I’m dead. I wanted to reply that I needed hope in this life, but the whole table had started listening in on our conversation at that point and we moved on and discovered that his wife and I are related. 

—————————

I wish every queer member had these sorts of opportunities to feel love and concern from church leadership. I also wish the Seventy & apostles had more encounters with queer members, I think it’s good for them to process we’re real people with concerns & feelings that aren’t being satisfied and we need to feel the Savior’s love as much as anyone else. 

In the meantime, I will be meeting another general authority at the end of the month and will share how it goes.

[rose-tinted-wings]

2am thoughts.

I show a lot of signs of ASD.

(or would they be symptoms?)

But like... Does that mean I should follow up on this?

I know quizzes aren't diagnostic tools but like, all that I take kinda point in that direction but neurotypical Nancy over there (my husband) takes them and is all a-okay so it kinda checks out.

I don't know. I can't turn my brian off.

I'm cycling through all my precious hyper fixations and kinda going, symptom, symptom, symptom.

And I honestly don't know how to feel about this.

I kinda freaked out a little because my husband moved my toothbrush but I can't control my emotions well when I'm tired.

And it just makes me remember all the times my family would call me "weird" or different.

I'm kind of a chameleon (I don't know if that's a symptom), but like, I try my best not to be weird. I attach to people and emulate their behaviour so I'm not picked on as weird and freaky and yeah sometimes I'd have to go from group to group so I wouldn't show how weird I am.

I can't seem to help it. People don't like me jumping my leg up and down to try and soothe myself. I literally got told to stop it once by a stranger sitting in front of me at a festival because she was trying to take a picture and I was wobbling the floor too much for her to get a steady shot so I've never done it since.

My husband notices when I wiggle my feet when I'm sleepy so now I only do it under the covers which kinda helps because I like the pressure and the tactile feel of the sheets on my feet.

I know I'm weird. I've always been weird. I can basically tell you a breed of dog just by looking at it because I used to study dog breeds after seeing a poster in the vets when we used to take our dog.

I used to be told that I even ate wrong. Hell, I was told that today! Because I seperate my skittles and you have to eat them in order from worst to best (yellow, orange, red, purple then green, unless you're American because American skittles are different flavour and I don't really like those when I went there, sorry). And I like all my food to be separated. If they're on the same plate they should have a good half centimetre between eat item so they don't touch but preferably eat item would be in seperate bowls but that's a lot of washing up to do so I don't ask for that anymore. I used to be told I ate things wrong or upside down or the wrong way round because of I could I would take the filling out my sandwich and eat that last because that's the better bit. But I do TRY not to get upset when my food touches, like, in a restaurant, I don't expect them to seperate my food, it comes how it comes, I'll seperate it myself. I was told to stop being weird, eat the pepperoni ON the pizza. My mum would purposefully move my sweets when they were all in lines which was really distressing but I knew it was just me being weird, again. And I don't like soft food. Like, I can't eat a sandwich that has a salad filling and a tomato was on the bread. It just makes it soggy and disgusting in my mouth. Like if you have too many crackers and then try to have water after but then there's mushy cracker in your mouth. No. Just no. Yoghurt is bad. I grew some in a lab once at different temperatures and I do not want to ingest that.

But yeah. I'm just like... Is this why people think I'm rude? I've literally been called spikey and aloof by people in therapy.

But then my hubby says this could all just be trauma brain trying to put things "right" or "orderly" and just trying to grasp at control from a time where I had none. (I call it trauma brain because I'm not diagnosed with PTSD and even though I stand with self Dx I can't personally agree to something unless it's like, officially on paper and such, another lovely quirk)

I don't know. He says I need sleep, which, yes, I do. But I cannot turn my brain off.

Like I keep thinking about Greek mythology and how I was really into that, and knitting and crochet and the different kinds of fibres you can use, and like, dimaond art, and psychology. And I wanted to be a mortician because I don't wanna be around people because talking is HARD.

And people are always "why didn't you talk to me?" when I have a mental health crisis but I don't know how to do that! How do you pick up a phone and go "hey! Just wanted to drop a line and say I'm suicidal but there's nothing anyone can do about it anyway seeing as it's all wonky brain chemistry so I don't really know why I'm telling you!" yanno? I don't know how to talk. I don't. Like. I've said it to people before. I see you. We've spoken. I see you as Friend but like... Talk? Uh... Weather? Music? Life? Philosophy? Where... Do we start?

I love my brothers, very much but I do not Do Sport and that's all I can think they're into. I am not Sport Person. I am not Ex Military. I am not Parent. How do we do this? Do we HAVE anything in common? Since the pandemic we haven't been able to play D&D and they don't seem interested in picking that back up so like... Where do we start?

I know people don't get to know me. I put people off by being blunt about my past abuse. It makes them uncomfortable. Like, casually dropped in having sex around 13 once and my friend about fell off his chair. Casually mentioned my father nearly killing me once and again he did not know what to say. Hell, again, it happened today. Talking about when I fell off my bike and broke my arm in two places and nearly my knee and my head bounced off the pavement and I could have died off not for my helmet and they thought THAT was dark until I said I also got told off for bleeding on the sofa and instead of calling an ambulance my dumbass father called my mother from work who took an hour to get home who then took me to the hospital. (and now I'm saying it all again to freak more people out. Awesome.) and I didn't even say how I needed a cloth over my knees because they looked so mangled I couldn't stop looking at the wreckage that was my body and the worst part was I walked home on that knee and when my brother found me he said are you okay? And all I could worry about was my stupid bike that I got for Christmas because I knew they would kill me if it got damaged. My self worth was lower than a bike. At 8.

So is this trauma? Is this ASD? I don't know. All I knoe right now is that I'm weird and I freak people out and I don't know when to shut up but I need all this out my head to be asleep.

And no one understands when you just and a word stuck in your head over and over again. And hubby was like, oh like when a line in a song plays in your head over and over and I said yeah but sometimes it's just a word like hypotenuse over and over and over and it won't stop.

Like now. I can't stop typing because this is all my inner monologue and it just won't stop. It won't let me sleep.

When I used to be like this as a kid I used to look out of the window. No matter whose (is that a word? I'm tired) house I was in. And the world would be still, and quiet, and I wanted that. But my brain doesn't like shutting down and right now I can't sleep until the sun comes up because that's when Trauma Brain says, ah, yes, safe now.

And my husband likes the door open to the bedroom even though I've told him it's a fire risk and no we haven't had a fire but my mum was freaked out by fire after she was in hospital next to a burn victim once and now I've got that trauma. Like, I have to have a safety plan on how to get out if there is a fire and even though it's still only a wooden door you'd be surprised by the amount of protection it brings.

And he likes night lights which, yes, can be helpful sometimes but I don't like light in my bedroom at night. So now I wear an eye mask but I hate the pressure on my face but I don't tell him that but now if I don't wear it I can't sleep because I'm used to the pressure even if I hate it!!

This is tiring. I've been typing for like, 40 mins and I just want to cry and sleep and punch his stupid snoring face because he can sleep and I can't and it's not fair. It's like he's rubbing it in my face. Oooo look how well I can sleep, snoring away next to you ZzZzz!! Ugh. I know it's stupid and petty but I'm tired. I've not slept more than five hours a night for nearly two weeks now and I know that's actually quite a bit for when my body decides to be in these moods and it's got to the point that my body is just fighting my sleeping tablets like an evil villain trying to thwart me.

But I need to wake up WITHOUT a migraine tomorrow as hubby had clinic at hospital but thankfully his dad is taking him but I have to pick him up and if I have a full migraine I don't k ow how I'll drive and I'm just. So. Tired.

Maybe this has helped. Maybe I'll put my phone down and just... Sleep.

Wow I've had to correct myself so much because I'm typing weird.

Weor Weor word word weird. That's it. Weird. That's me

Weird.

[spnsmile]

[Hello! I understand this can be upsetting to some so tags are on: RPF, ENGINE FAILURE, ANGST, EMOTIONALLY HURT/ COMFORT/ FLUFF] work of fiction BUT FLUFF/ KISSES

Response to @cocklesdestielfiction​ prompt BOTTLE (Cockles, a 5K story)

“The right engine exploded… like… BOOM!”

— Richard Speight Jr. (VegasCon 2020)

********

“Where’s Misha?”  says Jensen above the steady hum of the plane’s engine blending with sounds of shuffling bags, pitter-patters, and clinking glasses but Misha can always hear him perfect pitch or not.

“Here.” he heaved himself from the end of the aisle after unloading his personal bag with the other smaller luggage. He can hear Cliff talking to the attendant by the coach but he’s just too tired to say hello. 

“Hey, Cliff.” 

Misha’s eyebrows rake up and unfortunately for him that’s all he can muster with his limp. There’s a blunt grunt from the security papa bear.

“Nappy time for you, Misha. You look shit.”

“Thanks.” he grimaces. After ten hours on set (and that’s without Jared), he’s just too exhausted. Stalking to the cabin seats, Misha joined the others with bleary eyes.

He catches glinting green whose cherry lips begin to form into a wild smile. There has to be some rule about instant rejuvenation just from receiving that dose from such a nice face.

Richard beats them both in whatever shit they were about to say.

“Service is slowing, Misha. Your customer’s been addressing his complaints to the not-so-proper authorities.”Misha sniggers.

 “Who’s proper here, do tell.”

“Jensen’s not being proper at adulting.” Alex supplies staring out at the green primo uomo Misha’s been ignoring. The whine comes. It’s like a sweet tickle on his ears. Petulant and cheeky growly voice—signs Misha learned—since his first day—never to encourage.

“Misha! Mish! One more call you’re gonna deliver a bar.” 

He turns.

“Been callin you out.” 

“You do that to spite me, fucker.” Misha drawls, walking to Jensen and holding out another bottled water that has to be his 8th. “Here. Don’t believe the media when they tell you the world will never run out of water. Maison says the water sprites will invoke the right to strike just on principle.”

“Sweet faerie. But I believe you. You just hoarded eight hundred Aquafina.” 

“And who’s fault is that?”

If Jensen wasn’t giggling so dorkily at him, he would have snatched the bottle and cursed him for the reminder. But Misha couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of lips. Even Rich and Alex hark laughter at the meaning.

Cause Misha Collins just had a truck of bottled water delivered on set that’s still causing stomach hurts from the cast. Recently, Jensen had taken up the habit of ‘mentioning Misha ’on set as a result of that one interview involving some intense heart eyes and delivery of drinks caught on camera. Nothing to deny there, relationships over ten years tend to turn if not bitter-sweet memories, then the opposite tooth-rotting.

This takes the cake. Everyone began doing the same.

Of course, Misha— pleased by the attention and a new game to distract himself from the already distracting Jensen, returned all summons. Misha who was never one to do things halfway and pledged on delivering all sorts of drinks every Jensen pings his name—except apple juice, jesus. 

But it’s one of those feats that usually get out of control in Supernatural so by the end of the first week, everyone’s just going ‘Misha.’ He liked that a lot. Also, like the truckload of bottled water delivered on set much to their amusement.

When Vicky saw the number on their credit card receipt, she didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Oh, but he wanted to tell her anyway.

All fun aside, Misha’s particularly grumpy now for another reason. Sleep-deprived and emotionally drained after pouring everything on that last take, he’s now headed to Vegascon with this little group. It was nice Jared arranged his private plane to take them. The pretty convenient thing when a pandemic is out there.

Jensen looks tired too, dark lines under the eyes, lips dry— thus the water bottle Misha’s been carrying around— but how the fuck he managed to radiate with teenage energy even when it’s already late will forever evade Misha who wants to snuggle beside him but instead just looks him straight in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” he mouths, backing to his empty chair.

“Do it.” Jensen teases him and Misha will not appreciate that radiance of beauty pulling him in.

“Can’t, there’s our kid here. Don’t wanna make it awkward.”

Alex shakes his head. “Nope. I think I’ve seen the worst of it.”

“That’s what you think.” Misha chuckles.

“Buckle up, Mishano, signals on.” Richard turns his back from the window facing Jensen with red-light flashing above their heads. “Let’s save the Cockles once we’re in Vegas, kay guys? Innocent guy trying to avoid diabetes so save the Cockles.”

“Save the Cockles.” Alex fumbles inside his jacket to fix his earphones. 

Misha and Jensen roll eyes at each other and Misha returns to his spot. Jensen is directly on his line of sight so it’s quite easy to check out on him, maybe snap adorable photos and stack it on his 100 terabyte collection he can post someday when he’s 90.

Taking his phone out after securing his belt, he hears the pilot give instructions as the plane begins to move. Soon, he’s immersing himself with replies on tweets and messages on his number using his extra handphone. Zoning out wasn’t difficult, especially when trying to block out the funny feeling of the engine preparing to take off. They’re all used to it by now.

A few minutes later, they all feel the usual sensation of slowing down bodily before the plane thrusts forward— Misha closes his eyes,  hands clasping his chair until they feel the plane level after the accent.  When he opens his eyes, he hears everyone including him take a deep breath. There are exchanges of words but he is already glued to his phone answering messages sleepily. He’s so tired he can sleep forever. His eyes begin to droop and he sighs in content, finally able to rest even for just minutes.

Till there’s a gentle nudge on his leg. 

He ignores it.

Another kick. 

No.

“Mish.” Kick again.

Misha grimaces. Such long reach for bowlegs…

“Misha, I swear—”

“Social distance, Jen?” he opens his eyes, obviously grumpy.

“A truckload of beer from Poland sounds nice, I’d prefer that.” Jensen wags the water bottle with mischievous dimples showing off on the corner of his cheek. Misha frowns and shuts his eyes again. Good god for distractions. Good god for soft manly middlemen with so much energy…

“Mish…”

Ignore him.

“Mish!”

Imagine if Jared’s around…

“Hey, Misha, Poland beer really—”

Misha’s eyes flutter open.

“No, honey, I will not argue with you about Polish ‘Alkohole,’ it’s not even articulated the same.” Misha throws a grumpy look over notorious green-eyed lynx whose chuckling over his misery, “You’re gonna fuck with me again and I’ll have another story in my head I am unable to tell a soul as its rightfully not for children, sorry, Alex.” 

Ball on Alex’ court, he blinks from Jensen to Misha quietly then shakes his head.

“I am legally an adult.” He obviously could hear them from his pods. Misha raises a finger.

“Correction, the show says you’re 3. All fanfiction does.”

“I’m married.” Alex injects in amusement.

“Fanfiction says Misha and I are married.” comes from Rich’s corner. 

At this Misha sits up, preparing his list of things why Misha-will-never-be-married-to-Richard-Speight-Who-Got-a-Rob impromptu—

“I’m married.” Alex retorts but Richard and Misha are bickering over the type of marriage to hear him.

“You both can say whatever the hell you want, Cockles will top.” 

Sometimes Jensen just can’t bridle it. Sending Misha his heart eyes flirtatiously, he stops the argument with a wink. Misha giggles with all tiredness gone, replying to Alex about marriage while Rich says something about Jibcon to Jensen when things begin to go wrong.

Misha did not see it happen. He was busy looking over Jensen, admiring the bravado and confidence about the newly found comfort over their relationship (and their characters) when a loud bang from his right splits the air, followed by crashing sounds of that thing that Misha dreads, one of the worst sounds he never wants to hear in his life.

 But that’s only just the beginning.

The first explosion rocked the plane violently forward, then topples without warning to their right. It throws them off with seatbelts tightening—making them grab around the seats, stomach in their throat as they keep their steady hold. 

Misha looks outside to the cloud of smoke and crashing debris, his mind tuning only to the present and hears himself as well as Jensen and Richard cursing with jesuschrists. Misha doesn’t know. He was never a steadfast believer but for this one, he’s already calling out god. 

The show’s influence is deeper than he thought. He thinks of all the near-death experiences he’s had but it’s nothing compared to this one. For one, he can only look at Jensen and the feeling sinks in the hollowness of his guts.

This is worse, much worse than the drop tower ride or any gyro drop his children always admired him for riding. No. Here the safety belts that kicked in didn't secure anything from the loud crashing sounds that pierced their ears, the shrill sound of the engine roaring like as it beat fragments unto the air leaving maybe nothing of its parts. How many engines are exploding?

Misha doesn’t close his eyes. He tries to deny the possibility that this is where him, Jensen—  Alex, god Alex just got married! He’s so much more ahead of his life— and Rich just might finally find their end. An irony of life where the show that’s keeping their lives together now also on the way to its end. A kind of twist in reality that’s been shown by many, if not more famous names ahead of himself but Misha tries not to think about them. He tries not to think about the same profession that killed them. He can’t afford it, oh god his children…

He realized he didn’t even kiss West goodbye the morning he left. How he left the unkempt dish on the sink in a hurry. How he didn’t check Maison’s daily log of mischief she does while he’s away.

Now he may not return.

He closes his eyes as the plane shudders violently again. Please...

He calls Castiel’s name too, the back of his mind telling him they're dying. A more humorous, sadistic side of himself adding Dean is here, and that angel of Thursday isn’t going to let his husband die.  They shouldn’t. He and Castiel shouldn’t.

But he’s no Castiel. He’s only Misha.

If anyone asked him how he felt when the plane steadies itself as the pilots pull for control, Misha is not sure anyone would believe him. For the briefest second, he feels this tug at the back of his mind telling him it will be alright and the remarkable part is, Misha believed it. Fucking believe the whisper.

That’s when everything settles down.

Misha quickly looks around at Jense, Rich, and Alex. All of them are pale and he knows he doesn’t look any better. He wants to throw up but the uncertainty of the flight kept him guarded, his grip on the armchair not loosening.

“You guys alright?” Jensen’s voice much deeper than Misha remembers barely managed a nod.

Alex is looking at the floor with concentration where laptops, neck pillows, cups, and stuff are all scattered on the ground. Richard looks as if he’s going to throw up the way he’s holding his stomach. Jensen is staring outside the right window while Misha tells himself to breathe.

“Are you alright?” comes Cliff’s low voice from behind Misha sounding obviously shaken too but still steady. Misha didn’t have time to collect himself. Not that he’s stupid, his body just doesn’t get it, but he quickly pulls his phone and begins texting Vicky and the children.

“What the hell happened?” Richard turns his head over the cockpit when the rumbling dies down.

“Right engine exploded.”  Jensen is already unbuckling himself from his chair and casting everyone a look. “You all good? Mish? Cliff?” He doesn’t wait for answers. He shoots off to the cockpit and stops just by the door looking uncertain. 

“Hey, uh… do we have a situation?” Nobody spoke while he was gone so it's easy to hear the response of the pilots ahead.

“We most certainly do. Get in your seat. Put on your seat belt. We’re doing emergency procedures.”

Calm. Collected. Professional. That’s all Misha had to hear. It doesn’t seem like he’s alone. Everyone else breathes in relief as they all watch Jensen amble back to his seat, nodding. 

“Okay, you certainly have my attention, sir.” 

He buckles up and lifts his chin. The look on their faces must’ve triggered Jensen to clap his hands together. “Hey, buckle up! Cliff, sit down. Rich, breathe, kay? It’s gonna be fine. It’s only one engine, guys, c’mon. This thing flies on three! You think Jared had anyone else to listen to about private jet education? We’re gonna be fine.”

Then like heaven-sent, the pilot begins giving them reports of the situation from the paging in a very clear and commanding voice.  He tells them the right engine exploded which requires them to make a trip back to the nearest airport in Vancouver. That’s all he gives and a promise of an update as he wished everybody to stay calm and follow the protocol for emergency procedures.

“Hear that?” Jensen clears his throat, his hands clasping. Misha receives the full impact of the meaningful green eyes. The plane steadies itself with hum in the air. A full minute pass and the airplane did not drop.

“Fuck.”

Misha forces himself to relax as he drops his head back on his chair.  He can’t feel his body. His hands are still trembling when he smacks it on his cold face. “Fuck!” He can’t seem to say anything other than that.

“Fuck, indeed.” Richard agrees, grabbing his phone, “Good thing I got my pods on, that sound coulda destroyed my ears.” he begins typing on his phone immediately. Alex begins a speed typing contest while Misha receives Vicky's reply after his first message.

‘Kids are mine, right?’

‘Because I cannot make them alone. What’s wrong?’- V

Misha goes on about the engine and the exchange of mail becomes rampant. When about twenty minutes pass with a few throws of questions around, Misha looks up when he hears the blubbing sound of whiskey. Jensen is pouring 

“I’m gonna be drinking that scotch when I get back home,” he’s saying as he hands the glasses each to Richard, Alex and finally to Misha who shakes his head, putting the glass on the holder. Jensen takes the armchair beside him to which Misha is glad, especially when Jensen wounds his arm around his shoulder.

“We’re fine, Mish, stop shaking.” Jensen drops the side of his cheeks on Misha’s raven hair.

“I’m not,” Misha says shakily, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s torso and just pulling him into a tight hug. “Fuck!”

Continue reading: AO3

[ajokeformur-ray]

What’s going on with me.

I feel very whiny and like maybe there’s... not actually anything to be feeling so heavy about but I’m pushing past that and posting it anyway. I’ve got nothing to lose. It’s under a cut; there’s no obligation to read this if you don’t want to. The part where it does get emotionally heavy is very clearly marked.

Word count so you know what you’re in for: 1, 577.

I’m terrified. Of everything. All of the time. It feels like I’m stuck in my own skin and like I can’t breathe and I’ve been watching so much horror over the last few weeks just to feel a different kind of fear, just to feel something else which I know I can turn off when I’ve had enough. Even when I turn off the horror, I’m still so scared and it’s quickly becoming a new normal. I’m scared and angry and upset and I feel so heavy and even when I’m just sat down on my bed, my heart is pounding and it’s just really hard to sit still. But at the same time all I want to do is just sit on my bed and let myself waste away. Yesterday was the most emotional I’ve been for the last few weeks; I kept crying and the slightest thing would set me off; a message from someone on here was the most common thing to make me cry because it meant they were okay, at least in the time they had sent the message.

Dad got sick with a stomach virus from work, which I just found out he still has over a week later, and due to a traumatic time in my life I now have a very embarrassing (but still valid) fear which is closely linked to dad’s sickness. I am deeply troubled by the idea that I or someone else will get sick in the same way and to balance this, I haven’t been eating as much because if I avoid food, then I won’t need to use the bathroom so often. Plus, gluten free food is expensive and the less I eat, the less my parents have to go shopping and this reduces their exposure to the virus. None of this is logical and it’s definitely detrimental to my own health, but fear is never rational. To be clear, I am eating... just enough to keep my parents off my back about how little I’m eating; which is usually two meals a day. I rarely eat more than that, even if I’m physically cramping from hunger. My parents have called me up about it a few times but I just... don’t want to eat. I’m so, so scared of people getting sick or dying. I don’t care so much about what happens to me, but my loved ones...I’m terrified.

 I keep having nightmares of people dying. I had a nightmare a few weeks back in which someone on here died and I woke up in a cold sweat to message them and to just... make sure they were okay. They were definitely okay and if they’re reading this, then they know who they are. Not last night but the night before, I had a horrible dream in which I was outside and people’s masks were just dropping off their faces without anyone touching them, or they would move so the mask would slip off their nose and only cover their mouth, and my mum in the dream said, “you may as well take your mask off, you’ve probably got it by now” but it wasn’t the mask which slid off my face; my entire face melted away and dropped off and I woke up crying. I was also kind of impressed by my imagination; it was gory and it actually hurt; my dreams are so vivid it takes me like an hour to realise i'm actually Awake and everyone's okay and i'm so scared that people are gonna get Covid and die and i'll never hear from them and just wonder what happened to them. I’ve had an internet friend die in real life and I never found out what happened to her; I don’t even know if she is dead but one of her last messages was harrowing and no one’s heard from her since. This was two years ago so I can only draw my own conclusions and they’re heartbreaking. 

I lay awake at night unable to sleep, or if I can sleep, I don’t want to, because what if one of you dies in the night and I missed your last message? Tumblr is my sanity right now; I’m furloughed from my job (and I don’t even know if I still have a job, that’s up in the air as well because I work at a small cafe) and I’m graduated from university so all I have right now is my writing and the lovely people on here. This is my biggest coping mechanism and by now it’s probably tipped into the unhealthy region but I don’t care, not right now. The world’s crumbling around us and any coping mechanism, especially if it involves the imagination, at least to my thinking, is essential for survival right now so I’m letting it happen. If I'm not writing, I’m not being productive, which means I’m wasting my day and if I’m wasting my day, why am I here?

Aaand, speaking of... (this is where it gets emotionally heavy so feel free to tap out if you’re reading this! Fair warning 🥰)

I just... want to fade out and not exist anymore. I'm so fucking tired and I've had enough. I'm just so scared it's like I can't even breathe. I don’t even know if my thoughts are mine anymore; on the one hand I feel whiny and like I’m making up things to be scared about but on the other hand I know that I’m valid in my emotions. I feel like I should just shut up and deal with it and focus as much as I can on others because the trap of thinking that suffering is a competition is easy to fall into, and every time I think I can handle the fear it just gets stronger and I’m just.... I wanna get out. Of everything. I’m so tired. I also keep losing time... I'll stare at the window and when I look back at the clock it’s been like twenty minutes and I didn’t even notice. 

I just want to sit on my bed and let myself rot; I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to sleep. I just want to... fade out and away; to lay down and go to sleep and not wake up again. My mum keeps asking me what I’m going to do with my future now that I’m graduated (the career questions started three days after I graduated, I? Give me a breaaaaak), and I can barely see past today, what makes you think I’m thinking of a future I no longer believe in? I already said to her that I was taking a year out, a gap between graduation and deciding on a career, because a) I genuinely need and want a break and b) what’s the rush? I’m only 23; life doesn’t stop at 25. I still have lots of time to figure myself out. But my mum says that I’m not getting any younger, either - and that’s true. She wants me to go into teaching and that’s... not what I want to do. “Oh, but you can be a professor - “ Mum, that’s still teaching and I don’t want to do that but then she accuses me of not caring and... honestly, she’s right but I can’t tell her that. She cares, she does, and I know that she loves me, but shit. Can’t a woman breathe?

I did know what I wanted to do in my life... and then just at the point where my dreams were becoming a reality, I found out that the savings I’d been working so hard to save up for during the three years I was in university weren’t enough even with how hard I’d worked, and then the pandemic happened.... I had Real Plans to fly out to my dream on the fifteenth October this year and I feel like I’ve wasted my life, to boil it right down. I am twenty three. I have plenty of time but I also feel like I’ve ruined and wasted my life. In many ways, I feel like a ghost. I feel like I’ve literally died and I just haven’t noticed yet. I am a shell of myself due to unhealed traumas, I am a ghost of the Erika I once knew... she’s in there somewhere, I just have to coax her out. I am so, so scared that I’ll be forty and nothing’s changed and then the next thing I know, I’ll be dead and... all I can feel is fear.

I’m doing what I can to focus on and to help others because I feel like that’s a better use of my time than sitting and letting myself rot (also a tempting thought...) and I find genuine joy in supporting people. Everyone is suffering and I so often end up just crying over my laptop because my heart’s breaking for everyone and I wish I could just give everyone here a hug, wipe their tears away and be there for them. But all I have to do that with is a laptop and it never feels like enough and I just... I feel very heavy and tired and scared and I don’t know what to do. I have no idea how to help myself. It’s an effort even to brush my hair - half an hour thinking about it while I mindlessly scroll tumblr, another twenty minutes to find something to watch on YouTube while I do it, and then maybe ten minutes to actually brush my hair. Everything’s a chore and an effort and I’m. So. Tired. I’ve had enough and I just want my Joker. I don’t even know what he’d think or do about all of this...

[tanya-fox]

I can Spot a Fake Domme

After 17 years in the Kink scene, having 5 Mistresses in that time myself, and knowing many pro dommes (many who are great friends), I can easily spot a fake. Perhaps they are new and think they know what a Mistress does, or maybe they have been topped from the bottom from cum hungry sissies so think this is the norm. The bottom line is, not every submissive is the same, just as not every Domme is the same.

So when you tell me that you might let me eat my cum or will fuck me, what makes you think that is something I want to even do or experience? Just because one slut wants it, doesn’t mean every other slut wants it. Me personally, I have no interest in sexual submission. You start talking that rubbish to me and I will block you. I can’t be bothered with it.

If you’re one of those “Real” Dommes you might take the time to get to know me and allow me the time to get to know you. Ask questions, find out what makes the submissive tick. This way you can determine if they are right for you and vice versa. Not every submissive/slave/sissy wants to be pegged or in a chastity device. Some do, good on them, but not all.

I am tired of you wannabe fake mistresses (small “m” deliberate) hassling me thinking just because I am a submissive I will drop to my knees because of your title.

The other issue I have with fake dommes is their location. Some people do online submission and it works for them, but be careful!! I have no desire to do online. I need to be touched. This pandemic has me needing touch so badly right now that anyone who wants a hug from me usually get it!!! Touching myself just doesn’t seem to work the same way. Often the picture they send you is not really them either...

So to all you wanna be dommes, do some homework, learn your craft, say the right things, because then people like me will take you more seriously. If we get to the point of telling you what we like, don’t ignore it, work with it. If you just ignore it and say something else, the conversation is over... And I will block you because I ran out of patience. Unlike many of my friends, I don’t have a lot of it.