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jeongi · 5 years

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caught me. | jjk (m)

(edit done by my love, @httpjeon)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jungkook x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 13.5k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | roommate au. slight e2l au. smut. porn with very little plot.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. mentions of vaping. mutual masturbation, sex toy usage, oral sex (f + m receiving), gagging, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, some wall fucking, riding, unprotected sex (you know the drill, wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, jungkook has tattoos, long wavy hair and a giant schlong.

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you hate your temporary roommate, jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.

“Seokjin, how could you do this to me?” You whine from the kitchen island, reflexively stabbing at the bowl of cereal in front of you. You can’t believe your roommate is just now telling you, a day before he leaves for vacation, that his “friend” will be temporarily moving in while he’s away. Of course, Seokjin pays no mind to your tantrum. Instead, he continues packing the last of his luggage in the living space, across the room. Simply rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh in response, he’s far more acquainted with your antics than he’d like to be. He could almost call you the younger sibling he most certainly never wanted, a nuisance wrapped in feigned misery. The arrangement between the two of you seemed nothing more than the result of a last-ditch Craigslist roommate search.

He should have known the consequences, he supposes.

Another sigh escapes his lips as he turns his attention away from the luggage. “_____, I’m only leaving for three months.”

You wail again, this time, your arms stretching across the cool, granite counter to push the bowl away from yourself. You’ve wholly lost your appetite, ready to wreak havoc as you slide off the stool you’re sat on and stomp your way over to him.

“I don’t care about you leaving me!” Seokjin scoffs at this statement, returning his focus to the open suitcase laid on the floor in front of him. “I care about you stuffing me in this apartment with a complete stranger while you’re gone.” What was the fucker’s name again? Jon Q, John Cook? You’re furious, but of course, Seokjin fails to take notice of this. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone and scrolls through his extensive list of items to pack. He’s only gotten through half of it.

Your words don’t seem to have much of an impact on him, fueling your fury. “What if he tries to murder me? Or even worse, what if I end up murdering him? You won’t even be here to help me hide the body— this is a travesty!” This is followed with another signature sigh, all drama, your wrist shooting up to your forehead as you dab at invisible sweat.

You briefly think you might actually hate Seokjin.

He pauses, dropping his phone into the open luggage before craning his head towards you. Blinking, purely baffled by the lunacy he has to constantly put up with, he internally gives his utmost gratitude to the heavens that his work has sent him on this European trip tomorrow. Three clean months of the peaceful canals of Venice, the Colosseum in Rome, the Eiffel Tower in Paris and most importantly, three lovely quiet months away from you. Suddenly, three months no longer seems an eternity to him. How could it? He assesses you top to bottom, seeing nothing more than a rabid young woman scorned, hands placed sternly on her hips, expectant of a reply.

No sir, three months is not long enough at all.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut as he speaks through gritted teeth. “You are the most melodramatic person I know— you think you can afford to pay my rent for the next three months?” This shuts you up momentarily.

For a moment, you’re disarmed. You can’t argue that he’s right, and you hate admitting it’s the only reason for your new (temporary) roommate.

Releasing his nose, he looks at you, warming a little. “Look, he asked to stay here -temporarily- until he finds his own place. He’s my best friend; wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

That final bit had the effect he wanted it to, and boy, did it sting. Of course, you’d do the same for your best friend. The only trouble is that you know very little information about this John Cook character, only getting brief details about him moving into the big city for the first time and Seokjin “graciously” providing him a rental until he can find something more permanent. It isn’t a fault on Seokjin’s half. You just don’t know the poor bastard.

Beyond that, you know this guy is a Taekwondoin, moving here to join one of the most prestigious Taekwondo academies in the country. Your blood runs cold in a sudden rush, a certain grim realization dawning on you that you’d absolutely be no match for him if he did try to kill you. Perhaps Seokjin has told you so late because he too wants you dead. You really shouldn’t have met him through Craiglist.

You consider leaving a lengthy, final Tumblr post in remembrance of your inevitable end, hoping one of your 12 followers would come forth and save you from a gruesome slashing. At best, someone saves your life. At worst, you’ve written your own eulogy.

Huffing a breath of frustration, something akin to a groan escapes you as you march back to the kitchen island for your now soggy bowl of cereal. It only fuels your now quiet rage further, but pettiness takes over, mentally muting Seokjin’s yelling profanities after watching you dispose of one of his favourite glass bowls. It’s the least you can do as revenge.

As it turns out, Jeon Jungkook is a nearly six feet tall mural of muscle and inked skin that rarely stays home. His dark wavy hair falls gracefully past his large doe eyes, and his plethora of tattoos litter the tight expanse of his neck and arms. Notably, the blossom of two red roses painted over the porcelain of his neck.

Though verbally a silent roommate, you find he vapes far too much and equally plays far too much Fortnite at odd hours of the night. He only comes out of his room to either make himself food or to leave the apartment, and a couple of times you could have almost sworn he might’ve been doing his laundry. He’s a feast to lay eyes on, that much is irrefutable but he leaves at least one utensil unwashed after eating, irritating you to an unprecedented degree.

Jungkook also enjoys eating ramen at two in the morning- you know this because it wakes you up almost every time you hear the microwave blare its oppressive siren. He also figures he must shower each time he returns home from being out, suitably fattening your poor water bill. You’ve only briefly spoken to him a handful of times, mostly about house rules and a tour of the facilities.

It’s only been two weeks since he’s arrived, yet you already seem to despise him- sending Seokjin angry messages from across the globe about this, all of which have been ignored. You’ve been too busy lately anyway, rarely seeing Jungkook who seems to be out for most of the day.

However, it’s today that you finally catch him when you’re just coming home from work. He sits at the kitchen island, flipping through a comic while he loudly chomps on an open bag of shrimp chips, pausing to look at you as you make your way inside.

You’re on speakerphone with your friend Nari, both of your arms too occupied and laden with groceries to normally hold the phone to your ear. Upon seeing this, Jungkook gets up from his seat and immediately rushes to lend a hand. He’s completely shirtless, his loose dark sweatpants hugging the low subtle curve of his hips, and it’s only then that you notice the mosaic of more tattoos scattered across his skin beyond his full sleeves and the two red roses on his neck. He has much more than you had initially seen, a large black and white snake running over his pelvic bone. It draws your eyes forward, let’s it linger over to his bare abdomen, untouched with ink and defined with muscle. You can see it evidently, the indents carved into him as if he’s been sculpted from the finest of limestone.

You catch yourself from staring, thanking him with a silent bow of your head as he turns away from you, all the bags of groceries now racked effortlessly down his taut arms. Your momentary and involuntary ogling is cut short by Nari’s voice booming through the loudspeaker of your phone.

“God, you really need to get laid soon- I’m tired of you being so grumpy.” You freeze, nearly choking on your own saliva. “I already deal with one grump on a daily, I don’t need to add another to my inventory.”

Fuck. “Yeah, well, working on it!” You titter nervously into the microphone. It’s all in vain, for Nari is relentless in her pursuits.

“Didn’t you say your new roommate was hot? Just fuck him, that’d be pretty convenient. It’s like, like...dick-on-demand!” She laughs, guffawing into the mic as though it’s the most hilarious thing she has ever said. You stand there, eyes wide and mortified as the cackle from the other end of the line sounds more villainous than genuine humour. Her words linger still in the air, and a very deep desire to Crtl+Z yourself from life’s current existence fills your petrified body.

You know Jungkook has heard the words because he pauses in his step very briefly, faint stutters in his movement as his back stays turned towards you. Before you catch the slightest motion of his head about to look over his shoulder, you’re whipping around and fumbling for your phone. With the greatest deft you can muster, your thumbs desperately try smashing the giant red ‘end call’ button.

To no avail, the phone screen freezes, Nari’s cackling report still filing through.

You think this feels like a nightmare. In fact, you’re certain you’ve had a nightmare precisely like this before. Except this is real, very much real and you’re humiliated. cheeks surely flushed crimson as you tut in annoyance at your malfunctioning product of capitalism.

Jungkook simply clears his throat and continues moving towards the kitchen once again, acting as if nothing has happened. Under any other circumstances, you would almost be offended, but given the current nature of what has just transpired, you both let the feeling pass. “Anyway,” Nari continues and you wish she’d shut up. “I gotta go, Yoongi just got Minecraft and I’m going to give him the best head of his life,” she groans into the mic in satisfaction. “I love you, bye!” She cuts the mic, completely and blissfully unaware of the impending Armageddon she’s inadvertently spawned. You’re stood there in horrified silence, counting to five in your head before you’re very anxiously swivelling around.

You open your mouth to say something, but words fail you. What could you even say?

Jungkook cuts in. “I’ll uh, put these away. Don’t worry about it.” He beams you a rather charming grin, completely devoid of any awkward tension that filled the air moments ago. Somehow, this surprises you far more than if he had acknowledged it.

You thank him with haste, your feet acting much quicker than your head as you swiftly cut across the kitchen towards the hallway where your bedroom stands. Avoiding eye contact at all costs, your face is surely now painted just as red as Jungkook’s bag of shrimp chips on the counter.

Perhaps it’s to ease yourself more than anything that you decide to get angry over this situation. You’re not angry at Nari, no, you’re angry at Jungkook. Who was he to waltz into your apartment and have you monitor your phone calls? And be shirtless nonetheless? Had he no manners? Why should you have to tiptoe around him? You think if this were Seokjin, he wouldn’t nearly make everything so uncomfortable for you in your own place of living. Seokjin would also wash all his dishes and sleep at a reasonable time. This thought only fuels you more.

The words slip out of you before you can even comprehend stopping. “For Christ’s sake wear a shirt while I’m home, I don’t need to see you prancing half naked around the apartment. This isn’t Magic Mike, it’s home- my home.” You bark, halting Jungkook in his movements as he goes to place a new carton of milk into the fridge. He turns to look at you, the dangle of his silver earrings glinting against the light and you almost grimace at how attractive he looks in this moment.

Before he can respond, you’re pivoting away from him and walking towards your bedroom.

You slam your door with a thud and let out a strangled groan. Perhaps it was too harsh, the anger is now replaced with further distress. You toss yourself onto your mattress, stuffing your face into the nearest pillow and restraining yourself with every ounce of self-control you have from screaming your lungs out into it.

You hadn’t even called Jungkook hot, you had mentioned that he was conventionally attractive- which wasn’t a lie in the slightest. You’re half tempted to call her back and scold her good for the humiliation she’s so blissfully unaware of causing, but as you pick up your phone, a text flashes across your screen with a name you’re all too familiar with. And all too soon, your agitation grinds to a halt, dissipates and metamorphosizes into a goofy, toothy grin.

Taehyung - [1 New Text Message]

Kim Taehyung works just across the room from you on the seventh floor of the accounting firm. He has rich blonde hair and plump pink lips that he constantly wets with a dab of his tongue. You swear he’s been purposely winding you up recently, the brushes against your skin too frequent, the lingering stares too prolonged and the husk in his voice too low when he speaks to you. You’ve had a crush on Taehyung since you’ve started working at the firm, two years ago. Of course, he’s completely unaware of this.

5:44pm [Taehyung]: Hey, can I ask you for a favour?

The squeal you let out is unbearable, even to you. You feel the reminiscence of being back in middle school when your sixth-grade crush, Park Jimin had asked you to the Halloween dance. Of course, that night had ended terribly for you, catching Jimin and your rival, Sooya slow dancing while you went to get unnaturally lukewarm fruit punch from the snack bar. But much like right now, you remember the butterflies fluttering through your entire body the night before the dance.

Feeling the crimson warmth return to your cheeks, you clutch your phone to your chest while a coy smile stretches across your lips. You practice your well-rehearsed, five-minute wait before texting Taehyung back, typing and retyping your response until you’re satisfied with a legible reply. Pursing your lips, you go back and forth between adding a smiley face or not, ultimately choosing to go with one just to further the delusions in your head that adding one will somehow make him fall madly in love with you.

5:50pm [You]: of course you can! :)

You gasp when your phone vibrates within seconds, a giddy coo leaving you as his name flashes once more across your screen. You slap a hand over your mouth when you hear the footsteps of Jungkook pass by your door, your eyes darting towards the shadow of his feet seen just underneath the crack of your door. His room- rather Seokjin’s room- is right next door to yours, another unfortunate occurrence in your miserable life.

5:50pm [Taehyung]: Could you possibly drop me off at the airport tomorrow morning? I’ll treat you to breakfast on the way!!

Your grin grows tenfold, your teeth clutching your bottom lip in its hold as you glide your fingers over the keyboard with an answer.

5:52pm [You]: it’d be my pleasure!!

It seems as if everyone but you and Jungkook were going away on vacation from this hell city. Perhaps you may be in need of one too.

You drop Taehyung off at the airport at five in the morning. You think it should be illegal for anyone to wake up at such an hour. You hadn’t had much time to sleep, Jungkook’s nightly ramen snacking occurring at exactly two in the morning, just two hours before you were supposed to be awoken by the chirps of your alarm. As if the morning couldn’t have gotten any worse, you had learned Taehyung was travelling abroad to meet his very long-term and long-distance girlfriend for the first time. Your luck seems to have worsened as you’ve aged. All the signs you thought you’d seen of him visibly showing his interest in you had all been in your head.

By the time you reach home, it’s six, the sun barely peeking through the hillside view from your apartment and your eyes are droopy, heavy with sleep. A yawn escapes you as you place your keys on the kitchen counter before you kick off your shoes and shuffle towards the living room in a slump. You plop onto the couch, releasing a long exhale as you lift your feet up to lay more comfortably.

Briefly, you think you should stay up and get your day started, as you reckon most people who have their shit together would do as such. Unfortunately for your itinerary, you’re not most people and you’re certainly not someone who has their shit together. You’re _____ and you’re now dreaming, dreaming of a single Kim Taehyung.

His mouth is on yours, golden locks under the tight grip of your fingers and his cock is steadily rocking into you, fingers digging into your sides. He has you seated on the bathroom counter, your legs circled around his waist as his sharp thrusts elicit the neediest of cries from you.

“Taehyung!” You’re moaning, eyes rolled so far back into your skull, you feel the pull of your optic nerve. Loosening your grip on Taehyung’s hair, he moves away from your mouth and rests his forehead in the crook of your neck. Every curve of his dick plunges in calculated fashion into your cunt, egging you closer to your undoing.

Another sharp thrust has your entire body shuddering, a lapse of jitters filling you as your orgasm rumbles through you. When Taehyung lifts his head from the crook of your neck, you gasp. For when you look at his face, it’s no longer Taehyung, it’s now Jungkook.

He offers a lopsided smirk, an indent of his dimple forming around the right side of his mouth while a finger trails down your cheek.

“Wake up,” the apparition whispers.

You gasp awake, spine shooting upright as you heave heavy breaths. Skimming your hands over your face, you let out a frustrated groan, bewilderment and daze hitting you as you land right back to reality.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You hear a low voice and you immediately shriek, arms hugging yourself in a mock attempt to hide yourself even if you are fully clothed at the moment. You look over, glancing at the tall, frozen figure stood in the kitchen. His doe eyes are wide, startled by your reaction, dark hair wavy and long, clinging around the edge of his pale face and you can see the faintest trace of the red ink on his neck underneath the loose collar of his black hoodie. He’s got a knife in one hand and a half-cut tomato laid on a cutting board in front of him. “I-I was going to wake you up for lunch but…” His face has suddenly flushed to a shade of rose, tongue swiftly dabbing at his bottom lip. He clears his throat and hesitates before looking away. “Y-you seemed engrossed in your sleep, I didn’t want to wake you up.” What was that supposed to mean?

When you look behind him, the pot on the stove is steaming and it’s then that you catch the aroma of sauteed onions and oregano. Naturally, your mouth instantly waters, eyes glancing over to the digital clock that displays itself on the stove. It reads as five minutes past noon and you rub your eyes with the back of your hand before you’re blinking towards the time again. Had you really passed out for a solid six hours? How long had Jungkook been here? “You...don’t have work today?” You swallow, slowly raising up your feet.

Jungkook merely chuckles and shakes his head no. The silver of his dangling earrings swings with this motion. “I’m not working yet, I’m a student at Master Seong’s.” You had almost forgotten about the Taekwondo Academy, it’s the exact reason he’s now standing here in your kitchen cutting tomatoes. “Hopefully, I’ll be the one teaching by next year.” As he speaks, you notice he has a perfect set of pearly whites but then you think of course he does- anything that would make Jeon Jungkook less perfect at this point would be a micropenis. For whatever reason, that makes your blood boil but as much as you’re in disdain, the thought instantly brings attention to a sweltering puddle between your legs.

Your head shoots down, feet shifting uncomfortably as you feel a slick cling against your panties and it’s then that every aspect of your sex dream hits you in a movie montage. You had fully and wholeheartedly dreamt of Jungkook fucking you.

You gasp, unwillingly, feet losing balance before you catch yourself against the counter. Jungkook pauses and looks at you, a tentative eyebrow cocking in your direction in question.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, more curious than considerate. His voice seems to ebb and flow with the sultry ease that only he could— my god, maybe you do need to get laid.

You use your elbows to push yourself off the counter before you’re walking over to the stove, body brushing against Jungkook’s back as you reach for the vent switch.

“Next time you cook something, turn on the exhaust fan or else it’ll get smokey in here.” You say, voice stoic like ice in this smothering heat, ignoring the blatant arousal seeping out of your cunt. You brush past him once more to make way towards the hallway.

Jungkook sighs in defeat, watching as your figure disappears into your bedroom.

The moth outside your window bats against the patio light with a fierce determination that boggles your mind. You wonder what might be going through the moth’s head: does it ponder this alien, man-made warmth it now feverishly flutters around? Does it understand it in the slightest? Why else would such a simple creature be breaking the peace of a sticky midsummer’s eve?

You glance at the clock on your dresser. It’s now half past midnight, and you’re dying in this stupid heat. Perhaps it didn’t help that you had a six-hour nap, impressed by your ability to do so in broad daylight. And you can’t get it out of your head, the dream. It’s kept you horny all day- in need of relief. You think about the last time you’ve had sex, a one night stand with a tall, polite gentleman named Namjoon. It was quite possibly the best sex you’ve ever had, a shame you never caught his number.

With a less than pathetic groan of protest, you put your head between the pillow and the mattress, savouring the seconds of coolness that surround your head in a desperate bid to lower the temperature however you can. Something’s got to be better than stringing sex and a fucking invertebrate into the same train of thought this late at night.

Raising your head up from the pillow, you weigh your options. You’re not about to drink yourself to sleep, and your secret supply of ZzzQuil has run dry. Fortunately, you have a solution.

It’s nights like tonight that you can’t hold yourself back, orgasms helped you sleep better anyway. Your vibrator mocks you, blinking as it charges for the first time in weeks. You hear Jungkook shuffle on the other side of the room, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you quietly reach your bedside table for a pair of headphones. You grasp at odds and ends until your fingers find purchase, and with a small sense of victory, you pull a very tangled mess of headphones from the drawer. You hear a cough on the other side and pause, gulping as if you’re fourteen all over again and just discovered the fruits of pleasuring yourself for the first time.

The vibrator’s LED light switches to a solid green, indicating its readiness to abuse your very untouched clit. You flush at the thought, yet eager as the familiar moisture pools in between your legs. You’re suddenly all too ready, all too demanding of the touch of a toy that you haven’t felt in too long. Why had you been putting this off for so long?

Unplugging it from the outlet next to your bed, you slip off your shorts and lay comfortably back onto your mattress. Another blush creeps onto your cheeks, your thumb unlocking your phone and opening the Chrome app. Making sure to switch to a private browser, you hesitantly type it in.

‘Pornhub’

The link loads embarrassingly quickly and you flush further, a mix of both the heat and your self chagrin marking the apples of your cheeks. You don’t even know what to look for, the home page overwhelming you with a variety of sinful thumbnails, begging to be clicked on. It almost makes you grimace in distaste, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the situation at hand. You decide against pornography, gripping onto your imagination as you toss your phone aside and clear your throat, settling back onto the mattress with your eyes closed.

You’ll think about Namjoon. His broad hands, slender fingers and that deliciously thick cock. His moans, his honey skin and the way he was able to make you come twice that night.

Spreading your legs apart, you fixate the vibrator against your heat, gasping at the cool tip of the silicone already sensitive against your clit. You’re already soaked, the head gliding over your clit with slick.

It feels wrong when you turn the device on, the low buzz of vibrations filling the air. Brows knitted together, you picture Namjoon again. Trying to imagine the stroke of his tongue against your folds as the buzz of your vibrator rings through you, you gasp at the overwhelming sensation. Why didn’t you do this more often? You try to stay quiet, breathing growing laboured as the image of Namjoon between your legs morphs into something else. Rather, it morphs into someone else.

You see it in your head, your fingers threading through dark curls, legs pinned apart by two ink-sleeved arms. When you look down, you’re met by the intense gaze of brown doe eyes, his brows furrowed as his tongue flicks relentlessly against you. It’s almost as he’s smirking at you, the slightest quirk in his eyebrow implying that he knows he’d fucking you well with only his tongue. The image makes you shudder, shaking your head as you kick this sick fantasy out of your mind. Were you out of your mind?

On the other side of the room, Jungkook’s ears perk up to the sound of this low buzz. He hadn’t realized you were still awake. But as the buzzing intensifies, and a rhythmic deep breathing follows, it soon grows impossible to ignore. He has to be certain. Cautiously removing one earphone, he almost leans into the noise, cocking his head to the side.

No, that’s definitely you, alright.

You gasp as you apply more pressure to your clit, eyes rolling back from the waves of vibrations surging through your entire body. You can’t get it out of your head, imagining Jungkook’s taut arms holding you down, his tongue unforgiving against you. The moan that escapes you is wholly on accident, a hand slapping against your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself further.

Jungkook sits at his desk, dumbfounded. Were you really doing what he thought you were? Surely not. It’s then that hears the moan. It penetrates the thin wall that separates the two of you and stirs a familiar twitch in his boxers. He feels it press against the fabric, stretching with every heartbeat that knocks against his ribcage. His breathing begins to deepen, only letting his imagination wander as to what you were doing in this moment, merely a few feet away.

No, he thinks. Absolutely not. Behave yourself.

You’re…well, you’re moaning.

Fuck this, Jungkook’s inner dialogue protests. If you’re not going to play fair, then neither is he. He rises from his desk, tripping slightly over his office chair, clattering the plastic wheels against the hardwood floor. The sound reverberates through what feels like the entire house, and the silence is broken by the impact, which by all accounts seems far too noisy for its own good.

Jungkook freezes, terrified. The buzzing ceases just as suddenly, and the air is replaced with an undesirable discomfort.

Inside your room, your left hand tightens over your mouth the other switches off the vibrator. The kerfuffle seemed to have occurred frighteningly close, prompting a sudden cease to desist all sinful pleasures. The anxieties come in waves, one after another. Did he hear you? Oh God, how long was he listening? Was that even him?

A painful eternity passes. The silence fills the house once more, the crickets outside resuming their nightly song.

Jungkook half expects you to barge into his room, fuming at him for being a pervert and listening in but your feared assault never comes. If anything, his cock only seems to grow harder, the thought of you pleasuring yourself just on the other side of the wall so alluring, he begins to palm himself over his boxers.

You, on the other hand, upon the silence, convince yourself that he hadn’t heard after all. Surely, it was something else, Jungkook had probably already gone to bed.

Jungkook. Your lips form the shape of his name but no sound comes out, only a heavy exhale. This is wrong, beyond inappropriate and downright vulgar. It’s the dimples, you try to argue with yourself. Or those eyes, a deep coffee brown that take away from his masculine frame. It almost brings a childlike charm, distracts you from the surfeit of tattoos that mark his muscular build.

With impatience, you start the vibrator again, placing the device over your clit once more. You’re soaked beyond control, your own fingers itching to be stuffed inside yourself. Thumb hitting the setting button, the buzz of vibrations grow an octave higher as the intensity of the second setting rolls over your bead with a blast of euphoric pleasure. It’s almost too much, legs clamping shut as the judder of silicone repeatedly assaults your clit. Your panting growing quicker, inching you to tip over the edge. Oh, how you yearned to be filled with a cock.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, giving into the barbaric thoughts in his head. Quietly, he slides his boxers down his thighs and situates himself back onto his desk chair. His cock is throbbing, tip a blushed pink as his heartbeat begins to resonate harder. Were you doing this on purpose? Were you testing him? Teasing him? He rests his head back, eyes fluttering to a close as he holds the base of his painfully erect cock with his right hand.

His hand slowly begins to slide up and down his own length, twisting slightly whenever his fingers cross over his glans. The sensation fills him with ecstasy, and he can’t help but gasp as he tightens his grip and continues to stroke his cock. He thinks of you, on the other side of the wall with your legs spread, flushed and begging to be fucked. How well he’d fit inside you, how well you’d take him in your tight cunt and how you’d whimper his name into his ear. With these thoughts, his pace on himself quickens, breaths laboured against the air. This was wrong, so wrong but hearing you like this, imagining you sprawled on your bed in desperate need of his touch only pushes him further to his climax.

For a moment, he thinks about risking it all and just ripping your door open to fuck you into your next existence. He stays planted onto the leather seat, his hands roaming in a familiar rhythm.

You are minutes, seconds away from seeing strings of white. It’s when you raise your vibrator to its third setting that you come undone, biting the inside of your cheek as your orgasm plummets you to a new horizon and Jungkook’s name sits at the edge of your tongue.

You feel it spray out of you, your arousal sprinkling over your bed sheets in a clear indication of your collapse. You gasp and shudder, quick to turn off the device as its relentless motion becomes far too much for your sensitive clit.

You lay for a moment, gathering your bearings as your high lingers between the furrow of your eyebrows. Your head feels heavy, sleep overtaking every inch of your body and you begin nodding off almost instantaneously, vibrator still in hand. It’s when you shift to doze more comfortably that your thigh makes contact with a cool, wet splotch.

Your eyes spring open and you’re sitting up, flicking on your bedside lamp. You have just squirted all over your sheets, the damp puddle prominent and deride. You sit there in disbelief, blinking at the mess between your legs. You frown, suddenly becoming aware of the incessant pounding in your head from your high and you curse yourself for making such a mess.

Now you have to do the laundry, there’s no way you could sleep in these.

Jungkook is close, frustratingly so…it won’t take much at this rate for him to blow his load all over himself. He places his hand firmly around the chair handle, fingers gripping against the plastic. His other hand strokes faster than ever before, breaths deepening. And as he reaches his climax, the quietest of moans escape his lips, followed by your name. It’s so soft on his tongue, it feels uncouth. The trail of white fluid follows, spurts out of his cock and onto his stomach. He pants, quick to milk every ounce of himself with the squeeze of his palm around the edge of his head and then he’s reaching for his water bottle, taking a cool swig of the liquid.

He has to shower now, there’s no way he could sleep like this.

As you unhook the last of your sheets from the mattress, you quickly roll the fabric into a giant ball within your arms. You’re on your tippy-toes, hesitantly reaching for your door as you twist the knob and pull the barrier open. You look around, relieved to see the hallway engulfed in complete darkness. Jungkook’s door is closed, no light emitting through the cracks which means he must be asleep. Gingerly, you close the door behind you and tiptoe towards the end of the hall where the laundry room is- attached to the shared washroom.

You’re quick to stuff the sheets into the washer, loading the detergent into the cartridges and powering on the machine. The room’s lights aren’t even on, you’re too lazy to find them. Besides, the stark moonlight and LED of the washing machine are plenty of light enough. When you’ve set the machine to its cycle, you ponder on what the hell you can do with no bedsheets to aid in your sleep and your body covered in sweat.

Even if you are hotter than before, sweatier than before, slumber takes a toll on your body. Your head feels weighted, drowsy from your hard climax. You think a shower would work best, turning to go back into your room for a change of clothes when you bump into something, rather someone.

You shriek and take cover under your raised arms, a soft glow of white light sifting through the crack of your arms as the washroom lights get flickered on. Raising your head out of the shield of your arms, you find Jungkook standing in front of you, void of a shirt and clad by only a pair of boxers.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?” You can’t help it, your eyes wander, rake him from head to toe. You can see it, the ever so light outline of a bulge, something that is definitely nowhere near a micropenis.

“I was just...about to shower. I’m sorry- I didn’t know you would be out here, I would’ve worn more clothes” His gaze is soft with worry and you’re reminded of your earlier outburst. It was quite hypocritical of yourself when you’ve just fucked yourself on a sex toy to scandalous thoughts of him. His eyes flickers to the low drone of the washer and then back to you. “You’re doing laundry?”

Your cheeks flush, your voice hitching in your throat as you promptly pull up an excuse as to why you’re doing laundry at nearly two in the morning. “I-I spilled some tea on my sheets, I have to wash them.” You hope it’s convincing enough. “I was about to shower too.”

Jungkook regards you carefully, expecting a scolding for even asking but it never comes. You’re flustered and painted a shade of red he is familiar with. He’s only familiar with it because he too is the same shade of red. You two had been pleasuring yourselves, separately yet simultaneously. The memory almost brings a fresh wave of lust.

“Why are you showering at-” you glance at the time on your phone, “-one o’clock at night?” Jungkook doesn’t expect this question from you. You had never been interested in anything he did other than if it was something bothersome to scold over. He clears his throat and uses his slender fingers to push his hair back. You reckon he’ll need a haircut soon.

“I was exercising in my room.” Technically, masturbation was a certain form of exercise…

The air is stiff, you feel it. It crosses both of your minds, had you heard one another? Was it obvious? You shift on the balls of your feet, teeth crashing down on your bottom lip. “Well, who’s gonna shower first?” You eye his practically unclad figure. It’s impossible to not take notice of the Adonis belt that leads your vision straight to his casual bulge. You look away. “Technically I was here first.”

Jungkook chuckles and pokes the inside of his cheek with a tongue. “Technically this is your house too, right?”

Your head drops to the ground, a shameful pout crossing over your features. Perhaps you were too harsh earlier, but you may just be feeling this way from the endorphins.

You go against the wish for a shower, it’s the least you can do. “I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight, just letting you know. Please don’t make food at some obscure hour of the night or I will kill you.” With that, you push past him, your shoulder knocking against his arm as you head towards the living room.

To Jungkook, there’s something so beguiling about your clear disdain for him. He merely observes you from where he stands, feeling another rush of blood make way to his cock. How could you so ignorantly disregard that you had just been touching yourself? Did you really not know he could hear you? It baffles him, leaves him with another hard-on as he turns away, closing the washroom door behind him before he’s turning on the shower.

Today, you’ve had a shitty day.

Kim Taehyung has put in his two weeks' notice. He’s quitting this job to move halfway across the world and live with his girlfriend abroad and your boss had informed you one of your very own clients have committed tax fraud, costing your firm thousands. Along with this, you’ve spilled coffee over your white button-up and the hair tie holding your crisp bun up had snapped to unleash your unbrushed, unwashed owl’s nest.

When you walk into the apartment, you almost don’t want to look at your reflection in the mirror. It was strategically placed in the foyer by Seokjin, his scientific reasoning behind it being so he could start a positive day by looking at himself one last time before leaving the house. This logic seems like bullshit to you now. Your hair is a lion’s mane, your black bra visible against the translucent, chestnut coffee stain on your chest and your face is shiny from the amount of sweat you’ve had building up throughout the day from this sweltering heat.

Kicking off your heels, you take notice that Jungkook’s Pumas don’t take their usual occupancy on the shoe rack. This means he’s not home and this means, he wouldn’t be seeing you in this state. Relief floods over you.

Somewhere prior to the halfway point of Jungkook’s stay, your animosity for his presence seems to have expired ever so slightly. Perhaps it had to do with your newfound liking towards him from your late-night fantasies, or maybe it was because he had actually been putting more effort into working around the house as of late.

You barely see him now, and when you do, he’s usually made your food along with his own or he’s left you sticky notes telling you he’s taken out the garbage for you or cleaned the washroom. It has warmed your rigid heart but only to an extended degree.

Carding your fingers through your hair, you tame as much of it as you can before you’re unbuttoning your dress shirt and letting the air dry it out. Your bra feels slick against your skin, the mixture of coffee and sweat too unbearable. You unclip it from behind and toss it onto the bar stool by the kitchen island.

After opening the fridge for a can of iced tea, you walk over to the pantry for a snack to accompany the icy, perspiring drink. But before you can make it, you suddenly take notice of it, the twinkling mound of silverware against the sunlight seeping through the windowpane. You look down at the small pile of unwashed cutlery in the stainless steel sink, an inferno flickering in your chest.

The feeling crawls back, the feeling of wanting to reinforce your disapproval of him. It’s an emotional memory, screaming at you to go back to your familiar disdain, to a more comfortable habit. Or maybe it’s your horrible day, everything bad that’s happened leading up to this breakdown. You feel like an overly emotional pregnant lady, getting fired up over unwashed spoons and forks but you can’t push it down. You’re seeing red.

A click is heard from the bathroom down the hall, followed by the tune of a cheerful whistle. You wrap the open ends of your shirt around your chest, crossing your arms as you stand in the kitchen and await the figure’s emergence from the shadowy refuge of the hallway. Jungkook now appears at the mouth of the hall, one arm rubbing a small towel against his wet hair and the other clutching the towel hanging off his hips. Upon seeing you, his whistle abruptly drops.

“Hey,” he begins nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be home—”

The words come out of you like rapid-fire, all “good deeds” he’s ever done as a roommate escaping through the vents. “You…” You begin, and he winces. “Do you see this?” You point to the sink. “How fucking hard is it to wash your own forks and spoons? Fuck, I’m so tired of picking up after you!”

You’re really unable to stop yourself, weeks of pent-up frustrations just now unleashing, lashing against the boy with such vigor, you can see a gulp send his Adam's apple to a bob. “For the record, if you’re going to smoke, do it the absolute farthest away from the apartment- I cannot stand the scent of fake strawberries and watermelon anymore.” Your arm motions towards the hallway, your foot stomping with it. Jungkook’s gaze very briefly strays to your shirt that unravels, just barely covering your breasts. Were you not wearing a bra?

“For every shower you take after the initial one, you have to set aside two dollars extra towards the water bill and for the love of all things holy, please start eating dinner at a reasonable time- you make it impossible to like you when I’m forced to wake up at two in the morning almost every single night.” With one push off the counter, you’re off towards the hallway to your bedroom, the heat of Jungkook’s stare burning into the back of your skull as you pass by him.

Jungkook sighs.

“I try, you know.” His quiet words halt you in your steps. “I knew you never liked me but I never knew why...that much was always a mystery. It never stopped me from trying to be the best damn roommate you’re ever going to have.” You twist around, taking in his stance. Now his arms are crossed, the towel once on his head now draped over his arm. “And yet you still hate me.”

You’re disarmed, mouth suddenly dry as you take in his words. Jungkook continues. “I...I just don’t get it- and I have to admit it’s a little disheartening,” He takes an idle step forward. “I don’t know what to expect from you- one moment you’re scolding me and the next…” His eyes trail to the exposed delve between your breasts, carefully covered underneath your unbuttoned shirt. You coil into yourself, wrapping your shirt over your chest again as you shift your gaze to the marks of ink blossomed over his skin. “And the next you’re staring at me.” Steadily dragging his gaze back up towards your eyes, he smirks and speaks again. “Kind of like you’re staring right now.”

If there’s one thing you hate the most, it’s being called out. Your pride is wounded and you rise to the challenge, huffing a bemused breath. You shoot back with faux scorn. “I’m only staring because you’re practically naked in front of me. Have you no decency in the presence of a woman?” This makes Jungkook cock an eyebrow, and he finds himself closing more distance between the two of you.

He laughs, mirthless but nonetheless amused by your rebuke. “Usually in the presence of a woman like you, decency is the last thing on my mind.” Leisurely, you’re losing each other in one another’s gaze.

You scoff. “Like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play coy, you and I both know you’re not near as good as you think you are.”

This statement catches you off guard, wholeheartedly. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes flicker between the towel that’s barely clinging around his waist to his eyes that have seemingly darkened, ablaze with something akin to salacity. Jungkook licks his lips, the length of his damp hair sending a tiny trickle of water down the side of his face. “And that doesn’t even count all the weird shit I’ve heard in this house.” Now you’re the one gulping, frozen in place as he takes another step closer. “You moan in your sleep, you moan when you touch yourself at night...” Your eyes widen in horror, he had heard you that night and possibly every night after that.

“I’ll never forget what your friend said on the phone, you know. With lips like that…you make it impossible to forget anything about you.”

Shit.

He’s gotten closer, much closer. With anyone else, the lack of distance between you would be nothing short of uncomfortable and unwanted, but you find yourself pulled towards him. The closing of the gap between you is mutual, and before you have a chance to shoot back a reply, his lips are hovering above yours. “Pretty lips that make pretty noises.” And then, his mouth is on yours.

Your knees nearly give out.

Before anything else, you’re filled with shock, an invasive shock. How could he be doing this?

He… He’s…he’s actually a pretty good kisser. You’re swept away, his arms cocooning around you. His lips pillow against your own, his tongue the taste of mint.

Jungkook is damp from his shower, his skin slick and cool under your touch as you slide your arms around his neck. This motion beckons you closer, pushing your lips harder against his. He walks you backwards and you follow suit, mouths remaining on one another as your back hits the wall right next to your bedroom door. There is absolutely no turning back now.

His hands are sliding down your body, feeling every curve of your body underneath his palms as he squeezes and kneads until he’s reached your ass. You moan into his mouth when he grabs handfuls of your bottom, a calculated grip that he uses to push your pelvic bone against his growing erection. This invites his tongue into your parted mouth, taking in the taste of yours into his own. They cushion around each other, a synchronous valse that only grows the moisture in between your legs. You feel his want for you build against your stomach, the thickness that lays just beyond his towel.

Jungkook’s teeth find the plump of your bottom lip, a gentle gnaw at the flesh before he’s tugging at it. The whimper you let out only elicits a growl to emit from his chest, the hands on your ass now sliding up your sides until they’re cupping your face. It’s then that his clear want for you becomes evident, a taut prominence poking against your stomach.

“M’Jungkook…” You whimper into his mouth, his right hand moving from your cheek to the base of your neck. You gasp as his palm pushes against your sternum, the fingers wrapped around your neck tightening in the slightest as you’re pushed farther against up against the wall. Jungkook hums in response, his lips relentless against your own.

His mouth works in precise vigour against your own. It’s as if he has been starved of this moment for too long, days, weeks of holding himself back. You can’t stop yourself either, not quite being able to comprehend the happenings of this exact moment. Nights of pleasuring yourself to the thought of your roommate and here you two are, your cunt seemingly progressing into an ocean of slick and his cock ready to be smothered in it.

Jungkook pulls away, and when you get a chance to look at him, his cheeks are powdered in a shade of rose, his lips marginally swollen from your heated kissing and his eyes ablaze with a craving you can’t even describe. “Not so smart with that mouth now, are you?”

You swallow thickly, words failing you. Your eyes glance towards the roses stoic on his neck. Oh, how you’d like to lick over them. The situation is beyond words, and you reckon if it hadn’t been, that actions still would fare far better than words.

Jungkook drops to his knees in front of you and fiercely grabs your hips. You inhale sharply, head dropping as your fingers instinctively grasp for purchase against his impossibly broad shoulders. They’re marked with feathers that lead down his biceps in the shape of wings. You can’t help but dig in, your nails leaving thin red crescents slashing across the ink as your back rests against the wall.

“You think you can get away moaning my name every night?” He groans, alternating between breaths and kisses around your pelvis, slowly moving past your navel. His fingers hook around the belt loops in your pants, his free hand eagerly tugging down your zipper. With precision, he pulls your pants down until you’re clad in only your underwear. Thank God, you chose today of all days to wear a thong. The baby pink silk, smooth underneath his fingertips. Jungkook looks up at you wishfully, his doe eyes radiating a boyish innocence that contradicts the ink littering his skin. But then he speaks, his voice a soft growl.

“I hope you taste as delicious as you look,” he says, not doubting for a second that you won’t as he bites the elastic of your thong. You are breathless; it’s hard not to be when Eros himself is between your legs, yearning for a taste of your dripping sex.

Your breath catches in your throat, Jungkook’s thumb skimming down your pubic bone to where you want, need it the most. You shiver as he circles against your clit through the cloth, a purposeful pressure that has you tightening your grip on his shoulders. He can feel the moisture against the fabric, your arousal clinging against the material.

“I didn’t even have to touch you and you’re already this wet for me, baby?” He licks his lips, fingers running up and down your thighs. The nickname baby stays with you, lingers and only soaks you further. You roll your head back against the wall, letting his fleeting fingers latch around the band of your thong before you feel them being tugged down your legs.

It’s almost instinctive for you to want to cross your leg over the other, to keep Jungkook from seeing you so bare and needy for him. But of course, Jungkook doesn’t let this happen. He kisses your right hip bone before tracing a bold lick diagonally down to your pelvis. Your fingers rub against his shoulders, one hand gliding up the back of his head to comb through the mass of his damp dark curls.

Jungkook hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, letting the balm of your foot rest against the delve of his back as he spreads you above him. A broad hand pushes your hip back against the wall, the one leg you’re balanced on steady underneath his aiding grip. He uses his free hand to run his second and third digit up and down your wet folds. You shiver.

He looks up at you once more. This time, a lopsided smug grin adorns his face as he beams you a set of perfect teeth, the familiar indents of his dimples marking against his lower cheeks. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” You’re moaning in response to this, leg wavering as you feel the slide of Jungkook’s forefinger push into you. He hums in appreciation, your tightness inviting the chafe of his finger. He places a chaste kiss just above your pubic bone as he begins a slow rhythmic pump of his finger.

“Fuck,” you breath out, the ridges of his calloused digit filling you far greater than your own ever has. You can’t even begin to imagine how his dick will feel, your fingers laced into his hair tightening their hold as well.

It’s when you feel the point of Jungkook’s deft tongue stroke against your clit that you cry out, his hand gripping your hip harder against the wall as he feels you waver above him. Your eyes flutter to a close, letting him have his way with you against his tongue. He uses it mercilessly, flicks pointed and dexterous against your clit as his finger pushes in and out of your tight heat. “Oh my god, Jungkook.” He inserts another finger and you nearly lose yourself.

Your eyes are rolled back, your hips involuntarily jerking away from Jungkook’s grip as they push forward in search of more of his mouth. You feel it bubbling inside you, each stroke of his fingers and each swirl of his tongue making it impossible for you to focus on anything else but this feeling. He laps around your clit, strict and continuous. When you open your eyes to look down, you see his gorgeous hair enveloped in the thread of your fingers. You’ve never been eaten out against a wall like this and it only adds more to your impending undoing.

Jungkook’s digits move quicker now, with each pump comes a curl that elicits the neediest of whimpers to fall past your lips. He feels his cock twitch with every sound you make, a melodic hymn to his ears. He alternates between sharp flicks and taking the whole of your clit with his mouth in a gentle siphon. This time there is no barrier of a wall between the two of you, this time he can hear you as vividly as he hears the tits chirp outside his window every morning and this time, you are not using a vibrator on yourself, he’s fucking you with his tongue.

He can feel you tightening against his fingers, your walls clenching unimaginably tight around him with every stroke. You are close, so very close and the feel of his relentless tongue lapping around your clit along with his slender fingers has you seeing nothing but the ceiling above you. Jungkook picks up the pace of his tongue as well, his head moving in vigour as he fervently pushes the wet muscle against your bead.

He senses it coming before you do, his tongue and fingers in a violent rhythm. You jerk above him, your hold on his hair impossibly tight as you let yourself go, crying out his name from your orgasm. He feels your squirt spray out of you, it coats his mouth and chin, sprinkling even to his chest as you shake above him. Jungkook does not stop, digits pumping even faster, tongue continuing their assault.

You chant his name as you writhe underneath his grasp. The sensation becomes too much within seconds of your orgasm but somehow his persistence makes it feel as if you can come all over again.

“J-jungkook p-please,” you beg, your fingers unraveling from his hair and tightening onto his shoulders as you try to push him away. He follows suit, unlatching his mouth from your heat before languidly rising to his feet.

When you look at him, his lips are swollen and painted in your clear arousal, your squirt coating down the cleft of his chin, streaming his neck and sprinkled across his chest. It matches his damp hair, uniform with the wetness of his previous shower.

“You...just...squirted. All over me.” You can’t quite tell if this statement holds aversion at first. Truth be told, you’ve never squirted from a man’s tongue against you.

Jungkook steps closer. “Do you know how fucking hot that was?” You don’t know, but Jungkook is taking your hand into his and placing it over it his very hard bulge. You gasp at the feel underneath your palms, unyielding to your touch. It’s far greater of a bulge than you’ve ever felt before.

You smell yourself on him, a faint fragrance that you taste when Jungkook leans forward to kiss you with greed. His mouth his sticky, kisses lingering against your lips. When he pulls away, his fingers glide over the knot that holds his towel up. You watch him, eagerly as he pulls at the twist, letting the towel to fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

“Oh my god,” you catch yourself saying out loud.

Jungkook is big. Larger, thicker than you could have ever imagined. An erect serpentine that lays firmly in his hand as he takes the base of his cock in his palm, you can’t look away. You gulp, eyes flickering between his daunting length and his growing smirk. Your mouth suddenly feels parched, a tentative tongue poking through the seams of your lips to swipe over your lips. Something about him not using the towel to directly wipe off your squirt makes your stomach flip with somersaults, so aroused by the idea of him wearing your ograsm on him with pride.

Jungkook twirls his forefinger in the air. “Turn around,” he commands and you oblige, twisting your body as you lay the flat of your palms against the cool wall. Jungkook pulls at your hips, mumbling words of profanities as your ass grinds against his thick erection. He already feels so full against your heat.

Kicking your legs open and apart, his feet stand in between yours, making it impossible for you to close them. He places a kiss against your shoulder, your forehead rested flush to the wall as a tender hand kneads at the cheek of your ass. He spanks it once, the echo of both the slap and your yelp of surprise travelling down the hall.

Hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, his damp hair tickles your neck as he whispers. “Think you can take it, baby?”

“Y-yes.” Your answer is short and breathless, hips instinctively grinding against him for further proof of your want. This earns you another spank and Jungkook is taking the base of his cock in one hand, spreading your cheeks with his free hand as he lines up to your cunt.

He nudges past your folds with his head, speaking in a low growl. “Good girl. Now let’s hear you scream.” He pushes in.

The stretch of his tip pressing into you tingles with a sizzling burn, the pressure that follows has your fingers curling against the wall and an arm reaching back to grasp onto Jungkook’s hip.

He takes your offering hand, interlocking your fingers together as he pushes another inch into you before pulling back out. He lets you adjust, your mixed moans echoing throughout the hallway as he juts his head forward to fill you once again.

His girth pinches against your walls, deliciously so and Jungkook pauses every couple of moments to let you feel every inch fill you until he’s reached the hilt.

He lets your hand go and you bring it back to press against the wall in aid of holding you up. “That’s it, baby...take every inch of it.” His voice is low, husky, something so carnally divine in the clip of his syllables that it has you rolling your head back. “You’re doing so fucking good. Does it feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you say as you exhale shakily.

He rolls out of you, his name just on the edge of your tongue before he’s thrusting forward to have it spill out of your mouth. The velvet smooth feel of Jungkook’s cock mixing with your slick arousal makes the pinching sensation come to an ease. He’s swearing behind you, alternating between muttered profanities and guttural moans.

“So. Fucking. Tight. You feel so good, baby, taking me so well.” His fingers are firmly grasping onto your hips, his thrusts now beginning a steady rhythm as he steadily fucks you against the wall. Jungkook’s girth knocks the breath out of you, a full pressure that fills your tight cunt so satisfyingly, you almost lose yourself a second time within minutes from your first orgasm.

Jungkook is panting behind you, fingers surely leaving bruises against your skin as he speeds his hips to pound into you. He loosens his grip, three of his digits tracing a line down your spine before cutting around your waist and hovering above your clit. “Come again for me, baby. One more time, squirt for me.” It’s with these words that you decide, you don’t want to squirt on the floor once more, you want to squirt on him, on top of him.

“W-wait.” You reach your arm back, pressing the flat of your hand to his hip in a gesture to stop. He stills immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” The worry in his voice only causes you to release a breathless laugh, shaking your head no in reassurance.

“I want to ride you.” How could Jungkook ever say no to that? Without a beat of hesitance, he slides out of you, taking his cock in his hand before lightly tapping the head against each of your cheeks. Gripping your waist, he spins you to face him, a dimpled smile greeting you as you reach his gaze.

“Mm, is that so?” He asks and you nod, returning his smile. The dim glow of sunlight pouring into the hallway allows you to see the glowy sheen of his sweat and your arousal glimmer against his face and chest, enhancing his tattoos. The dampness of his curls have dried but a new layer of perspiration forms a film over his forehead.

You take Jungkook’s hand in yours, leaning forward to place a chase kiss on his lips before you’re leading him into your bedroom. You walk him backwards, your hands on his shoulders and his eyes focused nowhere but on yours. It’s when the back of his knees knock against the edge of your bed that he’s forced to have a seat.

He expects you to straddle him, you see it in the glimmer of his doe eyes but instead, you drop to your knees in front of him, arms separating his inked thighs apart. This takes Jungkook by surprise, he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raising in question.

You hands glide up and down his legs, a grin stretching across your face as you lean forward and place a gentle peck to the base of his thick cock. Jungkook hums in satisfaction, eyes holding a challenge as he watches you with great concentration.

The pink of his head looks all too inviting as you take his cock in your hands. As you do so, Jungkook’s hands roam up your arms before they’re resting on each of your shoulders. He benignly grips at the tense muscles of your shoulders, thumbs moving in circles over your skin. “You’re tense.” He vocalizes.

“You’re fucking huge.” You hit back, eyes wide and mouth salivating at the heaviness in your grasp. It’s tacky, coated in you as you swipe a thumb over the head and Jungkook hisses above you. When you look up at him, his dark eyes are speared to your movements, teeth gritted. You begin moving your hands up and down his length.

“You can take it in your mouth, can’t you?” The tone in his voice depicts a challenge and your ears nearly perk in interest. Of course you can take him in your mouth. You lean forward, Jungkook’s broad hands leaving the expanse of your shoulders to slide up the sides of your head. His fingers comb your hair back, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. The movement flexes the muscles on his inked biceps and you have to admit to yourself that he looks so fucking good.

Jungkook is all too eager as he watches you, the flat of your tongue sticking out to lick around the rim of his head. He chokes back a groan, grip on your hair tightening. You stretch your mouth as wide as you can, a discomfort to your movement as you engulf the whole of his head with your tongue. Jungkook inhales a sharp breath, fingers threaded into your hair as he eases you down to take more of him.

You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning a slow suction. “Fuck,” Jungkook mumbles from above you, shifting on the mattress, watching you. “Open wider, baby.” You do as asked, jaw already sore from the girth of his head alone. He pushes his hips off the mattress in the slightest, grip on your hair firm as he thrusts more of himself into your mouth.

You’re careful not to let your teeth graze over the skin of his cock, your fingers tightening around his length before you start to twist your wrists and continue sucking. Jungkook is careful to be gentle with you, very tenderly urging his cock to fill more of your mouth. It shocks you when you feel the blunt of his head hit the cap of your airway, eliciting a gag.

Jungkook pulls out a millimeter before he’s pushing back in, teeth gritted and eyes focused. Your mouth looks so pretty stuffed with his cock; it’s almost as pretty as your cunt taking him to the hilt.

Another gag rumbles out of you and vibrates against his member, this time, Jungkook being the one to moan. His hips stutter in shallow thrusts into your mouth and you feel the sting of tears threatening to blur your vision.

The sounds of your gagging bounces off the walls of your bedroom, followed by the guttural moans of Jungkook as he fucks your mouth. Each thrust of his hips causes the head of his cock to push past your airway.

You release your hold around his length, fingers thickly coated in your own saliva as you find purchase of the flesh of his thighs. You let him have his way with you, your mouth stretched as wide as you can physically make it and a single thread of a tear rolling down your cheek. You look up through the flutters of your eyelashes, pleased to see the Adam’s apple in Jungkook’s throat bob up and down while his head is thrown back in pleasure.

The sudden pull of his cock from your mouth comes with a light ‘pop’ followed by you gasping for air. Using his hold on your hair, he jerks your hair back so you’re forced to look up at him. He hungrily latches his lips onto yours, sloppy and wet with a relentless tongue that intrudes your mouth.

You slide your hands over his thighs, towards the ridges of muscles on his abdomen as he helps you rise to your feet. Your right palm travels up his chest, your other arm circling around Jungkook’s neck as you let him grab a handful of your ass. With a persuasive lift, he places you on his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso as his mouth remains on yours.

“M’let me ride m’you,” you gasp in between kisses, Jungkook’s toned arms looping around your waist as he shuffles closer to the edge of the mattress.

“Yeah?” He moves from your mouth to the edge of your jaw.

“Please.” Jungkook loosens his grip around your waist, letting you rest the front of your calves on either side of him. You situate yourself, raising your hips as your hand finds his still, very erect length to line against your core.

“Look at you so needy for my cock, don’t hate me so much anymore?” The smugness in his tone only grants him a glare from you, a chuckle following his tease. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in need of you too.” You have noticed, his massive cock hasn’t wavered in want in the slightest since he first kissed you.

You huff a breath. “I never hated you.” Rubbing his head a few times over your sex, you finally sink down onto it, your cunt eagerly taking in his head. You gasp at the feel of this new position, his length gliding in much smoother with your previous practice. “You just need to start washing your fucking dish- ah!” You cry out, hands fumbling to grasp at his shoulders as Jungkook juts his hips up, slamming into you. His girth stretches your walls once again and he feels so fucking delicious in you like this. Quite frankly, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to go back to an average sized penis ever again.

“Mm, I should keep pissing you off if it means I get to shut you up like this.” His voice hitches at the last word as you pick your hips up and ram yourself back down onto his cock. You both moan at this, your arms once again looping around Jungkook’s neck as his hands firmly grip your hips in guidance.

Your teeth clash as you kiss him with each bounce of your hips, the position more so letting you gently rock over his cock. Your clit rubs against his skin with each roll of your hips, making sure you alternate between circling your hips and bouncing on his cock. Jungkook is losing himself, you know this because he holds you tightly, firmly as he lets you take control. You ride him hard and slow, the pre crescendo to his coming end.

“Come for me, Jungkook,” You moan against the shell of his ear, legs losing stamina as you try to keep a rhythmic pace. But Jungkook doesn’t want to finish just yet, he wants you to come again too.

You yelp as he slides his hands under your ass, lifting you off him before he’s throwing you onto the mattress so you’re on your back. He stands up, above you at the edge of your bed, taking your knees in the crevice of his elbows before yanking you towards him.

“Where is it?” He gruffs, fingers gripping your waist.

“What?”

“Your vibrator, where is it?” If you weren’t flushed already from Jungkook’s cock, you’d be blushing at his knowledge that you even had one. You stretch your arm above you, fingers reaching underneath a pillow where you usually keep it hidden. Grasping the device in hand, you bring it out, idly waving it in front of the ink-skinned boy. He grins, the youthful boy-like glint returning in the doe of his eyes as he releases your leg from the arm that extends to retrieve it from you.

Inspecting the controls, he finds the power button, clicking it on. A low buzz fills the room. the words that follow leaving you breathless again.

“Ah...now there’s the noise I like to hear every night.” Clicking it back off, Jungkook places it carefully next you before hooking your leg back around his elbow, hoisting your hips up. You watch with eager eyes as he pokes his tongue past his lips, letting a string of saliva drizzle carefully over his cock. He smooths the slick over his cock, letting it coat the entirety of his length before he’s guiding his head against your opening.

He gently slaps his head against your clit before rubbing against it, letting your arousal build once more. You shift your hips in impatience, fingers gripping tightly against your sheets. Jungkook leans down towards your mouth, claiming your lips once more, hard and deep. He tastes of sweat and your arousal, a tinge of salt that you lick away. When he pulls away, he’s pushing his cock into you again.

The curve of his dick hits differently with this position, now he has more control with hitting just the right spots. He’s slow at first, frustrating slow as if he’s testing each stroke of his hips to see how you react. When he’s surging forward until he’s got an inch remaining, you’re crying out loud.

“Here?” He asks and you nod profusely, words unable to form on your tongue. Jungkook pushes even deeper, another cry escaping your lungs at the new fullness. Your grip around your sheets grow tighter, teeth harshly biting down on your lip as he begins steady rock in and out of you.

You’ve never been filled so well like this, his cock hitting every surface area of your inner walls as he stretches you delectably with each roll of his hips. He fucks into you, hard and deep, changing from circling his hips to pistoning into you with no mercy. He talks filth into the air, profanities and moans chased by the sounds of skin slapping as he relentlessly plummets into you.

He can feel you about to come, the pressure of your clenched walls tightening around him to un unprecedented degree. With each thrust, your cunt only eagerly invites him back in, needy for his spurts of cum. This is when Jungkook grabs the vibrator he placed beside you, thumb quick to power the device on. You yelp and mewl as he places the silicone tip against your clit, the vibration ringing through both of you. The sensation is overwhelming, the girth of his cock mixed with the jolts of your stimulated clit leave you near screaming his name. You shake underneath him, legs quivering as you feel the rise of your orgasm build through your entire body.

“You can squirt again, baby. I know you can. I know you want to.” Your body jerks and still as the combination of one more thrust and the vibe hit you exactly where you need it to, to come undone. Jungkook doesn’t fight it, the pressure of your squirt pushing his cock out of your tightness. “That’s it, darling, so fucking hot.” He keeps the vibrator on you and you whimper, releasing the clutch of the sheets as you flail your arms towards the vibrator in an attempt to push it away from you. Jungkook does not budge.

“P-please, fuck, Jungkook...it’s too much, please.” He does not stop, watching you with intent as your body shakes underneath his control of the vibrator. He knows you can come again.

“One more time.” Your legs are desperately trying to clamp shut but Jungkook expertly holds your legs apart with his torso as he continues assaulting your clit with the silicone. It buzzes against you, rings through your entire body and within minutes you’re coming all over again. It’s so intense, you nearly black out, your voice clamouring to a scream of Jungkook’s name.

He turns it off and throws it somewhere on the mattress before he’s sliding into you with ease. He fucks your squirt back into you with a push of his cock.

This time, Jungkook wastes no time. This time, he drills into you, clamping your legs together as he pushes them forward until your knees hit your chest. This position allows him to go deeper, watching your cunt swallow every inch of his cock with greed along with every thrust of his hips. He feels his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Each snap of his hips become sloppier, his laboured breathing sporadic as his fingers dig harshly into your calves.

“Where do you want me to come?” He rasps, pulling your legs apart once more.

“I-inside me, please.” Your words elicit a mumbled fuck from him followed by a groan. You watch him through lidded eyes, your head thick and heavy from your plentiful of orgasms. Jungkook looks like the God of sex himself above you, sweat dribbling down his forehead, his dark long waves spilling over his eyes, his inked chest glistening and his muscles flexing with every grind of his hips into you. He is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “Come, Jungkook,” you coo, egging him to come undone. “Come inside me.”

With the last phrase, his hips stutter and still before he’s gasping for a breath as he spills himself into you. He shouts your name, voice getting caught in his throat. He steadily moves again, milking every last drop of himself inside of you as your walls achingly aid him.

As he comes to a stop, the room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your mixed heavy panting. Jungkook leans forward, pressing a heavy kiss against your lips before he’s pulling away from your mouth and away from your cunt. He watches, mesmerized as his cum dribbles out of you. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, your tight cunt filled to the brim with his seed.

“Fuck,” he pants, reaching his arm out to help you sit up. You roll your head forward into your palms, the rush of dopamine pounding into your skull with a massive headache. “You okay?” He asks and you nod your head, face still encompassed by your hands.

“You...should piss me off more often.” Jungkook chuckles at this. When you look up from your hands, his wavy locks have a newfound dampness, beads of sweat encompassing his tattooed chest. He’s grinning, a lopsided grin that leaves you with a warm feeling pounding in your chest.

Jungkook offers you a hand, guiding you off the bed. You take it, letting him pick you up to your feet with the strength of his biceps.

“Yeah, yeah I should.” You’re both walking out your bedroom and towards the shower.

Seokjin wears nothing but a grimace at the kitchen island as he watches you and Jungkook coo at each other. He’s just returned from his trip abroad, hands crossed over his chest as he observes the blasphemy before his eyes. Jungkook is by the stove, flipping the last of Seokjin’s steak and you’re beside him preparing a salad on the counter.

“Disgusting.” Seokjin scowls. “I leave for three months and this happens?” He scoffs at the thought of the two of you cooking him steak for dinner, as if it would break the bearer of this terrible, awful news. You two are now dating. His best friend and his roommate- to Seokjin, it’s an ultimate betrayal.

You sigh and roll your eyes, setting your freshly made salad in front of him as Jungkook brings over a sizzling pan of steak. He wears a grin on his face, a grin that matches yours before you’re leaning on your tiptoes to kiss against the indented dimple against his lower cheek. Seokjin nearly gags at this.

He truly thought he’d be rid of you as soon as this lease had ended but here you were, snogging who he thought to be his best friend. He thinks he’ll have to burn his mattress too.

“Great,” he says, deadpan, picking up his knife and fork. “I’m stuck with you forever now.” With the greatest of fake enthusiasm, he musters a disingenuous smile and angrily digs into his steak.

He hates that it’s delicious.

a/n: HEWWOOOO. how u feeling!? 🥴i REALLY!!! did not expect this fic to be so long holy shit im so sorry, i went out of control!!!! this was very loosely based off real-life events that were then fuelled by jungkook’s lotte concert look. and badda bing, badda boom, a 13k fic of pure smut is born and i am wholly unashamed of myself. i really hope you enjoyed reading this filth, it was very fun for me to write!!! please let me know what you think and as always, thank you for reading and i love youuuu 💞

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #armiesnet #bangtanarmynet #ggukienet #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan smut #btssmutclub #networkbangtan #bts x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts #oneshot #fic #kpop

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theglowyscorpio · 3 years

Text

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

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mylittlepartofthegalaxy · 3 years

Text

How Henry Cavill and Chris Evans would treat their girl on her birthday- a head canon

Whew! I am BACK! A lot of things have happened this week and it has been CRAZY! First of all, your girl is 32! Whoo!

Second, we all saw the pics that broke the internet’s heart. Our Henners has a girlfriend. While I love Henry with most of my heart ( my husband would be suspicious if I had my whole heart invested in a guy I never met), I am super happy that he has found a love and happiness in Natalie. I will NOT accept bashing of his girl on my dash or in my inbox, so if you have some harbored resentment against the girl, you know where to find the unfollow button.

Third, I have discovered a love for Chris Evans. I will be starting to write for him I have not seen everything that he has been in so I cannot accurately write all his characters, yet. I’m working on it.

Fourth, I will still write RPF for Henry. It is in no way a shot at him or his girlfriend. If this makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you choose not to read/like/reblog my fiction about Henry. I AM open to exploring more of his characters in my writing so let me know if you want to see more of that! I AM working currently on a Ransom Drysdale/August Walker crossover fic with the support of @lunedelorient. I hope to have it finished and up next month after I finish my semester.

Without further adieu, here is the tag list: @lunedelorient, @iloveyouyen, @mary-ann84, @henrythickcavill, @summersong69, @wickedrum, @seb-owns-these-tatas, @agniavateira, @madbaddic7ed ( if you would like to be addded or removed, please let me know!

How Henry would treat his girl on her birthday

* He would definitely not work that day, not even a workout. He’s making your day all about you

* After he wakes you up, he would treat you to breakfast out.

* Shopping. All the shopping. He would buy you whatever you wanted and some things that he thought you needed/would like.

*A relaxing lunch, maybe a picnic in a park. Charcuterie boards, wine, macarons.

* Relaxing walkies with Kal. Strolls through the parks. He would buy or pick you flowers.

* Once you were back home, he would immediately send you up to the bath where he would draw you a bubble bath complete with soft music and your favorite candles.

* Two words: Private. Massage. He definitely booked a spa staff to come to your house and pamper you.

*He would buy you a dress. He has it all laid out. Dress, shoes, jewelry, He even booked a makeup artist and hairdresser. He knows you prefer to do your own, even when you accompany him to award shows and premieres but again, this is your day and he wants to spoil you in every way.

*He’s also booked your favorite restaurant for the night for just you two. The staff sneak you in to avoid the paps.

* What can I say? Its candlelight, wine, Italian food, and a very dapper Henry. He even indulges in dessert, sharing tiramisu with you.

*Back home and dressed for sleep, Henry has put the silk sheets on the bed. He doesn’t expect sex. He just wants to live in this moment with you and do what you want.

*You, of course, want him. He has spent the whole day spoiling you and you want to make part of your day about the both of you. It’s slow and sensual and loving and sweet. He takes his time, working your body to climax only the way he can. He makes sure you cum at least twice before he finishes.

*ALL THE SOFT AFTERCARE. After cleanup and restroom breaks, he’s all soft whispers and caresses and touches and sweet pecks.

*”Happy birthday, my love.” He would whisper in his sleepy voice. One last kiss and you both drift off to sleep wrapped around each other.

How Chris would treat his girl on her birthday

* Chris is always down for a party.

* He would invite some of his siblings, your siblings (if you have any), mutual friends, and might even fly in a friend or two from your hometown/country

* Low key and casual is the name of the game. If its a fall or winter birthday, Chris is, with help (not from you), making Italian. A spring or summer birthday practically calls for a cookout. There is beer, wine, liquor, tea, water, and other beverages. Chris is a gracious host.

* He gets a cake/desserts from your favorite bakery

* It’s all a surprise. He somehow manages to keep it to himself. He’s a terrible liar and somehow you missed all his tells. He hated every minute of it.

*The party is FUN. Everyone has a great time. You don’t even mind cleaning up the mess afterwards. It’s worth it to see everyone you love on your special day.

*Chris, being Chris (and with a few beers in him), manages to make the clean up process fun. He hinders you a bit as you pick up trash from around the house. He’s got a grip on your hips as you walk, causing your bottom to press against him every time you bend down.

* “Chris, this will go faster if you let go.”

* “Gotta show you part of your present from me, bug.”

* You both FINALLY get the house looking presentable and Chris and you collapse onto the couch.

* His present? (Besides the one in his pants): a collection of poems that reminded him of you, some he wrote and some he has read.

*Of course, he spoils you in the bedroom. It’s all about you and your pleasure tonight. He has you in every way which way he can, all the ways he knows he drives you crazy. It’s very loving and sweet with a little bit of edge. He’s constantly praising you while simultaneously talking dirty. “You’re so beautiful, doll.” “Look at you, all fucked out from my cock.” “Come on baby, you got one more for me. I can feel it. I’m so close, more.” The longer you go, the heavier his accent gets.

* By the time he finishes, you are SPENT. You are nothing but bliss, jelly legs, and absolutely breathless. Chris peppers your face and neck with kisses, unable to move himself.

* You both lay there, still connected, until you start to really feel his body weight. You try and get him off you but he mistakes it for another round. “You’re trying to kill me, woman.” “Chris, you’re crushing my ribs.”

* He has to clean you both up and help you to the bathroom.

*After he’s finished cleaning up, he wraps himself around you, holding you close. Naked spooning is his favorite. He talks you to sleep by telling you all the things he loves about you, one reason for each year you have been alive.

*He wakes before you the next morning and orders a huge breakfast with all your favorites. After last night, you are both ravenously hungry and he figures that if he can fuel you up, ya’ll can get a few more rounds in before you have to go to his mom’s for the birthday lunch she insisted on throwing you.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader

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tiedisms · 4 years

Text

◟ * hello and welcome to tiedisms : my brand new baby , which will hopefully help you out when you’re plotting , putting together a connections page for ur muse , etc ! while i’ll mostly be reblogging gifsets & other inspo - posts , i wanted to kick things off with a connection masterlist --------- under the cut you’ll find some possible connections + some promts to get you going , as well as examples of specific connections i’ve written for my wanted pages . i’d appreciate any likes and reblogs if you find this helpful at all !!

◟ * platonic .

childhood friends : did they grow up on the same street ? perhaps they could look into each other’s rooms through their windows ? muse a knows how muse b got that awful scar above their knee & muse b knows the details of muse a’s first kiss . people who’ve known each other their entire lives often work in synch , tend to think they know what’s best for the other , too . have they managed to stay friends through the years ? did they grow apart after high school or maybe get into a huge fight ? so many possibilies !

this said , friends who’ve grown apart : losing a friend can cause just as much heartache as a break up ! did life get in the way or did something cause a strain on the relationship ? did one person have to exit the situation because the friendship was becoming more and more toxic ? have they been asking mutual friends about the other or did they cut ties entirely ?

roommates . did they want to move in together or did they respond to the same craigslist add ? did they move in at the same time or did one of them come around later , new girl style ? do they get along or do they butt heads at every corner ? who cooks and who does the dishes ? who’s always way too loud and who complains about the noise ?

best friend’s sibling / sibling’s best friend . extended family of sorts , have always remained at the sidelines of each other’s lives . do they seem to take on sibling roles around one another , too ? or are they pretending to get along for their friend’s sake ?

shared ex . listen to fiona apple’s ‘ newspaper ‘ ! you can read this plot , as i’ve written it for my own connections page , down below .

good / bad influence . people’s lifestyles rub off on each other ! is one actively trying to change the other or is it simply a side - effect of them spending so much time together ? does the bad influence ever feel wrong for taking the other down a dark path ? does the good influence ever worry the other is far beyond saving ?

◟ * romantic .

friends to lovers : perhaps my favorite trope of all time ! look back at that childhood friends connection & now add years of unspoken feelings . how long have they been in love with each other ? who fell in love first ? are they even aware of their feelings ? growing in love instead of falling ! what would their families and other friends think ? are there already rumors and jokes about them being together ? is one of them currently in a relationship or getting over an ex ? do they find it hard to commit to other people , unaware that they’re always going to put each other first ? // alternatively : friends to lovers but after it’s crashed and burned , hate each other for how things ended between them , but still feel so much love for each other because they were always friends first .

casual exes : the type that ended on good terms , are maybe still friends , too . why did they break up and how did they manage to do so amicably ? i heard somewhere that if you’re still friends after a break up u either never were in love or are still in love --- is that the case for them ? do they find it easy to laugh about their time together or is there still some awkwardness there ?

unrequited crush . let your muses have innocent crushes ! we all fall in love with the idea of a person sometimes . does the person they have a crush on use that to boost their ego ? or are they constantly trying to distance themselves ? does your muse want to make a move or are they content admiring from afar ? what do they like about this person ?

sexual tension . the air is heavy between them & there’s clearly something there that they haven’t acted upon yet . why ? is it because they want to be mindful of other people ? because they don’t like each other much ? because they’re good friends and don’t want to ruin that ? have they acted upon their feelings before but promised to never do that again ?

◟ * examples .

* you don't ever have to be stronger than you really are . ——— in which . . . whenever tears pool in the corners of doe eyes , the other is there to stop them from flooding the room . the purest love x's ever known , a guardian angel , a hand to hold when things get tough .

* we were cursed the moment that he kissed us . ——— in which . . . a shared love for someone who can't show affection kindly brought the two closer than anything else ever could , the overlapping memories of a past lover binding them forever .

* it's a bad time for a good time . ——— in which . . . nothing stings like rejection does , pride often stronger than unfulfilled desires . now , they spit venom whenever they try to lure them back underneath their sheets .

* pour a little salt , we were never here ——— in which . . . love lingers just underneath the surface , heard in every word they say , but never confessed . doomed from the start , both nearly choke when calling each other just friends .

* you can count on me to misbehave ——— in which . . . just kids playing games , felt young whenever she was around them until a drunken night changed the way they saw each other , newfound tension bringing nothing but chaos .

* in my head , i do everything right ——— in which . . . heart full of love , but hands empty ; x was careless with their feelings , ran away the first time they had a fight , fell right back into someone else's arms .

* fuck and make up like it's maybelline , ——— in which . . . tangled up in each other's sheets almost every day , can never truly say goodbye despite their constant fights ; anger fuels lust , the roughness of it all only makes it more exciting for a girl dying to feel anything .

* don't blame the drunk caller , ——— in which . . . late nights have never been kind to x & there's a number they never removed from their speed dial . both swear the love has gone cold , but x still calls and they always pick up .

* baby , i was born tired , ——— in which . . . end hard days tangled in each other's arms on the couch , smoke filling the air , no pressure in a safe space . a platonic soulmate , someone to cling to when you need it most .

* must try harder than kissing all of my friends , ——— in which . . . nothing stings like rejection when you're used to people crawling at your feet , x has weaved her way into the lives and beds of people around them , as if to prove a point , begging for attention .

#rph #rpt #. . . . .what other tags do people use #please dont let me flop

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gorogorogorochansan · 3 years

Photo

CP2077 OC ask game *:･ﾟ✧⚔️🤖🔮 [x]

PERSONAL.

1. what is their full name? do they have any nicknames? what are they and why did they get them? His full name is Maximilian Noirceuil Roquentin Vandermeer. Vandermeer to others, Max to his family. His mother just loves French literature and culture.

2. how old are they? how long have they been living on their own? 33 as of 2077. He’s been living on his own for 15 years since he joined Arasaka.

3. what are their astrology signs? sun/moon/rising. He was born on May 2nd 2044, which makes him a sun Taurus, moon Cancer and ascendant Leo.

4. what tarot card from the major arcana would you associate with them? The Devil.

5. are they religious or spiritual in any way? Not at all. Max is rather materialistic and self-indulgent at times.

6. which of the four elements would you associate with them? Air for intellect and mental intention.

9. which of the nine alignments are they? (lawful good etc) Lawful neutral.

10. which of the myers-briggs personality types are they? ESTJ, the Executive.

11. do they have any cyberware? is it cosmetic or is it weaponry/armor? He’s not into combat much, he prefers doing his job quietly if he can. Better yet - a silver tongue coupled with unsettling look can achieve a lot more than a weapon. Hands: Smart Link; Ocular system: Kiroshi Optics; Nervous system: Kerenzikov; Cyberdeck: Stephenson Tech Mk.2; Integumentary system: Optical Camo; Skeleton: Endoskeleton, Bionic Lungs; Legs: Lynx Paws.

12. what is their occupation? He likes to call himself a free artist but technically he’s a solo. Murder, sabotage, thievery, recovery, delivery - you name it and he’ll do it, quick & clean. A man of high standards he prefers to be silent, precise and effective about his work. Even during his Arasaka days he never shied away from hard or morally repulsive (to some) tasks. A job is a job and needs to be done.

13. if you were to choose a class for them, what would it be? The closest would probably be a Stealth Solo.

14. what is their weapon of choice? HJKE-11 Yukimura pistols & Electric Baton.

15. what is their preferred vehicle or transportation of choice? Black Quadra Turbo-R V-Tech.

16. how would you describe their style? Neomilitarism. Corpo chic through and through.

17. are they a early riser or a night owl? Normally he’s an early riser but not averse to adapt if work demands it.

18. share three songs you associate with them. Eisbrecher - Verrückt [translation] Dorothy - Wicked Ones Oomph! - Augen auf! [translation]

NIGHT CITY.

19. is your character from night city? if no, where were they born? what brought them to night city? if yes, what area of the city did they grow up? He is from Charter Hill, Night City. His maternal family is from North Oak but his parents moved to something more affordable before he was born. He worked his ass off to stay in Charter Hill on his own but after his boss Jenkins lost the power struggle in Arasaka, Vandermeer had to survive and look for a cheaper place.

20. where do they currently live? describe their home. Watson, Little China, near Sutter Street. He rents a small apartment that satisfies his needs, which turned out to be rather simple - a quiet (as much as possible), clean and efficient space that is suitable for living and working in.

21. do they have any favorite spots around NC? Lele Park in the evening and night. And Dark Matter club.

22. do they like to cook for themselves, or eat out? do they prefer restaurants or street food? and how do they feel about vending machine food? He can cook a few things thanks to his mom but generally prefers street food and restaurants. He finds vending machines repulsive.

23. do they prefer the city or the badlands? The city. He loves comfort, hygiene and availability of things only megalopolis can offer.

24. what gang/faction/corporation do they align with, if any? He prefers to keep balance and mutually beneficial relationships with everyone strictly for business. He always looks for people reasonable enough to bargain with.

25. which radio station(s) is their favorite? If it’s a car radio then it’s Vexelstrom most of the times. He likes hearing heavy rhythms in the background. When it comes to listening to music at home he has a variety of genres in his playlists from classics and jazz to heavy metal.

26. if they do merc work, do they have one dedicated fixer? if so, who? It’s Rachel Vogelman (another OC created by @bnbc). They used to be corporate rivals during their Arasaka days. To add fuel to the fire their colleagues believed them to be siblings because of certain visual similarities between the two. When Max lost his job Rachel was the only person he could ask for help. It wasn’t easy, and it still isn’t but they focus on the business side of things. Or at least try to.

27. have they ever had run ins with the badges? He doesn’t like to attract unnecessary attention. Nobody likes when you’re the star of TV news.

28. are they quick to help a stranger in need or do they prefer to stay out of other peoples business? He most likely won’t help unless it can benefit him in any way.

29. do they have any favorite celebrities that frequent or live in NC? how would they feel meeting them? He doesn’t give a shit about celebrities. But he knows Michiko Arasaka, and their first meeting face to face left him baffled to say the least.

RELATIONSHIPS.

30. is your friend a social butterfly or more of a loner? Something in between. He hates useless small talks and fake politeness but understands their necessity when required.

31. who are their closest chooms in NC? He doesn’t have any. Never cared enough to rely on people and always expected a knife in the back. His most regular stable contact is probably Rachel Vogelman but they’re not even close to being chooms.

32. do they have anyone they would consider family? His mom and his sister are the only family he needs.

33. what is/was their relationship like with their parents? He loves his mother Jessica who raised him to be a well-rounded personality that can always land on his feet. She’s an economist with a good sense of humor and interest in arts. But he doesn’t have much emotional connection with his father Mark, since the guy is always busy with his retail business.

34. do they have siblings? He has a sister named Brit who is 15 years younger.

35. how would you describe their relationship with their family? Max is close with his family, although they’re all often too busy to meet regularly but they keep in touch.

36. who is their biggest enemy? Detective Marc Sanderson? Hard to say for now because there’s no official lore information on him yet.

37. tell a short story about your character with their best choom. His rivalry with Rachel Vogelman was almost comic at times, which only worked against them as their colleagues called them siblings on purpose. But since the two have mutually beneficial relationships now he can admit Rachel is pretty good at what she does. He won’t tell it to her though to avoid giving her the pleasure. They have both grown up after losing their corporate jobs but some habits die hard.

38. do they have a love interest? if so, who? His current LI is Michiko Arasaka. Initially he'd met her as Ichigo (a Japanese name that means strawberry) in a cyber sex VR club while he still worked in Arasaka. It was a series of encounters they both enjoyed until he abruptly put an end to it during his unemployment. He suspects she started digging info on him because she reached out to him some time after he had made a small name for himself as a solo.

39. are they in a committed relationship or do they date around? Given the social gap between the two and solely sexual nature of their affair it’s implied they’re in open relationship. Besides it’s unknown if Michiko is still married. However, despite loving sex Max can be picky because he’s slightly fixated on hygiene. Michiko also sparked genuine curiosity and creativity in him with her wild and magnetic personality.

40. has your character ever been in love? if so, with who? No, what is love? He won’t recognize it even if falls in it.

41. do they believe in soulmates? No, he believes in shared goals.

42. do they believe in love at first sight? A ridiculous notion.

43. describe their ideal date. Their idea of romantic evening is to hook up in clubs where it’s noisy and crowded enough to ignore them but also to tickle their nerves. Sometimes they have a follow-up in motels (Michiko knows all the right places) if they can afford it. I don’t mean financially of course. Currently such state of affairs suits both of them perfectly.

44. would your character ever get married? Theoretically he can but marriage is a serious commitment, and right now he’s not interested in making one. And when it comes to Michiko it’s a no-no for a variety of obvious reasons.

45. what was your characters first impression of their partner(s)? Michiko Arasaka was not someone he expected to see when Ichigo asked for a real life meeting. She definitely enjoyed the effect she made while Max was trying to figure out in his mind if this was a setup. She was bold, straightforward and irresistable - not like anyone he has ever met before. The whole situation felt like getting into a sports car without breaks. Once in a lifetime opportunity, a one-way ticket. And he took it. He suspects he’s not the first and not the last such input for her but life is too short for missing out the fun.

46. are they open about their relationship or low key? how would other people feel about them together? Somewhat semi-open. Max’s mom knows and she’s worried for him, although she knows he can take care of himself. And Michiko doesn’t mind him telling about her to his family as he has no friends and isn’t the type to brag, and she doesn’t care if anyone recognizes her in public. Her social circle wouldn’t care about him, and those who might won’t be able to do a thing about it.

47. share a headcanon about your character and their partner(s). Just one? I’ve already got plenty. • Michiko calls him Max and he calls her Ichigo or Ichi (one) because that’s how they’ve met and it's something of their inside joke, a secret; • Michiko keeps him at distance on purpose. She studied his profile long before they’ve met face to face and probably knows what he wants for breakfast before he even wakes up. So she knows Max has opportunistic tendencies like majority of mid-tier corpos. But another reason is that she also doesn’t want things to get serious and complicated between them because it can ruin the fun. She appreciates he doesn’t ask stupid questions or demands more attention than she can give him; • Michiko likes to подъебывать Max. I guess the closest English equivalent would be to tease - cracking suggestive jokes on him, giving him simple presents she finds hilarious, sending him nudes and demanding payment with his in the most inappropriate times. She is amused Max tolerates her shit so stoically - but she’s never malicious, disrespectful or obnoxious. In return Max knows it’s hard to impress someone who comes from the Arasaka bloodline & that it would be safer not to get on their bad side, so he focuses on making her feel good. And strangely it makes him feel good too. • Max loves to touch her hair. Michiko always looks flawless when they meet and he adores her for it. • When Arasaka Tower was under attack Max called her until she finally picked up as he was genuinely concerned about her safety. He asked if she was alright and offered to take her home but she refused. She doesn’t know he was waiting outside.

48. share three songs you associate with your character and their partner(s). Garbage - Bad Boyfriend Eisbrecher - Exzess Express [translation] Eisbrecher - Rot wie die Liebe [translation] Bonus: Dinah Washington - Relax, Max - a song Michiko likes to tease him with.

NSFW.

49. name three of your characters biggest turn ons. Mature, confident women who know what they want and don’t waste anyone’s time.

50. name three of your characters biggest kinks. Touching Michiko in public - it’s the kink of kinks.

51. do they like having multiple partners or do they prefer monogamy? He doesn’t like being in relationships. The secret to his successful affair with Michiko is that both are totally free of any commitments and expectations from each other. Normally he prefers flings, BDs and cyber sex. But currently his mind is occupied with one specific woman with blue hair.

52. do they watch porn or braindances? Porn is ancient, BDs are far more superior.

53. would your character ever make an explicit braindance? He doesn’t have the right implant for that. He might though but not with Michiko - he’s not that stupid.

54. do they have any cybernetic enhancements that serve sexual purposes? He’s no netrunner but he got himself a Stephenson cyberdeck that supposedly prolongs orgasms. Turns out the cyberdeck can be useful for other things as well, even moreso as now he doesn’t have a corpo protection and needs to be more careful.

55. do they have a preference for ‘ganic bodies or do they like modifications? He doesn’t like cheap implants. Other than that he doesn’t care.

56. name three of your characters biggest turn offs. Poor hygiene, naivete and girls who don’t know when to quit.

57. what is their ultimate fantasy? or ““secret”“ kink? Michiko is his ultimate fantasy now. There’s something liberating and intoxicating about having her at the tips of your fingers moaning your name. He feels like he can try anything with her and she won’t say no, although he is aware it’s an illusory freedom.

58. would they ever use any substances like aphrodisiacs, alcohol or drugs during sex? Yes because why not? It’s not necessary but it can’t hurt.

59. what is their wildest sexual experience? A corpo group sex party. It was fun but he doesn’t like joytoys, even premium ones. Had to do a medical check-up afterwards.

60. are they more submissive or dominant? Dominant. But one time Michiko cuffed him to bed and he didn’t mind.

61. does your character need to have an intimate relationship with someone to have sex? or do they prefer being unattached? Unattached is best at the moment. Though he’s not fully aware he’s currently attached.

62. has your character ever participated in group sex? In the past, during his Arasaka days.

63. do they like to sext or play over the holo? Why not both, depending on situation.

64. has your character ever ghosted someone after a sexual encounter? Yes because he doesn’t like attachment. The reason he didn’t ghost Ichigo was that she was always creative during their virtual meetings.

65. how would they react if they were ghosted by someone they like after a sexual encounter? If Michiko ghosted him he’d be probably pissed and then upset. But he suspects she’d tell him first because there’s a certain amount of trust between them.

66. do they prefer kink oriented sex or spontaneous passionate sex? Usually the latter but the former is good too.

67. how do they get down on their own? quick and easy or do they have to romance themselves a little? It depends on a moment.

68. in what outfit do they feel sexiest? how do they dress to impress? Naked is the best. He dresses sharp because that’s how he was raised and also because it makes him feel good about himself. He mostly prefers clean black suits.

69. do they like having music on while they have sex? share three songs they’d play while getting down. He usually doesn’t care but Michiko likes to put on something energetic and loud when they’re in motels. This is just to give the idea of the mood: Fatboy Slim - Ya Mama Beastie Boys - Sabotage Mylène Farmer - Des larmes

#oc: vandermeer #Michiko Arasaka #OTP: Michigo #Rachel Vogelman #others' OCs

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ridasverkisto · 3 years

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who are your top ten black clover characters and ships (romantic, platonic)? talk about them!

Oooooooh. This is gonna be a long one so buckle in. I’m also splitting the answer into two—so this is top ten ships, and I’ll do top ten characters in a separate post, because this is long. 😅

Before I get going, I’m just going to say this is in no particular order—I’m listing them in the order they come to mind, as I love all of these pairings for different reasons so it’s hard for me to rank them. I’ll also preface that for most of my pairings it usually doesn’t matter much to me whether it’s romantic or platonic, so long as they’re not. Y’know. Actual siblings/family/etc. Also for the purposes of this ask, I’m leaving out stuff like...the Black Bulls as a platonic ship tag. They’re found family, it’s sort of a given, so this isn’t going to focus on that. And before anyone asks, yes, I have crackships. I am not apologizing.

[If this needs a page break to keep from clogging tags lmk, btw]

1. Magna/Luck (and/or Magna & Luck, it’s the same to me)

What can I say? I’m a sucker for two dumbass best friends who share a brain cell living their best lives. Their dynamic is fun and interesting—Luck literally views Magna as fun and interesting and he loves bothering him because of how he reacts, while Magna started out hating it but grew incredibly fond of Luck’s antics.

They’re dumbasses, but they’re loveable dumbasses who bring out both the best and worst in each other, and I just love the way they interact. It’s great and I love them both so much 💕

2. Finral & Langris

Okay okay so. I know there’s baggage here, because Langris is an entitled little asshole trashbaby, but hear me out. Finral gets to be an older brother, exasperated with Langris and trying super hard to be a good sibling, while Langris is still a trashbaby but a softer one. Like.

They are Peak Sibling Energy, because I can see Langris insulting Finral because “polite interaction with my loser brother, how tf?” But the moment someone else tries to insult Finral, Langris gets annoyed. It’s the younger sibling Rights, only the sibling gets to insult the other siblings and if you try to get in on that fuck you. Meanwhile, Finral learns to be the responsible older sibling to Langris, and steps into being more responsible in other parts of his life while repairing his relationship with Langris.

Not going to lie, a lot of my love for this ship is because I’m probably projecting my own relationship with my own brother onto them to some extent, and my love for proper Sibling Energy has no bounds because that shit’s hilarious when done right.

Let Finral and Langris develop the weird half-unspoken language of siblings, let them reference embarrassing things and blackmail each other over stupid shit like “who’s going to go refill the teapot” or something!! Let them be petty and loving and protective as they learn to be siblings again, because growth!!!!

3. Julius & Yami & William

Why yes, I am a polyshipper. But mostly what I really like about this one is the history and the dynamics between the three of them.

On the one hand you have Julius, who’s hugely respected by the other two, basically mentored/parented them both, and loves them both a hell of a lot. (You can’t look at the way Julius looks at Yami and William and tell me that’s not love, fuck you)

On another, you have Yami; he’s the outcast, loner, stranger in a strange land who was given a support system and place to belong by Julius. He also struggles to understand the less forthright William, and is fiercely loyal. Like. This man loves and respects Julius so fucking much, and it’s shown through such small gestures, it’s amazing.

And finally, there’s William—who couldn’t chose between Julius and Patry, yeah. Who’s a coward and a troll and hides behind his words and masks, but has made the choice to atone for his mistakes. He feels a lot, and is so clearly trying to be better it hurts.

The way the three of them interact has a lot of history and intricacy behind it, and even with current events in the series, I really really love their relationship with each other. This isn’t a ship I love for fluff, but for the tension and aching weight of history and growing up that lies heavy on it. It’s got this lovely sort of pain to it that feels like nostalgia in the summer heat, knowing nothing is ever going to be like it was once and still deciding to hold onto what you have with both hands.

I never said I ship for fluff and romance—I’m here for dynamics, and these three have amazing dynamics. (I will note for this one that it’s one that I can’t see as romantic at all. Not the least bc Julius was literally in his twenties when Yami and William were like 15, bc ~fuck that shit~)

4. William/Dorothy/Rhya

Is this a crackship? Yes!

Have these characters barely if ever interacted on screen? Yes!

Am I probably the only person who thought of this ship and wants to see content for it? Yes!

Do I give a fuck? No!

Not gonna lie, I know this is a crackship of massive proportions. But I’m here for the dynamics and the dynamics here have the potential to just be so damn cathartic, okay?

If I go on a deep tangent about this ship it’ll end up being an entire essay, so that can wait for another day, so I’ll just...give you this: these three have a lot to give each other to challenge and help each other grow. There’s a lot of potential, and tension, and catharsis here. The contrasts and dynamics between the three of them would be interesting and immensely entertaining.

I’ll also shamelessly admit that a good portion of this is also fueled by my personal head canons of William being a trans guy, Dorothy being feminine presenting nb, and Rhya just straight up being pan and attracted to strong people. What can I say? I know what I like lmao 😂

5. Yuno & Asta

I’m a sucker for good friendly rivalries. Especially ones full of so much mutual respect!!! Like, they both respect each other and care so fucking much is amazing ❤️

And don’t get me wrong, I get the people that ship them romantically and I’ll read it; but I see their relationship as more sibling rivalry/platonic than anything else.

You can’t look at Yuno being a Dramatic Bitch to get on Asta’s nerves and tell me that’s not Peak Sibling Energy, because I tell you I have done the exact same to my own brother. Let them be dorks and friends and brothers, bc it WORKS.

6. Rill/Charmy/Langris

Yes, yes this is another crackship. No, I do not care! And yes, i am aware it will very likely never be canon.

I just really like the image of Langris being reluctantly folded into the dynamic of two cinnamon rolls who could probably flatten him if they really wanted to. And Langris slowly coming to the realization that he actually really likes them and cares for them, even if he is a bit tsun-tsun about expressing it sometimes.

Plus, y’know, Rill and Charmy won’t indulge his asshole-ier behaviors, and if he pisses Charmy off he’s very likely to get his ass kicked.

I can’t really explain it more than that other than I just really really like the dynamics with this trio and I hold it very close to my heart 💕

7. Finral & Vanessa

Let them be friends!!! Let them be platonic best friends!!!! I love their dynamic, esp if you expand on it and take a look at how Finral and Vanessa can play off of each other. BEST FRIENDS.

8. David & Letoile

I know everyone likes to think of them as the chaotic one and the no-nonsense one, but consider: Letoile getting wrapped up in David’s shenanigans bc they’re just as ride or die as Magna and Luck are. Everyone thinks of her as the other holder of the Golden Dawn’s self restraint, and she sort of is, but her standards of what should be restrained is very different from Klaus’s.

9. Julius & Marx (can also be Julius/Marx, but only prior to the whole deaging thing)

Wholesome ship! It’s already obvious that they care about each other a lot in canon, so let that be expanded upon and developed more. It also adds the fun bit that the issues with Julius running away from his paperwork become even more comical with the added context. It starts to feel less like a subordinate yelling at their commandeer and more like an old married couple or something 😂

10. Leopold & Asta & Yuno & Noelle

Three competitive dumbasses and the exasperated one who makes it worse. I love them all and I think they make the best fucking quad friend group;; let them be friends, please. Please. Just the shenanigans they would get into makes me cackle with glee.

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lizacstuff · 3 years

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What did you think of the latest SCK episode? I’m torn. There were some really good scenes, but \insert annoyed sigh\ there was also Celine.

Actually, I really enjoyed it. I watched it last night and then immediately rewatched. There was so much Edser goodness and enough emotional movement that it kept the shipper in me happy even though I am dying for resolution to the secret.

I'll get to Selin and all the delicious Eda/Serkan down below, but I have to give props to some of the side stories this ep. Erdeem humor is hit or miss for me, but this episode it was a hit. The entire montage of the security camera footage had me laughing out loud. Literal, loud belly laughs, my neighbors could probably hear me. The whole scene was gold from the hilarious footage to the reactions. Erdeem was probably the best, but shout out to Leila photocopying herself, who doesn't want to do that? Then there was the reactions, Engin and Piril being mortified, Efe looking guilty and nervous worrying about what they were going to see, Ferit not being able to hold it together. The way he was turning and laughing sort of charmed me, I wasn't sure if that was acting, or if Cagri was breaking during the scene, or both. Either way, it worked, and I loved it. The only thing missing in the scene was Serkan, because Kerem's reaction expressions would have been amazing.

This got LONG so I’ll put the rest beneath the read more:

Loved Aydan getting out of the house and fully joining Team Edser. It's self-serving to some extent because she rightly thinks that losing Eda due to the secret is the wedge driving Serkan away from her. However, to give her props, the breakup also made her recognize how deep and real Serkan's feelings are, actually Eda's too, and I think she genuinely wants both of them to be happy. Now can we have Seyfi and Aydan actively matchmaking? This would be great after Eda finds out since I assume she's going to be angry and need time to process, so there probably won't be an immediate reconciliation. AySey to the rescue!

Ayfer on the other hand needs to chill. Most of the time her end advice "protect your heart" is good, but her overreactions and mocking judgements are annoying. It's got to be clear to her that Eda and Serkan love each other and are working through some things, and there is no need for her to wade into it constantly. Eda is an adult and can make her own decisions and mistakes. As for the other couples Engin and Piril can be funny, but I have no idea what they see in each other and could not be more mismatched so I'm not sure where it's going. As for Ceren and Ferit, I don't understand what Ferit did to upset her throughout the episode, I don't think he did either, but he was sweet about it. I like him more and more. And welcome back Melo! A breath of fresh air.

Now on to the best stuff. The number of heart-felt declarations this episode between Eda and Serkan warmed my cold, icy heart. The fact that they are broken up, but at the same time are at the point of just letting their feelings hang out there for the other to see is super fun to watch.

Eda believing in Serkan when no one else did, and then being determined to find out what happened and bring the culprit to justice is as romantic as it gets. You go, girl! She might be so mad at him, and so annoyed at him, or even feeling hurt, but at the end of the day she is gonna be in his corner no matter what. That's love.

Serkan on the other hand. Serkan, Serkan, Serkan. He can't have her around, but he also can't be apart from her. The poor dear is being pulled in half by a tornado created by his own intense desire to be with her fighting against his noble intentions. It's not fair to Eda at all, but his see-sawing should give her every indication that he loves her and is wrestling with something huge. For his part, I hope he's starting to catch a clue on the depth of Eda's feelings. "You want me to leave, because you're afraid of the woman who loves you more than anything." Seriously. Seriously!?!!? Wow. She'd never told him she loved him, just that their feelings were mutual. He's always feared that he doesn't deserve her and she'll get tired of him. Well she's standing there, with a broken heart and a bruised ego after he took Selin's side, and still telling him that she loves him more than anyone. He also looked absolutely wrecked, as he should, when she said he had just discarded her. He never wanted her to feel that way.

On the other hand, I'm not sure Eda fully digested some of his avowals. "I only trust you." HUGE. Eps 7-9 told us everything we need to know about his trust issues. He loves easier than he trusts. We knew how much he loves her, but now we know not only does he trust her, she's the only one he trusts. Swoon. That was huge for him to admit, Eda, HUGE. But also, "I have never valued anyone as much as you." Once again, huge and a huge breakup fail. I don't blame Eda for not realizing the full weight of these declarations, he says them, but they're apart. Still, you take those and add to the way he can't stay away from her, how he's personally invested in her professionally, actively mentoring her, the password (oh man did I love that), the photo, the mug. Lots of evidence of his real feelings piling up there, Eda.

Which leads to the fact that we're at the point where the pain/gain assessment for Plan A (breaking up to protect her) is in the red. Meaning it's starting to cause more pain than it's prevented. That's where we get to Selin, because she unwittingly pushed things forward for them this episode. I'm not sure what's motivating her, because she seems like a character that would have too much pride to put herself in the position of having to watch a love sick Serkan chase around after Eda like a heartbroken puppy. However, Selin's feelings are in no way the point on this show. They simply don't matter, because in this instance she is a device. A device to ratchet up the tension between Eda and Serkan. A device to drive Eda's impulsivity and showcase a bit of her jealousy. A device to show that Serkan is so far gone over Eda, he doesn't even notice another woman vying for his attention. Also it gave us this:

"I never loved Selin."

Okay, Serkan. I DIED. Like we been knew, but know we KNOW, and we know that he knows. His relationship with Selin was 100% habit and convenience. That also pretty much tells us that Eda is his first and only real love, which makes the way it's changed him so tangible and believable. Also, more importantly than the audience knowing he never loved Selin, now Eda knows. I get Eda's frustration with Serkan not being annoyed at Selin, but she's missing the point that Selin is simply not important enough for him to care. She doesn't rouse any sort of emotion from him, the way he treats her is all fueled by professional duty and personal guilt. The scene in the office was unfortunate, and I wish Serkan hadn't lost his temper, (but not really because it drove their most important conversations) but Eda's impulsivity sort of led it to that place. I get why Eda suspected Selin, in her shoes I probably would have done the same thing, but I also think Serkan is not putting Selin on a pedestal by knowing that she had nothing to do with the sabotage. And Serkan getting angry was the only thing that got Eda to back down, so it was a very inelegant way of de-escalating the situation. On the plus side, it gave us Serkan trying to make things right for the rest of the episode which was amazing. I will never be over the library scene, the autumn walk scene, Eda being his first guest in the new apartment scene. çok romantik!

As for Selin, look, she's ANNOYING. I'm right there with you. The character is entirely self-absorbed and while I think her motivations are murky at best, I think she's driven in part by competition with Eda. Eda won the war when it comes to Serkan, but Selin is still trying to take a battle or two in order to save face. On another note, she spent most of the episode knowing there was a saboteur, that Serkan suspected Efe, and still didn't put 2 and 2 together with the direct threats Efe made towards Serkan in her presence. Seriously, if something doesn't directly affect her, she can't even retain the information. What a useless lump she is.

Thank you Aydan, for calling out how ridiculous it was that she didn't go to a hotel. I love that Selin was probably like, "Wasn't she on my side the last time I saw her?" Hilarious. Serkan allowing her to stay there, when she wouldn't have been welcome while they were together, was eyeroll inducing. But I think Selin is such a nonissue for him, that he just could not wrap his head around why it was bothering Eda so much. Also his guilt. The thing that makes the game that Serkan was playing with her forgivable, is the fact that he actually feels bad about the part he played in her life falling apart. I'm not saying it was his fault, but he rightly feels guilty.

However, from that last scene, I think he's going to learn a hard lesson about guilt getting in the way of common sense. Eda is now ready to push him to his jealousy limit! That final scene escalated quickly, but I think both of them were driven by a fair bit of pride combined with the frayed nerves that have to come with being broken up while they're both still currently, and obviously, in a romantic relationship with one another.

That's hard and I wholeheartedly look forward to them navigating that next episode. From the Fragman it looks like it's all finally coming to a head. Can't wait!

#Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #edser #sck 1x18 #sck discussion #sckask #asklizac #anonymous

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reymundomattix1995-blog · 3 years

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 4 years

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How Oceans Of Slumber went to the edge and back to make the most vital prog metal record of 2020

Oceans Of Slumber are redefining what it means to be a prog metal band in 2020. But the future remains uncertain for them

Between 2018 and 2019, all the original members of Oceans Of Slumber left, bar drummer/songwriter Dobber Beverly. He’d been the self-professed ‘shot caller’ of the band since they started in 2011, and later insisted they bring in female singer Cammie Gilbert, against two of his bandmates’ wishes (“there is a stigma in metal towards a boys’ club,” he notes). But with Cammie on board, they evolved from a loose, directionless project into a slick, soulful, progressive proposition that deftly incorporated extreme metal.

Dobber and Cammie are now the heart of the band, and are also engaged to be married. Together with keyboardist Mat Aleman (who joined in 2018) and new members Jessie Santos (guitar/backing vocals), Alexander Lucian (guitar/backing vocals) and Semir Ozerkan (bass), they are about to release their fourth album. Ambitious, honest and encompassing the personal and the political, it’s their best yet, ranging from thunderous black metal to gnarly death metal and powerful operatic drama. The fact that it’s self-titled surely stands as a statement about who they are in 2020.

“It’s to show this fresh start and this new generation, this new beginning of Oceans,” explains Dobber, speaking in a Southern drawl from his home in Houston, Texas. “We’ve made very confident strides in what we’re doing and the kind of music we’re making.”

Cammie met Dobber in 2015 when her then-band supported Oceans at a benefit show. She remembers seeing him in the middle of the crowd, glaring at her. In fact, Dobber was blown away by her voice and asked Oceans’ original vocalist, Ronnie Allen, to get her details. She duetted on some of Oceans’ songs, before graduating to frontperson when they ran into difficulties with Ronnie.

“Dobber is very serious; I found him quite intimidating,” she reveals today. “But watching him drum, then finding out he plays piano, then guitar, it was a cascade of my emotions falling into the band and my friendship with him. He’s one of the most impressive people I’ve ever met – he’s crazy musically talented, and he cooks amazing food! For me it was a pretty undeniable obsession that formed very quickly!”

Their friendship grew, but Dobber was married at the time. He calls it a “Walk The Line” moment, referring to the Johnny Cash biopic, where a mutual admiration and attraction developed between two musicians. He re-evaluated his life, ended his unhappy marriage, and the two got together.

“What Cammie and I fell into, was the fact that she had the same situation,” Dobber explains. “So when it became a friendship that was too interlinked, I was like, ‘I have to do the right thing to get out of the wrong situation.’ It was walking away from a long-term relationship that was shattered many, many years ago. And not repeating the things that I had done or gone through. There was an admiration for Cammie, and then the love that was between the two of us from respect and from everything else. It was very intense. I’m a very intense person…”

“He’s very driven and focused,” adds Cammie.

“To my own detriment,” Dobber shoots back.

“I can be very emotional and I have a lot of energy behind my emotions, and they’re not always focused,” confesses Cammie. “So it’s a good balance. It keeps me from being like a supernova.”

In the living-room-cum-studio of their farmhouse in the city, and at their studio an hour north, Dobber and Cammie crafted Oceans Of Slumber. Dobber, who also has extreme metal side-projects Malignant Altar and Necrofier, composes the songs before bringing in the other members for the finishing touches. He gives Cammie a title or writing prompt to focus her attention on the lyrics. There are immersive stories of grief, depression, womanhood and love, but arguably the most intense song is Pray For Fire, which inadvertently captured the zeitgeist. Starting off chilled enough, it peaks with a spoken-word monologue that sounds like an early Daenerys Targaryen issuing commands to free a city.

Dobber explains it’s meant to be an inspiring anthem about facing your fears and challenging the status quo, led by a figurehead who’s working for the greater good. While it was coming together, they watched a documentary on the ship-breaking industry in India, where impoverished workers salvage metal and wood from huge container ships under treacherous conditions.

“You look across history, and there are people that are held down, and it creates such anger, and we do the same thing over and over again,” says Cammie. “I wanted a song that was empowering to those people that felt forgotten or lesser-than or oppressed, whether by socio-economic standing, or race, or war. It’s a full call to arms and a call for flames. Obviously with how things changed, it feels like it’s become a bit more literal than the song was meant to be, but I don’t necessarily mind adding fuel to that fire.”

She’s talking about the upsurge of anger following the murder of George Floyd, and the subsequent momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement, which transpired after the song was written. There have been protests downtown at Discovery Green, and for Cammie it’s meant a change in mindset as she comes to terms with current and historical injustices.

“My day-to-day life has not changed, but how I view things around me has changed quite a bit,” she explains. “I feel like the most impacting thing has been the amount of history I’ve learned about the US. I’m not surprised by the things I find out, but it’s very disheartening and it makes me really sad. It’s kind of a peculiar feeling, because you’re a modern person and you have this modern life, and then you find out this sad history that perpetuates so many things in your life now, and there’s a lot of cognitive dissonance.”

This examination of the past and the present has spurred her into action. “It’s taking on a responsibility that maybe I haven’t felt the need to do before, to not necessarily be an activist, but to make sure that I’m informed, and I speak correctly, and I give good information, and I show that I do care and that I do have opinions about these issues,” she says. “But above all else, we have a generation of younger people that are seeing this and growing up through this. I think it’s important that people in leadership roles are spreading positive messages.”

Another standout song with similar themes is the blastbeat-ridden The Adorned Fathomless Creation – a title from Dobber that describes the hypocritical and indefensible treatment of black people in America. He’d been thinking about how basketball player LeBron James pours money into education – he has established a school in his hometown, provided kids with school supplies and funded college places - yet faces racism in his own country.

“Adornment is the robing and the royalty, but to a big portion of America, he’s just some black person, some racial slur,” says Dobber. “I’d set on this idea with Cammie, and I’m like, you are one of these people. And on top of being heralded and lauded and loved and worshipped, simultaneously you are also some creation of America that America hates.”

Dobber credits touring the world with opening his mind to the issues endemic in The Land Of The Free, and as COVID-19 rises significantly in his conservative state, he’s concerned about whether the live shutdown could spell the end of the band. His former members quit due to family and financial concerns, and he doesn’t want the new line-up to be under strain.

“The worry is that something like this could make this virtually our last record, and by that I mean we could have half of the band drop out,” he frowns. “Because if we’re shut down in the States for a year or two years, that can fully dishearten a musician.”

Life is hard enough for bands in a country that prioritises profit over people, and Dobber has balanced music with his 20-year career in removals. “You’re always juggling trying to be alive here,” he explains. “We don’t have public transportation, so you have to have a reliable car. It’s hard, and I have a full-time job, I have a kid, I’ve got my band, I’ve got everything else, and it’s 90 to nothing, constantly. And the only way that we’re able to continue doing the things that we do is touring, and we can’t tour. This is going to be far more detrimental than venues closing in our cities, which they already are. It’s going to run off or have lasting effects on the people who populate this industry.”

Now is the time to support music, especially when it’s this crushing, tender and illuminating, not to mention slickly mixed by Swedish legend Dan Swanö. And Dobber has a closing message to people who are stuck in metal’s boys’ club. “For those hold-out stalwarts, it is OK for you to listen to a metal band with a woman in it,” he says. “It is OK for you to listen to a metal band with a black woman in it. So please do be open-minded and have these experiences, because bands like us want and need an audience.”

#Cammie Gilbert #oceans of slumber #2020 interviews

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youvegot-timetogrow · 3 years

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v. cool of you to ask for receipts and then have replies turned off in your post, unless you didn’t actually want receipts and just wanted to look self righteous in the fjorester tag. unfortunately for you, I’m stuck in a broken down bus and your post is just right there, waiting for me to be petty. but yeah, on Twitter, the worst of the discourse has been from widowjest & beaujester accounts, as well as people who don’t even watch CR but hate the fandom who are repeating hearsay to prove we’re all toxic rabid shippers who aged up Jester, who was formerly a toddler, for the sole purpose of making her a sex object (/s). the age gap/aging Jester discourse has been pushed by all three camps, and there’s been some shitty hypocrisy from widowjest shippers on Twitter. I blocked one person who repeatedly tweeted “you can be uncomfortable with the fjorester age gap and still ship widowjest” which,,, the fuck kind of logic is that statement based on? and several people @‘ed Matt this weekend for supposedly calling out widowjest shippers with his Twitter thread even though 1. he didn’t name any names and 2. as mentioned, there are several camps of people pushing this discourse, so why on earth would Matt have the impression that just widowjest shippers are the cause of it? Anyway, this is all to say that over the past few days, some widowjest shippers have been shitheads and other have really been displaying some victim complexes, so your post in the fjorester tag reallllly seems to follow that second trend. you really just look like a bonehead when you cleary know enough about the current discourse to know that it exists, but don’t have anything to offer than a “not all widowjest shippers, just Twitter widowjest shippers” post in the main fjorester tag. Have you instead considered calling out the people who have made the handful of “this is how Caleb can still win Jester” posts in the main fjorester tag, which *do not even try* to hide the fact that they view Jester as a prize that can be won, shrouding their misogyny and infantilization of Jester with cries of “wouldn’t it be so angsty and romantic”??? There are obnoxious widowjest shippers, just as there are obnoxious fjorester shippers, just as there are for literally every ship in every fandom. either own that fact or stay out of fandom arguments

Hi anon, hope you got off the bus fine and home safe.

Ima start off by saying i... Genuinely did not realize the replies were closed (i just checked and they were set to followers/mutuals only. I hope that's fixed now). You're free not to believe this but I'm not exactly big on Tumblr and i am also not on Twitter (virtually; i do have an account but it hasnt been used in years, and having a vague idea of what goes on there i tend to steer clear).

Having said this...while it wasn't in my intentions, I see now how that post comes off as self-righteous, victimistic and defensive, and I should probably have known better than to post it in the f/j tag (I'll probably remove that tag). While as I said it did not come from a place of hatred, either for the ship or the shippers, it really doesn't add anything to the conversation.

I understand your frustration and I'm sorry that my post only contributed to fuel that sentiment; it was born out of my own frustration to see the community and content creators I love constantly under fire, but I realize that your community is right now under a similar fire and I should have been lifting you up, not trying to shift the blame to someone else.

From what you're describing of the Twitter discourse, the age gap argument does come off as extremely hypocritical, especially from the w/j side; so much so that I genuinely did not conceive there could be people actually making that argument. I haven't seen any on tumblr, but that might just mean i did not look hard enough/scroll down enough in either tag. I did see some negativity on the w/j part, but it mainly boiled down to sadness/disappointment/taking some time off fandom, but the same posts came with congratulations to f/j shippers, so I kind of assumed that was all there was to it. That was my mistake as all my years watching fandom from the sidelines should have taught me that the well of toxicity in fandom is a bottomless pit and can hide on any side.

(same goes for your plead to call out the toxic part of the fandom rather than pointing fingers elsewhere: believe it or not, I haven't come across any of the examples you made. That is on me for not looking thoroughly enough I guess, but still)

Finally, I think I will take your suggestion and avoid fandom discourse altogether from now on, probably even going so far as to unfollow a couple of my favourite meta blogs or creators who discuss such topics. Might go the extra mile and avoid fandom alltogether and just enjoy the show.

Stay safe out there!

#whew this was exhausting

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buildingrelationshipsinanarchy · 4 years

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QIM Model | Dekoship Series | Phadship Series | Seroship Series

*As per uze, you dont have to read anything beneath the infographic itself, but I’m gonna try to add some theory to explain why this one excites me the most in the model*

So some significant people in my life and I have been discussing Anarchist theory lately with all of the uprisings and discussions of abolishing police. And while blogs like @queeranarchism and @hater-of-terfs are so much better read and have better takes on anarchism, direct action, current events, and politics in general, than I could hope to provide, its by those blogs and others that I’m inspired in the ways I am.

Mudships are just affinity groups you built to do some direct action. What is direct action? The link is to CrimethInc’s work Recipes For Disaster, and its intro is a good primer on it. To paraphrase it (who doesn’t like blockquotes?):

Practicing direct action means acting directly to meet needs, rather than relying on representatives or choosing from prescribed options ... it most properly describes actions that cut out the middleman entirely to solve problems without mediation.

Need some examples? You can give money to a charity organization, or you can start your own chapter of Food Not Bombs and feed yourself and other hungry people at once. You can write an angry letter to the editor of a magazine that doesn't provide good 72 coverage of the subjects you consider important, or you can start your own magazine. You can vote for a mayor who promises to start a new program to help the homeless, or you can squat unused buildings and open them up as free housing for anyone in need.

...

The opposite of direct action is representation.

While things can get intense the more confident you get practicing direct action, my purposes here are in regards to relationship building and mutual aid. In the ABC’s of Anarchism, Berkman has this beautiful little quote (you ready for another one?):

If your object is to secure liberty, you must learn to do without authority and compulsion. If you intend to live in peace and harmony with your fellow-men, you and they should cultivate brotherhood and respect for each other. If you want to work together with them for your mutual benefit, you must practice coöperation.

The social revolution means much more than the reorganization of conditions only: it means the establishment of new human values and social relationships, a changed attitude of man to man, as of one free and independent to his equal; it means a different spirit in individual and collective life, and that spirit cannot be born overnight. It is a spirit to be cultivated, to be nurtured and reared, as the most delicate flower is, for indeed it is the flower of a new and beautiful existence.

So when I talk about monogamy and capitalism, it isn’t to shit on people who do monogamy, its discuss how the cultural institution of monogamy is a social relationship. It’s to discuss not that practicing monogamy is the problem (although you’re not gonna catch me doing it), its to discuss how our culture perceives doing monogamy correctly and how that makes it worth critiquing if we were to imagine building a different society and attempt to make any meaningful steps toward it.

If doing monogamy ‘correctly’ is ‘investing’ time, money, emotional intimacy and sexual attention into one person, its obvious that it leaves so many people out of our lives that could add depth, joy, fulfillment, challenge, and transformative growth and change for us. Margaret Thatcher has a terrible quote: “There is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families.” I bring up this trashcan quote by this woman with dumpster politics to critique the idea of Family as well. Monogamy leads to nuclear families, not all of the time, but enough of the time for most of us to have that experience.

But what is Family? Blood ties to people and access to their material resources? That’s how inheritance works, which has torn a part families by fighting over the resources by who gets what. Familiy also has colloquially meant familiarity with certain human beings thats developed or long periods of connection and time. How many of us have found people in our lives who have loved us deeper than our parents and siblings (if you still have, or ever had those)? My father passed a few years ago, and I’m virtually estranged with my mother and younger sister. Family in my life has been the partners and friends through the years who’ve had the patience, grace, and concern for my joy & well-being, it is them who has shared their time, energy, labor, money, food with me when circumstance would steal the ground beneath my feet. To discuss monogamy and family from the lens I’ve constructed is to talk directly about which social relationships become culturally validated and socially encouraged, and with it who gets access to what materials and why we watch others refuse to share it.

I talk about mudships as being relationships built around Mutual Aid and Solidarity, that whatever little circles we’ve built around ourselves don’t interrupt the ability to be charitable and generous with people outside of it. The individualism that’s reinforced by capitalism affects us by separating people from their communities, by leveraging human need against human values, by turning the world outside of our homes into a place ‘full of people who will take advantage of your naivete or good heart.’ This isn’t just some ideological or abstract concept, this word encapsulates why I have the current over my head that I do. It every much discusses how I’ve been able to keep an old roommate afloat after he was laid off of his job and couldn’t claim unemployment; and that was before COVID and its Lockdowns & Quarantines erased a huge chunk of the economy.

I don’t just say this to just encourage sharing. I say this as part of a larger conversation about how we’ve been encultured & propagandized to believe that some people don’t deserve access to healthcare, addiction therapy, housing, food, clean water, this list goes on. I want to start a conversation about building the social relationships that allow us to trust the people we’re sharing money, material resources, and labor with, in our own lives and to inspire the desire to get excited about helping those you may know are in need.

We have so much need and so many stoked, yet unfulfilled desires that capitalism fuels and feeds off of, but does that mean we can do nothing about it? Does that mean we have to hope another Bernie Sanders shows up? I don’t want the quality of my time on this earth to be suffering in ways I can actively resolve or prevent. But I can’t do that alone, trying to do so is impossible. It isn’t a moral failing to not be powerful in a world separates you from the source of connection, inspiration, and depth, all of which exists in the hearts and potential of others.

Don’t let yourself forget that we always better connected than alienated.

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kriscme · 4 years

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One Life To Live

Hi Readers, here’s the latest chapter. Thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” which you can read on AO3 and FanFiction. Chapter 27 The gates of Victor’s Village looms closer with every step. I wish I could grab Marcus by the hand and run back into the woods. To live in the concrete house by the lake, just the two of us, and live on wild greens, berries and katniss roots. To make love long into the night, and then bring out our sleeping mats as we did last night, to lie beneath clear skies to watch for shooting stars. Marcus would point out the constellations – big bear, little bear, lynx – and I’d say they look nothing like them, and then we’d take our sleeping mats back into the concrete house to sleep in each other’s arms until the morning light. And we’d live it over, and over again, so I’d never have to face what lies beyond those gates. It’s not long to the wedding and I dread the thought of it, but I have to go. If I don’t, there’ll be talk. Flavius keeps me abreast of all the gossip. The relationship between Peeta and Lace isn’t popular, and this wedding is seen by many as the ultimate betrayal, so invested were people in our romance. I don’t know if Peeta is aware of it; he seems to live in a fantasy world sometimes. But Lace surely would. To protect him, I have to appear as if I’m fine with it. And that means fronting up to the wedding, all smiles and best wishes for the happy couple. But I’m far from confident that I can pull it off. And there’s after. Living across the road from them. Knowing that Lace occupies his bed every night. His happiness, her smugness. The pain of interacting with him. What are we now, anyway? Not friends anymore, not really. Acquaintances? Fellow veterans? And they intend having children too. Five of them. It will likely be straight off, if Peeta has his way. And when they’re old enough they’ll go to school. The school I work at. And be in my classroom. I’ll never be free of them, even if I do move out of the Village. Not only would I need to change houses. I would need to change jobs. Maybe even change Districts. As we pass through the gates, I can’t help but drag my feet. Marcus turns his head to peer questioningly at my face. I pick up my pace to catch up with him. We’re nearly at my house. “I’m just tired,” I tell him. “And hungry.” “You’re a woman of immense appetites, Katniss Everdeen,” he says, pulling me towards him to give me a quick, hard kiss. “And whose fault is that?” I retort. “If you weren’t so good at cooking and – “ “Fucking?” asks a disembodied voice. A female shape emerges from the shadows of my porch. It’s Johanna. She appears to have been waiting for us. “You’re late,” she accuses. “You said you’d be back around mid-afternoon.” I scowl at her. I know what I said, but I don’t like her tone. I’m not obliged to be back at a certain time to please her. Besides, what’s she even doing here? It’s not like I invited her over and wasn’t here when she arrived. “We came back a different way. It took longer,” I say curtly. That’s all the explanation I want to give, but Marcus, perhaps to diffuse the tension, steps in to give Johanna a brief welcoming hug. “Katniss had something to show me. Would you believe an oak with a circumference of over 23 feet? At least three hundred years old.” “That’s nothing,” says Johanna dismissively. “In 7 we have trees much bigger and older than that.” “Is there anything we can help you with?” I break in. I’m not in the mood for a contest over which district has the biggest trees. All I want is to offload this heavy pack, have a bite to eat and then go to bed. “I need to speak with you. That’s if you can spare the time,” she replies, her voice edged with sarcasm. What is her problem? She hasn’t been this hostile towards me since the Quell. I turn to Marcus in exasperation. He takes the hint and moves towards the door. “Why don’t I see what I can scrounge up for supper? Will you be joining us, Jo?” I can see the struggle in her face. This is food and Johanna will rarely pass on an invitation. “No thanks,” she says, and I can see it’s hurting. “I shouldn’t stay away for too long.” After Marcus closes the door behind him, I hoist my pack from my shoulders and drop it to the floor. My feet are tired and I sit down on the top step, motioning for Johanna to do the same but she remains standing, arms crossed in front of her. Before I can even open my mouth, she lets me have it. “Are you with Marcus now?” she demands. “None of –,” I begin, but then think better of it. I don’t want to add fuel to whatever fire is bugging Johanna. I start again. “I don’t know. Maybe.” And that’s the truth. I’m not so naïve to believe that a weekend of sex makes us boyfriend and girlfriend. Nothing’s been said about feelings, or our future. “But you’re fucking him?” Johanna persists. It’s more a statement than a question. “We’ve had sex, if that’s any of your business,” I say stiffly. “Of course, it’s my business. It became my business when you involved me in this whole sorry saga with Peeta.” My irritation with her rises another notch. It was her idea to get involved, not mine. “Not that you shouldn’t fuck him,” she continues. “Peeta’s had his fun, so why can’t you? Heck, I’d even say fuck the entire district; you don’t owe him anything. But it doesn’t help, you know. Not when I’ve been working my arse off to get the two of you back together. But today I really could have used your help. With Peeta having flashbacks every five minutes and Haymitch next to useless. Aurelius says it’s the stress but – “ “Wait! Slow down. I can’t make head or tail of what you’re on about.” I shake my head in confusion. “What stress? And why isn’t Lace taking care of him? It should be her responsibility, not yours. I don’t –” “They broke up.” It takes a few seconds to sink in. And when it does, all I can do is stare at Johanna thunderstruck. “But why?” I eventually get out. “Is it because she lied?” Johanna shrugs. “I asked him that. He said they both lied.” She comes to sit down beside me on the porch step, having calmed down a little. “When he came home last night, he didn’t seem too bad, just really flat, like he had nothing left. But this morning, he started having those flashbacks he gets where he has to clutch the back of a chair or something. I went to Haymitch for help but he chose last night, of all nights, to go on a bender. I couldn’t get one sensible word out of him.” “Sometimes a jug of cold water thrown over him helps,” I say absently, still stunned over the news of Peeta and Lace’s breakup. Despite myself, a kernel of hope takes root in my heart. Could the breakup have been over me, even just a little bit? But then just as quickly, I squash it down flat, stomp it back down into the earth, and bury it deep. Fool! When will you learn? My gaze settles on his house across the street, only a very short distance away, and I wish I could be there with him. I feel bad that I wasn’t, but I know I wouldn’t have been wanted even if I had. He has enough to deal with without adding his current awkwardness with me to the mix. How can you feel right accepting comfort for heartbreak, when the very person who’s doing the comforting is heartbroken over you? I’m very grateful that Johanna is taking care of him, but I can’t help feeling jealous too. She gets to be the one to protect him, when it used to be me. Johanna’s voice snaps me back to attention. “So, I got on the phone to Aurelius and told him what happened. He said emotional stress exacerbates his condition and to increase his meds. Which I did, but he still kept on having them. A couple of hours ago I slipped some sleep syrup into his tea, so he could get some rest, and he’s now sleeping it off. I don’t want to be gone too long on the chance he wakes up. Although I did give him a big dose.” If it was the same as I gave him in our first Games, he’ll be out until at least noon tomorrow. “How did you get him to drink it? He would have noticed the sweetness. He doesn’t take sugar in his tea.” “I think he wanted to be knocked out,” says Johanna. “He was exhausted.” “Do you know who broke it off?” I ask. It seems to me that it must have been Lace since he’s taken it so hard. “No. I couldn’t get him to talk much.” She lets out a breath and shakes her head. “What a mess! The reception will have to be cancelled, though I doubt he’ll get his money back at such short notice. And what he’s spent on clothes for himself and the wedding party.” That’s news to me. Surely Peeta wasn’t paying to outfit the entire wedding party. Who was to be in it, anyway? And then it dawns on me. Of course, friends and family of Lace. “At least there’s one blessing, Lace’s relatives are still in 8 so he hadn’t yet paid for hotel rooms for them all. He’d booked the best rooms for them too.” Johanna rolls her eyes at this. I narrow mine. That bitch! And after I had warned her not to encourage Peeta’s extravagant spending on this wedding. “Do you think he’ll be alright?” I ask. “He’s already gone through so much.” “Yeah, I think so,” she answers. “He’s had a lucky escape if you ask me, although it might take a while for him to see it that way. That relationship always seemed off to me – like they were trying too hard. I would have given it a year if they’d married. Eighteen months, tops.” “Maybe,” I say uncommittedly. I don’t know if I agree. What I do know is that Peeta would have given it everything he had to make it work. And if a mutual love of swimming pools and dining out at restaurants is a good foundation for a marriage, then they had it. They both wanted kids too and that’s something I can’t promise him. Peeta would be a wonderful father. If anyone is to be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta. “So, is it serious between you and Marcus? Because you might have a shot with Peeta now,” says Johanna. “No!” I burst out, and Johanna’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the ferocity of my response. “I don’t have any chance with Peeta, none at all, so you can give that game up right now. He knows how I feel about him. He guessed from something Haymitch told him and he’s been avoiding me since. And I’m tired, Jo. Tired of getting my hopes up and then having them dashed. I’ve spent the past year trying to remind him what we were to each other, and failed. But the simple truth is that, if he loved me, he wouldn’t have got with Lace in the first place. I’m not . . . I just don’t want to go there anymore. I’ve had enough. ” “Wow! That was extreme,” Johanna says, shooting me an incredulous look. “I thought the mission was to help Peeta find himself. Which would also include regaining his attraction to you. I assume then that you’ve given up?” “Not given up. Faced reality.” I say.

“Humph!” snorts Johanna, unconvinced. “Well, it’s your call but before I let it go for good, I want to tell you a theory I’ve been working on. Just don’t say anything until I’ve finished.” “Alright, go ahead,” I say wearily, scrubbing at my forehead. Johanna will do what she wants to anyway. “Well,” she starts, with the air of someone telling a story to a small child, “it involves this man – let’s call him Peeta – who had his mind shattered into a million pieces by an evil troll – we’ll call him Snow – and when his mind was put back together again, some of the pieces were in the wrong place. And his love for his teenage crush – Katniss, we’ll call her – had gone AWOL and had been replaced with a conviction that she had never loved him, and never could. And then along comes this other woman – known as Lace, although it’s not her real name – and even though she’s a giggling idiot, she knows how to pander to his ego - which is in the toilet, by the way - with lavish displays of admiration and affection. “But then one day, he wakes up, and realizes that what he loved about Lace, was really his own needs reflected back at him. And also that she was a lying deceitful bitch. At the same time, he’s come to realise that it’s Katniss he really loves, but he thinks that not only has he ruined any chance he might have had with her by being with Lace, she’s now with another man, who not only likes the things she likes, but has two legs, no burn scars and isn’t a mental mess. So, to be fair to Lace, he breaks it off with her, and to be fair to Katniss, he leaves her alone to live her life. But then, the whole situation becomes too much for him and it brings on flashbacks, one after another, in rapid succession. It’s fortunate that a loyal, resourceful, amazingly intelligent friend is there to give aid. She then tries to talk sense into Katniss, which, as usual, is a waste of time. But she tries anyway, hopeful that one day, something might get through to that brainless head of hers.” “That last part was completely unnecessary,” I say. There’s no gain in rising to Johanna’s barbs, any more than there is to Max’s teasing. They really are alike. Maybe that’s why they fight. As for her theory, it does have some plausibility, but it’s still mostly wild speculation. “Is there something you know that I don’t?” I ask. “Or did you make that up?” Johanna shrugs. “I made it up. But you have to admit it makes sense.” I roll my eyes at her. “For you, maybe.” We sit in silence for a few moments until Johanna slaps her thighs and gets to her feet. “I should get going now, just in case. I don’t want him waking up to an empty house. Oh, and Katniss, if you’re going to fuck Marcus, you should do something about birth control. Sex has consequences, you know.” “Yes, I do know that. My mother is a healer, if you recall. I know how to take care of myself.” What I don’t tell her is that in 13, all female military recruits were given five-year contraceptive implants before they were sent into action. Johanna wouldn’t know this because she failed the final test having succumbed to her phobia of water, a consequence of her torture in the Capitol. Something I’m sure Johanna wouldn’t like to be reminded of. Before she leaves, she says, “I’ll keep you posted, and I think you should visit once things settle down a bit. He needs to know he’s not alone.” I nod because it’s easier than arguing. I’m pretty sure that Peeta won’t want to see me. It might even bring on another flashback. I watch Johanna walk over to Peeta’s house and close the door behind her. And then I open the door of my own house to where Marcus is waiting. He’s set out a platter of cheeses, pickles, carrot sticks, crackers and fruit. And some kind of spread that he made from a can of chickpeas he found in the pantry. There’s also a plate of Peeta’s cookies and a pot of tea. “Peeta again?” asks Marcus. He pours out two mugs of tea and sets one in front of me. “How did you guess?” I hope we weren’t speaking so loudly that it could heard from inside the house. The dining table is not far from a window. My face reddens at the thought, especially since there was talk about Marcus and fucking. “Because whenever you and Johanna have one of your private talks out there on the porch, it’s about him. I hope everything’s alright.” He makes a plate of food for himself while he’s speaking, his expression unreadable. I get the impression that he’s well and truly over Peeta Mellark. I come straight out with it. Word is going to get out anyway. “Peeta and Lace have split up. The wedding’s off. Peeta is . . .” I pause here. I don’t want to give too much of Peeta’s mental state away. People, Marcus included, already think he’s unstable. “Peeta’s very upset about it,” I end up saying. His hands still for a moment, poised as he cuts a slice of cheese to add to his plate. “That’s . . . unfortunate. I suppose it had something to do with the incident at the pub last week?” “I’m not sure. Probably.” I don’t really know, but Johanna said something about both of them lying, so I think it’s safe to assume. “Johanna wasn’t very clear about it.” I take a cracker from the platter and nibble on it. My appetite seems to have dried up for some inexplicable reason. Something is wrong, and I don’t know what it is. The air almost crackles with it. “How do you feel about it?” he asks, eyes intent on mine. I don’t answer immediately, unsure of the motive behind his question. Is he asking my opinion on the break-up – whether I think it was good thing, or a bad thing? Or is he asking how it’s affected me emotionally? I decide the first option is the safer of the two.

“It’s sad. They seemed very compatible. But I guess if you don’t have trust in a marriage, then it’s unlikely to work in the long run, so perhaps it’s for the best.” I shrug my shoulders slightly to simulate indifference and sip my tea. “It’s hard for me to comment exactly, without knowing the details,” I add. “The devil’s in the details,” he says, almost distractedly. “But you’re right about trust. No relationship can be successful without it.” And then he returns to his food, and nothing more is said about it. But something’s not quite right. The only thing I can attribute it to is the news of Peeta and Lace’s cancelled wedding. Perhaps he thinks our relationship is at risk now, when nothing could be further from the truth. There’s no chance that Peeta and I will get back together. Lace out of the picture won’t change that. Later that night, after a quick shower, I pull from my closet a filmy negligee the colour of apricots. It was part of the wardrobe Cinna designed for my wedding to Peeta. I never got the chance to wear it, nor the matching nightgown, so light that it’s almost transparent. I trail the gauzy fabric through my fingers, noting how fragile it is. It would be so easy to rip from neckline to hem, that it makes me wonder if that’s its intended purpose. My mind can’t help but imagine how Peeta would have reacted to seeing me in it. Or how he would react if I showed up at his house right now, with only this sheer, flimsy garment to cover my naked body. Probably it would send him into a flashback that he’d never come back from. I take a critical look at myself in the full-length mirror. The soft orange complements my olive skin and my hair, freed from its braid, ripples down my back in silky waves. My body is slender and small breasted, but still feminine, the waist curved and the hips rounded. My nipples stand out in hard peaks against the gossamer thin fabric and the dark triangle of my pubic hair is clearly visible. I turn my back to peer over my shoulder. My best asset, my “derriere”, as Effie would call it, is high and round. The burn scars, most prevalent on my back, are barely noticeable now, thanks to the skin treatments, except for a few spots where the skin looks slightly melted. Not too bad, Everdeen. Not too bad at all. My feet are silent on the carpeted floor to the guest room. I rap lightly on the door and he tells me to come in. He’s toweling himself dry but he stops the instant he lays eyes on me. And when the towel drops to the floor, forgotten, I see that I’ve achieved the exact response I was hoping for. The love-making this night is wild and uninhibited. It dawns on me that Marcus had been holding back, perhaps in deference to my virgin status, but now that’s abandoned. My theory about the nightgown proves correct. Marcus rips it right down the middle and then slips it off my shoulders in one movement, taking the robe with it. I didn’t know that humans could make love like animals, with the male thrusting from behind. I’d always assumed it was face to face like the illustration in the tattered text book we were provided with in the meagre sex education classes at school. But I love it, so animalistic and exciting, the way he pounds into me, his hands holding my hips firmly in place. The way I can’t help but arch my back to welcome him in with every thrust. But after our passion is spent, my thoughts return again to Peeta. How he’s feeling, how helpless I am to help. I try hard to recreate the magic of the concrete house by the lake, where I could lie in Marcus’s arms, warm and snug and drift into a dreamless sleep. Because I know instinctively, that the nightmares will return tonight, as bad as ever. If only Peeta had never come back to 12. He would have got the treatment he still desperately needed if he had stayed in the Capitol. He wouldn’t have met Lace, and she him. And as for me, I was resigned to the fact that I had lost him and I know now that I would have recovered from my depression eventually. His return simply sparked a false hope that I’ve been battling ever since. So here I lie, in the arms of a man who is as close to perfect as you can get, and my head is full of Peeta Mellark.

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isitandwonder · 4 years

Text

What to do when your fandom becomes nasty and doesn’t stop fighting

I’ve been looking at the current fandom situation since the weekend. I see several fighting grounds, accusations being throw back and forth, trolling, hate comments, emotional responses and so on.

As much as I understand at least part of this and the heated atmosphere - this is really not helping!

I’ve been reading around a bit and thought a bit and here are my suggestions how to go about it and maybe make things better. I know some of them sound harsh and hard to follow but I believe it’s the only way to change this hurtful, damaging, unhealthy sitaution.

- Accept that you won’t change a single person on here. No matter how good, sound, rational your arguments are, they won’t change anything when it comes to emotional responses or delusional behavior. You are not here to educate others by demanding a certain behavior.

- Set an example. Be the change you want to see. Behave like you want the fandom to behave. Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.

- Don’t argue online. Never explain, never complain, at least not out in the open. It leads nowhere and only fuels hate.

- Ignore. No matter how hateful some stuff is you see when it comes to fandom fights, ignore it. IGNORE IT!

- Block. Ignoring doesn’t mean you have to expose yourself to content you don’t want to see again and again. The next step after ignoring a post and not attacking the blog that posted content you don’t like is to block the user or the tag. And never go back. Don’t go peeking after a few days. Again - IGNORE them completely.

- Don’t feed the trolls. On platforms where blocking isn’t working, never engage in conversation with trolls and haters. They want attention and every comment is just that, even when you call them evil fuckers they’ll thrive. Delete the comment/anon ask without interaction. Though, when it’s too bad, file a complaint with the site’s owner, report them, or, in severe cases, involve the police where this is possible.

- Find friends. Okay, maybe friends is a too strong word, but find a group of likeminded people and stick with them. Have fun with them. Bitch to them in private if necessary.

- Support each other by reblogging content, fics, reccing your mutuals’ stuff, comment on their fics, whatever else positive interaction you migth think of - do it! It will be appreciated.

- Be positive. Try not to spread hate openly, don’t put other’s down, don’t attack others. Just behave like a decent, polite, respectful human being. Don’t reblog hate or demeaining posts even if you think it’s funny. In most cases, say something nice or say nothing at all is very sound advise to keep a community peaceful.

- DLDR. Seriously. It’s so easy! And don’t leave unsolicited crit. Ever.

- It’s not that important. Seriously, 99% of the stuff fandoms argue about is not important. No matter how often some folks tell you that, if you don’t attack a ‘Hater’ or ‘Anti’, the world will end and you’ll be responsible for the spread of homophobia, racism or misogyny - you’re not. The world won’t stop turning if you just ignore a post full of hate against a celebrity you love. Instead of attacking the ‘hater’, post somethin gpositiv ein return.

- Reach out. If you see a fellow fan bullied, reach out to them, not to the haters and bullies by attacking them. Cheer them up. Distract them. Say something nice, ask a question unrelated to the hate or just send them a heart or smiley face. Actively reblog their content. Show them they are loved and valued. This helps more than any ever so well-intentioned attack on the bullies.

- You don’t owe anything to anyone here. Don’t allow others to exploit you. Don’t fight their fights because you hope they’ll become your friends or accept you. It’s not worth it.

I know that it can be really fucking hard to follow this advice. I’m aware that I myself am often not able to follow it. That’s why I wrote it down. Before I will engage in any arguments on here, I will at least try to look this post up and read it through in the hope that it will help me with my impulse control.

Btw, if others have more helpful ideas how to go about the situation, please feel free to add.

Peace & Love

#fandom #hate #drama #help #trolls

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

Note

Could you write something that takes place during Roy's apprenticeship with Berthold Hawkeye shortly after he started and he doesn't get along with Riza even though he tries to. One day they start fighting, Roy calls Riza a bitch, Riza gets mad and tells him that his parents only sent him here because they hate him and don't want him around and Roy is upset and leaves, Riza finds him later crying about it and he tells her that his parents are dead and she feels bad and apologizes.

oooohhhh i liked this one! thank you! i hope i did it justice though kjnfssf and i hope you enjoy it

Tensions were high in the Hawkeye household and it wasn’t becauseRoy’s first alchemy exam - courtesy of her father and his intense way ofteaching.

Well, that hadsomething to do with it.

It was because Rizaand Roy were currently walking on eggshells around each other after dumbargument they’d had that morning. It was so petty that even now Riza feltridiculous, but then she remembered his words and felt another surge of anger.

They’d never really seen eye to eye on a lot of things. He was tooloud and demanding for her liking and she was too quiet and apparently “stuckher nose up” at everything he suggested. Riza had been outraged to hear thatwas how Roy thought of her, because it wasn’t true at all. Just because she didn’twant to listen to him loudly boasting about idiotic things like how he could runthe fastest out of all the boys in his neighbourhood, didn’t make her stuck up.It made her irritated hearing him trying to put her down by asking whatachievements she had to her name.

He’d tried to strike up a friendship, and so had Riza, but shethought they just didn’t work. They didn’t mesh well together. He was a pompousand arrogant idiot that Riza had no time for.

However,they’d reached a truce a few weeks ago when Roy had complained about how stupidand unfair this exam was, not knowing that Riza had just entered the room tohear him. He’d jumped and scowled, but there was a panicked look in his eyes, afraidshe might run and tell her father.

Instead,she approached the kitchen table and quietly took a seat.

“Sometimes, he’s too much for me too.”

They’dbonded over their mutual frustration regarding her father’s teachings andupbringings, and so begun a tentative friendship.

Now,that was in tatters.

Riza had been helpingthe stressed teenager study and asked him how he could havepossibly gotten a simple question wrong - meant more as a playful joke thananything else, and the first one Riza had ever made in his presence - but Royhad snapped back, stating that at least he could do alchemy,unlike her. Riza had stated at him, slightly dumbfounded. He then went on tostate that no wonder her father had chosen him over Riza to teach alchemy. She’dstood abruptly, the textbook falling off her lap and landing with a thumpon the floor. Roy didn’t even look up. She stormed out the room trying to fightback the tears without so much as an apology from the boy she’d been trying tohelp.

Riza remembered thedays when her father had tried to teach her alchemy. She remembered the yellingand the berating.

“I can’t believe I was cursed with such a child who’dnot only taken my wife’s life away from her, but was also so useless at alchemy,she is unable to carry on my legacy.”

Shortly after thatconversation, he’d brought on Roy as an apprentice.

That’s why, initially,Riza wanted nothing to do with this damned science. It could burn in hell forall she cared – and that opinion remained – however, being cooped up in thehouse with only her recluse of a father and another teenager, Riza hadnaturally sought out companionship. Alchemy came part and parcel with her fledglingfriendship with Roy.

It was also another way she could try and please her father, byhelping the boy succeed, however she’d never openly admit that to anyone.It took a lot for Riza to even admit that to herself.

Now it was two days later,and the exam was tomorrow morning. This would determine whether Roy would bekept on or not. Naturally, he would be nervous and stressed, but that didn’texcuse being mean when she’d only been trying to help and lighten the mood.

Riza entered the kitchen after dinner for a glass of water only tojump in fright at the sight of a dark figure sitting, slouched, against thetable. The door creaked loudly, the hinges yelling their desperate plea forsome maintenance and care. Roy started in his chair, sitting bolt upright, apiece of paper stuck to his face with his drool.

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but his angrywords remained, clinging painfully to her chest. Without a word she continued onher way and retrieved a glass from the cupboard. Roy only coughed in response, followedby the sound of paper rustling.

Time seemed to stretch for an eternity and for some reason theconstant sound of paper moving reallybegun to grate on Riza’s nerves.

“You had no right to say what you did,” she managed to announce tothe silent room, the anger inside her belly overcoming the nervousness in theface of confrontation. It was time for her to stand up for herself and Riza Hawkeyewas more than ready because it was a long time coming.

“Neither did you,” Roy stated, voice hard.

Riza whirled around, the running water forgotten. “I was trying tohelp you. I have been since you startedpreparing for this exam, in case you’d forgotten.”

“Why did you volunteerto help if you were only going to make fun of me?” he fired back.

“I was trying to lighten the mood! And, because I don’t want youto go!”

Silence filled the room and for once Riza was proud of herself. She’dfinally managed to render the great Roy Mustang mute.

“I don’t care,” he sniffed. “It sucks here anyway. I don’t care ifI get kept on or not.” His tone was petulant but teenage Riza was unable to distinguishthat. She only felt hurt in her chest as the one person who was the closestthing to a friend for Riza stated they didn’t care about staying here with heranymore.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Screw this up. See if I care!”

“Fine, I will!” he shouted back. No doubt this whole conversation haddisturbed her father but Riza didn’t care. “It will save me the hassle ofputting up with the crazy bastard in the other room and his bitch of adaughter!”

Riza’s expression was cold and unforgiving as she replied. “The onlyreason you’re here is because your parents hate you and didn’t want to put up with youanymore,” she replied, just as hatefully as Roy’s retort, but there wassomething different in his face. “Good luck crawling back to a home where noone wants you after you fail this exam!”

Roy’s mouth was parted and Riza – dare she say it – thought shesaw his eyes becoming wet.

He was gone and out the room in seconds, the back door slammingloudly.

Where pride had found her before, now there was only regret. Shewasn’t proud of what she’d said in the slightest. It wasn’t nice, it was mean,and that was not the kind of person Riza was. Even though Roy had initiated itwith his unkind words, Riza didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. However, she wouldn’tjust sit back and take his abuse – she’d done that enough in the face of herfather and had vowed that it would happen no longer.

Standing up to her father was still incredibly difficult, butstanding up to a someone she didn’t really know that well? She could do that.

WhatRiza couldn’t understand was why her words had caused such a reaction?

Oh.Oh no.

Werehis parents…? Was everything all right back at his home in Central?

Rizahad only seen his Aunt drop him off here, but she just guessed that was becausehis parents were maybe busy with work or something. She’d never ventured to tryand put two and two together and Roy never mentioned anything about them.

Thundercracked outside – the sound making Riza jump in fright, that’s how loud it was.A fork of lightening streaked through the sky and dived down behind the trees ofthe forest outside her home.

Roywas out there in the storm.

Hewas probably upset because of her comments. Riza knew she was.

She’dhad a hand in causing this.

Grabbingboth her and Roy’s rain jackets from the hook by the front door and a torchRiza took off into the night.

* * *

Itwas dark before she found him. Riza was soaked through to her bones, shiveringuncontrollably with her teeth chattering loudly. Roy looked much the same, hunchedover on an old tree trunk that had fallen down a few years ago in a thunderstorm.He looked as drenched as Riza felt. Hair plastered to his head and down hisneck, his clothes shining with moisture.

Therain had been relentless as it fell while Riza had moved through the forest.Here, at this old fallen tree, it had lessened as they were more sheltered. Thecanopy above was thick, however fat drops dripped off the leaves and onto theirbodies as the rain continued to fall high above them.

“Roy?”she called apprehensively, her teeth almost biting her tongue. His back was to herand Riza wasn’t sure what she would find when – or if – he turned to face her.

Hedid turn, but only after she called his name again and a little louder. Roylooked up at her, confusion plain on his face, but it also held an immensesadness. His eyes were desolate, his face wet. What were raindrops and what weretears, Riza couldn’t tell.

You caused this.

“Areyou okay?” she asked. Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He looked sosmall and sad – a shell of his usual arrogant self.

Heshook his head.

“Here,”Riza offered him his jacket. Roy stared at it before looking back up at her fora brief second. Then, with finality, he shivered and turned back around tostare into the inky blackness of the trees.

Abrief internal debate later, Riza draped his jacket over his shoulders and huddledon the fallen trunk next to him. Roy stiffened but didn’t say anything when shepressed her body up against his. She shivered next to him, a large shudderracking her body and causing it to bump against him. With a mumbled apology shelooked ahead with him, formulating the correct words she needed to say in hermind.

“I’mso sorry,” she whispered. Thunder cracked again, making her jump, but Royappeared to not have heard it. “What I said… I’m sorry if it was insensitive.”She risked a glance up at his face. He continued to stare straight ahead intothe trees, unmoving and unflinching in the rain.

“Myparents died.” Riza felt her blood run cold, the regret in her stomach knowing awaypainfully as his words registered with her. Oh,god. It was worse than she thought. And she just had to go and put her foot in it and say something like that.

“Roy,I’m sorry, I truly am.” Her tone was earnest, desperate for him to understand.She felt like such an idiot. She was the worst person on the planet, throwingsomething like his dead parents back in his face.

Shefelt awful.

Appearingto have snapped out of whatever trance he was in, Roy shook his head, waterslipping off his sodden hair and hitting Riza’s skin.

“Youdidn’t know.”

“Thatdoesn’t excuse what I said –”

“Riza,please, just…” He trailed off, suddenly looking and sounding a lot older thanhis sixteen years. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Shedidn’t want to leave it be. Her words had been hateful, but so had his, shereminded herself. She’d basically stated his parents didn’t want him anymore that’swhy he was here with her, but his parents were dead.

Thatwas so much worse.

“I’msorry too. For everything.”

“Foreverything?” Riza repeated, confused.

“Iwasn’t the most open when I first arrived,” he elaborated. “It wasn’t intentional.Growing up where I grew up… Arrogance came as part of the deal. I had to becauseif I didn’t then I would’ve gotten eaten alive for being the scrawny kid withno real talents except his brains.” He laughed to himself but Riza knew therewas nothing funny about it. “I had to lie my way through a lot with the otherkids because they… Well, they weren’t the nicest. The area I used to live in wasn’tthe nicest, but it was home,” he added, an almost wistful smile on his face.

“Strategyand alchemy have always been my strong point so at least I was able to getmyself out of some rough situations.” Riza’s heart constricted at the thoughtof her friends being left to fend for himself like that. It didn’t sound pleasantat all. “Now, it’s just a habit. A defence mechanism. So, I apologise if I cameon too strong with you. I know how irritating that behaviour can be.”

“Itwas a little much,” she whispered, bumping his shoulder with her own. A smallsmile tugged at his lips and Riza counted that as win, even if his face did dropagain. Roy wiped his nose with the back of his hand, rubbing at his eyes.

“Canwe… Can we just, start over?” he asked, expression earnest as he finally turnedhis body to face her. “I… I’m not proud of what I said, and it was unfair. Ithink…” He sighed heavily, dropping his gaze. “I thought you were making fun ofme like the kids back home used to do. That’s why I snapped.”

“Iwas trying to lighten the mood,” Riza explained. “I didn’t mean to –”

“It’sokay,” he reassured her with a real smile this time. “We could be here all dayhanding out apologies for every little thing we said in anger. I’m really sorryfor that. And, if you’re willing, I’d like to start over, because I really likeyou, Riza.” His eyes widened as he spotted her blush. “No – No! Not like that,”he stuttered. “I mean, you’re really lovely, and a really nice person, notstuck up at all like I said before –”

“Roy,”she interrupted, still embarrassed by the blush that had appeared on her face. “We’regood on my end,” Riza stated, telling him all was forgiven. Now, she waitedwith bated breath to hear if the feeling was mutual for him, and not that she’dmade the biggest mistake of her life by driving probably the only person shecould call a friend away from her with some angry words.

“We’regood on my end,” he repeated back with another smile. He turned away and sighedin relief, completely missing the way Riza’s face turned pink again at thesight of his smile. “I’ll cut the shit and work on being more bearable,” he offered,a strained smile on his face as he turned back to face her.

“That’sall I ask,” she stated solemnly before breaking out in a grin, nudging hisshoulder to tell him she was joking. “Come on, we should get back before we gethypothermia,” Riza offered.

Shestood, offering her hand to Roy. He stared at it before looking up at her eyes.Riza remained steady under his scrutiny. Obviously, it had been hard for him totrust thanks to his upbringing – something she was intrigued by and wanted to learnmore about, should he offer – so that explained the hesitation.

However,Riza felt a thrill of happiness as he gripped her hand tightly and hauledhimself up to his feet. With a sigh, another sniff, and a wipe of his eyes, Roynodded and was ready to return home. Riza gave him a quick smile and the tworushed into the rain and back to her home as quickly as they could.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #ask #anon #emma writes #fic request #writing prompts

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5hfanfiction · 5 years

Text

Why Did I Get Married? (Camren)

Part Twenty Seven: Communication

“Communication is the fuel that keeps your relationship alive and burning. Without it, your relationship will go cold,” William Paisley.

***

To have a relationship with someone, it requires good communication. There needs to be a mutual understanding of each other’s feelings. For example, if you get mad at someone and you stop speaking to one another, the barrier needs to be overcome and the problems need to be resolved.

Communication solves most problems, therefore communication skills are the foundation for a strong relationship.

*** *Flashback*

“Really, Laur?” Camila opened her eyes slowly when she felt her girlfriend peppering kisses all over her face.

Lauren placed a kiss on Camila’s lips, savouring the taste that her lips would allow. “I will never get tired of kissing you.” She mumbled as she pulled away, sighing in content. “You’re amazing.”

“I can say the same thing about you, amor,” Camila sat upright, her back leaning against the bed’s headboard, Lauren following suit. “Listen, Laur…” Camila began but trailed off.

The photography student at the time took one of her girlfriend’s hand in hers. Back then, Camila was currently pursuing her Bachelor of Music. They were both in their second year of their degrees, which meant that they would soon be taking on the world of work by storm.

“Babe, we don’t need to talk about that again,” Lauren said.

Camila shook her head ‘no’. She sighed and straddled her girlfriend’s waist so that she could look into her beautiful emerald eyes as they had this conversation yet again. “Amor, I know we cleared things up already, but I need you to know, there’s no one else in this world that I would want to be with besides you.” Camila brought a hand to Lauren’s face and stroked her cheek. “You are my everything. I don’t care if someone flirts with me, looks at me, my eyes are only focused on you.”

Insecurity.

It’s a side effect of loving too much but getting little in return.

It doesn’t necessarily mean that Lauren had loved Camila less than she loved her. But insecurity can stem from many types of relationships and it affects someone’s view about themselves. Eventually they might start to think that they don’t deserve love.

“I love you, Camz. I love you so much,” Lauren sighed. “But sometimes it’s just so hard to believe someone like you could want someone like…me.”

Camila wrapped her hands around Lauren’s neck, brown eyes locked with green. “You are stupid to think that I would want someone other than you. I can list so many things about you that’ll make you seem so fucking incredible, Jauregui.”

Camila pulled Lauren in for a kiss. Connecting their lips in a slow but sensual kiss. They shut their eyes instinctively, as fireworks erupted behind their eyelids. A soft groaned escaped Lauren’s lips. The taste of Camila’s lips, how they felt under Lauren’s, was a feeling neither of them would ever get tired of. Not wanting it to go any further as they had classes soon, Camila pulled away and pecked her girlfriend on the nose.

“You’re the person who taught me how to love,” the music student whispered. “The one who actually loved me back. You’re the one who never left my side even though I knew at times, I wasn’t the easiest person to be with. You gave my life purpose. You gave me something to look forward to every single day I opened my eyes.”

Having met Lauren, Camila finally felt as though she knew her place in this universe. She felt that she was alive because they were destined to find each other, to fall in love and to be each other’s happiness.

Lauren smiled and traced her wife’s lips with her index finger. “In a universe with so many stars, the closest one to the earth is the sun. And you are my star Camila Cabello. Which makes you my sun.” She reached into the drawer next to their bed and pulled out a box. “I didn’t plan to do this so soon, or like this, but I feel it in my heart that this is the right moment.”

When she opened the box, Camila saw the most beautiful ring. It was a silver band with a sun engraved into it. Lauren pulled the ring out of the box and held it in her hand.

“I’m not proposing,” the photography student clarified. “But I will one day.” She took Camila’s hand in hers. “I’m making a commitment to you, Camila and only you. You’re why I’m here. I was destined to find you. In a world filled with seven billion people, I was unbelievably lucky to find my soulmate. Thank you for giving me somewhere to be…” Lauren looked into Camila’s eyes and saw that there were so many tears pouring out of them and trickling down her cheeks. “And that somewhere is beside you.”

She slipped the ring on and brought it to her lips, kissing Camila’s finger ever so lightly. “I am totally in love with you. This is the kind of love that burns so intensely that it feels like an explosion of fireworks rippling through my body whenever you’re near, or whenever you touch me. It’s the kind of love that leaves me sleepless but energized at the same time. Speechless but poetic.” Lauren caressed Camila’s cheek. Her girlfriend was an emotional wreck but was still hanging on to what she was saying. “This is the kind of love that shows me where exactly I’m supposed to be.”

Camila smiled through her tears. “The feel-so-much-that-I’m-scared-of-being-hurt kind of love?”

Lauren laughed softly and nodded. “The can’t-eat-can’t-sleep-all-I-do-is-think-about-you kind of love.”

“The love I never knew I was searching for, until I found you, Lauren Michelle,” the music student wrapped her arms around her girlfriend and held her so tightly. “I love you so goddamn much. Please, please don’t ever think I’ll want someone else other than you.”

Lauren hugged Camila back tightly, placing a kiss on top of her head. “I am irrevocably in love with you.”

*End of Flashback*

***

I feel like we’re all just looking for someone who cares enough to try. Someone who realises when they make a mistake and when they hurt your feelings, that they mean it when they say they’re sorry.

Someone who remembers the little things about you. Not just because they have impeccable memory, but rather that they’re paying attention to the things that you have to say.

Someone who’s shy and can barely hold a conversation, but yet they can’t seem to shut up around you. They do anything to have your attention and to keep the conversation going, just for the sake of hearing your voice.

We don’t want to change the ones we love, we’re just simply hoping that we matter enough to them just to go the extra mile.

“Lauren, Camila,” Doctor Briggs greeted the couple as they stepped into her office. “It’s nice to see the both of you again. Can I interest either of you in some tea? Coffee?”

The couple declined Chelsea’s offer of drinks as they took a seat opposite to their therapist.

“How have you been?” Chelsea directed the question to the couple as she grabbed her notepad and slipped on her glasses.

Camila piped up first. “Well, I’ve been okay. I’m actually preparing for the release of my album in September, so my schedule has been a bit hectic, but I’m trying my best to make time for my family.”

Doctor Briggs nodded as she made a note of what Camila said. “Do you have any fears of your relationship regressing into old patterns when you get back out there making your music?”

The singer paused for a moment, looked at her wife before answering. “I feel like it’s only normal for me to be a bit scared but I’m going to try to not neglect my family like what I was doing before. I know Izzy needs me, and Lauren needs me…and I need them. Being thousands of miles away from my family hurts me, and if I can squeeze in some time everyday to FaceTime them, or even when I have a break, to spend time with them, I’m going to do it.”

Lauren smiled and took her wife’s hand in hers, bringing it to her lips.

“I’m glad to hear that Camila. This is major progress as to how you were before. Making time for your family would not just be beneficial for you both as a couple, but Izzy as well. And I know how much your daughter’s happiness means to the both of you,” Chelsea said. “And Lauren? How have you been?”

The photographer shrugged. “I’ve been fine. Just balancing my life between work, friends and my family.” Lauren looked as though she wanted to say something but she held her tongue.

However, their therapist noticed this.

“Is there something else you wanted to add?”

Lauren sighed. “Recently, Camila and I had talked about something with our friends…and I just…I don’t know it’s been at the back of my mind.”

Doctor Briggs nodded in understanding. “The key to having a successful relationship is communication, Lauren. So if something is bothering you, you should try to talk things out with your partner.”

Camila nodded in agreement. “I know I haven’t always been the best person for you to talk to, but whatever it is, amor…you can tell me.”

Lauren sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. “Do you remember on my birthday you mentioned us moving to New York ?” Camila nodded. She had brought up the thought, because she felt as though it would’ve been the best thing for her family as they would’ve been closer to each other. “I’ve been thinking about it…and I know that all our family and friends are here in Miami, but I’ve thought about it and I think it makes so much sense to move to there.”

“But…do you want to move?”

“I told you already, Camz, my home is wherever you and Izzy are,” Lauren smiled at her wife. “I know it wasn’t set in stone, but I took the liberty of finding teachers to home-school Izzy and you remember Elena right?”

Camila nodded. “The cute lil girl we met at the park, who Izzy talks about like 24/7?”

Lauren laughed. “Yes, her. Her mother; Anastasia, is actually a teacher and she worked at the Love Academy Preparatory, which means she’s really good. So I spoke to her and asked her if she was willing to tutor Izzy, and she said yes.”

Doctor Briggs sat observing the interaction between the couple. Communication had always been their biggest enemy and today’s session was supposed to help them with that. Talking out their issues, and voicing their opinions would help them to be more in tuned with each other’s feelings.

“I’ve never really interacted with Anastasia, and I feel like I won’t be comfortable with the whole idea of her tutoring Izzy until I get to know her,” Camila said. She wasn’t always fond of people other than their family and friends interacting with their child. She wanted people who were role models for their daughter to be surrounded with.

Lauren nodded. “And I completely understand that, Camz. It was just a suggestion. If you aren’t comfortable with, Anastasia, there’s a lot of other teachers we can hire for Izzy.”

Doctor Briggs smiled internally at the way the couple was communicating. A couple months ago, they were at each other’s throats, and now they were actually sitting down and discussing things that could benefit them as a family. “Effective communication enables you as a couple, to sort out your problems with ease…together.” The therapist said, drawing the couple’s attention back to her. “Being able to communicate effectively, helps to stop pointless arguments which can occur regularly in any relationship.”

Camila and Lauren nodded. They were both aware of the pointless arguments that had been happening throughout the past year between them.

“But before we delve into the session even further, I’ll like to ask about my previous assignment,” Doctor Briggs said. Camila had instantly blushed red. She knew they would have to discuss the topic with Doctor Briggs but she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the topic of sex.

Lauren noticing her wife’s discomfort, she decided to take the reins. “I personally, would like to say that the assignment went well. Even though it was about a year later, I still felt as though we were in tune with each other’s bodies.”

“And how many times after my assignment have the both of you been intimate?”

“Our schedules have gotten busy over these past few weeks, but I’ll like to say that we probably would’ve had sex…five? Six times?” Lauren looked at Camila who nodded in confirmation.

The therapist made a note of the couple’s intimacy. “What about Izzy? How is she doing? A child tends to notice the changes between their parents’ relationships, so has she seemed any different now?”

Camila thought about it for a moment before she answered. “Izzy seems very…chill, for the lack of a better word. She’s always hanging around us, and when she is, she seems so happy. I catch her from time to time looking at Lauren and I, especially these last few days and there’s this gleam of happiness in her eyes, and I as her mother, couldn’t be happier.”

“Camila is right,” Lauren agreed. “We do talk about Camila having to go to work very soon and she does seem sad about having to say goodbye especially after having her around for so long, but Izzy understands.”

Doctor Briggs nodded. “Have you spoken to Izzy about moving?” The couple shook her their heads 'no’. “Do you think she’ll be happy to pack everything up and go? Or would she miss her home?”

“I know that she’ll miss here. Miami is our home. Ever since I moved from Argentina to here, it’s always been Miami. I met Lauren here and Izzy was born here. Miami is who we are,” Camila said, while her wife nodded in agreement. The thought of moving had never crossed their minds before. They would always travel the world, but their hearts would always be in Miami, that’s where they always came back home to.

Home sweet home.

“And I know she’ll miss the people she met along the way here, but our friends, they’re family and they won’t abandon her nor us,” Lauren smiled at the thought of their friends. It was true that no matter where the Jauregui - Cabellos went, the gang would always be there not even a footstep behind. “I think it’s more of the memories that would hurt upon leaving these place.”

Camila smiled sadly. “Yeah. But we’ll make new memories. It’s what we do best.”

“I just can’t bear to be away from you for so long anymore, Camz,” Lauren whispered out. “I’ll do anything just to be near you, even if I have to wait all day for you to come home to me, it’s better than being in a completely different state. And I know that when you start tour that’s going to be another issue, but it’s always been my dream to travel the world and do photography.”

Camila frowned a bit at her wife’s words. She had made it clear that it was always hard to leave her family behind to go out there and fulfill her dreams. It took every ounce of her not to turn around in that airport and run back into Lauren’s awaiting arms. But she didn’t want to disappoint her fans, to disappoint her family and most importantly…herself.

“It’s always been my dream to travel the world…but with you, Amor,” Camila took Lauren’s hand and intertwined their fingers together. “And with Izzy too. I know for a child it’s going to be difficult and it won’t seem like a stable environment, but Izzy is years wiser than her age, and I know it won’t affect her as long as she has us with her.”

“Izzy’s idea of stability stems from having both parents around,” Doctor Briggs said. “And from what I’ve noticed about her, on both occasions we’ve interacted is that she is happier with the both of you. Having a stable home is key, but what’s also important is having two parents who love each other and give that love to their child as well.”

Izzy’s home was her parents.

A home is where there’s love, where memories reside, where friends and family are always welcomed and laughter is never short. That’s a home.

So even if the couple were to move, they weren’t leaving their home behind, they were going to make a new one. Maybe an even better one.

“A home is not a place but rather a feeling,” Doctor Briggs said. “You both seem to be so attached to here, but you’re willing to move to make your relationship work. It’s a huge step…but that’s a huge step in the right direction.” She placed her notepad on the table and looked at the couple. “Our session today was about communication, and from what I gathered during the past hour, is that you both as a couple, do have some things to improve, but your communication has come a long way.”

Camila and Lauren looked at each other, lovingly with smiles on their faces. They never thought that going to therapy was actually going to work. But the thing is, not everyone who goes to therapy get the help that they need. Doctor Chelsea Briggs was only there to guide the couple along the right path, had they chose not to listen to her, not to let each other in, then their relationship would’ve been no more.

You can seek help, but you have to allow yourself to receive the help as well.

Camila brought her wife’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “I love you, Lauren. I love you so fucking much.”

Someday someone is going to look at you, with a gleam in their eyes that you’ve never seen before with anyone that you’ve ever been with. They’re going to look at you and a small smile would find its way on their lips until it grows and their cheeks begin to hurt from smiling so much. They’re going to look at you like you’re everything they’ve been searching for their entire lives.

Wait for it.

Don’t settle.

I hope you know that you deserve it all. The most purest, most honest, the best and most beautiful type of love there is in the world. Not only to be loved by someone, everyone but also to be loved by yourself. To be able to look at yourself in the mirror, with a smile on your face, and the happiness and joy that you feel in your heart, radiating through your eyes, and think “I’m exactly who I am meant to be.”

You deserve the nicest and most caring people to walk into your heart and cherish it for all of eternity.

You deserve it all, you know.

The whole world.

And you know what?

You should never forget that.

People are going to tell you to stop looking for a spark. Stop looking for the butterflies and that tingling sensation you feel whenever they touch you. They’re going to tell you to settle for stability and companionship.

But I want you to picture this…

Can you see yourself twenty, thirty, forty years from now, sitting at the dinner table and only talking about how your day was? About how crazy the weather is, when it’s thirty three degrees Celsius out?mi

Or picture this, you’re out with the love of your life messing around in the supermarket, racing the grocery carts through the aisles, teasing that doesn’t stop, the sarcasm that doesn’t go unnoticed.

There needs to be chemistry, and that’s not something that you can force, it’s just happens naturally.

Sure, being financially stable is swell, but being in love? That’s literally one of the best, and don’t get me wrong, the most painful feeling out there, but it’s sure as hell worth it in the end.

Camila and Lauren?

They didn’t settle for anything remotely far from an incredible love story. Sure, just like any other couple, they had their ups and downs, but the thing about them, is that they didn’t stay down. They picked themselves back up and tried and tried to get back to where they used to be.

The process involved in mending a broken heart is not an easy one nor does it happen quickly, but with the right steps, and with forgiveness, you’ll be on the right path to your healing.

“I love you too,” Lauren brought Camila’s hand to her lips and placed a kiss on it in return. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make our relationship work. To love you the way you deserve to be loved. Whatever it takes.”

When you choose a life partner, you’re not just choosing someone to have sex with and someone who loves you and you, them. You’re choosing a lot of things. You’re choosing someone who’s going to influence your kids. You’re choosing your eating buddy for about 15,000 meals or possibly even more. You’re choosing your travel companion; not just around the world, but on simple grocery runs or even dropping your kids off to school. You’re choosing a support system. An unofficial but official therapist, and you’re choosing someone whose day you’ll hear about 15,000 thousand times.

It’s not just a life partner.

“It takes two people to have a relationship,” Doctor Briggs continued as she looked at her clients. “and each person has different communication needs and styles. Couples need to find different ways of communicating that will suit their relationship.” Chelsea looked at Camila. “When you’re angry, what do you prefer Camila? Do you prefer to be left alone until you’ve calmed down, or for Lauren to try until she gets you to open up about what got you mad in the first place?”

“I…um…” Camila stuttered. She knew that her anger had always gotten the best of her, and even though she had the biggest heart and loved Lauren with every fibre of her being, sometimes she wasn’t the best person to be around when she was angry. “I prefer to be left alone. I love you, amor, and I know you know that,” she looked at her wife. “But when I’m angry, I can’t be loving and I can’t be rational. I lash out and I feel like the best thing for you is to leave me alone.”

Lauren nodded in understanding.

“And Lauren?” Doctor Briggs directed the question to the photographer. “And when you’re angry, what do you feel like is the best thing to do?”

“I like to talk things out,” Lauren said. “I don’t like arguing and fighting, and I just feel like the quicker we solve our issues, the better it is for us as a couple.”

Doctor Briggs nodded. “This right here is an example as to what I meant when couples can have different means of communication. Camila would rather be left alone rather than talking things out on you, Lauren because some of the things she might say, may end up hurting your feelings. You both need to understand that as humans, you have different needs, and you feel differently towards things.”

What do you do when someone stops loving?

You let them leave. No matter how much it kills you, how much you want to chase after them, you let them leave.

Because what’s the point of wanting someone who doesn’t want you?

What’s the point of wanting to be with someone who doesn’t want to sit and try to work things out with you?

“So even if it takes an hour, or two, after you’ve calmed down,” Chelsea addressed Camila, “You need to communicate clearly with your partner, to avoid misunderstandings that may cause hurt, anger, resentment or confusion.”

Doctor Briggs went on to list many things to help improve the couple’s communication.

They needed to set aside time to talk without interruption, to their partner about their feelings and misunderstandings.

They needed to think about what they had to say. Not just blurt things out randomly. But it was better to be able to be vocal about what was bothering them and why, and what they wanted to change.

They needed to be clear. so that their partner understands and receives the message accurately. Talk about what is happening and how it’s affecting them.

“A key factor to communication is using the 'I’ statements, such as; 'I want’ or 'I feel’,” the therapist told the couple. “I realised that during today’s session, you both have been using that, therefore it voices your opinions and feelings towards a particular topic.”

When communicating, you need to be aware of your tone of voice. Sometimes your partner may feel as though you’re attacking them if you’re being loud. This may cause them to shut down and not say anything, or they may retaliate and the issue may never get solved.

'Happy wife, happy life’ isn’t an accurate saying. Both of the parties in a relationship feelings should matter. Negotiate and remember that you don’t have to be right all the time. If the issue that you may be having isn’t all that important, or it’s trivial, sometimes the best thing to do is let it go, rather than risk your relationship.

“And most importantly,” Chelsea said in finality. “Avoid using the silent treatment. The only way to work out your differences is by speaking.”

Learn to understand each other rather than defeat each other.

“I want the both of you to face one another,” Doctor Briggs instructed the couple who did as they were told. “We are going to do a little exercise. I want you to look each other in the eyes and say three things you don’t like about each other and three things that you love about each other.”

They seemed a bit skeptical about this but they’ve made huge strides in their relationship, this shouldn’t affect them too badly.

Besides, Camila knew just how annoying she was.

“Camila? Why don’t you start?”

The brunette nodded slowly. “I um..three things I don’t like about you. Hm, hm, hm,” Camila pretended to think. “I don’t like how you leave your car parked in the driveway, and when it’s time for me to get out, it’s hard. You know I can’t drive, Lauren!” The brunette pouted. It had always been a task for the woman to drive and the fact that her wife made it even more difficult for her, annoyed her.

Lauren tried to hide her smirk, but she nodded in understanding nonetheless. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“I don’t like how you snore.”

“I don’t snore!” Lauren protested.

Camila rolled her eyes. “Well not every day, but when you come home after spending all day at work you snore. And I don’t like it.”

Her wife sighed heavily. “Okay, I get it.”

“And..I..” Camila seemed a bit hesitant about saying this but she needed to get it off her chest. “I don’t like it when you give in to Izzy. She’s barely five and she has never heard the word 'no’ from you. I get that you love her and I do too, but sometimes Izzy needs to understand that she cannot have everything that she wants.”

Camila tried to look away but Lauren held her face in place to look at her. “I understand where you’re coming from, Camz. It’s just, I want to keep her happy and I feel like giving her whatever she wants will make her happy.”

“I know that, but we’re not trying to spoil her and make her think that this is how life is,” Camila said. “She’s going to have everything that she needs, but she can’t get everything that she wants.”

Doctor Briggs then instructed Lauren to go ahead with what she dislikes about her wife.

“I don’t like how you’re so…” Lauren made random hand gestures. “Messy. You leave things in the worst possible places and I always find myself tripping over your shoes. Or when I go to the bathroom, you have your makeup scattered on the counters. It’s annoying.”

Camila sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Now see, if we had a maid, you wouldn’t have been complaining because she would’ve been cleaning up after me!”

What a child.

“Then for you to accuse me of fucking the maid?” Lauren scoffed.

“Well I’d hire an ugly, old maid!” Camila retorted.

Lauren shook her head and laughed. “You’re something else, Camz.” Her wife smiled playfully at her. “I don’t like how you are when you’re on tour. You just I don’t know…disappear on me and text back hours later,” she mumbled. “I know you’re busy and I understand that, but I can’t help but feel ignored and abandoned when you do that. I just think that it’ll calm my thoughts if you just told me that you were going to be busy.”

Once Camila saw the sadness in her wife’s eyes, she regretted just randomly leaving without telling her. There was always a fear that Camila was going to leave her, and Lauren’s insecurities always got the better of her.

“I understand, baby,” Camila caressed her wife’s cheek. “I promise, I’ll let you know when I get busy and not just leave you in the dark.”

Doctor Briggs interrupted the couple to ask a question. “Lauren, would you trust your partner if she doesn’t remain in contact with you? And vice versa, Camila?”

The couple didn’t take any lengthy period to answer the question. They trust each other, but the issue is that, they’ll end up missing each other. Talking 24/7 when you’re busy is difficult, but as long as there’s trust and communication going on in the relationship, there won’t be any issues.

“Lastly, I dislike how hard you are on yourself when it comes to you being Izzy’s mother,” Lauren looked Camila in the eyes. “You’re not a horrible mother. Maybe you just needed some help and to spend sometime with Izzy and to develop a bond, but you’re not a bad mother. Izzy loves you so much, I hope you know that.”

Doctor Briggs made the occasional note about the couple, and if they had been truthful, the couple didn’t necessarily dislike anything that bad about each other.

“Now, Camila, why don’t you tell Lauren three things you love her?”

Camila smiled fondly at her wife. There were so many things that she loved about the woman before her, and only choosing three things about her, was going to prove to be a task.

“I love how much you love me,” the brunette told her wife. “I love how even when I feel like it’s impossible to love me, you’re right there loving me nonetheless.”

There isn’t anything on this planet that Lauren wouldn’t have done for Camila.

“I love how you’re driven. I love how passionate you get about something that inspires you. I love how you’re vocal about the many injustices that people face on a day to day basis and you portray it in your work.”

Camila would choose Lauren over anyone.

“Lastly, I love how much you make me love life,” Camila said. “I love how when I’m with you, watching paint dry can be so fucking entertaining.” This caused Lauren to laugh because they had done this one day when they repainted Izzy’s bedroom. They sat on the floor, passing a bottle of wine back and forth, watching the paint dry.

“And Lauren?” Doctor Briggs instructed for the photographer to tell her wife what she loves about her.

Lauren smiled. “I love how you’re passionate about your music. I know these past few months or even years, I made you believe that I wasn’t your biggest fan, but my god, Camila, your music is amazing. Whenever anyone listens to it, they can feel just about every ounce of emotion that you pour into it.”

To Lauren, Camila was worth finding. Worth knowing. She was worth loving.

“I love how you interact with Izzy. I love how you’re so concerned about her feelings that you won’t do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

It brought Lauren back to their last Halloween when Camila wanted to visit a haunted house with her family, but when she saw the fear on her daughter’s face she decided against it.

And that was just one out of many times Camila decided against hurting her daughter’s feelings. She had something planned that she wanted to do for Izzy, to bring her into 'her world’ but it was a secret for now.

“And lastly, mi vida, I love how you never cease to make a smile grace my lips,” Camila looked away from her wife for a moment smiling to herself. Lauren gently turned her head back so she can gaze into Camila’s beautiful brown eyes. “I love how my only truest form of happiness can come from you.”

Do not fall in love with someone who doesn’t cherish the smallest parts of you. Because that’s what makes you…you. And if they can’t love that, do they even love you at all?

I know that sometimes things get hard and it seems as though the person never truly loved you to begin with, but true love never leaves. It might get lost temporarily but it never leaves. Lost in confusion, pride and misunderstandings but being lost doesn’t mean it’s the end.

Sometimes love needs to take a step back to breathe before it finds its way back home again.

Doctor Briggs clasped her hands together happily. As the couple pulled away from a hug, the emotions being on an all time high after what had been said. “Before the session ends, I have an assignment for the both of you. Date night. Each of you have to plan a romantic date for your partner. I don’t care how it’s done, where or when; it has to be between now and our next session three weeks from now.”

The couple nodded. Camila internally fist pumped because she had been planning something special for them to do as a family.

“You can go all out or do something sweet and simple,” Doctor Briggs placed her clipboard on the table and stood. “It’s all up to you.”

*** Wattpad: Commander_Camren

#UPDATE #series #g!p #camren #angst drama #family #humour #romance fluff #submission #Why Did I Get Married

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