#so it was pretty much destiny for him to voice yet another one of my Very Normal faves

[dbphantom]

sometimes i rewatch dressrosa just to appreciate how unhinged sabo gets in this scene

[hell-bats]

earth 42!miles x gn!reader

summary: miles is very aware you love making bracelets, you would always have tons on your wrist with all sorts of beads and charms, you left a few at his house so he stops by to give them back, somehow you rope him into making some with you.

extra: mostly fluff, light swearing, reader listens to destiny’s child, reader is mean (playfully)

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notes: reader is black to me but anyone can read, and he’s been plaguing my brain as of recent it’s insane

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“I can’t believe you got me doin this” miles says his brows furrowed as he’s trying to put the thread through the shiny black bead.

he originally came by to drop off the multiple bracelets you left all over his room, everytime he sees you, you always got a row of them on your wrist, even one for every occasion, one of every color, every type of bead, any charm you can think of, it was impossible to find a variation you didn’t have.

now here he was, sitting on the carpet of your bedroom, criss-cross apple sauce with destiny’s child playing from your phone, the window slightly open for a slight breeze to blow in, as he’s attempting to a bracelet of his own.

“you need help over there?” you ask, holding back a smirk at his struggling, this comes easy to you, you’re on your fourth bracelet by now and it’s been only 15 minutes.

“nah I got it, just gimmie a sec” he says squinting as the thread misses the hole of the bead, his hands slightly trembling as he’s concentrated. you let out a laugh and scoot over closer to him, you can feel his warm body radiating and the smell of his cologne he always wears which made a fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

“I told you I got it” he says protesting, despite him clearly struggling. “ boy if you don’t let me help you..” you say rolling your eyes and taking it from him, you grab the bead and swiftly yet smoothly slide it on the thread, tying off the end to start it off for him. “see, wasn’t that easier?” you say with a smile looking over at him, inches away from his face.

he shrugs, “damn, you good with your hands I see” he says slyly, he was speaking practically in your ear, before getting another bead, slightly getting the hang of it but barely, this boy was gonna be the death of you.

��I see that you aren’t” you say back teasingly, you’re on your last bead getting ready to tie the knot to finish it, this would be your fifth bracelet. “ you tryna bet on that?” he says smirking at you, giving that smug smile he loves to do knowing the effect it has.

“you must want me to throw you out?” you say, trying to ignore him, he gives a chuckle before shaking his head lightly and his eyes practically piercing through you the way he’s staring at you, he shifts the way he’s sitting “you know you love me, but seriously.. this a real talent you got, don’t lose it” he says, his voice laced with sweetness and playfulness to it.

“might have to keep some of these too” he says eyeing the extra bracelets you have laying around on the carpet along with some of the variety of charms, picking one up that had a dark crimson red color to it, each had their own look, he didn’t mind, it’s the fact they were yours,your creations that he loved so much and he loved seeing how happy it makes you.

“you can get a few, don’t break them cause I ain’t gonna make you more” you say sounding pretty serious as you give him a look narrowing your eyes.

he hums at that before speaking “the ones still lying around my room you made, begs to differ but it’s ight” he says with a small smile before getting up and flicking your forehead lightly to look at your collection of bracelets, definitely taking more then what he came with.

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end of this little drabble 😭🫶🏾, if you did make him a bunch he’d make sure to wear every single one, not at once but he’d switch through them and would definitely say you made em if someone asked.

[dotster001]

Message in a Bottle

Summary: Floyd x gn!reader Floyd has been your best friend through all your adventures, and you always knew he would end up back under the sea. But now that Jade has decided to stay above ground...

A/N: this is loosely based on this song, which plays at work constantly 😂

You hadn't seen Floyd in two months. Him being in his fourth year internship was definitely hard. You missed him every damn day, and he didn't always remember to text you.

But here you were, the night before his graduation, sitting with your feet in the lake, throwing rocks like old times. You'd both used up all your news, and now were just sitting quietly together, throwing rocks.

Eventually, you couldn't hold back the question anymore. The one you'd both avoided discussing.

"So, what are your plans for next year?"

You looked at him out the corner of your eye, as he grabbed another rock, and threw it, pointedly staring at the lake.

"Jade's stayin' on land. He wants to keep doing research."

"Mhmm," you hummed, hoping to encourage him to continue.

He sighed heavily, leaning back on his palms, as he turned to you.

"I was always set to inherit the family business anyways, but with Jade stayin' here…it'll be just me. So, my parents want me to go home and begin training."

He stared at you, seemingly waiting for something.

Something you knew that you shouldn't give, for both your sakes.

"That's nice. I'm sure you'll do great."

His eyes flickered, and he looked back at the lake, splashing the water with one of his feet.

"Yeah," he said halfheartedly.

You both said nothing, the silence saying more than words could.

"When do you leave?" You choked out, your heart cracking with the question.

"Right after graduation. Pops is getting old, and he wants his people to start respecting me," he threw another rock, this one much more forceful, making you wince.

"Would you…" he started but trailed off at the end, the two of you holding your breath.

He abruptly hopped up.

"I'm bored, let's go to the party Azul's throwing!" He grinned excitedly, as he yanked you to your feet, pulling you after him. Both of you laughed hysterically, completely forgetting the shoes you'd left by the lake.

….

"So, has Floyd told you yet?" Jade asked, as he sipped a glittering purple drink.

The two of you stood at the back of the lounge, sipping drinks, as you watched Floyd entertaining a crowd of soon to be graduates with his dance skills.

"That he's taking over the business? Yeah," you said, trying to keep the sadness out of your voice.

"It's not like you'll never see him," Jade said with a smirk.

"He made it pretty clear to me a year ago that he'd be basically stuck in the sea. Tomorrow might be the last time I see him. Ever."

Jade swirled his drink, not making eye contact, as he thoughtfully asked, "Have you told him?"

"Told him what?" You snapped, tired of Jade's mind games.

"That you love him, of course, fu fu fu."

Your eyes flickered to Floyd's just in time for him to look over and wave at you, playfully.

"I don't-"

"Lying to me is futile, Y/N. My entire job as Azul's voice housewarden is to be the best at getting information."

"How about you go under the sea, and stay there forever!" You snapped, leading his infuriating smirk to deepen.

"That would definitely make you happy, wouldn't it? Unfortunately, I can't do that, and Floyd must go home. What are you going to do about it?"

You stared at Floyd, watching as he picked up Epel, a poor unfortunate bystander, and started bench pressing him, to the applause of his enthralled audience, and the curses of Epel.

Your eyes burned, and your throat choked up, as you whispered, "Nothing."

Jade choked on his drink, and looked at you with wide eyes.

"Sorry?"

You drained your drink, and handed him the empty glass, turning on your heel and leaving the lounge.

This was his destiny. He'd always been forthright with you about that. You were just some magic-less human who'd appeared in his life out of nowhere. There was so much the both of you could say…

But, deep down, you knew you'd just hold him back.

….

"So, this is it, huh?" You asked softly.

Floyd stood in front of you, holding his degree in one hand, fiddling with his robes with the other.

"Is it?" He genuinely seemed distressed at your question. "Aren't you coming to the after party?"

You had a lot of friends graduating this year, but the idea of having to see Floyd for one more second hurt too much for your heart to handle. Your friends would just have to deal.

"No, I made plans, I'm sorry," you said.

He stared at you, his eyes hollow. You looked over his shoulder, an attempt to fight the stinging in your eyes.

"Wow, okay, gonna be like that, huh?" He laughed self deprecatingly. "Can I at least squeeze ya, before I never see you again?"

It wasn't like Floyd to ask permission. He was more of a ask for forgiveness kind of guy. You wordlessly opened your arms, not trusting yourself to speak.He rushed in, holding you firmly, but not too tight, a hand on the back of your head, gently pressing your face to his chest.

"Write to me, will ya Shrimpy?" He whispered.

You snorted, "I'm not magic, remember? Any letter I write will get wet and torn to a million pieces. Besides, it's not exactly like you have an address, at least not one I could use and feel safe that your 'competitors' won't try and find you"

"Put it in a bottle. Chuck it in the ocean. I'll get it eventually," he laughed, nuzzling the top of your head.

You could have stood like that forever with him. The scent of his cologne, and his natural sea air scent eased your aching heart, even just a little bit. 

"Floyd, we have a schedule to keep," The booming voice of Mr. Leech filled your ears, wrecking the illusion. Floyd groaned and let you go.

"Don't forget to write. You promised, remember?" He said it threateningly. Like he had to threaten you. You nodded, and he cupped your cheeks, whipping a tear you couldn't hold back away, with a gentle stroke of his thumb.

Mr. Leech placed a hand on his back, and escorted him out, making a short stop to collect Jade.

You watched even after they made it out of the door. And then you couldn't hold back anymore.

….

He'd be gone by now.

You sat at the edge of the lake, your feet in the water, half heartedly throwing rocks.

Would he throw rocks by himself now? Was there even an equivalent to it under the sea?

Maybe he'd find someone else to throw rocks with…

You sighed, glumly, and kicked some water up. You laid down, and tried to rest your eyes. You'd gotten little sleep last night, only able to think of his arms around you.

Even now, it was plaguing you. Would he find someone else to wrap in his arms like that?

You sat up suddenly. You couldn't let things end this way.

You ran into Ramshackle, and quickly found a pen and a piece of paper. You scrawled your note, and rushed towards Heartslaybul.

Deuce and Ace would still be there, because they had to help with final cleanup. Conveniently, you bumped right into Deuce as you stepped into the mirror, making him splash you with the soda he was holding.

"Y/N! What-"

"I need this!" You grabbed the bottle, and chugged what was left, before sticking your note in it.

"When do you leave?" You asked, trying to clear the headrush that consuming soda so quickly gave you.

"I was going to head out in an hour. Why, what's wrong?" 

"I need a ride to the beach?"

"Wha-" 

"Please, Deuce," you pleaded, and his face softened.

"Alright."

Moments later, you were on his light cycle, and he had rushed you to the shore.

"How long do you need?" He asked.

"I'll be quick," all you had to do was chuck the bottle. He promised it would get to him someday. It was his own fault if "someday" never came.

Deuce nodded, and waited on his bike. You walked to the water, and breathed deeply. Sevens, why did it have to smell like him. It wasn't fair to your heart.

You gingerly held the bottle, and said a silent prayer to the Sea Witch, hoping her benevolence, and her ties to the sea, would help you, if nothing else. You threw the bottle as hard as you could, and only watched long enough to see it land in the water.

You exhaled an anxious breath, and turned on your heel.

You'd made it two steps when you heard a splash.

"Shrimpy!!!!" 

In shock, you turned, and saw Floyd waving the bottle over his head. When he saw he had your attention, he rushed forward, beginning his transformation to human before he had even fully reached the land.

He ran at you, swooping you up, and spinning you around.

"The actual fuck, Y/N? Why couldn't you have just told me you loved me yesterday?" He said, his tone trying to convey irritation, but his joyous laughter taking all the bite from it.

By now you were soaked from Floyd and his sobbing wet hair and body…and you noticed that in his excitement he'd forgotten something.

"Floyd! Where are your clothes?"

"For sevens sake! Clothes are a land dweller concept! And who the fuck cares, anyway! My shrimpy loves me," he cupped your face, his eyes and his grin so tender it was overwhelming.

"You were really gonna let me be alone forever, huh?" He whispered, his eyes tearing up.

"I figured you could move on," you whispered, your own tears rising.

"Not from you," his voice cracked. "I'm gonna have to punish you for making me wait. Maybe I'll make you be my pillow for a week…dunno, doesn't matter. What does matter, though, is" he took both your hands in his, and looked deep into your eyes.

"Come with me."

"I didn't graduate, remember?" You felt the sadness coming back.

"No, but you have your internship this year. Do it at the museum, and live with me. Then when you graduate we can get married and…."

"Slow down! We're not even dating yet!" You said, laughing in disbelief.

"I don't care! Dating is boring, I'd rather be your husband," he muttered as he swept you back up in a hug. "So come with me, and don't you dare say no."

He started to walk back towards the water, you still wrapped in a hug, and you shouted, "Wait, right now!?"

"When else?" 

"I can't breathe under water!"

He groaned, and opened his mouth to say something, when,

"Y/N is everything okay? You've been taking for- oh sevens! Floyd, what the fuck man, where are your clothes?" Deuce shouted.

Floyd started to make some vulgar jokes, while Deuce had a complete meltdown. You took the moment to snuggle back into Floyd, to breathe in his scent, and just feel full for the first time in a long time.

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll

[onlyjaeyun]

idk if you do requests, but could we get a pt.2 to the daddy? sorry sunghoong text fic where they have that talk he was texting abt ? you can disregard this if you dont want to do it, i totally understand 💕

this is the ask nonie's referring to btw!

— cw: dvddy kink, light dd/lg dynamics, implied phone s3x

honestly i think if there's one thing about sunghoon is the fact he's very open when it comes to you. he trusts you and knows he can always talk to you about whatever's on his mind, it doesn't matter what it's about, if he feels like talking to you about it (which is most of the time) he does not hesitate to do so.

however, kink talks aren't on the list of daily things to talk about, so he's not quite sure how to bring it up. every since you texted him that first "daddy?" sunghoon's been struggling to think about anything but you and the thought of hearing you actually use that title for him.

hoon never really expected himself to be into it because he simply never considered you to actually have a thing for it, so he's not really sure if you are, since you were actually just messing with him.

he attentively listens to your cute little story about your day with your best friend, loving the way you go into detail about basically everything, even which flavour of boba you had, which is why he hates himself for wanting to bring your texts from earlier up so bad.

once you're done, hoon's determined to ease you into it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, but the mere possibility of you being into it just as much as he is, drives him insane. he's been rock hard the whole day and the fact this all happened when he's literally away from you for the first time for this long feels like destiny's laughing at him.

"hoonie? are you there? or did you fall asleep on me again?", you chuckle and sunghoon almost loses himself in the sweet tone of your voice; he can't stop thinking about how good you sound when you cum for him.

"i'm here, baby", he replies calmly, adjusting his boxers in hopes of somehow getting rid of his raging hard on, yet fails miserably and hisses the second he accidentally nudges the tip with his hand, "got lost in my thoughts, that's it."

"you sound tired, my love, do you wanna head to sleep?"

"no", he's way too quick with his response, eliciting another row of chuckles from you and this time sunghoon simply can't stop the words from spilling out.

"are you into it?" he asks and hates how a beat of absolute silence follows, because it lets him know you're more than aware what he's referring to and he feels a weird tightness spreading in his chest in response to your lack of.

"are you into it, sunghoon?" is the only thing you reply and are actually surprised to hear the sound of a deep grunt from the other line, the noise instantly shooting a jolt of arousal through your body.

"i never thought i would be", your boyfriend mumbles and you feel excitement fill your chest, "but i – fuck, baby i want it so bad."

the moment the profanity falls past your usually so composed boyfriend's lips, you let out the breath you didn't realise you were holding in and subconsciously start pressing your thighs together.

"you want me to call you daddy?"

there's not a lot you expected to hear in response to your question, yet nothing could have prepared you for the deep groan filling your ears.

"yes, baby", sunghoon's lost every bit of patience he had left, fingers firmly wrapped around his length, stroking himself to the thought of your perfect body, your sweet voice and the feeling of your pretty cunt the only thing on his mind.

"i want it, too", you whisper shyly, sighing softly when you finally push your pj shorts down your legs to expose your drenched cunt to the cold air in your room, "have been thinking about it for so long."

"fuck, angel girl, you're going to drive me crazy", sunghoon's voice is now raspy and strained, the firm sounds of his hand meeting his hips as he fucks his fist like a man gone mad easily sending chills down your body, "be a good girl for daddy and cum with me, yeah? i need it so bad, baby."

and how could you deny a reaquest this sweet, right?

[doveypink]

between comfort and chaos [xiao]

summary: xiao decides to change, starting with you. word count: 0.7k warnings: gn!reader, spoilers for perilous trail quest, hurt/comfort, confession. a/n: i’m not immune to xiao angst </3 but this is pretty soft so i hope it makes you feel less sad after the event :,) + title is from ceilings by lizzy mcalpine!

The Wangshu Inn is just as quiet as it usually is this time of night, when the fireflies begin to glow and the crickets chirp their song. You’re standing on the balcony, your arms propped up on the railing while you watch the world fall under its midnight spell. Sleep has evaded you tonight, kept awake by worries in your heart.

Something stirs in your chest at the very moment you begin to recall what’s keeping you up. Almost as if by a sixth sense, you feel the presence of another behind you and call out casually: “So you’re finally back, huh? Took you long enough.”

Xiao pads towards you, catlike in his graceful silence, before he stands near you by the railing. You peer at him from the corner of your eyes while he removes his mask. There’s a pensive look on his face that makes you fully turn towards the yaksha. Your voice softens with sincerity. “Hey, did something happen?”

You knew the gist of Xiao’s plan: to explore the Chasm for clues pertaining to his former comrade’s fate. It was obvious when he explained it to you before his departure that this was a serious endeavor (as if anything with him isn’t serious); even so, you’re aware that this mission was something personal to him. When it comes to his life as a yaksha, you can’t say you know much more than anyone else. He hides a great deal of his past from you despite your years of friendship; you could never force him to tell you about such things, not when you can feel the hole in his heart, but it troubles you nonetheless. Even now, you don’t expect him to give you a clear answer, if anything at all.

This time, Xiao surprises you.

“He never made it out.”

The intensity of his gaze strikes you. You can only manage to respond with a whispered, “Oh.”

The silence that follows is heavy; it settles like snow around you both. There are no words you can say to soothe his troubles. There is nothing you could do at this moment to lift the centuries of pain in his heart.

You reach for his hand instinctively. You half expect him to flinch or turn you away, but the yaksha astonishes you once more by allowing you to slide your palm against his own. His hands are calloused, rough and scarred from centuries of fighting, yet he holds your hand as though he’s touching fine china. When Xiao squeezes your hand slightly, your heart aches.

There are no words to soothe his troubles, but this is enough.

The silence stretches on for what may be an eternity before Xiao speaks again. “I have come to understand something after my mission,” he begins. “I… have been too harsh to this world. To its people, especially. I have known for all of my existence that I am fated to lead a life of misery. That is the path of a yaksha, and I do not fear it. But even so… Even though I know my destiny…,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening. “I may never have peace, but the others — the yaksha, my family — would not want me to live without having experienced the joys of this world. My brothers and sisters may not have had enough time to live through such things, but I do.”

Xiao looks to you, a clarity in his golden eyes that you have never seen before. “You,” he breathes, “are a joy that I refuse to neglect.”

Your heart is in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. “So stay,” you whisper. “Stay with me as long as you’d like.”

Your fingers interlock with Xiao’s, a rare smile gracing his features. “Gladly.”

For the first time in his life, Xiao allows himself to forget the weight of his destiny. He allows himself to have this one corner of the world to be a little selfish, to hold your hand and not feel ashamed. His debt may harm you, but he recalls the traveler’s words: There will always be someone willing to be by your side.

For the first time in his life, Xiao takes comfort in something human.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Sweet Music Playing in the Dark ( Be Still, My Foolish Heart ) [ part 2 ]

[ part 1 ] { the explanation of what this "fic" series is, is on the first post. And it's longish so i dont wanna clutter every post with it. So I'll just direct y'all to that post. 😊 }

There's a scandal. Steve gets into an altercation with the paparazzi. Like, a full on fist fight with one of them.

It's Jonathan. He'd  been threatening to leak pics of Steve and Nancy together that he'd got from stalking them and like climbing trees outside of the fence around Steve's house. It's a whole THING, in the papers for a few weeks.

Steve and Nancy break up. And then a week later there's another upraor as Nancy is seen with the fucking paparazzi that Steve fought. Even the shittiest gossip mags are like .... "thats pretty fucked up"

So like, most people are on Steve's side. Eddie texts Steve the day after the attack is on tv and asks if he's okay? And then they just kind of, become each other's little support systems. Chrissy and Robin are included. All of them have a group chat now. It's full of everything. Ranging from dumb shit to sweet shit to memes and jokes and all their love.

And then Eddie gets his heart broken. I don't know who by yet... maybe just some guy he'd been seeing who he thought was only seeing him. And then he sees the guy with someone else and confronts him and he tells steve later he said,

"C'mon eddie. You're a touring rock star. You expect me to believe you don't sleep with people after your shows? Yeah right. Stop acting so innocent. And honestly... stop being so clingy."

And Steve is full of rage but pushes it back. Flies to whatever city Eddie is in. Robin and Chrissy go too. And they all just hang with Eddie and the CC boys for awhile while they take a break from touring.

And THAT'S when Eddie writes the song they sing together. Steve has been letting him write. But can't wait to ask him about it anymore. And Eddie goes a little red and is like ...

"its kinda... for the both of us? I'd love for you to sing it with me. If you  want I mean, if you like it. It's.. is that too much?" And Steve smiles and shakes his head. Asks to hear it.

And when Eddie plays a bit of it, shakily, on the piano and sings some for him, Steve's breath catches in his throat as he listens to Eddie's raspy voice. He loves the song. Is honored to sing it with Eddie. And they release a video of the whole fucking song on both their Instagrams and their fans go fucking nuts.

It takes them awhile still after that to get together. But they stay close. With Chrissy and Robin too. And they all heal and Eddie teaches Robin to scream and she loves him. And Chrissy loves Steve. And they all just are a little family.

Chrissy and robin have been together for years. But they support their boys with their whole hearts. Knowing they'll get together eventually. They have to, Robin says, Chrissy agrees, nods, says,

"yeah. It's destiny."

And it is.

[ikeromantic]

Sasuke Appetite 😍

for @aethien11-blog Sasuke feels a bit . . . peckish! Approx. 500 words of Sasuke and a certain kind of hunger. Fluffy sweetness!

If there was one thing Sasuke missed about the modern world, it was the food. Well, that and hot showers and big, soft mattresses. But right now he was pretty sure he’d give his right arm for a bag of chips or an order of french fries. He sighed.

“What was that for?” The chatelaine rolled over to look at him, her sleepy expression creased with slight worry. 

“Nothing.” He smiled as much as he could to reassure her and then kissed the tip of her nose. “Roll back over and I’ll be your big spoon.”

She rubbed the tip of her nose. “Didn’t sound like nothing.” 

He laughed softly and closed his eyes. “I was just thinking. I miss chips.”

Her smile was in her voice as she replied. “Me too. And parfait. And chocolate ice cream. Oooh! And croissants. I wish I’d eaten all of my favorite things one last time before -”

Sasuke felt guilt creep up in his chest. “Sorry. I knew what I was getting into. But you thought you were just out sightseeing.” He felt her fingertips on his cheek. 

“It’s not your fault. The wormhole would have been there either way. I’m just lucky I’ve got a moderately awesome ninja to look after me.”

Though the guilt did not ease completely, a warmth suffused him. It was so strange to think that in the midst of time travel, war, and chaos, he’d found the woman he loved - and that she could love him back. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. 

She scooted closer on the futon and snuggled her head against his chest. “So. Tell me. If you had one last meal to eat before the wormhole, what would it be?”

Sasuke wasn’t thinking about food anymore, really. The unexpected hunger for things he could not have was supplanted by another appetite entirely. He stroked her hair back from her face, his roving hand moving down her neck and shoulder to caress her arm. “Are you sleepy?”

“Not yet,” she lied, blinking up at him.

He laughed softly and pulled her even closer. 

“Ok,” she amended. “I’m a little sleepy. But not that much! Why did you ask?” Her protest was marred by another yawn.

“Did you know that yawning magnifies your cuteness exponentially?” Sasuke leaned down to kiss her forehead, but she turned her face up at just the right moment to catch his lips with her own.

“I did not know that,” she replied when their kiss broke. “But I’m feeling a lot less sleepy now.”

His hand slid down to her hip. “I think my happiness meter is almost maxed out. But . . .”

“But?”

“I’m not sorry to inform you that it’s going to take more than a kiss to satisfy me now. Is it alright if I -” Sasuke tugged the fabric of her loosely wrapped kimono.

“Mmmm. I would like that.” Her hand stroked his chest. 

His love and desire for her only grew. It was an appetite he could never really sate, and that, he thought, was a good thing. He gently pulled her kimono from her shoulders and felt again a certain awe that this was his girlfriend. She was too beautiful and too sweet and it felt sometimes like he’d stolen a destiny that was not his own. 

She looked at him with stars in her eyes. “What now?”

Sasuke grinned. “Hijinks ensue.”

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Candy

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: @peyton-warren tagged me in that fun little 15-minute challenge, and it turned into a Coffee + Cats drabble, heh... Enjoy!

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Word count: 324

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too!

@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @ylva-syverson

Mike learned a valuable lesson that night: you date one (1) stripper in college, and your son of a bitch friends will track her down and get you a private dance for your bachelor party. He’d recognise that perfume anywhere. And the feeling of those tits on his face, dammit. He’d spent many an hour between them.

“Destiny,” he starts, but she shushes him.

“It’s Candy, silly,” she giggles. Fuck that shit...

“Des, Des, Des, stop! I meant your real name,” he blurts out, “your real name is Destiny. It’s me, Mikey.”

“Oh shit.” She stops. Thank fuck, she stops. He was already not looking forward to this ‘baby, don’t get mad’ conversation.

“Can you take the stupid blindfold off? Fuck, I’m gonna kill them.” She does as he asks, not that it helps much, because the lighting in the room is so... Interesting that he still doesn’t see much until his eyes get used to it.

“So, Mike,” Des says, “you a vet yet? And do my eyes deceive me or are you getting married?” She pulls up another chair and sits in front of him.

“Yep and yep,” he grins. “Running the practice with mom, and getting married in a week. Not to my mom, obviously... That came out weird, sorry.”

“Can’t believe it! Mike, married before thirty!” She slaps his thigh playfully, amicably, and he laughs. Truth be told, he doesn’t quite believe it, either. “Come on! I want to see the lucky girl!”

He pulls out his phone and turns it to Des. It’s her, with little Mikey and Big Sy and Nova in her lap. “I have hundreds of these, you’re gonna have to stop me,” he laughs. He isn’t even joking.

“She’s pretty,” Des smiles, “loves the cats... Are they... always on top of her like that?”

Mike’s grin widens as he picks up on the suggestive tone in her voice. “Don’t tell anyone, we’re only about eight weeks in...”

[reikaryu]

this is our destiny ✰ svt jsh

pairing — joshua hong x fem!reader

genre — one-shot, angst, forbidden love

summary — your and joshua’s families were best friends since the start. but ever since the truth was revealed about your occupations, best friends no longer existed.

loosely based off rewrite the stars by zac efron and zendaya

warning(s) — character death, mentions of guns and killing

word count — 1.4k words

author’s note — this was done in a span of one and a half hours so it’s pretty not well done </3 this was also supposed to be very much longer but yeah :,) (update: I may be rewriting this because I’m not satisfied with it)

“Miss YN,” a soft voice whispered from the tiny crack of the open door. You looked up from your book at the mention of your name. “Mr and Mrs Yoon want you in the living room.” The maid continued, then left after you mumbled out an ‘alright’ as an acknowledgement. You marked where you left off using a bookmark and got off your canopy bed, slipping on your fluffy slippers and making your way out of your bedroom, down the spiral staircase, and into the living room.

Your parents were seated on one of the longer couches, facing another pair of what you assumed to be parents, as beside the ‘visitors’ were two young children: one a boy and the other, a girl. You took a seat beside your mother, but left some space for your brother who had just arrived. Now, you were sitting directly opposite the boy who looked almost your age — maybe a year or two older.

You seemed to not notice the ongoing conversation between your father and the other family’s patriarch. That was until you heard your and your brother’s name being called out. “Allow me to introduce my family. This is my wife, Yoon Minyoung,” your father said, gesturing to your mother, “my first-born, Yoon Jeonghan,” he gestured to your brother, “and my second-born, Yoon YN,” alas, he gestured to you.

The other patriarch smiled at you and your three-year-older brother, to which the both of you replied with the same gesture. “My wife, Katherine Hong, my daughter, Joanne Hong, and my son, Joshua Hong,” he spoke with grace as he introduced his family.

──────

“Where’s my book?” you questioned Joshua, giving him a stern look. He replied with a shrug and a poorly-hidden grin on his perfect face. You sighed and turned away, walking in the other direction to search for your book in the study room.

After another thirty minutes of unsuccessful searching, you were starting to tear up. That book was your favourite book by far, and you hadn’t even finished reading it yet. At the sight of your glossy irises, Joshua felt his heart ache and silently left the room, coming back with your book in his hand. He handed it over to you, saying, “It was under your bed. Sorry.” He gave you a sheepish look and pulled you in for a hug, halting your tears from spilling out.

──────

You were literally on the edge of your seat as you watched the game unfold before your eyes. You came here because you wanted to see your school’s team win, though you really only wanted to see Jeonghan and Joshua play. They make a really good match while playing.

Ten more seconds on the clock and both teams were still tied. You took a glance to your left, where Joanne was seated, and you could see her hands rubbing against each other. You watched as Mingyu, a member of your school’s team, passed the ball to Soonyoung, another member. The ball was so close to the goal, and with five more seconds left, you doubted your school’s team could aim so accurately that the incredibly skilled keeper of the rival team would have no chance of blocking it.

But they did. And your team won.

You rushed down the stands and ran toward your brother first. He pulled you in for a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and swinging you around. You were almost as happy as he was. Your grins when he set you down were almost mirroring the latter’s.

“So, tell me, did you watch me or Jeonghan more during the game?” Joshua asked you and Joanne, your brother hitting his arm playfully at the question. “Be honest — I just want to know.” You shared a look with Joanne, then burst out into little fits of laughter.

She was the first one to speak. “I watched you for the majority of the game, and I think I’m correct to say that YN did, too, but for her own brother.” You nodded at her words, taking a sip of your drink. You swore you saw a hint of disappointment in Joshua’s eyes.

──────

“At 22:55 last night, on the twenty-sixth of June, it was revealed that the Yoon family is actually the leading family of the mafia, while the Hong family is the leading family of the secret police, two very well-known organisations that seem to always be at each other’s necks. Evidence has stated that—”

Your father angrily turned off the television, throwing the remote across the room, fury enveloping him. You had never seen your father this mad. “Everyone, start packing!” he shouted to his men, then turned to you, your brother and your mother. “We find them, and we kill them. Do you understand?” The three of you nodded your head and left promptly.

Your head had no room to think of how unlikely it was for your family’s best friend to actually be your rival in the real world of mafias and police. You focused your mind on figuring out where your target might be and kill him off. Luckily, he was only taking a breather on a nearby apartment building — no doubt a disguise for one of the secret police’s bases underground.

“Hey, babe,” he said from where he was, leaning over the railings of the rooftop. “How did you find me so quick?” You knew he was trying to buy himself time.

Your hand furled and unfurled around the pistol’s handle, and you made the difficult decision of fastening it on your belt. You strided over to him, taking your place on his left. “YN, you don’t have to do this—”

“I do.” Your reply was stiff, and you did not allow yourself to look him in the eye, even when you felt him turn to face you.

But he persisted, “No, you don’t. You don’t have to listen to your father. We can run — run to a place where no one knows us. Somewhere we can live the life we’ve always wanted. A life where I can start a family with you, without caring about being outed.” He grabbed your hands and forced you to face him. You saw the tears glistening in his eyes.

“Yes, Joshua, I do. I have to listen to my father and we absolutely cannot run from this. My parents will get to us before we get the chance to board a plane, and there is no such place where no one will recognise us and report us to my parents. We have to live with this. We can’t change our fate.” Your voice almost betrayed you as you spoke the painful words of truth.

Joshua scoffed, eyes detached from yours for a split second. “So you’re telling me that you can live with me being dead? That you can live with the guilt of killing your beloved? I don’t think I could, if I were you.”

“But you’re not me,” you retorted, pulling your hands away from him to grab his shoulders. “Josh, listen. If I don’t kill you by tonight, my parents won’t do it themselves. They’ll torture you; torture us. They’ll make me suffer for not completing my mission. That is the harsh reality. You need to understand that there’s no going back. I never had a choice in the first place.” You shook him hard to knock some sense into him, but he didn’t want to accept it.

He shook his head. “Your parents can decide your life, but they can’t decide mine. I can sign a truce with your family. I can ask my parents to retire and we won’t interfere with your work ever again. We can even join your mafia and help you out. That way we can still be together.”

You wanted to cry. He was so insistent on changing everything. He didn’t even know that his parents were probably already dead by now. “Josh, my love … I’m so sorry for this,” you whispered and pressed your lips against his. You wanted to savour the lasting moment, because this would be the last time you would share a kiss with your first and last love. You felt him kiss back, and your tears streamed down your cheeks as you thought about how the feeling of your lips would be the last thought of his before he died.

Your hand slowly slipped down his arm to the pistol fastened on your belt. In a swift motion, it was off your waist and the trigger was pulled. You kept your lips against his as one of his hands pressed against his new bullet wound. You felt your tears mix with his as he went limp against you. You settled him down gently on the rooftop ground and pressed one last kiss to the backside of his hand.

“I love you, Joshua. I’m sorry.”

reblogs are appreciated ! ♡

taglist — @hyeunfae

[ gen. masterlist | svt masterlist ]

[usagimen]

Valentine's Day Application

Name: Amon Koutarou Age: 32 Do you like to cuddle?: "… Only with you, bunny. I like being close to you and holding you in my arms. Think we've already established that early on, but I'm more than happy to offer you plenty of evidence to prove my case." Can we make-out?: "When the mood is appropriate… ahem. It's a possibility, so I wouldn't rule it out just yet. That's for me to know, and for you to find out." A night in or dinner out?: "Think we can kill two birds with one stone, let's do both." Whip cream or chocolate syrup?: "… Is this for dessert? Both, I suppose?" Chocolates and roses?: "Well, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would I?" The answer's yes, and with a giant bunny plush to add to the collection. What makes you a good Valentine?: "… I'm a committed partner, and I'm getting better at dancing." He feels somewhat awkward at having to advertise himself and fill out an application when they're already in a relationship, but he doesn't mind entertaining her and what seems to be a rabbit game. "You'd never have to worry when you're with me. Does that make me a qualified candidate for this holiday, or should I list specifics?... Is this an interview, baby girl?" Would you cook for me?: "I'd take care of everything." Even the hunting; she won't have to stain her pretty hands with blood anymore. Would you let me cook for you?: "Sure, if that's what you'd like. I'd want to help you out in the kitchen and with gathering the materials, though." Where would you take me on a date?: "… Somewhere you'd like to go? A trendy upstart restaurant with a dance floor and a good bar, and then somewhere more intimate where we can see the stars and slow dance underneath the night sky. I'll take you anywhere you want to go, just say the word. I'll make sure you feel safe anywhere and everywhere in this city." Who’s paying?: "-- Hey, don't worry about the money, alright bunny? I'll take care of everything." He's a gentleman who's adamant about never letting a lady pick up the tab. What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?: "Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, but I guess it's fine if I show you early." Matching promise rings with gemstones to symbolize their connection and commitment to each other, paired with a flower bouquet of her namesake and another giant bunny plush so the one he gave her for her birthday isn't lonely. It almost resembles him, with the same deep blue eyes and steady smile. "... Will all this do, Miss Sayuri? Am I the perfect fit for the position?"

     Mangled flowers && cheap blood wine, the smell of intoxicating masked with decay, isn’t it comical? A ghoul that wishes to know what love is, the affection of a heart that brims with nowhere to go. Her stained dress, the ripped fabric of light gossamer && silk bows, slices of meat with the smell of cigarettes - she hated this, loathed it, none of it served meaning but only temporary reprieve from the vacancy that lingered. To live among those that admonished their existence, playing games in order to blend in, youthful with nowhere to go - always hiding. The rabbit who tried to believe her destiny was being snared by the wolves, might as well forget everything else that couldn’t be. When did she ever begin to care? Coffee that was brewed with love, the epitome of an indomitable spirit or the false belief maybe the inherited past they sought to escape could be washed away in the lull of lazy music && simple chatter. A dove, she remembered the worried voices murmuring, he’s found way into her burrow. It would be easy, fool him with the deception that whoever had the information he sought was just another nameless head to claim. Lower beings that caused too much trouble, ruining their fun but instead, she found herself inquisitive.

           The curious being who would listen to him speak && laugh, nihilism entangled within the saccharine tone && champagne towers, what was this sensation that grew in the depths of her stomach? It was not hunger, she had not yearned to eat in years, neither was it the pleasant numbness that spread, dulling the ache of self loathing, it was warm - pleasant. Slowly, it grows as time goes by the actions that go against reaction, low snarls that start to transpire as kin mock her - just eat him, you feel only obsession, it will go away soon. Safe, he constantly says this where she shook && trembled, confessing she has never felt it, biting before she could be bitten. Like a great towering ghost, there she remembers, it burned again that same odd feeling rooted in the depths of her stomach - blooming, twisting, when she wished to slaughter him on the spot. Pathetically clinging to the regrets that she could never utter; stay here with me, I can protect us, why won’t you stay? Those who live solely for the entertainment that anchored itself in utmost debauchery were not meant to harbor such emotions, a life that was careless without regret, how distasteful. “You’re terrible” she finally laughs, meager && soft, unable to be deciphered if it’s amusement or scorn. Berry-stained, her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth. The fabric of a white sundress bunched in her grasp, humans love trivial things, don’t they? They like to flamboyantly express their affections, without knowing the reality of what devotion means.

            The pale ghost reaches forward, slender fingers, too worn && yet, gentle, reach to touch his jawline. Affection that bore itself as she took the lead, a shimmering beacon of temporary reprieve from the mundane, Koutarou - he never saw this. Illusions that she cast in order to escape the existence that was deemed wrong from the start, another runaway, seeking to find freedom when there was none. He granted her the ability to believe that it was possible, this raw thing she called a heart was not useless. It still bled && pulsated with the tenacity to live even if she couldn’t recall why. I love you, the first time she says it the air is pulled from her lungs, the second time, it no longer is caustic on her tongue, slowly morphing into ways to remind him; we can face this together. “Just like always, making me blush && unable to say a thing, you’re such a heartthrob, investigator” finally, emerald eyes crystal with a thin sheen. She reaches to embrace him, tight && firm, like a bastion that refuses to fall - how could anyone be so pure in their beliefs? Even when disillusioned, even when the same system threatened to eliminate such truths, he was unwavering as ever.

        “Already I can sense hunting is off the table, you’ll find everything before I could even oppose, still troublesome as ever” thin slices, tightly bound && placed on the counter, the savage gesture to kill for another was to proclaim; no longer shall you be alone, no longer shall you despair, this sorrow is now shared. “Still nostalgic for your salaryman days? You filled it out perfectly, Koutarou, there would never be a life that I wouldn’t choose you” sunlight, she saw it for the first time with him. The morning that came where she did not rush to escape, dwelling deeper into the darkness awaiting for the stars to rise, instead she listened to the birdsong that was long forgotten. Hope, burning like an inferno that refused to die, that was what she came to understand; the belief, there was more to this life than merely breathing.

        “Dance with me, in our home, till the stars come out && we can talk underneath the moonlight - just like before, but this time, there’s a tomorrow”

[that-golden-lyre]

I posted 1,112 times in 2022

30 posts created (3%)

1,082 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@flowerflamestars

@ladynestaarcheron

@vidalinav

@hoax1918

@arinbelle

I tagged 245 of my posts in 2022

#nesta archeron - 29 posts

#thanksvember2022 - 28 posts

#nessian - 28 posts

#cassian - 24 posts

#the old guard - 17 posts

#dream of the endless - 16 posts

#the sandman - 15 posts

#hob gadling - 15 posts

#yusuf al kaysani - 13 posts

#dream x hob - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#what about the rest of us poor writing simps trying not to absolutely loose it everytime you post a snippet huh???

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So we have another late one. May I start with the fact that this fic is a beautiful version of the “if you love me go to sleep, know your limits”, meme. And I ADORE it. It is wonderful and warm and Dream is in his soft boi era and I’m in love with it. The fact that Dream experiences every dream of every living thing and yet his feelings for Hob are SO STRONG that he NOTICES when he is not there is enough to make me cry. But Dream reveling in the routine of Hob’s life had me in a fucking puddle. The way Dream just wants to be a part of it as much as he wants to simply be present for it. You can feel the eons of existing in the way his feelings are described and that is once again a BIG favorite of mine. I love how Hob is so unfazed by him at this point in his life that he just figures this might as well happen but there’s still a little bit of embarrassment, not really embarrassment but…being unnerved for once? I don’t know how to describe it, but the way that Hob for the first time realizes that he’s sharing this tiny part of domesticity with Dream, but he’s almost too tired to be fully embarrassed about it. Anyways, if you love Dream x Hob domesticity as much as I do, READ THIS. Absolutely loved it! Thanks to @astrangebird for sharing! 💜💜

12 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

#4

Oh no I missed a day....GUESS I'M DOING TWO POSTS THEN!!!!

For day 11, I give you an incredibly recent read! Oh, the way my heart actually skipped a beat reading this. I've said it before but when writers can portray the depth of years onto an ancient character the writing SLAPS 👏🏾. Listen kids, Dream of the endless is basically the pathetic meow meow equivalent to an eldrich terror. Reading fics about him is honestly a LARGE hit or miss for me. Because people will either treat him like a horny teenager or a boring old man. He's the collective unconscious of EVERY LIVING THING. That being said, the portrayal I have of him in my head is a pretty damn high standard. BUT SHIT @fellshish really hit the nail on the head for me. It's not that Dream never acts dumb about stuff, it's just the WAY he's dumb about stuff is so...well...different. The way that Dream's inner monologue is in SUCH denial if not only for the fact that as long as he has control then none of it is real. Until it is, until he wants it to be real so badly that he forgets a bit that this is HOBS DREAM. I absolutely love how at the end of it all, he gives the choice back to Hob. He stops trying to control destiny as if that wasn't what he's been doing this whole time. He surrenders...to Hob. And the romanticism of him surrendering to him regardless of how Hob reacts was just absolutely beautiful. Anyways, now that I have 1,000% spoiled this fic for you, you should STILL go read it! Thank you to @fellshish for sharing! ❣️

12 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#3

I don’t think you guys understand how much I needed this. Netflix has a habit of cancelling shows with representation in them and I’m scared for this show. Fingers crossed that the bastard son and the devil himself gets renewed for season two! 🥹 Now, this fic. I needed something to fill my head with after this show became my new hyper fixation of the week. The show is so much fun and I honestly love the poly vibes that I’m getting from the main trio! No love triangle, just a triad. As it stands this fic is like getting a warm cup of hot chocolate after being outside in the snow. After the emotional STORM that was that season finale, reading this was like tying a beautiful bow on top of a heartbreak. This fic had me yearning for the love these three have for each other in the darkest times. And hey, maybe this wasn’t the cheerful bow that other people want, but it’s the aftercare post massacre that I needed. Because maybe the bad times were the good times ❤️. So if you’re obsessed with this show just like I am, go give this a read! Thanks to @wandersmoklight for sharing! 💝

14 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#2

We’ve got something new folks! No nessian today! 😂 Okay, I will admit I watched the old guard movie before I read the comics but I’m SO glad I did!!! Props to @hoax1918 for the artwork it is GORGEOUS! This fic goes into an everyday detail that I absolutely love! I love how this just exposes the reasons they care for each other and how they got there. It’s a simple gesture, but they can’t help it! They’re literally magnetic. There’s something about the story that just brims with the electricity of the possible. I fully enjoyed just how hard they’re trying NOT to be fond of each other in public. But again, they can’t help it and I will forever love the pining in this dynamic. Nicky and Joe just have this sweet sadness about them before they become a couple and I don’t think I’ve found that in many other ships! So if you’re looking for a bit of ancient yearning definitely give this fic a read! Thanks to @shadowhannibad for sharing 💘

18 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok I am still on my Dreamling domestic bullshit. Sorry not sorry. This really made me want to curl up by a fire and hug a cat. The way that this just slaps me in the face with the need to have someone care for me, the tiny details of everyday care just KILL ME. And that’s it isn’t it? That’s the love that Dream and Hob so desperately need, they want someone who will love every detail of who they are. I think that’s what they deserve! After centuries of pining and being alone, Hob doesn’t want to hold back! And Dream is venturing again into love when it has never turned out well for him, he’s afraid. The apprehension that this fic explores, the silent touches, and HILARIOUS timing on Dreams part. But Dream is never convenient is he? And Hob for all that he is has never bothered to care! Not when he was rich, not when he was poor. Dream just integrating himself into Hob’s life accidentally! Literally chefs kiss 💋! This fic really is just full of details that I continue to loose my mind over (because I definitely read it too many times). Sometimes after reading the sandman I forget that Dream loves quiet, yet so so loud. He integrates the person he loves into his very being. He has seen every for of love every living being has to offer. Love is a part of Dream as much as slumber. I absolutely LOVED every bit of this fic! And if you love Domestic Dream and Hob, you NEED to read it! Thanks to @wordsinhaled for sharing! 💙💙

33 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[everlasting-elegy]

Heya! I've been having another Solomon brainrot after Our Destiny was released and I saw your post so I wanted to share some (probably cliché) thoughts too. I hope you don't mind! ^^

Ok first off— KAWATA-SAN'S VOICE IS AMAZING AND ADDICTING AS ALWAYS

I definitely had high hopes for his character song especially with his catchy, educational fish songs and his cover of Sinful Indulgence but it still surpassed my expectations—

The harmonization is so mesmerizing and the humming and ad-libbing at the end? *chef's kiss*

Some lyric videos have now been posted too and the lyrics are so sweet! (Here are some by Akuma Ai and kreanime just in case)

Now about Solomon himself

**some S3 (Lessons 41-60) spoilers ahead, sorry**

A lot of people see Solomon as a shady character but personally, I think he's really sweet. Sure, there are times when he deceives you for the sake of teaching you as well but he's seen a lot in his time.

With the MC's total faith in others being their greatest virtue and weakness, I think he also wanted to teach them not to trust people too easily, let alone demons. In the 3rd part of his birthday card (Seek a Melody), he mentioned that being in a pact with a demon doesn't make them your friend and each party has its own separate interests. But also thanks to the MC, he eventually started seeing them as good friends and the MC taught him some things about demons that he hadn't known despite having lived for so long.

Solomon didn't really have any close friends except for Asmo and eventually, Simeon, Luke and the MC.

Maybe I've been influenced by a few posts and fanfics here and there but I think he was a bit insecure about having a relationship with the MC especially since they're usually around the demon brothers and they barely get to spend any time together (until S3) and he'd accept the fact that his feelings may be unrequited.

After being alone for so long, he has someone to value again, to love again and this time, he has a chance to deepen their connection which is why he won't ever let them go.

(Anyway yeah sorry for the long ramble and feel free to ignore this. Please have mercy, I am but a lowly Solomon simp— /hj)

I’m so glad to see I’m not the only one being converted because of Our Destiny and of course I don’t mind!! I especially asked for some Solomon thoughts so these thoughts are very welcome~

My day’s been made a little brighter knowing that Solomon’s VA makes educational fish videos I can’t stop giggling its so cute skdkskd. I didn’t know he covered Sinful Indulgence though!! Kawata’s voice is honestly perfect for Solomon, it’s smooth and calming yet slightly airy with mischievousness~

I am FULLY with the “Solomon’s just some dude” agenda lmao. Yeah this man is a powerful sorcerer on the prowl for pacts but honestly if I was him I would be too skdjskd (also he has 70? or so pacts and for someone alive for presumably thousands of years thats a pretty low rate). He likely learnt the hard way of the contractual relationship of a pact, poor man ends up keeping a lot of beings at arms length. But for you, the one he’s ironically learnt so much from, he’ll teach you all he knows in return

PLEASE after the first time I came across the “Solomon concerned that MC would never love him back because he’s just a human and there’s literally all powerful demons down bad for them” I read nothing but Solomon fics for the next week. Unrequited love that is actually returned is just SO JUICY I’ve been itching to write a fic on it skdjskdjs. I guess some could argue that its not logical given Solomon could be just as powerful - if not more - than quite a few demons but in turn I’d argue that insecurities are usually not - if not ever - rational. It has been centuries, likely millenia, since Solomon has felt this way for someone, he can’t bear the thought of giving it up. Even if you don’t feel the same, he’ll be by your side, doing all he can to keep you safe and to see you smile at him

(Please do not fear about being a “lowly Solomon simp”, at this rate I’m going to be joining you in the depths skdjskd)

[kemendin]

hello! 7, 8, 10 and 14 for the SWTOR player asks, please :)

7. Which player voice actor is your favorite and your least favorite?

I haven’t played through all of them yet, so of the ones I’ve experienced - male Jedi Knight is probably my fave, I feel like he hits more emotional ups and downs than a lot of the others (and he’s pretty close to what Caspian should actually sound like, so I’m biased.) That said, I adore the accent of the male Sith Warrior as well. Not a fan of the male Sith Inquisitor.

8. Name your top favorite companions (feel free to include reasons why).

S C O U R G E: I could go on for pages about this man and I could listen to his voice for hours. He’s just so layered and complex and he’s seen so much. I love how he’s both unflinchingly ruthless and incredibly open-minded. He makes you THINK and QUESTION and at the same time, he admits at multiple points that he is learning from the Knight as well. And he does NOT get enough credit for his sass and deadpan sense of humour. Theron Shan: He’s witty, he’s reckless, he’s running on five cups of caf at any given point, and he cares so much more than he wants you to know. And despite his casual attitude, he is REALLY good at his job. I think that gets undersold sometimes. Malavai Quinn: Yeah I still don’t know how this one happened. I blame Khel and seeing everything through his lens. Quinn is incredibly intelligent and there’s a lot going on behind his veneer of stiff and proper Imperial officer - he has passions, and he can be quite vicious, but I also like how he consistently disapproves of senseless cruelty.

Honourable mentions to Kira, Lana, Vector, and T7.

10. Favorite love interest?

IS THIS EVEN A QUESTION

Okay but seriously - Scourge. So much Scourge. Cannot even begin to explain the depth and complexity of my feelings about him and Caspian. (I’ll try)

So this is very much coloured by MY PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of their relationship as it progresses, because you can only romance Scourge so late in the game (and as an aside, I am totally happy with that timing. It works for the story, that wait was agonising but absolutely worth it.) Allow me to drop a blurb from my lengthy WIP:

“Are you serious?” Another small, surprised laugh bubbled from Kira’s lips. “Scourge - the Force gave you a vision of this guy centuries before he even existed. You dedicated nearly your entire life to serving your enemy, living under his control, all in the belief that one day, this unknown Jedi in your vision would appear, and you’d join forces with him to bring down the greatest threat the galaxy’s ever known. And that’s exactly what you’ve done. Say what you want, but by anyone else’s standard that sounds pretty damn romantic. If it had been me, I think I’d have fallen for you too.”

Scourge blinked. “You make it sound far more shallow than it is,” he muttered, feeling another swell of heat that rose to stain his face.

“No, it’s not shallow at all. That’s my point.” Kira was watching him earnestly now, not even commenting on his flushed features. “You two were literally brought together by the will of the Force. I mean, a Jedi and a Sith, practically icons of their respective sides, hugely different people with wildly opposing values - you two couldn’t go half a day without an argument, when you first joined up, remember? But you still found a way to put all that aside and become something different altogether. Something more.”

This dichotomy is what’s so compelling to me about Cas/Scourge. There’s the whole ‘enemies to allies to lovers’ thing of course, but even deeper than that, their story is about how they’ve taken the will of the Force, the destiny the Force has crafted for them in joining together to defeat the Emperor, and they’ve made it their own. At the end of the day, they’re not doing this because the Force willed it - they are CHOOSING to be together, CHOOSING to find their common ground and learn and grow together, and that’s more powerful than any destiny.

14. Favorite planet story arc?

I’ll be honest, I’m terrible at remembering the planet stories as opposed to the class stories that take place on them. But on instinct I’ll go with Belsavis. I love the progression of going deeper and deeper into the dangers of the prison and its vaults, exploring not only what the Republic imprisoned here, but what the Rakata left behind. And on a similar Rakata note, Tatooine is great, the slow uncovering of the mystery of what Czerka found beneath the sands is always compelling when I go through it.

[yunoteru4ever]

What would you change in mirai Nikki if you could?

I'd change it so that the entire manga was released in English. :P

And y'know, given the number of followers this Tumblr has? I'm still hoping for a LOT more signatures on that petition...

...

But I know that's not what you mean.

So: Manga or Anime? Let's do both.

Anime: 

In general, I actually wish the anime hewed a bit closer to the manga. It's a pretty faithful adaption, don't get me wrong. But there are some cut or alternate scenes that I like better in the manga. I prefer the manga's ending where they get to share control of the Third World and the final shot is our two leads running off to see the stars together. I wish we had some of the additional dialogue and internal thoughts from Minene around the climax. I wish we heard Yuki rebut Yuno's claims that they were just convenient for/using one other. I wish we saw Akise's visit to Yuno's orphanage. 

Yuno’s literally killing a gaggle of orphans with a carving axe when her old caretaker says this.

And I wish we didn't have the extensions they made up for Seventh's flashback — whereas I think Tsubaki's horrific backstory at least serves the larger narrative, the introduction of some gang rape for Ai that was instigated by some Mean Girls is just gross without serving any purpose.

Which isn't to say that they didn't make some pretty clever additions/changes along the way, too. Like, adapting a chapter out of Mirai Nikki: Mosaic to provide context for Minene and Nishijima's connection? Extremely smart, very important.

Manga:

This is much tougher. I guess it did bug the crap out of me that Yuki's dad attempts to destroy Yuki's phone, and Yuki 100% believes that his father intends to kill him when it happens, which is NEVER REFUTED. This is something that the anime fixed, so it's probably an issue that Sakae Esuno is already aware of.

But no. The thing I most want to change isn’t even in the main series. I don’t have much there that I’d complain about, honestly.

No, the thing I most want to fix is the Paradox side series. I gave it a little review here long ago, and I’ve talked about one of its biggest missed opportunities. But just... we’ve got to do something about this thing.

1) We need a reason why Yuno is missing. Let’s say that... oh, how about her brain broke upon seeing Yuki die, being unable to resurrected him, coming to the Second World, killing her own self, and then having her memories blocked to boot. So she’s just wandering the countryside aimlessly while her mind tries to get ahold of itself, bc right now she barely knows her own fucking name or something. And maybe Murmur can’t find her because, y’know, we hint at the fact that there’s something supernatural blocking Murmur’s ability to do so. Because we don’t want to reveal that Yuno might have godly abilities squirreled away inside her just yet, because this was published and was read by people before the main series was wrapped up. So we can’t do those reveals in HERE< right? 

But see, I think we can even do all this without revealing the events that made Yuno lose it explicitly. Maybe we just include a hint to that opening scene of the whole story where she was talking to Yuki’s corpse without explaining it further. When we finally find her near the end of the story, maybe we have her mumbling some things that don’t seem to make sense (like “I have to die?”) that hint at how we got here. 

2) If Akise has to attack the Akashic Records (which I think is extremely debatable), let’s give voice to WHY he’d do something like that. Let Akise actually say to Murmur “Whatever god it is that you’re serving, he’s not mine. I control my own destiny - as should we all.” And boom, he suddenly has a major reason to attack the place where Deus keeps all records of the past AND the expected future, because it would be like a way to wipe the slate clean. 

3) I’ll accept that Sakae Esuno probably didn’t want to leave another timeline (a “Fourth World”) hanging out there, so, fine — let’s say that he hit the reset button somehow. But let’s have the giant reset button make some sort of sense. Let’s say Akise figures out how to access the Cathedral of Causality and the Akashic Records; sure. And Yuno, finally getting a sense of who she is, ends up following him there. That’s where she sees Yuki in a comatose state and goes completely ballistic. As Akise is attacking the records and Murmur is attacking Akise to stop him (and silence him), Yuno is attacking EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. And then we finally let the threat that was hanging over Murmur the whole story (i.e., Deus finding out) actually come to fruition. Deus discovers what’s happening, he’s irritated/angry about it, and due to the important of the records and the fact that he wants the players in his game to play this thing out without direct interference from him and Murmur, he... does something. I don’t know. Maybe, in the instance that the records are damaged, there’s a “ONE TIME ONLY” failsafe that rewinds all events in the world by a few days, setting us back to where we came in, only now the players are in the right positions. Y’know? Just... SOMETHING. Hand-wave it at least a little.

[hajimine]

perennial destiny — fushiguro megumi x gn!reader

synopsis: megumi does not like the concept of soulmates. he wants to be able to choose who he loves—and he chooses you.

word count: 1.2k

genre: fluff, soulmate!au but not really, established relationship, soft!megumi (this is so cheesy fr)

soundtrack: on a clear day by joe hisaishi

a/n: i’m ngl i actually like this lol so i hope you guys do too! tysm @rintaroll​​ for being my beta and for the song rec mwah ily (ew) <3

A light smattering of clouds paint the blue sky in splashes of white, providing you with a little bit of shade from the otherwise bright afternoon sun.

You gaze at the little ducks waddling around on the pond, following their mother’s path. Unconsciously, you feel your lips curl up into a smile.

“What are you looking at?” Megumi murmurs, face turned towards you as he uses his hand to block out the sun from his eyes.

Humming, you give him a cheeky smile. “Nothing.”

He scrunches his face slightly, biting back a smile. He's used to your antics at this point.

Using his forearm to cover his eyes, Megumi sighs contently, shifting the position of his head on your lap to make himself more comfortable. The added weight on your thighs feel comforting, almost. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The two of you stay in silence for a while as you bask in each other’s presence, enjoying the moment. The dark-haired boy plucks a stray dandelion beside him, inspecting it closely.

“Do you,” he starts, hesitating. You hum, urging him to continue. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

You stay quiet for a while, pondering his question. “I think I do, actually,” you admit. “It’s kinda sweet—the idea of it all. I’d like to think that there’s someone out there who’s meant for me, y’know?”

Megumi closes his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as he considers your answer. He's really pretty, you think to yourself.

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit dumb?” He asks finally.

The bluntness of his words takes you by surprise. You laugh, gazing down at him with a fond look in your eyes. There’s a small frown on his lips; the crease between his brows a little more pronounced than usual.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you watch as he relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his shoulders bit by bit.

You settle on a simple question. “What makes you say that?”

Megumi sighs, “The whole ‘fate and destiny’ thing. I think not being able to live your life the way you want to is a little depressing.” He purses his lips. “What if you don’t like your soulmate?”

You turn to look at the ducks again, but they were nowhere to be found. Now, the pond was silent, and there were no ripples in sight.

The pleasant smell of earth seeps into your lungs as you breathe in. Never in a million years would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with him.

You didn’t exactly peg him as someone who would be interested in the concept of soulmates at all. A soft smile graces your lips.

“Well, I suppose there should be a system to prevent that,” you squint, “maybe they would make it so that it’s impossible for you to hate your soulmate.”

Megumi clicks his tongue. “That just makes us robots then.”

This makes you grin. “Robots?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, now shy. “If that's the case, you really have no choice in your thoughts and feelings, it simply strips your humanity away from you.”

You stop running your fingers through his hair for a moment and Megumi shifts, nudging your hand with his head to get you to continue. Cute.

Amused, you ask him, “Well, what if soulmates are real, and I’m not your soulmate, what would you do?”

He plucks another dandelion from the ground and inspects it before holding it close to his chest.

“It won’t change anything.” He says, not an ounce of hesitation in his words.

“Wouldn’t you wanna find your real soulmate?” You inquire, the flames of curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Without wasting a second, he sits up, turning around to face you. He studies your face for a second, eyes traveling down the curve of your nose and down to the slight upturn of your lips before returning to hold your gaze. 

Megumi speaks, eyebrows furrowed. “No. the fates or the heavens or whatever the hell is controlling our destiny won’t have any effects on my choices. I’m not about to be another pawn in the gods’ game of love. It’s the least I can do.”

And you laugh, light and bubbly; ignoring the fact that your chest feels abundantly lighter after his statement.

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

His cheeks flare up, the headstrong confidence from a minute ago now gone, replaced by the charming bashfulness only a few have had the privilege to see. 

“Well,” he mumbles, “I’m not gonna leave you just ‘cause some prophecy tells me to. I like you. A lot.” Maybe a little too much, but he doesn’t tell you this.

The breeze tickles your face. “Yeah?”

Megumi refuses to meet your eyes, but he continues. “I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I chose myself. Soulmate or not.”

It is not his words that make your heart flutter—it’s the quiet blossoms in his cheeks, the sureness in his voice. If fate was a human, you’re sure that he’d fight her with no hesitation. Heck, even if she was a god, knowing Megumi, he would fight her too, even if it’ll cost him his life.

You watch him twirl the stem of dandelion between his fingertips. He doesn’t blow on it, nor does he make a wish like anyone else would in the presence of the perennial, he simply observes the flutters of white falling from its head. 

“So you would defy destiny if you had to?” You ask, knowing exactly what his answer would be even before he utters another word.

“Yes.” his dark eyes are steady, not a drop of uncertainty swimming in its depths. 

The soft breeze suddenly feels a little too warm for comfort. “That’s awfully romantic, don’t you think?”

And he blinks at you, but he does not yield. “Well, I just think soulmates are awfully unromantic.” He says, the corner of his lips twitching slightly.

A genuine laugh bubbles out from your chest. “You’re a curious one, Fushiguro Megumi.”

The smile on his lips is a fond one. “What about you?” He props his chin on the palm of his hand. “What would you do if soulmates are real?”

“Ah,” you pretend to think, “you’d be my soulmate then.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but the tips of his ears are dipped in vermillion. “But what if I’m not your soulmate?”

You spare him nothing but a glance, rising to your feet before brushing the dirt off your pants. As you squint at the setting sun, a contented sigh escapes your lips. On days like these, you could fully take in the beauty of the afternoon sky as you observe the shades of reds and golds dancing in the heavens.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to find my one true love.” You hum, biting back a laugh.

The dark-haired boy scoffs and stands up, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. Half a smile graces his lips as he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. With the sort of tenderness he reserves just for you, Megumi rests his forehead against yours. He feels warm.

Megumi smells faintly of the earth—a product of the hours he spent sitting under the sun with you—along with a hint of the cool menthol shampoo he uses to wash his hair. And together, they create a blanket of comfort and familiarity, one that you’ve grown to call home. You breathe in.

“I won’t let you leave.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. His palms feel comfortably warm on your waist; gentle and light, yet sure and heavy at the same time.

There’s a playful sparkle in your eyes as your lips curl up into a smile. “I know you won’t.”

per·en·ni·al /pəˈrenēəl/

(n.) a perennial plant

(adj.) lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring.

a/n: as always, reblogs are highly appreciated! please let me know what you think of this fic, i always love hearing from you all! also: yes, there’s another flower symbolism in this piece lol <3

-> writing masterlist  |  taglist is in the comments

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!